Wizard of the Deep Sea

TL/ED – Miso

“Are you saying this robe is alive?”

Dersia’s Laboratory.

I had questions to ask about Elysia, but as luck would have it, after suddenly saying “I think I finally get it now!” back in the carriage, only to try rejecting my Deep Sea and fall right back asleep. So I had no choice but to show the robe first.

Dersia came close and examined my robe from every angle before saying flatly,

“For now, I can’t sense any trace of life whatsoever. You say it comes alive when it drinks blood?”

“Yes. The problem is, it uses the blood of the Fallen.”

The Empire did keep the Fallen gathered in one place, but drawing their blood was… setting aside whether it was possible or not, an extremely unpleasant affair.

Then again, it wasn’t as if I could storm into the Crimson Circle and kidnap a few of them either, so while I was mulling it over, Dersia said something unexpected.

“I have plenty of blood available.”

“…Excuse me?”

“I’ll bring some, so why don’t you try feeding it?”

Dersia went to the storage room as if it were the most natural thing in the world and came back with dozens of sealed glass bottles of blood samples… no, blood containers.

Squeezing about three people dry would probably yield roughly this much blood. When I stared at her in disbelief, she narrowed her brow as though she had expected that reaction.

“I didn’t kill anyone. I didn’t draw it all at once, either. I’ve been collecting it slowly ever since the existence of the Fallen became public knowledge.”

“Did you get their consent?”

“If an emergency arises, I will be prepared to respond immediately. However, just in case, perhaps you should remove the robe before we proceed.”

“Ah, good idea.”

After all, if the robe suddenly came to life and said something like, “Thank you for resurrecting me. In return, I’ll be taking your life”, that would be a disaster.

I hung the robe on a nearby rack, opened a bottle of blood, and carefully dabbed it onto the fabric.

One minute, five minutes, ten minutes.

When I applied more blood, it just dripped down onto the floor, forming a puddle. As I tilted my head in confusion, Dersia let out a thoughtful hum and lifted the robe slightly.

“Perhaps it needs someone to be wearing it…”

Dersia draped the robe halfway over herself and sprinkled blood on it again.

Still no reaction.

“Could it be that it wants fresh blood?”

“It’s not some food connoisseur. Besides, this is fresh. I cast a preservation spell on it, so…”

While we were having that exchange, I put the robe back on, and…

-Slurp.

“…”

“…”

The bloodstains vanished in an instant.

Judging by Dersia’s expression, she hadn’t been the one to wipe them away with magic.

Which meant…

“Jern, it appears it can only consume while you’re wearing it.”

“…It seems so.”

In other words, I had to feed it blood while the robe was on me.

But Dersia was right here with me, so.

When I signaled her with my eyes, she hesitated for a moment, then sighed and opened the other blood bottles.

“If it looks dangerous, I’ll cut it off immediately.”

“Please do.”

One bottle, two bottles, three bottles…

I carefully poured blood onto the sleeve, more than the amount the robe had consumed when it devoured the Fallen last time.

The robe swallowed every drop before it could even reach the floor. Only after it had consumed close to ten bottles did the collar finally twitch and begin to stir.

[I, would have, died, if you’d been, any later.]

“Oh my.”

Dersia immediately noticed the collar rubbing together to produce sound and lit up with fascination.

“So it truly is a living being. Until now, the Path of Magic hasn’t reached the domain of creating life with self-awareness… Whoever made this Artifact, it’s certainly an achievement worthy of being called demigod-level.”

[…]

The robe seemed to have noticed Dersia, wriggling for a moment before forming words.

[What, is this?]

“My master.”

[Ki, kill her. Hurry, run.]

“?”

[E, elves are. Traitors, a race of betrayal, stay away from them.]

“So it says.”

It was a direct insult, but instead of getting angry, Dersia simply nodded.

“That prejudice dates back at least several thousand years. This only confirms it’s an ancient relic.”

“Well, it was supposedly made by the First Wizard, so… Oh, right. Hey. What exactly are you? What’s your relationship with the First Wizard? And what do you have to do with the Crimson Circle?”

[I am nothing but an unlucky piece of clothing.]

-Swish swish swish, the robe rubbed its collar together rapidly, as if mixing in emotion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

[I am a puzzle, meant to save the world, a piece guided by that one, one of many, but, because of you, it’s ruined. The world is finished.]

“Huh?”

[Or, originally, I was, a more, complete being. I was, entrusted with the role, of protecting, the True Blood Bearers, from the apocalypse, that would one day come.]

“True Blood Bearers?”

This was another term I was hearing for the first time. Dersia seemed equally unfamiliar with it.

Then the robe suddenly lifted my hand and pointed somewhere.

[Th, those kinds of people.]

It was the sofa where Elysia lay sleeping.

It couldn’t be calling the sofa a True Blood Bearer, so Elysia had to be the one it meant…

…What set Elysia apart was her ability to reject the world while still using magic.

Something clicked.

“You mean people who are neither Fallen nor ordinary mages?”

[Cl, close.]

The robe half agreed and continued.

[A twisted world, one that hasn’t collapsed, but persists. A power, only those who inherited that one’s true blood in its purest form, can obtain…]

…Why was Sharmia suddenly coming to mind?

[True Blood Bearers, draw us to them. I was, waiting for my chance, in that child’s house, its underground. Waiting, to make contact, so that I could protect, that child.]

“Uh, um…”

I was starting to get a sense of where this was heading, and a cold sweat began to trickle down.

[You, put me on.]

“I’ll return it. I had no idea it was a garment with such a grand purpose. I mean, how was I supposed to know?”

[Too late. Far, too late.]

The robe grumbled, expressing the impossibility of it.

[If only, your world had been a little less savage, I could have just acted as a mere robe, and waited, for the right time.]

“…”

[To, to survive. I had to accept you as my master. I didn’t, take on your Burden. I gave up my humanity and became your possession, splitting, the Burden I received as a result…]

The Burden meant for one person and one person.

It had changed that into the form of one person and the robe that person wore, effectively converting it into a Burden imposed on just one person.

I thought it had already given up its humanity plenty just by being a robe, but.

[Even that wasn’t enough. I was slowly, slowly dying. I, the last hope.]

“You said you’re not the only Holy Relic, though?”

[I am the only one. It’s all over.]

“…?”

[The, first thing the Crimson Circle did, was to gather every Holy Relic and hurl them into a world no one could reach. Those like me, who shared the same purpose, have already become nothing more than simple tools, devoid of any intellect…]

“Then you’re of little use now.”

Dersia, who had been listening quietly, crossed her arms and sighed. The robe instantly bristled and shot back.

[Wa, watch your, words, elf.]

“My apologies if I was rude. However, I’ve already heard from my student about the purpose for which your kind were created. The resurrection of your master, was it not?”

[Th, that’s right.]

“Resurrection as a technique is extraordinarily difficult and complex. On top of that, splitting the pieces and scattering them about, that’s akin to flinging a delicate glass puzzle from high altitude and then claiming you’ll find all the pieces ten years later and reassemble them perfectly.”

[…It’s not impossi-]

“Correct. It’s not impossible. But from what I’ve heard, the condition of those Holy Relics, including yourself, is far from normal. Can it truly function as intended?”

[…]

Struck by the sharp observation, the robe stopped rubbing its collar.

But Dersia showed no sign of stopping, her expression pinched as she pressed further.

“What’s more, I heard your other purpose was to protect the so-called True Blood Bearers, yet now it seems you’ve chosen to cling to Jern’s body for survival. To the point where you can’t even absorb the minimum fuel needed to survive on anyone else.”

[…Th, that’s true.]

“Which is why you’re of little use. To us, right now, your value amounts to nothing more than a reasonably effective garment that reduces some Burden when fed blood. The fact that you can talk might even be considered a drawback.”

Faced with words cruel enough to flay the robe’s flesh, if it had any, the collar drooped limply.

Feeling sorry watching it, I tossed out a light question.

“So, what did you mean when you said there’s a way to reduce Burden inside my Deep Sea?”

[…Ju, just as your master, said, right now I’m nothing more than a wretched being, who can’t survive, without consuming traces of the Fallen.]

Even in its somewhat cowed state, the robe did its best to present itself favorably.

[However, precisely because of that, there are plenty of traces to consume in the world of the Three Evils. If, you help me find those traces and give them to me, I can reduce your Burden considerably. O, other things are possible too.]

“Such as?”

[If there are other Holy Relics, I can detect them. Consuming those, can also reduce your Burden…]

“It seems you still don’t quite understand. Even if you find the Holy Relics, the odds of resurrecting your master are essentially zero.”

[…I, was created to save the world.]

The robe trembled faintly as it protested without strength.

[No matter how close to impossible it may be, I must, try.]

“No one would blame you for giving up.”

[If I were human, perhaps. I am a tool. A hammer exists to drive nails. A carpenter who cannot drive nails can pick up a staff and become a shepherd, or open a book and become a teacher, but a hammer that cannot drive nails is simply nothing at all…]

There was a depth of emotion in those words that was hard to believe had come from a piece of clothing.

With a sigh, I made the robe an offer.

“Understood. Since gathering Holy Relics can also reduce the Burden, if you happen to sense any nearby, just let me know and I’ll look into it.”

[…]

After a moment of silence, the robe formed a single word.

[Thank, you…]

Its movements were growing weaker by the moment.

Just like before, it seemed to be reverting back to an ordinary garment. I still had a few more questions, but for the sake of next time, I asked the most urgent one first.

[So, what should I call you?]

[…Nothing remains, and a thing whose meaning has long since faded still clings to life, so… ‘Mallo.’ Call me that.] [TL: 말로 (Mallo) is a homophone of 말로, meaning “the last path” or “final road”.]

Having introduced itself as “the last path”, the robe went limp.

Dersia regarded Mallo, now just a lifeless robe, with a somewhat disdainful expression and offered her advice.

“Don’t take it too seriously. It is certainly useful, but it’s looking in an entirely different direction from your own goals.”

“Taking down the Crimson Circle and surviving are both among my goals, aren’t they?”

“They are. But that robe’s goal isn’t to take down the Crimson Circle. It’s to resurrect its master.”

Aren’t those basically the same thing?

For now I just nodded, and this time Dersia turned her gaze to Elysia lying behind us.

“So, why did you bring her?”

Only then did I remember the reason I had come here in the first place, and I scratched my head.

“Well, this might sound a bit strange…”

“Yes?”

“The truth is, I was thinking Elysia might actually be my savior.”

Looking at Dersia’s bewildered expression,

my deliberation over how to explain only deepened.