Chapter 26
“He definitely came here because he was following Father’s orders!”
Ah, I see—
No, this isn’t something I can just brush off like that.
“So… does that mean your father ordered that guy to kill you?”
“I think so.”
But the look in Irix’s eyes was firm.
That bastard did it. That bastard father of mine did it.
He didn’t look particularly hurt. His voice lacked strength, but that was only because he couldn’t be completely certain. His father was absolutely the kind of man who would do something like that—but there was still the possibility that it was a misunderstanding. That much, at least.
“So what exactly did you do to be such an unfilial son?”
“Why should I be filial to a father like that? He’s the one who makes me unfilial!”
Ah… right.
Now that I think about it, you do have a point.
With a father like that, a little unfilial behavior is understandable.
I used to feel the same way when reading stories where a duke was the protagonist. I’d read them because, well, he was the protagonist, and since he was trying to save the world, I felt obligated to root for him—but as a human being, he was awful. I didn’t want to see a world saved by someone like that.
A sharp jolt—
Looks like aether is leaking out again. Irix looked at me. I quickly grabbed his arm.
“Senior.”
“Yeah?”
“Even if you hold me, it won’t help. So let go. This is pointless.”
“……”
Would punching him help?
Irix grabbed my wrist. Everything suddenly settled down. Yeah, fine—I’ll admit it. You’re stronger than me.
“In the future you saw, what happens to me?”
“You’re ruined.”
I answered without hesitation.
“Completely ruined.”
No—
Not you. The world.
You’re fine.
“Thoroughly.”
Again, the world.
“When did you find out?”
“About three hours ago?”
So, a few months ago by my timeline, three hours ago by this world’s. Let’s just gloss over that.
“Then you ending up here was pure coincidence?”
“Well… yeah, basically?”
“And how did you know I was here? Coincidence too?”
“Y-yeah…”
Anything I wasn’t confident about, I brushed off vaguely. Irix stared straight at me, as if trying to judge whether I was telling the truth.
“And you came here to stop it?”
“Yeah.”
Because I do have to stop the world from ending. You aside.
“But how do you even know me, Senior?”
How do I explain this?
That I read a novel where you appeared?
Even if this is a fantasy world, there’s no way he’d believe that.
So I gave the most appropriate answer possible.
“Later.”
“Huh?”
“I’ll tell you later. This doesn’t feel like the time to be talking about that.”
And it really wasn’t.
The situation itself was suspicious. Just moments ago, crazed flocks of paper birds and Pherigion were running wild, arrows flying everywhere. It was absolute chaos.
And now—
It was quiet. Too quiet. Just dim.
Even Pherigion was still.
Irix and I stared tensely at where Pherigion stood.
Why is it quiet?
Is it choosing which one of us to descend into?
Ah—no thanks. This body already has an occupant. Me.
Granted, you’re a god and I’m more like a wandering spirit, but still.
Pherigion moved.
Has it decided?
The surroundings grew darker, and a cold, rancid wind swept through. A sharp sensation ran through my body. At the same time, Pherigion shuddered.
Irix spoke quietly.
“Stay focused.”
“Huh?”
“You know what aether is, right?”
“I do.”
“And yet you’re this relaxed?”
“Well—”
First, even if I knew what aether was, I’d never truly felt it before.
Second, I didn’t even know I had aether.
“You’re leaking aether right now, Senior. That thing could grab onto the edge of it and drain it from you.”
“Is that dangerous?”
“If it follows the aether back into your body, yeah. Very. Of course, you could also absorb the god instead.”
“And?”
He glanced at me.
“Don’t even dream about it.”
The surroundings had completely changed.
Walls, floor, ceiling—everything had turned into a hollow black void. Empty. As if the world itself had been peeled away.
And inside it stood Pherigion, silently watching us, waiting for an opening—the forgotten, starving god.
[Now, Pherigion makes an offer.]
A soft voice suddenly echoed.
It was him.
[If you hand over a vessel, he says he’ll enter it and grant your wish first.]
“Which vessel? Me, or Irix?”
Irix turned sharply.
“Are you trying to hand me over right now?”
“Shh. Shh.”
[Anything will do. Just give him one.]
Sorry. Neither of us works.
Irix’s body belongs to Irix—I can’t hand that over.
And Elphini’s body already has a prior occupant—me.
[He wonders what you desire.]
“World peace.”
[…That’s impossible.]
“Then I can’t hand anything over.”
And I know what happens to you anyway. You lose your divinity to humans and submit—yet here you are, acting all high and mighty.
“And I won’t hand over Irix either. I don’t have any way to break his free will. No matter what happens, Irix decides for himself.”
“Can’t you just say I don’t listen to you?” Irix muttered. “I don’t even know who you’re talking to.”
“Be quiet.”
I tapped Irix’s mouth. He frowned.
“Why are you treating me like a badly behaved puppy?”
“Because you’re acting like one.”
His frown deepened.
[Your words have angered Pherigion.]
“You’re demanding something from me without giving me a choice from the start.”
I could feel Pherigion’s glare boring into me.
He was furious.
Negotiations had failed. Only war remained.
I did have a way to resist.
Aether.
There are only two options with aether:
Either it’s taken by a god—
Or you take it from a god.
Irix subdued and dominated gods with that power. That’s how it went throughout the novel.
So… in theory, I should be able to do it too.
In theory.
And that’s the problem—I only know it in theory.
“Let’s learn how to breathe underwater. Oh, just use the gills on the sides of your head.”
[Are you going to use aether?]
“There’s no other way. But I don’t know how to use it at all.”
[Then I will help you.]
…Huh?
At that moment, a burning force surged up my arm.
The power that had been leaking out like blood from an open wound suddenly straightened, aligning like magnets along a field.
[We begin.]
The voice said.
I could clearly feel the fierce current of power flowing back through my arm. My ears, eyes, skin—everything felt as if it were being swallowed by blazing light.
[Win. Subjugate. Claim.]
My blood boiled.
So this is it.
If this is what using aether feels like… is this how Irix does it too?
This sensation—like every sense in your body is being newly awakened?
If so, it’s easy to see how someone could become addicted to conquest.
It was incredible.
[Make him yours.]
Pherigion came into clear focus.
Until now, he had looked like nothing more than a black mass—but now I could see him clearly. His form was unexpectedly well-balanced: straight limbs, a defined waist, smooth and beautiful.
Thanks to the aether, I could see the hidden currents within his black body. Like ink mixed with glittering dust, power shimmered as it flowed inside him.
The flow quickened, gathering near his chest. Faster. Spinning tight like a top. And finally, the vortex rounded out into a sphere.
That was it.
The core of power Irix had once claimed.
Pherigion’s core looked like a tiny planet.
Endless dark-blue threads poured out from my body, flying toward that small core of power and wrapping around it. The core swelled, bulging like a boil.
I reached out toward that planet. More and more threads spilled forth, clinging to the sphere as they touched it.
My heart shouted:
Come here.
I’ll guide you.
Take me as your star, and revolve around me.
In the novel, Irix had been the first to claim Pherigion—but he’d nearly abandoned him afterward, having captured so many others.
Though known as an executioner, Pherigion never wanted that name.
It wasn’t punishment—it was execution. And execution meant nothing more than bringing a hammer down on someone who couldn’t resist.
He didn’t want it, but he did it anyway. It was the only role given to him. The only way his name could be known.
Now, a god with a distinct form stood before me.
His outline was sharp, as if cut from black paper.
He was the size of a giant, yet looked like a boy—slender shoulders, thin limbs.
Yes.
A boy giant.
Black iron—Pherigion.
The Hammer of Punishment.
A black god, forgotten and sunk to the depths.
Iron meant to be tempered for justice, yet in the end, a sacred mass of metal seized by the hands of the cruel.
That is the god of iron before me.
Pherigion.
