"Hela, the unconscious God of Death?"
Fisher astutely caught the key noun from the Death Minister's mouth. He quickly realized that death in this world was also an order constructed by a god like Dagon and Ramastia. But according to the other party's words, this deity was very likely extrely special.
"Exactly. Since you already have a rough understanding of these gods, you must know that the composition of this world is closely related to them. They constructed the rules of the world's operation, allowing the world to function in a predictable, stable manner. In this sense, all living beings created by the God of a Hundred Faces are natural pursuers of order."
"The gods exercised their respective Authorities, ticulously constructing a flawless operational system for this world. The reproduction and iteration of life, the composition and properties of Matter, the Destiny that asures ti and provides direction, the ebb and flow of Consciousness—everything is absolutely perfect. But if only the Authorities I just ntioned existed, this world would quickly beco lifeless due to bloat. There is another crucial Authority that plays an extrely important role in this world, and that is the Authority representing cessation and the cycle."
"The gods follow the ironclad rule of 'absolutely never interfering with the world's operation using Authority,' because that would bring severe consequences. No matter how much a god subjectively cares about sothing, they must never use the Authority that symbolizes their power. All gods must abide by this ironclad rule, allowing the world to run according to the rules they initially set. Hela is no exception. He is the end and the beginning of all rules, the key that enables the world to form a Perpetual Cycle. Thus, he is known as the 'Ultimate of All Things'."
The Death Minister pulled out another cigarette from his coat and lit it. As a mouthful of smoke was inhaled and then exhaled, his voice grew sowhat hoarse.
"Death links the Authorities of all gods together. Death offers an end to Life, which only knows how to grant vitality, allowing life and matter to transform into one another. It allows the deep Spirit World and Reality to continuously interact and exchange consciousness, rendering the Destiny that asures ti aningful. This is the eternal rule set down by Hela, holding equal validity to those of the other gods."
Fisher pondered for a mont and suddenly understood sothing. He coughed lightly, then said,
"Cough... I roughly understand what you an. But since you said 'gods must absolutely never interfere with the world's operation using Authority,' and Hela is an unconscious god, does this imply that, unlike the other gods who stay out of the world's operation, he is constantly interfering with the world using his Authority?"
The Death Minister curled his lip slightly and snapped his fingers.
"Exactly. You really are very smart, Mr. Fisher. This is where Hela differs from the other gods. And the reason he is so special must be attributed to the excessively loving God of a Hundred Faces... The rule of cessation set down by Hela is completely sufficient for lower-level beings and matter. Just like humans and other similar creatures, even if he doesn't personally interfere with his Authority, after a century passes, those of us who should die will still die."
"But the God of a Hundred Faces granted excessive love to certain beings He created. The only result of this was that they were actually able to resonate with, or even distort, the rules of this world to a certain extent. For example, the Phoenix Race, who can sense future Destiny, and the Whale-kin, who can wield the abilities of Blessing and Curse. These are not abilities that normal life should possess; they exceed the established bounds."
"And even these are considered relatively mild. The Mythical Creatures that follow, and the three beings at an even higher level, are the true heavyweights. They are already powerful enough to twist and tamper with the rules set by the gods. Their life and soul are entangled, becoming beings of 'Body and Soul Unity.' Their indescribably formidable power can effortlessly annihilate matter and cause permanent cessation. Ti and Destiny seem exceptionally sluggish before their extraordinarily keen souls and perception, and their bodies are strong and healthy enough to break free from lifespan limits, allowing them to live for a very, very long ti..."
"Although the God of a Hundred Faces later realized this in ti and placed a lock called 'Reproduction' on all powerful lifeforms except for three rather special beings, this was still not enough."
"Thus, Hela personally sealed away his own consciousness and descended, transforming into the most terrifying existence in this world: 'Death.' Based purely on instinct, he grants an irresistible, inescapable end to all living beings. Even though he currently lacks any sapience, relying rely on instinct, he can precisely control all deaths within this world."
The Death Minister smiled faintly, gesturing with his hand to form a step-like shape, and then continued,
"He strictly grants them their 'Corresponding Death' based on the being's Rank. Although from the perspective of third parties like us, the result for all beings is 'death' in the general sense, you just shouldn't confuse the two concepts. Because this relates closely to what I'm about to say. You're very smart and should easily grasp it. After all, I'm drunk right now, my mind isn't too clear, and I really don't want to repeat myself."
"The so-called 'Corresponding Death' ans that, in order to avoid wasting his own Authority while also preventing life from relying on its own power to break free from death, Hela's instinct established a Death Escape Interval. This is approximately twenty Tiers higher than the race's life level of the individual granted death. If you are a zeroth-Tier human, then an existence capable of helping you escape death must be at least at the Twentieth-Tier, and they must possess advanced thods in this area. If you are a Fifteenth-Tier Mythical Creature, the one able to help you break free from death would need to be at the thirty-fifth Tier. A level like that is already comparable to a true deity and can be outright ignored."
Fisher opened his mouth, his brow furrowing little by little. He slowly followed the Death Minister's train of thought and quickly found a loophole. Although the hope it presented was extrely slim, it was indeed a loophole.
But just as he was about to speak, the cigarette-smoking Death Minister interrupted him.
"I know what you're thinking. You want to say that life levels are not fixed, and even humans can advance in Tier. So you hypothesize that, even if the probability is infinitesimally small, if a human truly leaped from the zeroth-Tier to the Twentieth-Tier, wouldn't they soon be exempt from death? Heh, if the gods' designs could really be broken that simply, things would be great. Aside from the 'Corresponding Death' I just ntioned, Hela has other failsafes..."
"First of all, twenty Tiers of life level is a generalized concept defined for humans. Its specific aning is actually 'the limit of living beings.' In other words, as long as your Tier is higher than the zeroth-Tier, only deities can help you achieve immunity to death. Secondly, don't you want to know why your Tier has been steadily dropping ever since you were targeted by death? If you were able to fight the Lord of Life, you definitively couldn't be a zeroth-Tier human Magician; otherwise, he could blow you into ash with a single breath."
Hearing this, Fisher looked down at his slender hands. That skeletal appearance was a world apart from his forr Thirteenth-Tier body. And before him, the Death Minister's voice continued to transmit.
"Let remind you once more: this world is a world bound by rules. Any phenonon has a traceable origin... The reason your life level is falling is that Hela long ago considered the possibility of a lifeform achieving a Tier leap. Therefore, the prerequisite step when executing the Authority of Death is to reduce the lifeform to the 'lowest Tier' of their respective race. If they are a Mixed-Blood Species, the lowest value is taken."
Fisher's pupils contracted slightly, and the logic instantly beca clear in his mind. The Death Minister proceeded to articulate Fisher's current thoughts precisely.
"So, according to Hela's Authority, your Tier is first reduced to the lowest Tier of humanity, which is the absolute zero of the zeroth-Tier. Then, Hela grants you the death that belongs to 'humanity.' And the reason you are still being chased by death and haven't died yet is because you seem to have taken so kind of miraculous dicine. It has been constantly pushing your body to recover, elevating your Tier up to the 'First-Tier'..."
"The trait of Hela being unconscious is thus fully exposed. He is currently continuously repeating this process of reducing your Tier to zero. As ti passes, this process will show an Exponential Explosion in growth, until taking any miraculous dicine in the world won't be faster than the speed at which he lowers your Tier. After that, unavoidable death will descend upon you."
"According to this logic of death, as long as the gods do not intervene, even those rare, powerful entities at the Twentieth-Tier cannot escape the pursuit of death."
Upon hearing the Death Minister's words, Fisher was Suddenly Enlightened. He panted, looking down at his own hands as countless counterasures and thoughts continuously collided. Pausing for two or three seconds, he finally looked up at the Death Minister, whose cigarette was already half gone, and asked,
"...How do you know so much? And why are you able to avoid death?"
The Death Minister, with the cigarette dangling from his lips, spread his hands and looked at Fisher. "Let's answer the second question first. The truth is, I don't know why either. I can only give you a rough overview of my experiences."
"You know that the faiths of living beings are very complex. Most humans believe in the Mother Goddess. In the Northern Border, there are also those who believe in the Phoenix, and people in the Southern Continent believe in the Dragon God Fafnir. There's a little bit of everything. Among them, an even smaller minority of beings directly worship the true gods, such as the God of a Hundred Faces, The Gate, and so on."
"When I was young and foolish, the hundreds of small nations in the eastern West Continent were constantly at war. Like most people, I was Holess And Wandering, with nowhere to eat. Consequently, I joined a Death Cult organization in a small eastern Cardu nation. Damn it, out of everything those guys could believe in, they chose Hela, a god with no consciousness. Their daily cult activities were all sorts of courting death—jumping off cliffs, self-immolation, hanging... you na it. They claid that they could reach their promised paradise through death. I followed them every day, engaging in their deadly antics, thinking that if I died, I died. At least they provided food and shelter before the end..."
"Who would have thought that I would survive every single ti we held those ceremonies? At first, I thought I was just lucky. But as ti went on, the higher-ups of the Death Cult actually suspected of lacking faith in order to evade death, and they wanted to execute in public! They straight up arranged for a headsman's axe to chop my head off. At that mont, I really thought I was finished, but there was nothing I could do except obediently accept my fate. But who could have guessed that after a crisp 'Ka-cha,' my severed head flew right back to where it ca from!"
The Death Minister Vividly Described the situation with his palms while smoking the cigarette, shouting loudly,
"Guess what? It scared the executioner to death right on the spot, and the cult leaders all ran for their lives. The cult disbanded exactly then and there. It was after that that I realized I seed to have beco a very special existence. It was as if Hela had missed or sothing—anyway, no matter how I tried to die, I couldn't. I figured I might as well live a good life, but after a few years, I couldn't go on anymore. It was just too damn bitter!"
"Everyone I knew from my hotown was blown up by the soldiers from those small nations. The girl I liked got married and was beaten to death by her husband. I cried as I stabbed him to death, then his family caught and beat to death. Then I ca back to life, got up, and fought his family. Then I died again, ca back to life again, stood up, and fought the servants under his family! Fight after fight! I don't know how many tis we fought, but I killed every single one of them, and I still couldn't die..."
The Death Minister spat out the finished cigarette and crushed it underfoot. He gripped his hair in a fit of frustration, pulling hard as if trying to rip off his own scalp.
"At first, when I found out I couldn't die, I was quite happy. I wanted to do everything and had plenty of desires. Later, I realized it was truly exhausting. I couldn't die even if I wanted to, and I began to resemble the mbers of that Death Cult more and more. All my wishes beca focused on an early freedom from this coil. Therefore, I joined this damn bird society, got so ghost book of a manual, and learned a lot from the boss lady inside, the Lord of Fate, in the hopes of soon escaping this mortal suffering. That's the reason I know so much; she told everything."
The Death Minister laughed mockingly, kicking the 'Death Completion Manual' to the floor. As the book flipped open to the first few pages, in Fisher's eyes, there was no text on them because he was not yet the master of the Death Completion Manual.
"And as a result of my long anticipation, the very first page of this ghost manual turned out to be, 'This manual will teach you the secrets to escaping death'... Heh, it left completely speechless. Fraud! This is a complete and utter fraud! I've been played like a monkey by that dead woman called the Lord of Fate! This ti she told that you might have a Death Rune in your possession—an item that can grant absolute death. She said even if it's already been used, there's a high probability you'll acquire clues related to death in the future, which is why I ca here."
In other words, the Death Minister also didn't know how he was exempt from death. The most likely possibility was that Hela made an error. Since Hela was the most unique deity without self-awareness, he shouldn't have shown special favor to a single lifeform. The only possible explanation was that soone else had intervened.
Simultaneously, Fisher's brain, which had grown sowhat sluggish due to the impending death, kicked back into full gear. He suddenly realized a problem.
Eliog stated that the Death Rune was created by the Demon God Agreas. Based on her vague description, it sounded as if the demon directly stole a minuscule fragnt of Hela's Authority over death...
Then the problem arose: the demons as a whole were locked beneath the Abyss, their strength severely restricted. Even Eliog could only walk the world as a Fourteenth-Tier soul. Yet in the Death Minister's description, Hela's Authority was profoundly difficult to resist. Even at full strength, Agreas couldn't possibly maintain his peak condition. What right did he have to steal Authority over death and craft a Death Rune?
The only possibility was that soone else in the Abyss had assisted him—for instance, a genuine Mythical Creature that had evaded post-war purges and still walked the world: Baimon. However, Baimon was only at the Nineteenth-Tier; could she accomplish such a feat?
This topic circled back to the Demon-kin that caused Eimhart such deep terror. Fisher imdiately linked it to the incident in the Northern Border. Did she plot against the Phoenix Race, forming the Base?
But Fisher vaguely felt sothing was amiss. For example, why did Baimon give the Moon Princess that painting? Was it really just to placate the Moon Princess? What deeper logic and purpose drove Baimon to take the Base? Having hidden within the Turan Family for so many years, it was impossible she had done nothing. Otherwise, where did the bizarre Dream Magic created by Valentiina's mother co from?
Within these few brief thoughts, he finally began to grasp precisely what kind of terrifying entity this Demon God Baimon—who terrified Eimhart out of his wits—truly was. He reached no conclusions, lacked any substantive clues for support, and couldn't even grasp a sliver of an answer. He had no choice but to temporarily set these thoughts aside and return to the predicant at hand.
"Cough... So, the death currently acting upon is the one intended for humans. As long as I find an existence whose rank has reached the Twentieth-Tier, I can break free from it, right?"
The Death Minister looked up and replied hoarsely,
"Right, and it needs to be an existence proficient in this specific field. This is what the Lord of Fate repeatedly emphasized to . It's almost as if she knew we would have this conversation long ago... Anyway, if you encounter such an existence later, can you do a favor and ask if they can send off too? Or, if you happen to et the person who created the Death Rune, can you ask if they can make another one to send off?"
Speechless, Fisher rubbed the bridge of his nose. He didn't know if it was just his imagination, but after drinking so much alcohol, this guy seed to be letting it get to his head. Aside from his immunity to death, the Death Minister appeared completely unaffected in any other biological function; he was indistinguishable from any other human.
Right then, he recalled the warning Erwind gave him before dying—to beware the Creator's Society. He paused for a mont and asked,
"Right, can you Tell Everything you know about the Creator's Society? The Lord of Fate probably allows that, doesn't she?"
"Uh-huh, there's nothing much anyway..."
The Death Minister curled his lip, looking sowhat uninterested compared to their earlier topic about death.
"I can't reveal the location of the Society's headquarters. The Lord of Fate told you will know when the ti is right. The situation inside is also very simple. There are very few true mbers at headquarters; most are generally out operating and performing research on their own, occasionally holding remote etings and the like. Aside from them, there are a few scholars in society who've joined us in secret. They don't have Completion Handbooks. With the exception of the Lord of Fate, they communicate and collaborate exclusively with their corresponding titled minister."
"The titled ministers always leave so of their research findings at headquarters. Whenever an external minister dies and their Completion Handbook is passed on to parts unknown, the Lord of Fate is responsible for retrieving it. If the manual has already been bound, she invites that person to join the Society. However, since your little 'murder and treasure-stealing' spree, and the Lord of Life's betrayal that exposed the Society's research to the public eye, there's very little communication within the Society. It's just the Lord of Fate and the Lord Cardinal remaining."
Hearing the Death Minister derisively call it a 'murder and treasure-stealing' spree, Fisher was rendered sowhat speechless again. He had no idea what sort of image he presented in the man's eyes.
"The Lord Cardinal? Is he still alive?"
"More or less. Or perhaps he was never truly alive? He's always lived inside the Cardinals. Before, he could converse fluently with , but ever since the Lord of Life made a move against him, he doesn't recognize anymore. He only recognizes the Lord of Fate and has beco quite dim-witted. He'll even volunteer to help sweep the floor. The Lord of Fate said he needs to 'relearn' so things in order to recover. He doesn't strike as a real person, and he doesn't have a Completion Handbook either."
"Then, what about the Magic Lord?"
The Death Minister paused slightly upon hearing Fisher's words. He tapped his temple, then shook his head, addressing Fisher.
"I've heard that na from the Lord of Fate. She said the Magic Lord is the founder and forr President of our Creator's Society, but she disappeared with the Magic Completion Manual a long ti ago, whereabouts unknown... By the way, if you hadn't asked, I'd have almost forgotten. The Lord of Fate asked to bring you a clue regarding the forr President, saying you might find it useful later."
"She said the Magic Lord's true na is 'Karasawa Asuka', a woman with black hair and dark eyes. Her appearance differs from the Carduans; her features are a bit softer, very pretty..."
The na 'Karasawa Asuka' uttered by the Death Minister was a series of words Fisher found extrely familiar. It was this string of syllables he had been prompted with earlier, when he was trapped in an impossible situation within the Wutong Tree. After murmuring this na, the tier scale of the Dream Magic he cast had surged to a terrifying speed, until it engulfed everyone, including the Base.
It turned out this was the true na of the Transferred Person who created the Creator's Society. If he rembered correctly, the female voice that had spoken the na to him was the sa person who had conversed with Eimhart—that was Baimon. Did she have a connection with the Magic Lord too?
Wait, Baimon again?
How was she linked to the Magic Lord of the Creator's Society as well?
Fisher, his frail body suffering from a severe headache, couldn't fathom the role Baimon played in all of these myriad matters. He had no choice but to temporarily store her na securely in his thoughts for future reference.
"Well, I've laid everything I know on the table for you. For what cos next, an unlucky bastard like can't be of any help. When you invoke your divine powers, please do give a thought for . Just don't forget if you finally find a way to let die. Here is my phone number... Ah, aren't you a Magician? Can't you just carve a ssenger or sothing?"
Fisher cast a glance at his currently frail condition; if he was made to carve a spell now, he truly would die on the spot. Seeing this, the Death Minister pursed his lips in disappointnt. Reeking of alcohol, he unsteadily stood up and waved his hand at Fisher.
"Never mind then... Hic. Just keep the phone number safe. We'll et again eventually, but hopefully, by then, we won't be this unlucky anymore. You want to live but can't, and I want to die but can't... Haha, goodbye, Mr. Fisher."
Hunching his back and leaning on nearby chairs and tables, the Death Minister slowly shuffled his steps outside until he pushed opening the main doors, gradually fading away into the vast, blinding snowstorm.
Inside the church, Fisher, steadily cornered by impending death, started coughing again from the freezing wind of the open doors. He covered his mouth. The Eimhart book in his embrace imdiately bolted out; evidently, he had overheard everything the Death Minister had just said.
"Good heavens, this is the first ti I've ever heard of such a miraculous thing. Hela... Wait, what is this Creator's Society you just spoke of, and why do they know so much? Also, you finally have hope of surviving! This is truly wonderful!"
"Mr. Fisher, has he left?"
"...For the ti being."
Upstairs, Ilos, who had gone up to hide, heard the sound of the front doors opening below and carefully walked back down, also speaking up. But Fisher didn't say much; he rely lowered his head in constant thought, as though an intractable puzzle trailed endlessly behind him like an inescapable shadow.
The giant bell on the second floor of the Defiled Church had once again reached its hour to strike. Amidst the freezing ice and endless snow, it erupted with a muffled bass note.
"Dong! Dong! Dong!"
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