The brutal war of faiths concluded with the death cultists surrendering en masse, leaving Wayne stranded in an awkward, profoundly anticlimactic funk.
He recognized the lethal stopping power of a handgun, but this was far too much of an atmosphere killer. It completely wasted all the intricate mental gymnastics he had just gone through.
The cultists' shameless capitulation also stripped Wayne of whatever shred of reverent awe he might have held for the gods of this world. Then again, it made sense: their ringleader was a cross-dressing impostor who farmed his followers through a fabricated persona. When the upper beam is crooked, the lower beams lean; one could hardly expect disciples of death to choose death over dishonor.
Wayne sighed with mixed feelings. Still, this wasn't bad. He was an utterly ordinary guy; if the world was safe, he was safe.
Nearby, the cultists stood lined up with their hands against the wall. William, capitalizing on his burly physique, proceeded to extend his regards to each captive on a purely physical level.
One face was very familiar to Wayne: Pluto, the dockworker, who had been dropped to the floor by William's silky-smooth combo.
Shoryuken, Hadouken, Tatsumaki Senpuukyaku (X)
Left hook, right hook, uppercut (√)
Magic was just that unpretentious!
Only after everyone had grown obedient did Veronica begin her interrogation, sticking to her usual routine: mushrooms so delicious they induced hallucinations.
Veronica had been tracking the Death Walker's trail all along and had never expected to make such a massive breakthrough so quickly, wiping out one of their strongholds in short order. Yet as the questioning progressed, disappointment inevitably crept in.
The Death Walker hadn't attended tonight's gathering. The organizer, who had appeared to be the leader, was merely an errand boy. Veronica had not only come up empty-handed, but she had also inadvertently alerted the enemy.
Staking out the place in hopes he would return was far too unlikely to yield results, so Veronica asked about the Death Walker's whereabouts—and received the answer that he had returned to his hometown to get married.
Wayne scratched his head. It sounded utterly absurd, yet... strangely down-to-earth. The mysterious, aloof image of mages in his mind instantly became much more approachable.
Upon further questioning, Veronica learned the Death Walker's name and home address.
Mike Nelson, nicknamed "Bloody Mike." His hometown was the Town of Kafuno, situated northwest of the outskirts of the City of Londan.
Mike came from a humble family of beasts of burden. He had ventured into the big city all on his own to make a living, drifting through the docks and the warehouse district for years. During a turf dispute over a hauling job, he had offended the local heavyweights and was beaten half to death, earning the moniker "Bloody Mike."
Mike had no connections, no wits, and no money. He was destined never to rise above his station. Barring any surprises, the docks would have squeezed every last drop of surplus value out of him, and on the day he could no longer haul loads, he would have returned to his hometown with meager savings and a body battered by injury and illness.
Yet somehow, Mike had turned his life around. He had become a follower of the Goddess of Death, mastered magic, and rallied a gang of lackeys to carve out a piece of territory in the warehouse district.
Regarding what had actually happened to him, Mike never breathed a word. He showed absolute devotion toward Death, and his personality had undergone a drastic transformation.
While Veronica gathered intelligence, Wayne could no longer suppress the curiosity burning in his chest. He turned to William and asked, "William, as far as you know, is the Goddess of Death male or female?"
"Female."
William answered without hesitation, then added, "At least externally, her image is female."
"What about in essence?"
"How would I... Why are you asking that?"
"Uh, just now when I blended into the crowd and pretended to pray, I heard a voice by my ear. I don't know if it was the Goddess of Death—it was very deep, definitely a man's voice. He asked if I was willing to offer up everything," Wayne said with a straight face.
"That wasn't the Goddess of Death. That was one of the three Vicars of Death, Observer Griew. See that spider mark over there? That's the Observer's symbol."
William cleared up Wayne's confusion, then said in astonishment, "Death never descends of her own accord, but to receive a personal invitation from the Observer means you're in luck. It shows you're exceptionally attuned to Death."
There was another sentence William left unsaid: receiving an invitation from the Observer meant Wayne stood a very good chance of becoming an earthly dependent of the Goddess of Death, thereby gaining formidable powers far beyond what mere disciples like Death Walkers could ever match.
"What kind of luck is catching Death's eye? Observer Griew..."
Before Wayne could finish, William slapped a hand over his mouth. The big man leaned in close, his face looming as he warned, "You've been shortlisted by the Observer. You cannot speak his name directly, or else he'll take it as an acceptance of his invitation. Understand?"
Wayne froze, pushing away William's hand—which felt an awful lot like someone taking liberties—and asked in surprise, "What happens if he thinks I accepted?"
"His will will descend upon this place and brand you with the mark of a disciple of death," William said grimly.
*Gulp!*
William's voice was unusually chilly, lacking every bit of his typical sunny optimism. The stark contrast caused Wayne to swallow hard instinctively. He broke out in a silent cold sweat: thank goodness the big guy had stopped him in time, or else once the Vicar's will descended, he'd be in for a world of hurt.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, a sudden disturbance erupted at the center of the warehouse. The inverted triangle engulfed in vegetation flared with intense black light, its eight spider legs twisting and coiling through the void as though post-clarity had passed and it was bursting with vigor once more.
The writhing spider legs sank into the void, reaching toward an otherworldly realm. A low murmur reverberated through the entire warehouse, closely followed by a violent shockwave of pitch-black curtain.
A dark shockwave washed over the scene, bleaching everything in its path into shades of gray and white.
Veronica put up no defense, and neither did William. They seemed prepared for this, or rather, had been waiting for this exact moment. Not only did they make no move to shield themselves, but they also calmly accepted the baptism of black light.
The cultists remained unharmed as well; the shockwave was merely terrifying to the eye, lacking any actual physical lethality. Once the black light dissipated, the gray-and-white warehouse returned to its original appearance.
Everyone was fine—except Wayne, who felt a certain change take place within his body.
"Veronica, how are you?"
William asked tentatively. Seeing Veronica shake her head, he sighed. "A curse really isn't that easy to undo. Who said two negatives make a positive last time? Oh, right, that was just my guess. Never mind, then."
Veronica offered no comment, merely giving William a sidelong roll of her eyes to let him figure it out himself.
"Pardon the interruption, but about this curse... could you be a bit more specific? Did the Observer's will just descend?" Wayne asked, his expression stiff, cold sweat soaking his back.
"It has nothing to do with the Observer, and nothing to do with you either. The curse comes from another Vicar of Death, the Adjudicator. Disrupting the ritual triggers the curse, but I placed magic on you beforehand; it will shield you from the curse's harm."
William clapped a broad hand onto Wayne's shoulder, revelling in his own foresight. Then his eyes snapped wide in disbelief. "What is this? Where's my magic? You... you got cursed?"
"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask? I have no idea either!"
Wayne put on a miserable expression. He naturally knew what had happened, but only children admitted their mistakes; adults understood that shifting the blame was the golden rule.
Sure enough, William assumed his own spellcasting error had caused Wayne to be cursed. Panic overtook him, and his words stumbled: "Don't panic! You aren't a mage, so the curse won't seal your magic power... Wait, how do you feel? Has any kind of change happened to your body?"
As he spoke, his hands began groping all over Wayne, who recoiled and leapt far away in an instant.
*Where do you think you're touching? Is that a place one guy should be feeling up on another?!*
"My body definitely feels a bit different."
Wayne pressed his lips together, his gaze drifting with a touch of bewilderment as he mixed truth with fiction. "I'm really hungry. I want to eat. *Hiss...* the more I think about it, the hungrier I get."
With that, he stared intently at Veronica, only to be met with a murderous glare. Tactfully, he shifted his gaze to William.
"Wayne, you don't... crave human flesh, do you?" William instinctively took a step back.
"Not that. It's an appetite of normal orientation—any food that fills the belly will do, except potatoes. And... there's another kind of hunger."
Wayne took a deep breath. "It's not my physical body, but some place I can't quite describe. I can't put my finger on it, so let's call it the soul. My soul is craving magic—er, magical energy, I suppose... I'm not a professional, so I don't know how to describe it."
"Magic power?" William blurted out.
"Right, right, right! Exactly that. I'm craving magic power too."
Wayne nodded vigorously, stating with absolute certainty, "My soul hungers for magic power. Without magic power to replenish it, my soul will starve to death very soon. Yes, that's it!"
Having said this, he glanced toward Veronica again, and as expected, received another fierce glare.
"The Adjudicator's curses are notoriously spiteful and erratic; feeding on magic power is well within the realm of possibility. But he's just an ordinary human with no magic power to satisfy his soul's hunger. Even if he did have any, it would have been sealed by the curse just now. If left unattended..."
A mini-lecture drifted from the corner of the wall. Wayne looked down toward the sound, only to see the black cat, Monica, strutting toward him with feline grace.
"The... the cat talked!" Wayne's eyes went wide.
Monica leaped atop William's head and continued, "William, because of your mistake, an ordinary person has been cursed. He will die, and you must take responsibility for your blunder."
"What can I do? The curse sealed all my magic power! The tiny bit I have left was scraped together through daily meditation; I can't help him," William whined pitifully, blinking his thick-browed eyes at Veronica.
"Vero—"
"Hmph!"
All he got was the back of her head.
At his wit's end, William lifted Monica up high from his head, putting on a cheeky grin. "You got lucky and didn't have your magic sealed. How about this: you take responsibility for feeding him full. Consider it a favor to me, and I'll cook whatever you want to eat in the future."
Monica proved surprisingly amenable, a contemplative expression appearing on her feline face. "I suppose I could, but I can't keep satisfying him indefinitely. Not unless he learns to meditate and obtain magic power on his own."
"That's too difficult. He'll starve to death long before then," William said, shaking his head.
"Indeed."
Monica nodded. After a moment, she wriggled out of William's hold and stepped lightly onto Wayne's shoulder, pressing a soft paw pad against his cheek.
*Oh, what an adorable little bean!*
Wayne turned his head to look, meeting Monica's golden cat eyes. The cat spoke in a raspy voice: "I can plant the seed of magic power within you, guiding and helping you become a mage in the shortest possible time. But there is no such thing as a free lunch in this world. I will be your guide, and from this day forward, you may only worship the Goddess of Moonlight, just as I do. Any objections?"
"None at all."
Wayne rejoiced inwardly. Fabricating an excuse amidst the chaos was actually going to let him become a mage—a true blessing in disguise.
Still, a magical girl paired with an adorable talking pet that bestowed magic power... for some reason, this combination felt awfully familiar...
Chapter 7