Chapter 22
Come in already. I’ll welcome you, Peregion—forgotten, starving god.
As he said that, Irix’s eyes narrowed.
It was truly unfamiliar.
Was that really Irix?
Could it be that another timeline existed?
A worldline where an Irix I couldn’t stand existed?
Peregion staggered backward.
The eyeballs embedded in his body widened, his pupils trembling violently.
Then… should I simply take you for myself?
In an instant, the center of Peregion’s body caved inward.
Inside it, a fist-sized sphere was spinning.
The surface of the slowly rotating orb was strange—black, red, green… oily streaks flowed across it like slick bands.
What was that?
Irix raised his hand toward the sphere.
It rolled onto his palm.
He curled his fingers and clenched it tightly.
It was the perfect size for his hand.
With eyes filled with fascination and desire, Irix stared into it.
So now… this is mine?
At that moment, Peregion’s body crumbled like sand, flowing down and being sucked into the sphere.
As though the orb itself were swallowing him whole.
This…
It was the very scene that appeared whenever Irix subdued a god who opposed him.
Those who challenged Irix were not only humans.
Even gods had targeted him.
They descended into the “vessels” offered by those who begged for help, and fought against him.
Sometimes they opened the divine realm at great cost, trapping Irix inside it before battling him.
And every time, Irix won.
He seized their divine rank, made it his own, and forced them into submission.
Whenever he needed a certain power, he would summon an appropriate god and crush them.
Usually, he chose from among the forgotten gods.
There was even a book that recorded only forgotten gods.
Irix searched through it to summon them.
And that book was the Book of Solei.
Later, it practically became a delivery app made just for Irix.
And now—
That very scene was being reenacted right before my eyes.
The process by which a god’s power and rank became the possession of a human: Irix.
Telekus, completely ignorant of what was happening, trembled with overwhelming emotion.
He mistook this for the moment of divine descent—
when in fact, it was the moment his god became a human’s servant.
Congratulations, Lord Peregion!
Irix held the sphere tightly and looked at Telekus.
The corner of his lips lifted slightly.
Telekus waited for the god’s blessing.
After a short silence, the boy spoke quietly.
Absolute Command.
A black shadow surged up beneath the boy’s feet.
Destroy.
Something shot up from within the darkness.
It couldn’t even be seen—
only the faint black thread connecting Irix’s body and the shadow was visible.
And then—
Thud—
Telekus’s body exploded into a storm of blood.
Blood and flesh splattered across the floor.
Success.
Saying that, Irix tossed the sphere into the air.
The orb floated for a moment—
then vanished.
I decided to correct one fact I had known.
The first tombstone Irix erected was not for Maimon.
It was for Telekus.
Engrave this upon it:
He died—through greed and self-inflicted ruin.
My vision darkened again, then brightened.
The scene the man had shown ended, and I returned to the train.
Outside the window, it was now night.
Cliffs shone pale beneath the moonlight, stretching endlessly.
“Good show.”
Irix was already handling Aether with practiced ease.
This was after he had learned how to subdue gods.
[Do you know what this is?]
“Hm?”
Thud—
A massive book was placed on the table between us.
As I stared, the book opened by itself.
Pages filled with complex diagrams, numbers, and writing flipped rapidly.
Each page was numbered.
1, 2…
The final number was 87.
The overturned book turned itself upright again.
On its thick cover was writing that looked more like symbols than letters.
Strangely—
I could read it.
『The Book of Solei』
Slowly, I reached out and placed my hand on it.
The rough cover scraped against my fingers.
This was an item worth underlining three times.
An incredibly important object throughout the novel—
a book containing records of forgotten, sunken gods.
It was not written by anyone.
It had no creator.
It was formed from the grudges of forgotten gods, materialized into substance.
This book appears before those compatible with forgotten gods.
They can only see the page of the god meant for them.
Because the book is conceptual in nature, it can only be read that way.
And those chosen by forgotten gods receive a blessing at that moment—
becoming their apostles.
This book mattered because Irix pulled forgotten gods from its pages and used their power.
Flip—
The Book of Solei opened again between us.
The pages fluttered—
then stopped.
『Page 32
Peregion.
Child-god of Raugina.
The iron hammer cast into the abyss by Raugina…』
It was Peregion’s page.
“Page 32, huh. Such a lukewarm number.”
He said softly.
[The number does not indicate rank. It is merely the order in which they were written.]
Still, it felt like the most terrifying gods would be near the back.
In the novel, Peregion was the god whose name became known only after being claimed by Irix.
Irix called him:
Peregion, the Punisher’s Hammer.
He destroyed anything Irix pointed toward, carrying out his punishments.
When Irix delivered judgment, Peregion executed the sentence.
Every time Irix spoke his name, enemies trembled—
because one single strike of his hammer meant execution.
[Aether is…]
He said.
[The power that draws gods in, the power that dominates them, and the power that can even allow one to become a god.]
And by the world’s setting, the person with the strongest Aether—
and the most freedom to wield it—
was Irix.
[You are also an owner of that Aether.]
…What?
That was an outrageous statement.
I stared blankly and asked:
“You mean Elphini?”
Because originally, I was nothing.
[In a sense, yes.]
“Then it isn’t my power.”
Having Aether only meant you qualified as a “vessel.”
It was meaningless unless you could use it freely like Irix.
Among those who opposed Irix, there were certainly people with Aether.
They descended gods into their bodies—
and still lost.
Because Irix could command gods that were their natural enemies.
Summoning a god was like receiving flippers and an oxygen tank—
then being thrown into the sea to fight a swarm of sharks.
“And if some lowly stray spirit like me could fully take over this body… then it wasn’t much of a vessel, was it?”
He couldn’t help but laugh.
[Oh dear. A lowly stray spirit?]
“It’s true.”
If even a ghost like me counted as a god, then the standard for godhood here was low.
Ah.
That’s why there were so many gods.
I heard laughter again.
[Among those called gods, none were gods from the beginning. They are born, accumulate rank, gain qualification—then become gods.]
He spoke gently.
[Humans, rocks, grass… even insignificant beings gather rank and become gods. And their process, their deeds after becoming gods—that is what stories are.]
[The more stories there are, the greater the god becomes. But everything has an end. When people stop seeking their stories… they become forgotten gods, and vanish.]
“This world has far too many gods. Wouldn’t balance require some of them to be eliminated?”
[That is true. There are too many gods that must disappear… yet humans cling to them.]
Clank—
The train stopped.
The scenery outside began to blur.
The man spoke quietly.
[It is time.]
Everything changed suddenly—
like waking from a dream.
When I came to my senses, I was alone in the train.
It was the connecting car.
Beyond the wide-open door was a dizzying canyon, wind roaring through.
Was it another new place?
No.
The walls were filled with torn paper.
Heavy impacts rang out one after another.
Boom. Boom—
Each time, the train shook.
I had returned.
* * *
Irix stood inside the train that had been torn open like paper, where violent winds raged.
His heart pounded wildly, but now was not the time to simply stand there pounding.
Senior was gone.
He hadn’t fallen into the canyon below.
The viper had definitely grabbed him.
Irix had grabbed him too.
But at that moment, Senior suddenly vanished.
Because of that, Irix and the viper rolled inward.
Someone had saved Senior.
It was surely magic—
could it be Anerica?
If so, that was fortunate.
If not…
then the real problem began from that moment.
Suddenly, Telekus’s enormous hand descended upon Irix.
Darkness swallowed his vision.
The viper clung tightly to Irix’s neck, trembling violently.
“Calm down.”
And you too, calm down, Irix.
You aren’t in danger.
Everyone wants you.
You are always safe.
You will always be handled as something precious.
Thinking that only made anger surge.
Irix, desired by all since birth.
Irix, everyone’s treasure—
yet no one ever treated him as a person.
Amid his rising fury, he recalled the words his father had spoken when he told him to board this train.
‘…Irix. Follow the Order.’
