Alon fell silent at Yuman’s words.
More accurately, he was deep in thought.
‘What is he talking about?’
Behind his stoic expression, he concealed his bewildernt as he replayed Yuman’s words in his mind.
‘Carrying the sa burden as ? Perhaps an even heavier one…? What is this supposed to an?’
Alon looked at Yuman. The clear respect and awe in Yuman’s eyes were undeniable, proving that his words were not a joke but genuine.
“…???”
Alon grew even more perplexed.
‘Does he really think I’m that impressive? Is it sothing like that?’
He recalled the recent admiration and favor the priests had shown him, but quickly shook his head.
No matter how he thought about it, Yuman’s words weren’t the usual expressions of respect or reverence.
Thus—
“Pardon , but… what exactly do you an?”
“Hm?”
“You said I carry the sa burden as you. What do you an by that?”
Alon decided to ask directly. Since he didn’t seem to grasp subtle hints, this ti Alon posed the question plainly.
Without hesitation, Yuman explained.
“I ant exactly what I said. We share a similar burden, though yours is heavier than mine.”
“…?”
“Yes.”
Even though Yuman had clarified, Alon was even less certain of his intent.
However, one thing beca clear:
‘He’s definitely mistaken about sothing.’
There was clearly so misunderstanding.
At a glance, Alon could see no similarity between himself and Yuman.
Even by rank alone, Alon was born into the noble Palatio family, while Yuman was an orphan raised in an orphanage. Their upbringings were worlds apart—Alon had grown up leisurely, slicing into the at served at his family’s table, living as he pleased, while Yuman had been selected as a Saint at a young age after a difficult life in the orphanage.
Beyond that, their personalities, tendencies, and even values were completely different.
From what Alon knew of Yuman, there was absolutely nothing they had in common.
‘Should I point this out?’
He deliberated inwardly.
Not only had he realized that Yuman was misunderstanding sothing, but also that Yuman’s kindness stemd from this misunderstanding.
In other words, clearing up the misunderstanding here and now could potentially lead to that kindness disappearing.
Caught in this dilemma, Alon thought:
‘I should say sothing.’
Ultimately, he made up his mind.
He decided to set the record straight.
Of course, he didn’t want to damage their relationship. After all, Yuman was the right-hand man of Eliban, the protagonist of Psychedelia, and the Saint of the Holy Kingdom.
However, based on his past experiences, Alon knew that the longer such misunderstandings were left unresolved, the bigger the problems they could cause once revealed.
Thus, after careful consideration, he finally opened his mouth.
“Saint.”
“Yes, Marquis?”
“I believe there’s so misunderstanding. Let clarify: I am not in the sa position as you.”
Alon spoke decisively, determined to resolve Yuman’s misunderstanding.
However—
“Yes, I understand. The Marquis bears a burden far greater than mine. Perhaps even walking a path unacknowledged by anyone.”
…???
At Yuman’s response, as though he fully comprehended, Alon opened his mouth again.
“No, that’s not what I ant.”
“Then what do you an?”
“…I an it exactly as I said. This isn’t being modest—I’m saying that I’m truly not in the sa position as you.”
Alon made every effort to explicitly convey that Yuman’s assumption was a mistake. As he finished, he felt a slight headache coming on.
He didn’t know what kind of misunderstanding had occurred, but such situations usually ended up leaving both parties awkward when cleared up.
Dreading the inevitable awkward atmosphere, Alon was bracing himself, but—
“Oh, I see.”
Yuman, contrary to expectations, responded lightly, with an even more pronounced look of respect in his eyes.
“My apologies. I seem to have been rather insensitive.”
“Pardon?”
“It seems I’ve made a misstep. I still have much to learn.”
“Wait, are you sure you understand correctly? As I said, I’m not in the sa position as you at all…”
“Yes, I understand completely.”
Yuman replied with a smile.
The lukewarm reaction was far from the awkwardness Alon had anticipated.
This led Alon to an instinctive realization:
‘Does he… not believe ?’
As Alon mulled over this thought, Yuman spoke again.
“I’m sorry if I’ve caused offense. I had no intention of distorting your resolve.”
“No, that’s not the point. You’re misunderstanding—”
“Yes, I understand perfectly, Marquis.”
Before Alon could finish, Yuman spoke in a way that implied “Sure, sure, I get it. Don’t worry about it.”
His attitude, as if he fully grasped the situation and was rely feigning ignorance, left Alon speechless.
‘What… the person involved is telling you it’s a misunderstanding… what is this?’
Alon felt dumbfounded internally.
“Well then, Marquis, I shall pray for the blessings of Sironia’s goddess upon you.”
With that, Yuman exited the room.
Alon, left staring blankly at the door Yuman had passed through, found himself unable to say anything.
***
Three days had passed since then. By now, Alon’s mana depletion symptoms had mostly subsided, and Yutia ca to visit.
“Are you feeling better, sir?”
“Yes.”
Seeing Alon nod, Yutia, who had accompanied Yuman daily, smiled with relief.
She then reached into her robes and handed Alon a black fragnt.
“Is this… an Abyssal Core?”
“Yes. It seems, just as you suspected, Anderde had been using Abyssal Cores. We’ve identified at least forty of them.”
“…Forty?”
“Yes, and that’s just what we’ve found so far. There may be even more.”
At Yutia’s words, Alon stared at the hollow, gray cube devoid of its power and pondered.
“Using Abyssal Cores to create Outer Gods…”
Of course, Alon had no prior knowledge of this.
In Psychedelia, Abyssal Cores weren’t introduced until years later. Even then, they were simply treated as a chanic to scale monsters’ levels to match the player’s progress.
In short, Psychedelia never delved into information about Abyssal Cores, so Alon had no knowledge of the matter whatsoever.
“Even if these Outer Gods are artificially created, the distinction is clear. Still, the fact that Abyssal Cores can produce Outer Gods is not sothing to be ignored.”
Since Abyssal Cores could circulate, it ant such incidents could happen anywhere.
Having reached that conclusion, he spoke.
“Yutia.”
“Yes, sir?”
“If you uncover anything about where these Abyssal Cores are being distributed, can you let know?”
“Understood.”
He decided to leave Yutia a hint to investigate the distribution of Abyssal Cores. He knew that the Holy Kingdom operated its own informants directly rather than relying on information guilds.
‘Those people are quick to handle heretical matters. If I leave it to Yutia, I’ll probably get information faster than through the guild.’
As Alon continued discussing Abyssal Cores with Yutia, a certain thought suddenly crossed his mind.
‘Could it be… the Forgotten One?’
The idea struck him briefly, but he quickly shook his head, regaining composure.
A fully realized Outer God born from such a phenonon wouldn’t be this careless.
Ending his thoughts there, Alon spent the next two days conversing further with Yutia.
***
Around that ti:
“Are you leaving now, sir?”
“Well, I’ve wrapped up what I ca here to do.”
“That makes sense.”
Alon began preparing to leave the Holy Kingdom, but not alone—
“Oh, hello…! Marquis!”
“Myaon…? What a coincidence. We’ll be leaving together this ti too, I see.”
He was joined by the rcenary group he hadn’t seen the entire ti he was in the Holy Kingdom for the title Investiture ceremony.
“Y-Yes…! What a coincidence!”
“It’s been a while… but why are you suddenly using formal speech?”
“Ah—well, it’s because… oh! Now that you’re a Marquis, the rank difference suddenly feels… overwhelming?”
Myaon seed unsure whether their excuse made sense, and Alon was left perplexed.
“Please take care of the Lord.”
“Understood.”
“Do you hear ?”
“Y-Yes…!”
Watching Myaon snap to attention at Yutia’s words, Alon instinctively glanced at her.
“Well then, I’ll be waiting for your letter.”
“Of course. I’ll write as soon as I return.”
Her calm farewell left Alon with little to say.
‘It should be fine.’
With a light goodbye, Alon departed the Holy Kingdom.
***
Shortly after Alon’s departure from the Holy Kingdom—
Deep inside Yutia’s office, a report was being delivered.
“Three more have been discovered.”
Sergius stood before Yutia, giving his report.
“What’s the count?”
“If we include the ones just found, there are 43 in total. But there are likely far more buried in the underground waterways.”
Despite both being Cardinals, Sergius spoke to Yutia with formal language, his deanor stiff. Yutia, on the other hand, accepted his formality as though it were the most natural thing.
Neither found this dynamic uncomfortable. If anything, Sergius felt a peculiar sense of ease in this arrangent, as though it was how things should be.
Perhaps that was why—
“Cardinal Yutia.”
“What is it?”
“May I ask you a question?”
For the first ti, Sergius found himself asking sothing he had never dared to before.
“What is it?”
“…Why did you let the Chief Cardinal go as far as he did without intervening?”
Sergius knew the truth.
He was aware that Yutia had long known what the Chief Cardinal was plotting. After all, a year ago, she had instructed him to investigate Anderde’s activities in the underground waterways.
Not only that, she had even orchestrated the theft of several Abyssal Cores they had been gathering in statues through him.
In fact, the reason the Machina that appeared a week ago had failed to stabilize into the form of an Outer God and remained as unstable vines was due to the lack of Abyssal Cores.
This ant that Yutia could have stopped the Chief Cardinal’s plans long before they reached fruition.
And so, unable to suppress his curiosity, Sergius had asked the question—
“Ah…”
Realizing he had overstepped, his face filled with panic.
“Why didn’t I stop it, you ask…?”
Yutia chuckled lightly, as though amused, before responding.
“Let explain.”
She slowly opened a drawer in her desk.
Wuuung—
From it, nine Abyssal Cores, brought by Sergius, floated into the air.
After inspecting the floating cores briefly, Yutia destroyed them without hesitation.
CRACK—! CRACKLE!
With a single motion, she shattered the Abyssal Cores—each worth a fortune on the black market, enough to require the sale of an entire fiefdom to purchase even one.
After obliterating them, she spoke:
“It wasn’t to steal these.”
With a flick of her fingers, the shattered fragnts fell to the office floor.
“This trash has no value to .”
Sergius, swallowing hard as he stared at the fragnts, was startled when Yutia addressed him.
“Hey, Sergius.”
“Yes?”
“Do you know what gods eat to grow?”
“Gods… eat?”
“Yes, all gods, including the great goddess Sironia.”
At Yutia’s question, Sergius hesitantly answered:
“…A god is a complete and perfect being, is it not?”
A cautious response.
Yutia, smiling, shook her head.
“No, that’s not the case.”
“Gods require two things: faith and reverence.”
“Faith… and reverence?”
“Yes. And this ti, it was simply ‘reverence’ from the people that was needed.”
As a deep smile spread across Yutia’s lips, a vivid mory replayed in her mind.
The scene from a week ago.
Under the blue moon, Alon firing a lightning spear at the Outer God.
“A mont more brilliant and beautiful than anything else.”
—The magnificent image of the Great moon.
“—A sight that would never fade from anyone’s mory.”
Her smile curved wider, her expression serene yet eerie.
“Reverence ant for him alone.”
Her eyes glinted with a dark amusent.
Within the crimson depths of her gaze, the scene replayed over and over—the radiance, the grandeur, the awe of that mont.
“And that… is the reason.”
With her answer, Sergius could do nothing but swallow dryly and nod.
For in her eyes, a sharp and unmistakable madness shone—a dangerous glint that warned him never to overstep.
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