#765

Oliver (6)

Step.

Step.

Step.

A boy and a man walked side by side through a dense forest, where twilight descended, plunging the surroundings into darkness.

Though the ground beneath their feet was barely visible and stumbling seemed inevitable, the two walked on without hesitation, conversing comfortably.

“What she said must be true.”

“Are you referring to Sleeping Beauty?”

“...Yes.”

Kevin tilted his head slightly, looking somewhat confused.

The confusion he felt likely stemmed from a dissonance between Kevin as an individual and Kevin as an Archiver.

Kevin, who had no personal acquaintance with Sleeping Beauty, and Kevin the Archiver, who retained her memories.

This paradoxical sensation was a sort of initiation commonly experienced by the early Archivers.

Kevin candidly admitted the strange feeling to Oliver, without trying to hide it.

“It feels weird. Someone I don’t know feels like someone I know.”

“You’ll get used to it soon.”

“Because you helped me?”

Kevin touched his smooth, freshly shaven cheek as he asked.

Originally, that cheek had been marred with fine cracks from overusing the Archiver’s power,

but with a mere snap of his fingers—just as he had effortlessly fulfilled Sleeping Beauty’s dream—Oliver had erased and healed those cracks. It had been almost laughably easy.

However, the one who wielded such absolute power shook his head.

“No, I only healed your body. Nothing more. Processing the Archiver’s power is entirely your own capability, Professor Kevin, and I merely said you’re more than capable of succeeding...though it might take some time.”

Oliver added a remark about time being necessary.

Kevin did not particularly dispute this.

Although Kevin was an exceptional wizard, he was slightly lacking in qualifications to fully handle the Archiver’s power, and he was more aware of this than anyone else.

“Of course, if you wish, I could help. Shall I assist you?”

“You’re asking, knowing I’ll refuse, aren’t you?”

“Of course.”

Oliver pressed both his thumbs into the corners of his mouth, lifting them to feign a smile.

It was an artificial smile, but Kevin couldn’t help but chuckle dryly in response.

“You were better in the old days. Now you’re a bit annoying.”

“Oh, that hurts.”

“I’m joking.”

Kevin made the joke, and Oliver widened his eyes slightly in surprise.

Kevin, joking? Oliver had thought Kevin had even less of a sense of humor than he did.

At any rate, the two walked in silence for a while before resuming their conversation.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Crunch.

“In any case, a war will break out between nations within a few years—not just in the central continent, but elsewhere too.”

“Are you referring to Galos?”

When Oliver asked as though he already knew, Kevin nodded.

“The United Kingdom, their greatest rival, has fallen into tremendous chaos. The capital is burning, and they’re experiencing both an apocalypse and salvation simultaneously, leading to the birth of a new religion. What’s your take on it?”

“Marie must be having a hard time.”

“You’re a good person, but as an employer, you’re the worst.”

“That’s part of my charm.”

“The royal family is in chaos too. The Queen and the first heir to the throne have died—not just an ordinary death, either.”

“I trust the second heir to the throne will do well.”

“Galos will take advantage of the neighbor’s burning house to expand its colonies as much as possible, and if the opportunity arises, they’ll seize it. Of course, it won’t be easy.”

Oliver observed Kevin’s emotions.

He spoke sincerely, and Oliver agreed with him.

The central pillar of colonial rule was the Holy law of the Parter Church, which weakened magic and neutralized black magic, making it a significant aid to colonial rule both physically and ideologically. However, that power was now gone.

With black magic spreading primarily among the lower classes, the environment was becoming more favorable for chaos, making it much harder to conquer and govern as before.

“But Galos won’t give up easily. The colonies have become more than just an economic advantage—they’re a political and ideological issue now. They’ll shed a lot of blood to keep them.”

“Perhaps their own blood will be among that. Then they will realize something.”

Crunch. 

The sound of footsteps came to a halt.

Kevin had stopped walking, and pure white snow brushed past his eyes.

It wasn’t just the snow. The surroundings were completely white, and a vast, frozen expanse stretched beneath his feet.

Somehow, while walking through the forest, they had naturally transitioned into the icy land at the end of the world.

There, Kevin asked, “What if they see their blood and still foolishly refuse to stop?”

Oliver replied, “That would be a sad and tragic thing.”

“That’s a cruel thing to say.”

“You’ll step in before it comes to that, Professor.”

Oliver naturally took Kevin’s hand and gave it a light tap, almost as if entrusting a simple errand to a child.

Considering their respective ages, it was a rather odd sight, but somehow, it seemed strangely natural.

Instead of feeling embarrassed or humiliated, the older Kevin showed only a sense of responsibility and burden.

“Your glutton bag and Corpse dolls keep yelling at me to bring you back. To drag back the bastard who dumped the job and ran off.”

“I think that’s a fair point.”

“I’d like to do the same. Unfortunately, I just can’t bring myself to do it.”

“Why not?”

In the icy land of cold winds and falling snow, Kevin leaned slightly forward and whispered.

“Because the prophecy isn’t entirely fulfilled yet. The prince of hell opens the door, and the true son of the angel descends… It hasn’t all come to pass.”

Kevin spoke with a voice full of conviction.

Though the one who had unwillingly become the prince of hell had bent and twisted himself into that role, it was ultimately just a pretense.

As the Archiver, Kevin could see that the prophecy was far from complete.

No matter how convincingly a fake might mimic the real thing, it was still a fake.

And that was why Kevin felt uneasy. He could faintly see how things might unfold.

“You’re really o—”

Kevin stopped mid-sentence.

Oliver had raised his hand and was looking at him softly.

That single gesture and gaze spoke more clearly than a hundred words, and Kevin decided not to worry further.

“My apologies. I’ll keep quiet.”

“Then, would you walk with me a little further? There’s still a bit of road ahead, and I’d feel lonely walking it alone.”

“I don’t usually enjoy taking walks with men, but fine.”

“? You don’t enjoy walks with women either, do you? Professor, you’re not exactly—”

“—Shut your mouth.”

“My apologies.”

“Don’t apologize. Apologizing makes it weirder. Just shut up.”

Deciding that he had unintentionally offended Kevin, Oliver complied and fell silent.

The journey might have been boring, but fortunately, Kevin soon softened and spoke again.

“The Magic Tower has regained some stability. The damage caused by Puppet was severe, so it’ll take considerable time to return to its former state.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“On the bright side, the disappearance of many previous power players has made it easier to eliminate the longstanding corruption that couldn’t be tackled before. With extreme effort, it’s now just barely achievable.”

“Do you intend to take that on, Professor Kevin?”

Kevin shook his head.

“No, I’ll be leaving the Magic Tower soon.”

“Is that acceptable?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? Archivers aren’t bound to any specific magical organization. My presence at the Magic Tower was simply a decision made by the Archiver at the time. It doesn’t seem like that decision was wrong, though.”

Kevin gazed intently at Oliver.

“And now it’s no longer valid?”

“Exactly. The reason for being there is about to disappear.”

“Then, where will you go?”

“I’ll visit the traditional schools. Puppet’s rampage left them in shambles.”

The traditional schools.

The predecessors to the Magic Tower, magical institutions with far older histories.

Though now overshadowed by the Magic Tower, they had also been thoroughly exploited and disrupted by Puppet, leaving them in a sorry state.

“Are you planning to restore them?”

“Yes. Is that surprising?”

“Surprising... Honestly, it was surprising.”

Kevin was a wizard, but he was also someone who had suffered significant harm because of magic.

Of course, he had saved the Magic Tower multiple times, but actively seeking out distant magical institutions to help them wasn’t something one would naturally expect.

He explained the reason behind his seemingly unnatural decision.

“Because I’m an Archiver... Archivers are recognized as having a unique, unmatched status in the wizarding society because they step in during times like these.”

“Is it to fulfill your role as an Archiver?”

“Only then will it be a proper form of vengeance. Though, I’ll admit, part of me thinks it would be easier to just wipe out all the wizards…”

Kevin trailed off for a moment, staring at the massive crevasse in the distance, then resumed speaking.

“...But I’m choosing not to.”

“May I ask why?”

“Because it’s too easy. Destroying and killing—if you have the power, it requires nothing else. No patience, no care, no conscience. But it would cause chaos and lead to others shedding blood. Even wizards, when cornered, will turn to robbery. It’s a decision too easy for an Archiver to make. There’s a decision suited to every position.”

Kevin stopped several meters from the crevasse and turned to look at Oliver.

“So, go and do what’s suited to your position.”

“Are you not going to ask what or how I plan to do it?”

“I trust you no matter what you do, so what’s the point of asking?”

Kevin’s response, simple yet resolute, carried unwavering faith.

In response, Oliver extended his hand.

“It would’ve been lonely on my own. Thank you for accompanying me.”

Kevin grasped Oliver’s outstretched hand.

“I enjoyed the company too... Will we meet again?”

“...If the opportunity arises.”

With that reply, Oliver released his hand. A gentle breeze carried Kevin away.

In the hand that had shaken Kevin’s was a pocket watch—or rather, something that resembled a pocket watch.

It was the very object Merlin had obtained after defeating a sea monster, once owned by the self-proclaimed Prince of Hell.

Crunch.

Oliver tucked the pocket-watch-like object into his coat and walked toward the massive crevasse ahead.

In reality, it wasn’t just a crevasse but the entrance to a secret base.

Whose secret base could it be?

The answer was simple: it belonged to someone other than humans.

“Of course, it’s not a suitable place for Lilith, though.”

Oliver remarked as he noticed Lilith standing at the crevasse’s entrance.

The girl, housed in the Corpse doll made from Human-meat Chef’s sister Gretel, exuded fear and worry as she blocked Oliver’s path.

Though she knew better than anyone that she couldn’t stop him, she still tried.

Her feelings weren’t just fascinating—they were for someone else, not herself. Specifically, another being.

It made sense. Otherwise, why would a creature born of the World Tree stand in the icy land where the World Tree couldn’t take root?

Oliver greeted her.

“Hello.”

“Oh, hello.”

Lilith replied timidly, a stark contrast to their first meeting.

It wasn’t strange.

The one who had unintentionally created her had now fully broken free of their shell—a fact she understood better than anyone else.

Still, she mustered courage. Perhaps it was precisely because she was scared that she could be brave now.

“Are you here to see him?”

“If by him you mean Puppet, then yes. He’s down there, isn’t he?”

Oliver gestured toward the icy abyss at the center of the land, a place where humans could never set foot.

Pandora pleaded instead of denying it. She knew better than anyone that lying was pointless.

“Can’t you simply leave?”

Oliver didn’t answer.

Pandora continued.

“He’s already gravely injured and incapable of doing anything. I swear it.”

Lilith frowned as she said the word “swear.”

What could she possibly swear on?

Though a spirit, she wasn’t a creation of the divine.

Moreover, she had already bared her fangs at the one who had created her several times.

Who could she swear to, then?

It was laughable, but Oliver didn’t laugh. Instead, he asked,

“Is Puppet precious to you?”

After a pause, Lilith replied.

“...He helped me when I was abandoned and wandering. He’s like family to me.”

Her response was entirely sincere.

Oliver showed a hint of regret.

“Someone once told me I’m the worst as an employer. I think I’m the worst as a creator, too.”

“...I don’t blame you. To someone like you, it’s probably a trivial matter. But I beg for your mercy—”

“—I’m sorry.”

Oliver cut her off firmly.

“That’s a request I can’t grant. I need to deliver the punishment Puppet deserves. So, could you step aside?”

Before Lilith could respond, Oliver raised his quarterstaff and struck the ground.

Lilith vanished on the spot, against her will.

Oliver had sent her elsewhere on his own accord.

With the entrance to the crevasse now clear, Oliver descended into it.

At the bottom, he came face to face with Puppet, whose body was entirely burned.

“Hello.”