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Thread: Lord El-Melloi II's Case Files Translation, Starting From Book 6

  1. #21
    改竄者 Falsifier Petrikow's Avatar
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    Just for your information, I added the prologue and chapter 1, part 1 to the thread and edited a few of your posts so that everything was in better order. Hopefully you won't mind.

    I also added the missing images from the prologue and chapter 1, part 1.

  2. #22
    Chapter 3, Part 3

    I froze at the entrance to the village. Was it really this small?

    The village used to be my entire world. Now, it was still where my origins were, and a place that could not be separated from my being. But now, it was so small I could not imagine that they were the same place.

    …No.

    Could I really not imagine that they were the same place?

    “…What happened.”

    My mentor mumbled.

    The village had changed. Not in the buildings or the landscape. Not in the scent of the wind or the color of the light.

    “…Nobody’s… here?”

    That was right.

    There was not a single person in the village.

    Though it was a small village, everyone was busy bustling about it. Everyone played a role there. And yet, on this winter’s day, nobody was in the village.

    We didn’t spot anyone as we walked into it, either.

    The old man who owned the general store and would play games with me was not there. Neither was the old lady who ran the pub.

    I did not see my mother at my house, or Bersac at the graveyard either.

    After we visited and prayed at the Black Madonna statue, we checked the basement, which was also empty. There was just a cold reception room and a table with tea and biscuits, which showed that someone had been drinking tea here.

    We could not find the chubby Father Ferdinand or the short-tempered Sister Illumia.

    “How…”

    I felt that my blood was freezing to ice.

    Beside me, my mentor reached out and touched one of the teacups on the table.

    “It’s cold. Supposedly, the tea was still smoking on the Mary Celeste,” he muttered to himself.

    The ship that he had brought up was one of the famous ghost ships in the world, as its passengers had all gone missing in the middle of the ocean. Indeed, the situation now was very similar.

    Then, he wiped his finger over the edge of the plate. There was already a light layer of dust there.

    “It seems that they have been gone for quite a while. …Though, this also shows that the villagers were in a situation where they could leisurely drink tea. Seeing the state of the houses, it doesn’t look like any natural disasters happened.”

    If there was an earthquake or a storm, and they had left to seek shelter, at least there would be some traces of that. If all of them had decided to leave or if they had been attacked by wild beasts, I didn’t think that the scene would be so peaceful.

    “Svin, is there anything strange in terms of scent?”

    “There’s no smell of people at all,” replied the blonde teenager with a twitch of his nose.

    “But… The scent of magecraft is all over the place.”

    The scent of magecraft.

    What sort of smell would that be?

    Just as I was wondering how he could feel that, Flat inclined his head to look at the roof and drew a circle with his fingers.

    “Yep. The flow of magical energy is really weird. Though the concentration is usually high in mountainous areas, the magical energy here is not concentrated, but abnormal. It should be flowing normally, but here, it’s as if it’s drawing circles in the air.”

    “Shouldn’t it be a spiral and not a circle? And isn’t this sort of thing common in the mountains?”

    “No, no, it’s really circles! Like those super pipelines that keep circling around the same place that got really popular!”

    “It’s a bad habit to draw conclusions so quickly. And scents usually move in one direction anyway. What’s most important is the correct interpretation of the bigger picture, so what you’re trying to do here by jumping to conclusions is completely flawed, Flat!”

    “What’s the problem with reaching the conclusion! It’s like what the Japanese animations say, there is always only one truth!”

    “Didn’t Sir say this many times already? You can only reach the correct conclusion by understanding the techniques used by your opponent! You’re going to mess up one day with your strategy of assuming everyone else can do it just because you can! What we should do now is analyze it as a whole and then try and reach a conclusion.”

    Flat and Svin continued to argue.

    My mentor watched the two of them with a strange expression. It was like joy, but also with loneliness mixed into it.

    As their argument came to something that resembled an end, he clapped to get their attention.

    “Pause for a minute. We don’t have enough clues yet. Even if you come up with theories now, it’ll just make you more confused,” he pointed out.

    Perhaps they both realized the truth in that, so didn’t continue talking.

    Then, my mentor narrowed his eyes.

    “A mass disappearance. Almost reminds me of And Then There Were None (mystery novel written by Agatha Christie).”

    He brought up the name of a classic mystery novel, and then sighed.

    He had come to solve a past case, yet had gotten involved into a new one. I had absolutely no idea what had happened, so all I could do was panic.

    Why… Would everyone…

    Did they disappear into the clouds, or into the earth.

    I could not accept that something strange had happened in my hometown. It was, undoubtedly, the place where I had grown up. The scenery had not changed at all from what I remembered, but the lack of people made it difficult to accept.

    My breathing sped up involuntarily.

    There was a pain in my chest. I felt as if I was going to faint any second. An imaginary fire burnt at my heart.

    Suddenly, a strange smell drifted into my nose. At some point, my mentor had started smoking a cigar as usual. Unbelievably, I calmed down just because of the smell. My mentor slowly held the cigar between two of his fingers.

    “Let’s split up,” he suggested.

    “Split up?”

    “Of course. Since all the villagers have disappeared, we could still get hurt even if we stayed as a team. In that case, we might even be able to reduce the risk somewhat by communicating through magecraft regularly. Flat, Svin, can you two investigate the magical properties of the area?”

    “Do I have to, be with Flat?” Svin’s face showed both the pride of having been chosen by his teacher, and the displeasure of having to team up with Flat.

    “If Flat went alone, the reports we would get would probably be what he was feeling at the moment and whatever nonsense he spouts regularly. The only person who can catch up with him is you.”

    “That’s very flattering, Professor!”

    “You shut up.”

    “Aaaah! No, wait, ow, Professor!”

    Flat was instantly picked up by a strengthened (the magecraft, alternatively, enhanced) claw-like hand. His two legs kicked about in the air. But this time, Svin’s expression did not relax because of this.

    “Sir… Does it really have to be this combination?”

    “Hmm? What do you mean?”

    “No, I just think that you’ll be able to understand what Flat’s saying as well… Ah, but, I would like to team up with Sir as well, and definitely I don’t want to give this opportunity to Flat, but—”

    “So, basically, you want to investigate with Gray?”

    I was surprised to hear my own name.

    Svin also held his breath momentarily out of panic.

    He looked as if he didn’t dare to even breathe deeply. His gaze flickered around the place, and his face flushed red to the tips of his ears. I didn’t know why, but his blond curls were also trembling, like the ears of a small, restless dog.

    “…I’m sorry. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to team with me.”

    “Um, uh, no! D-definitely not! Of course not!” Svin stuttered.

    He was one of the most eloquent people in the classroom, so the prospect of teaming with me clearly made him very uncomfortable. Though I firmly believed that he didn’t really hate me, so I wasn’t hurt by that.

    My mentor considered it for a second before shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I can’t make use of that option. Your nose and Flat’s magecraft are the best suited for looking for clues, while Gray and I, who have been here before, are best suited to investigating the traces left behind in the village.”

    “…That makes a lot of sense.”

    Svin’s shoulders drooped.

    “Though, I understand your worries. I will contact you as often as possible. The only person who can control a nuisance like Flat. My apologies, but I’ll have to count on you for the time being.”

    “Oh, alright! Hand it to me, Sir! You can rely on me for however long you want!” The blond teenager’s face lit up immediately, and he patted his chest with the air of a hero.

    On the other side, “Professor! I’d like to act handsome as well! Though I don’t know if I’m reliable, you can praise me as well if you want!” Flat, who was still struggling while being lifted in the air, said in a muffled voice.
    -End of Part 3 of Chapter 3 of Book 6-


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  3. #23
    Chapter 3, Part 4


    Svin Glascheit had always been “abnormal”.

    It was not just because he was the youngest person to obtain the rank of Pride in the current El-Melloi classroom. Just that was hardly anything. He found it delightful to be able to learn all sorts of magecraft. Though most of the techniques the former Lord El-Melloi had used were now lost, there were always things to learn.

    It was just that every time his bestial magecraft advanced, Svin changed with it.

    Yes.

    He had always been changing.

    Bestial magecraft was the sort of magecraft that changed the user. It wasn’t just the magic circuits that were altered, but the things that connected them as well, like nerves, muscles, or bones. What modern medicine could not transplant could also be affected, like skin, or even parts of the brain.

    Svin didn’t remember what it felt like back then anymore.

    Was he scared? Or was he happy? Though he did remember crying until his eyes went puffy, as much as he tried, he could not recall what he was feeling back then. His sense of self had already become blurred after it had been mixed around. He could not tell whether those tears signified happiness or sadness. “Svin Glascheit” became simply a title.

    Yes, that was what it was, a title.

    It was just a tag used to differentiate between people, Svin thought calmly.

    Besides that, there was no other meaning to it. Though most mages accepted that they would be eventually consumed by the vectors (TN: I am confused by that. But it says that in the original text. So interpret it however you like) of their ancestors, it was especially intense in Svin’s case.

    What he felt was more simple(alternatively, pure or primitive).

    More unstoppable.

    Because when he reached his goal, he would no longer be human.

    He didn’t find it a burden. He didn’t even have the time to think about all this. Ever since they had discovered that his nervous system did not collapse after being introduced to bestial magecraft, many experiments had been performed onto him. Sometimes it was peeling the skin of his back to test his regenerative abilities, sometimes it was sticking his arm into a vat of boiling oil. And now, Svin didn’t even know whether he felt pain when that happened. If he had been completely beast-ified then, he might have even derived pleasure from it.

    Beasts that were deprived of reason were probably pretty far from mages.

    After he came to the Clock Tower, he found some form of sanctuary with Lord El-Melloi II, probably because he(Lord El-Melloi II) could correctly understand him. Under Lord El-Melloi II, Svin, who was not a regular mage but simply a container of his family’s magecraft, was properly protected.

    Perhaps it was for that reason that he hated Flat, who had joined after him.

    That guy’s scent had told him that they were both irregulars from the very start. He must also have known that Flat was another uncooperative, overdone(?), and unqualified piece of work. Because they had no defects, they could not understand others (did not need others). They had both accepted this truth.

    …For that reason.

    For that reason, Gray’s scent was special to Svin.

    The sort of mildly indifferent scent that didn’t belong to a person or a mage and was created by someone from a different realm made the young man feel at ease.

    It might even just be pity.

    Or perhaps it could be some sort of putrid feeling, like narcissism.

    Even so, it was the first time he had cared about a person like this. He had been attracted to that calming scent and had chased after it unknowingly countless times.

    Coming to this place was like he was being clasped within her hands.

    “…Almost like being enveloped within Gray-tan.”

    “Hmm? What about Gray?”

    Hearing Svin mutter to himself, the person in front of him turned around.

    They were in the middle of a lush forest.

    It surrounded the entire village, and was dim even during the day. After they had separated with Lord El-Melloi II, the two of them had went toward the forest in the north. Snowflakes were still fluttering through the foliage overhead.

    Flat exhaled a breath of hot air onto his cold fingers, and continued without a bit of ill will.

    “Don’t you think the Black Madonna statue looks a bit like Gray?”

    “Nobody is like Gray-tan in this world. Just like how Sir is uniquely great(?), Gray-tan is the embodiment of absolute beauty.”

    “Ah, I understand what Le Chein-kun’s trying to say! Like Japanese moe or tea ceremonies! Oh, also, where did we say we were going to start investigating from?”

    “The swamp. I’ve already told you,” Svin said, not knowing how to react to what he just said. They planned on directly attacking the root of the matter.

    “Clearly, that’s the root of all the abnormalities in this village, for safety reasons, Sir and Gray-tan shouldn’t break the taboos, but the same doesn’t apply to us.”

    “Ah, but this village is really so interesting! Everything is all over the place!” Flat said with a wide smile. Though, Svin couldn’t help but agree with him.

    “There are just too may odd things in this village,” Svin concluded.

    “First of all, for a village, there isn’t enough farmland for it to function. If they aren’t self-sufficient, at leas there should be a corporation nearby to provide them with food, but if so, that would mean that the village had value. It doesn’t seem that the village is rich in terms of material wealth, so there’s a higher likelihood that there’s some sort of subject of worship here.”

    “You mean Blackmore Graveyard or the Black Madonna? Uh, it’s not impossible, but if that was the case, this village should be a bit more famous, shouldn’t it?”

    “That’s just a possibility. If it was Sir instead, he would have probably made a more well-rounded analysis— No, he would have already reached some truth that I have no hope of understanding.”

    Sven narrowed his eyes slightly.

    Flat nodded as if he thought so as well. Though Svin wasn’t sure exactly how much he understood, his thought process was clearer than if he was alone.

    “I heard that Gray was being worshipped by them. Is that related? Ah, did she not tell us about this because it bothers her? She’s never willing to talk about the stuff around here, don’t you think so as well?”

    His words left Svin speechless.

    His classmate sometimes had a surprisingly sharp intuition. It was always this way regarding magecraft, but sometimes it would work on interpersonal connections as well. Even though he could not understand matters between people, he could reach the root of their natures. How should people like that be evaluated?

    The young man’s shoulders drooped.

    “…Right. On the way here, she’s had this bitter yet thin sent, like the smell of something that was torn in half.”

    “Le Chien-kun always really cares about the people around him. Why else would he be so cautious with me!”

    It was the feeling as if he had seen through everything again.

    It made him want to make a scene (like fight or something?), but it probably wouldn’t work against the person who was in front of him.

    “How many times have I told you, don’t call me Le Chien(the dog)!”

    After he ground out those words through his gritted teeth, he sniffed the air.

    “There’s a weird smell,” he whispered.

    The footsteps did not stop.

    The young man continued at the same pace he had before. Neither the uneven floor nor the branches in front of him could impede his path. It was the same for Flat.

    “Though every place has its own scent, this place smells the same as the high magical energy concentration of the Clock Tower. However, it’s very twisted. It feels very thick, yet could disappear in an instant if I smelled it. Almost like a pure black bedsheet that has just been washed.”

    “Svin-kun explains the same way as usual— Super easy to understand! Like the how-to guides of famous FPS’s,” said Flat, clapping his hands.

    It was the sort of sentence that would probably get criticized (alternatively, ridiculed) by most people, but for Flat, it was completely normal. The two of them continued carving their way through the thicket when Svin suddenly pointed in a direction with his chin.

    “Over there. You know what I mean?”

    “Yes, yes, of course.”

    Flat nodded and looked as if he was the most confident person in the world. He narrowed his eyes and stretched out his palm so that it was a couple of centimeters away from the ground, and then swiped his hand across.

    “There’s a Bounded Field. Whoa, it’s pretty old too. You might not even be able to find one this old in the Clock Tower.”

    “You should be the one to undo it.”

    “Alright, alright. Then, Game Select!”



    Flat twirled his finger. A complicated pattern appeared beneath his fingertip, but Svin knew that it was just for dramatic effect. Flat’s magecraft was almost solely based on what he was feeling at the time. Usually, this sort of magecraft wouldn’t be able to exist, and the reason that he could make it work was what made Flat Escardos special (alternatively, unusual).

    It was also very rare in the Clock Tower, much like Svin’s bestial magecraft.

    He raised his hand as the scene around them changed.

    A path through the forest appeared, as if it had been there all along.

    “It’s the sort of Bounded Field that we know about. Alrighty, Game Over. Let’s go.”

    Flat walked into the forest, humming as if he was going to a picnic.

    Svin followed behind him and spoke.

    “Now I understand why there’s a rule about going into the swamp,” he muttered.

    “Not because they were afraid that they would get in. Because [they couldn’t get to the swamp at all.]”

    “Ah, it would be problematic if they found out that they couldn’t get in at all. Is that why they set the rule? If so, that would explain it!”

    This could be called a whydunnit of sorts.

    The reason why the rule was set.

    Clearly, there was a secret in this swamp. To protect the secret, they even went as far as to set up a mysterious rule. If so, what secret was hiding there? And why did all the villagers disappear?

    Suddenly, Flat stopped in his tracks.

    “Oh, here we go again.”

    “It’s heavily guarded, huh. Flat, according to this smell, the one closest to us is a lure, right?”

    “Yep. It’s a mechanism that triggers an automatic attack if you touch it, Black Ice! It’s preparing to deal with us now that we’ve gotten rid of the Bounded Field.”

    Flat moved his fingers again, undoing the magecraft efficiently. However, this time he did not manage it in one go.

    “—Achoo!”

    Because of a sneeze, his fingers loosened.

    Suddenly, circuits of light flashed between the trees, and two arrows shot out from the void of a Bounded Field that had just expanded. It was a curse so refined that even a wild beast would have undoubtedly been killed by it.

    “Pallida mors.” In an instant, just after Svin finished his incantation, a translucent tentacle-like thing shot out of his back and struck the arrows from the air.

    “Oh, is that a new trick?”

    “To put it simply, it’s the image of a tail. You’re not the only one who was inspired to improve from the fight with that Grand mage.”

    “Ahaha, Miss Touko’s flying kick really is amazing!”

    “You were the only one who got kicked, okay!”

    Flat completely ignored Svin’s protest and continued to undo the Bounded Field.

    If these two were the only ones who came, perhaps all the doors would have swung open.

    However.

    This time, it was too late. From the moment they reached the village, a gaping hole had already started to appear. Even if they were geniuses, it would not let them pass easily.

    The bloodthirsty intent had gained a physical form.

    “…It’s in there. Was that just a warning,” Svin muttered.

    Flat seemed to have noticed as well.

    When they headed towards the swamp, they had purposefully went around Blackmore Graveyard from the west. The reason they avoided the graveyard was because they wanted to break the rules one by one, but they didn’t know if it was the correct decision or not.

    The foliage shuddered. From the shadows of the forest, there emerged a silhouette that was roughly the size of the two young men.

    “Hmm? Is this the automatic defense mechanism?”

    Flat frowned.

    “—!?”

    And Svin just stood there, deathly still.

    The shadow walked over without hesitation.

    “Le Chien-kun?”

    Svin was too surprised to react to that nickname.

    It was a person.

    Her elfin body was concealed by a hooded cape.

    [And in her familiar, slender hands, there was a giant scythe.]
    *
    My mentor and I climbed up the hill. Though the villagers were all gone, the windmill at the south of the village was still spinning as if nothing had happened.

    It creaked sonorously in the bitter wind, as if it was a giant looking down on some ruins. We reached the hut at the base of the windmill.

    Standing there, I suddenly realized something.

    “…You had us split up just so you could go there, right?”

    “I just thought that was the best course of action,” my mentor said with a surprised expression.

    “Though, if it did happen, I do want to prevent them from meeting. There’s no predicting what sort of reaction would occur.”

    His explanation was not a lie.

    The only reason why Svin accepted what he said was because it made sense.

    But of course that was not the only reason.

    “I didn’t think that Sir would be overprotective. But since you already brought them here, you must be really conflicted.”

    “Shut it, I know.”

    Hearing his bitter voice, I could not help but smile.

    “I forgive you. …After all, you did bring me along.”

    “If it wasn’t for you, I would die.”

    “Alright, as long as you’re aware.”

    When did our interactions become like this, I wonder.

    To be honest, I was still so scared I wanted to scream. Everyone from my hometown had disappeared into thin air. It was not something I could easily accept. Therefore, I was very glad that I had the task of protecting my mentor to distract me from it.

    I quietly adjusted my breathing.

    And then I pushed open the door to the windmill hut carefully.

    The interior was just like Reines had described it, with odd crystalline implements glowing in the dim room. The crystals that used light to communicate were more like mysterious creatures hidden within a cave than machines.

    But the reason that made me and my mentor freeze in our tracks stood deeper in the room.

    “Look at who’s come. I didn’t think that the grave keeper girl would return of her own accord.”

    A steady voice welcomed us.

    I heard my mentor swallow.

    Of course, he must have already anticipated this. Yet, anticipation was not reality. It would still be surprising when an imagined situation actually happened.

    “…Actually, I didn’t think that you would still be here. I just wanted to look for some clues.”

    “Do you find it surprising, Lord,” he said, laughing.

    The faint smell of red wine surrounded him.

    For someone currently in a poor village in the countryside, both the wine and the cape made from an indescribable fabric seemed out of place.

    “Ah, is that the case. The villagers are all gone, after all. It would be natural to find it strange that I am still here.”

    The director of the Atlas Institute— Zepia Eltnam Atlasia nodded as he stood in front of us.
    -End of Part 4 of Chapter 3 of Book 6-
    —————————————————————————————————————————————————— ——
    Last edited by azwhoisverybored; December 6th, 2021 at 08:16 AM. Reason: forgot to put the image in

  4. #24
    改竄者 Falsifier Petrikow's Avatar
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    As I said, there's a 10 minute double post protection.

    Keep it in mind.

    (but with my post now here in between, post won't merge so go ahead)

  5. #25
    Chapter 3, Part 5
    “—Hmm? Is this an automatic defense mechanism?” Even Flat’s voice seemed distant in Svin’s consciousness. The scythe in its hands was too similar to the person he was familiar with. At the same time, the scene was just like what he had imagined when he first heard that they were going to investigate this village.

    “G-Gray-tan...”

    The figure stood in front of the two dumbfounded teenagers and raised its black scythe.

    Only the sound of wind could be heard as the blade swung through the young man, who did not have time to react to it.

    It [swung through] in a different sense than what he expected.

    “…It’s a shadow?”

    At least, it didn’t have a physical form.

    After the scythe swung down, the shadow disappeared as if it had melted, leaving Svin and Flat alone in the forest.

    “Le Chien-kun! What happened!”

    “What do you mean what happened? …Wait. What did you see just then?”

    “Hmm? Wasn’t it just a blurry shadow? But it just disappeared? It was almost like ‘Ghost (the 1990 romance/fantasy movie)’!”

    It seemed that Svin and Flat had seen different things.

    “Oh, also, let’s investigate that place first!”

    As he said that, Flat pointed in a direction.

    It was towards the swamp.

    The putrid smell irritated his nose. Even Svin, who had a better sense of smell than a dog, had only just noticed it.

    Suddenly, a sinister white mist formed.

    No, it was not mist.

    “Evil spirits…?!”

    They yelled in unison.

    And it was on a scale that they had never seen before. Though it was slightly less concentrated than the one Lord El-Melloi II had met at the Separated Castle of Adra, Svin and Flat were not there to witness that.

    “Le Chien-kun, support me!” Flat raised his finger.

    Svin poured Od into the young man’s spell and sped it up as much as possible. However, the flood of undead engulfed their protective shield, and swallowed the two of them up.

    “This is…”

    “Ahaha! This is awesome! Like a roller coaster! But are they seem like… they’re trying to escape something…”

    Flat turned around in the midst of the torrent.

    His eyes, which glittered with interest even in a time like this, looked towards the depths of the forest.

    “Whoa! This’s the first time I’ve seen a spell that’s so intricate and concentrated at the same time, it’s really so cool! Oi, you should come take a look as well, Le Chien-kun!”

    “Ah, don’t peer out of your own Bounded Field, you idiot! Can’t you consider the feelings of your teammate! Also, why would you want to get close to something that has a numbing smell like that? Why don’t you just go die directly, you idiot!”

    He grabbed Flat’s belt and pulled him back in just as he was going to jump out. But, in the current situation, perhaps that was futile.

    “Aaah, what, wait, something’s… Moving!?”

    As Flat shouted, the thing in question began to distort.
    *
    “Mr…. Zepia…”

    I managed to utter those words.

    Usually, I would be listening quietly on the side as my mentor did the negotiating. The reason why I spoke up first this time was probably because it was related to my hometown.

    “Ah, in this mode, I’ve asked you to send messages and to move equipment a couple of times, yes? Though, most of the time it was done by Mr. Bersac.”

    “Please tell me.” I said, a bit more determinedly. “What… happened here?”

    “What happened, yes?”

    Zepia’s voice sounded distant.

    “There’s nothing wrong with that as a question, but it certainly isn’t a good one. Questions in a script should always surround the theme. Everything in a story should be designed around the central theme. That is a simple fact.”

    “…”

    The lengthy response made some part of my heart groan(?).

    It wasn’t irritation. Nor was it fear. It was just a feeling that what I saw in front of me surpassed my perception. As if the person in front of me wasn’t a person, but an intricate puppet, or an insect instead of a mammal. Meeting a mage sometimes gave me a similar feeling, but this time it was different. It was completely different to the mages of the Clock Tower that I had barely gotten used to.

    “I’ll answer you in a fairly basic way. What happened here is simply part of an ancient contract.”

    “Contract?”

    “A contract that was signed long before I became the director. Oh yes, since you’re here, let me give you some information.”

    As he said that, Zepia turned towards my mentor.

    “Even though you’re only a temporary Lord, you must have heard of the Contract of Atlas, yes?”

    “Are you referring to the seven contracts that are said to be scattered around the world.”

    “Yes, the seven contracts. The Atlas Institute is obliged to assist anyone who activates those contracts,” Zepia said calmly. Though I didn’t understand magecraft very well, I could tell that it was a very serious topic. The sort of contract that not even the Atlas Institute could resist. If we swapped the Atlas Institute for the Clock Tower in this situation, I could not imagine the sort of things that would unfold. Though I knew Lords other than my mentor, even if only Lord Valualeta of the three Aristocratic families decided to assist someone, what sort of scars would she be able to inflict on the world?

    —“Lift not the seal of Atlas, lest ye destroy the world seven times over.”

    My mentor hesitated for a second before he asked his question. “Then, I’ll get to the point. Do you know Dr. Heartless…?”

    “Ah, Dr. Heartless, yes?” Zepia’s nails slid over the surface of the desk beside him. The crystal seemed to have been affected in some way, and a clang resounded through the room. It was a beautiful yet melancholic sound.

    “I did indeed make a deal with him.”

    “—!?”

    My mentor clenched his fists.

    “Where is he. No, wait. First, why did he contact you.”

    “Oh, what a straightforward question. I see, so he seems to have left quite an impression on you somewhere outside of the range of my calculations.”

    “Please answer me.”

    The expression of my mentor, who had been pressing the question, suddenly changed.

    The crystal made a noise again.

    This time, the resonating did not stop. It continued to gather, as if it was trying to surround us in a Bounded Field of sound.

    “Ah, has it started? In this village, there is one of the weapons of Atlas.”

    “—!?”

    I held my breath.

    My mentor’s eyes widened as well.

    “One of the seven super-weapons of the Atlas Institute. Its specialty is reenactment. I am already quite familiar with it. Though it doesn’t have an official name, it is commonly called Logos React.”

    “…What are you talking about?”

    “I’m explaining the situation to you, of course, Lord El-Melloi II. What I’m saying are all things you want to know.”

    “……”

    It was just like Reines had said. As if he could understand the answer to a problem before it even arose.

    Even though everything he said seemed so weird, I couldn’t deny that I had been forced to understand something important. Ah, I could say without being afraid that someone would misunderstand me that it was like I had been suddenly told about the location and means of activation of a nuclear missile.

    And in an atmosphere that was so lighthearted that I could imagine we were talking over fish and chips.

    “That is to say…”

    In front of my speechless mentor, Zepia took a deep breath. Then, from his mouth, an avalanche of mechanical sounds poured out.

    “Revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve revolve (alternatively, spin or turn.)”

    It was a horribly inorganic, unpleasantly hoarse, and hollow voice that I could not imagine coming out of the mouth of a human being.

    Like a faulty music box that was focused on repeating one thing to the point of madness.

    Like a howl from a dying wolf, yet so irredeemably comical.

    “Let the past and the present, the present and the past turn upside down and revolve and revolve and revolve and revolve revolve revolve revolve.”

    After he said this, Zepia’s lips curled upwards in a smile, and he gave an exaggerated bow.

    “You could call it the remnants of a possibility. A phenomenon that led to a decisive change like when I metamorphosed in Wallachia (??). …Ah, yes. Let us call it the night of TATARI (祟り, curse), after the mysteries of the Far East.”

    His lips twisted.

    My vision distorted along with it.

    It was not just me. My mentor also kneeled down on one knee. All the light in the world became a haze, and mixed into the darkness. Everything became black and white, like the ink paintings from the Far East that I had once seen.

    “Zepia!”

    My mentor shouted.

    Not only my nerves, but my Magic Circuits could not function normally.

    All my five senses failed to read what was around me. In that moment, I was a bird that fell from the sky, a butterfly that was about to turn back into a larva, a fire that could freeze the entire world.

    “May you drown in the darkness of the night,” I heard Zepia say.

    “Exploring a fictional setting should do. Find the mystery that you must solve. That is the only way you can reach the end, Lord El-Melloi II.”
    -End of Part 4 of Chapter 3 of Book 6-
    —————————————————————————————————————————————————— ——

  6. #26
    Chapter 3, Part 6
    ——Code: Logos React, Re-entering.
    ——Distortion Value: B.
    ——Extracted Time Period: ■■■■■■■■■■
    ——■■■■Program activated. Began replacing targets.
    ——Full process, Clear. Atlas—

    I think I heard something.

    Code that was more direct than usual, and that I could not understand at all.

    When I came back to my senses, I found that I was lying on a soft bed.

    “…This place… is…”

    My voice was incredibly fuzzy. My head hurt.

    After I got up shakily, I went down to the living room [as usual.]

    “Good morning, Gray. Did you not sleep well last night?”

    Strange.

    My body told me that something was off.

    The sky was bright. It wasn’t consistent with my biological clock. Also, why was it so warm? Wasn’t it just snowing? Now, I felt like I was going to sweat if I moved even a little.

    Early summer…?

    That would explain it. However, it was impossible.

    “Gray?”

    Ah, yes.

    Where was I?

    Wasn’t I just confronting Zepia with my mentor? Though I didn’t understand what sort of monster the director of the Atlas Institute was, I was determined to protect my mentor. However, now I was…

    “Gray, are you alright? Did you hear what I said.”

    The person in the kitchen said again.

    How familiar that voice was. Though I had noticed so long ago, I could not make my consciousness accept it. My brain could not process what my sensory organs were saying to it. I could not believe the combination of this season and this person.

    “Um…. Why… am I here…”

    “What are you talking about?”

    I heard a gentle chuckle.

    “This is your home. Are you not fully awake yet?”

    The person that said that walked out of the kitchen with a freshly-baked loaf of bread and appeared in front of my eyes.

    Ah, I knew this person. It was the person who I understood the most. The person who was the most unforgettable to me. And of course that was the case, because that person had been with me from the moment I was born, and had been the happiest to witness my transformation.

    The sweet smell of the bread evoked a strong feeling of nostalgia and a similar degree of fear.

    “[…Mother…]”

    I moaned.
    -End of Part 6 of Chapter 3 of Book 6-
    —————————————————————————————————————————————————— ——

  7. #27
    What I've posted here has finally caught up with what I've actually translated, so expect the updates to take a bit longer from now on.
    Chapter 4, Part 1




    “How was yesterday?”

    The kind voice reached my ears.

    I still stood there, stunned and unable to understand what had happened.

    “Didn’t you guide the new visitors around the village? His name was Mr. El-Melloi II, wasn’t it?”

    “Oh, um… yes.”

    These words were also familiar. If I didn’t remember incorrectly, it was the second morning after I had first seen my mentor. If that was the case, then the heat was explainable.

    But what had happened to cause this?

    What was this sort of interaction that I could only encounter if I travelled through time?

    Most importantly, if the person who was talking to me really was my mother, asking the same question with the same expression she had before, how was I to respond?

    “Mother…”

    I muttered, and turned to the mirror as I suddenly realized something.

    [It was my usual face. The illusion cast there by Flat had already been undone.] If I had really returned to the past, then it would only be natural that my clothes and face would be the same as they had been then. Since I came to London, most of the clothes I wore were picked for me by Reines and my mentor, so they were quite different from what I wore in the past.

    I tried to surprise my feelings of surprise as I sat down at the table, while my mother served me my breakfast. Fresh-baked bread with milk and pickled onions sat there in the morning sun. Everything there made me shudder.

    “I had a strange dream yesterday.”

    My mother said, across from me.

    She tore her bread into two, and spread butter on them. A soft aroma came from it. I remembered that when I was little, I used to spread a large dollop of butter whenever I could, and that I kept getting berated for doing so.

    “I dreamt that the visitor took you away. Strange, isn’t it? That sort of thing is completely impossible.”

    “…Yes.”

    I nodded, somewhat unsettled by that.

    Did we have this conversation before? I didn’t remember. I still couldn’t process the situation, and my heart was pounding loud in my chest.

    I started eating the breakfast in front of me.

    It was something that I had tasted hundreds of times before. Though it was so plain it could not compare to the fancy dishes I had had after going to London, it didn’t taste bad. However, because of the fear I felt now, I hesitated to even swallow. After nearly choking countless times, I was finally about to finish when my mother stood up.

    “Well then, I’ll go pray to the Holy Mother now, and then I’ll go see Grandma. Say hello to Mr. Bersac for me.”

    She walked a couple of steps before turning around as if she had suddenly thought of something.

    “Oh yes, though your work as a grave keeper is important, don’t devote everything to it. After all, you are the blessed child.”

    I had heard these words countless times.

    Though I had never forgotten about them, my memory had become blurred in all the days that had passed and the cases I had experienced in London. Hearing my mother say those things again gave me a feeling of being strangled by someone.

    “…I know.”

    I lowered my head. This time, my mother left completely. I trudged up the stairs and back to my own room. In the corner of the room, I called out in a quiet voice.

    “…Add.”

    It was like a prayer.

    The Add then had been talkative and loud. It(he?) was still the Add that called me “Idiot Gray” and would tease me at every opportunity. It was the annoying box that was always laughing, the only one in the village who—

    There was no reply.

    I hesitantly undid my hook, and took the cage from my right shoulder. The eyes on the small box were firmly shut, as if it had been carved like that in the first place.

    “…Add. Why, Add…”

    Why was he not here to accompany me at this time, of all times? I hugged the cage tightly, and couldn’t muster the energy to move for quite a while.
    -End of Part 1 of Chapter 4 of Book 6-
    —————————————————————————————————————————————————— ——
    Last edited by azwhoisverybored; December 7th, 2021 at 06:09 AM.

  8. #28
    祖 Ancestor Sione's Avatar
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    Damn you're on a roll. Just getting anything in TM actually translated to EN is a miracle in itself, so no need to rush. In any case, thank you for the translations.

  9. #29
    太陽神の子 Lamp's Avatar
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    There's not much left so take your time.

  10. #30
    This part is really, really long.

    Chapter 4, Part 2
    Eventually, I left my home and trudged to the village.

    All the villagers seemed to be here. Though that could only be expected if I was really in the past, the suddenness made me feel like I had become a ghost.

    If only this was a dream. But as I walked through the village, wiping sweat from my forehead, another thought crept up on me. It was almost as if…

    What I had done after I left my hometown and went to London was all a dream.

    No, this thought was more normal. There aren’t that many people who have powerful enough imaginations to think that someone like me would study in a school of magecraft, become the disciple of a Lord, and escape death several times. Though I did like reading and would immerse myself in a pile of them whenever given the chance, this degree of delusion was too much.

    “…No, I was there.”

    I shook my head and said determinedly.

    If I didn’t I would have gone with the flow in an instant. The fresh air of the mountains, the intense sunlight, the smell of the dirt, and the dilapidated houses were all too familiar to me. And because it was the place I had been born and raised in, it was so familiar it scared me.

    In front of the church, I saw someone who could nearly be described as spherical.

    A chin that had three folds and a stomach that made me think of an elephant or a hippo made it seem unbelievable that he could fit in his priestly outfit. His limbs looked like they had been poked into his torso, in a way that some people might find humorous.

    It was Father Fernando.

    Standing next to him was the freckled nun with a cute pout on her face.

    “What’s the matter with you, eh?”

    The nun suddenly spoke to me.

    “W-what.”

    “You look pretty pale. Your body’s pretty important to this village, isn’t it? Doesn’t it worry people if you wander around with that sort of expression?”

    “…T-thank you.” I could not help but blink at her unexpected words. Father Fernando and Sister Illumia were part of the few people in this village who did not see me as an object of worship, and I never recalled having this sort of conversation before. Father Fernando watched us from the side and spoke.

    “Hmph. Your mother came just then saying that she was going to pray to the Holy Mother, are you going to as well?”

    “Oh, no, I didn’t intend on doing that.”

    “Also, I heard that you guided the guests around here yesterday, yes?”

    “…Um, yes.”

    “Did they say what they came here to do?”

    “N-no, we didn’t talk about that.”

    That was what I remembered.

    Half a year ago, I think I just explained the situation with the graveyard and the village. Though I didn’t remember the details, I still had some idea of what we discussed.

    “Is that so. Of course, the best-case scenario would be that they’re just tourists, but the villagers seem a bit too tense.”

    …He seemed to be talking to himself for that last sentence.

    “If you have any troubles, please tell me. Didn’t I say that the gates to the Church are always open? If you have anything you want to talk to us about besides the Holy Mother, I would be glad to listen.”

    “…Thank you very much. Where are you and Miss Illumia going?”

    “We’re going shopping. Isn’t there a merchant coming today?”

    The nun fanned the air with her hand.

    Though the village was still not connected to the electricity grid (TN: That answers my earlier question), there were still people coming once in a while to bring natural gas and other similar resources. All of my books also came this way.

    “Alright, Illumia, let’s go.”

    “Fine, fine, Your Excellency(?). After all, if we walk too quickly your knees’ll give up on you.”

    “Ugh.”

    The nun shrugged, and the priest glared at her before they began to leave. Either way, the conversation I had with the two of them did make me a bit calmer.

    I closed my eyes and considered.

    …What.

    What even happened. I still could not understand. Though, if I were to continue my day according to my usual routine, I knew where I should go. So, I walked around the church and made my way to the dilapidated hut. A crisp noise welcomed me. The black-clothed old man happened to be chopping firewood.

    He held a massive (TN: The original sentence had a metaphor I had trouble understanding, got rid of it) axe in one hand and chopped his daily portion of wood rhythmically.

    It was supposed to be a sight that I had seen countless times, but I had only realized now how impressive it was for someone of Bersac’s age to be able to pull off such a feat.

    He spoke to me without even turning around.

    “You’re a bit late today, Gray.”

    “I accidentally… wandered around a bit.”

    I put a hand to my chest and adjusted my breathing, silently observing the room around me.

    There appeared to be nothing unusual about the room or Bersac. They were exactly the same as I remembered. I stared at the back of the grave keeper for a while as he solely chopped wood for a while before I spoke up again.

    “Um… Mr… Bersac.”

    “……”

    There was no response.

    That, too, was as usual. He wasn’t always silent, and even became a bit verbose when he need to be, but I assume that he was just disinterested in small talk. So, I didn’t mind it and asked my question.

    “…Don’t you think, there’s something going on in the village?”

    The hand that held the axe suddenly stopped.

    Bersac wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned around to look at me.

    “What do you mean.”

    “N-nothing, it’s just, like, if suddenly everyone disappeared and came back or something, or if winter suddenly turned into summer…”

    “…What are you talking about?”

    The wrinkles between Bersac’s eyebrows deepened.

    They were different from my mentor’s, which appeared completely because of annoyance, the lines on Bersac’s face were because of the hardships he had faced as a grave keeper over the years. He withstood the wind and the rain, and would sometimes even have to spend days on end hunting in the forest. It would be inconsiderate to simply attribute it to the differences between internal and external factors. (?)

    I forced myself to restrain my breathing and glanced at him timidly.

    “…I saw something like that in a book, so I had a strange dream.”

    Bersac accepted my explanation surprisingly easily.

    Speaking of which, he was, unexpectedly, a great lover of books, which was probably why he could relate to what I just said. When I used to be negative about everything, I had found a haven in his collection of detective and adventure novels.

    “Before we talk about that, there’s something I want to tell you about the visitor yesterday,” Bersac said seriously, putting down his axe.

    “Has… something happened?”

    “He asked me about your face.”

    I was startled for a moment, and then touched my own face. The face that was there after Flat’s illusion had disappeared.

    “About, my face.”

    “About how you seem to have the same face as a certain hero of the past. He also told me why he would know about it as a Lord of the Clock Tower.”

    Ah, yes. We had had this conversation before. I did not remember how long I stood there in a state of shock back then. I never thought that someone from the outside would know about my face.

    And for that reason, that thought nested into my mind like a baby bird.

    —He was afraid of my face.

    —He was afraid of my face even though he knew about it.

    At that time, that was like a shining beacon in the darkness to me.

    If it was just that he didn’t know what my face was, it would just be the same to me as Father Fernando’s indifference.

    But, he was the first person who knew what meaning my face had yet still felt afraid of it.

    He gave me the choice to hate the [face that was my own, but also someone else’s] that had always tormented me. It was for this reason that I ended up becoming his disciple.

    I reflected upon this miracle-like experience once again.

    “…What? You’re staring off into the distance again.”

    “N-nothing. B-but why would he ask about my face?”

    “That visitor seems to want to hire a grave keeper of Blackmore Graveyard.” As he said this, Bersac glanced over at me. “Undoubtedly, you are one of the options. Though, the village probably won’t let you go. After all, this place has run on this system for a long time now.”

    “…Yes.”

    What he said was right.

    So back then, our conversation had ended there. Though there could be a miracle, I had managed to convince myself that such a thing wouldn’t happen to someone like me. Though it was a bit sad, I didn’t think too much else of it back then.

    At least, that was probably the case. (TN: Alternatively, that was what was meant to be, I’m not really sure what it’s referring to)

    “…Um, after that, what else did you talk about?”

    “Hmm?”

    Hearing my question, Bersac turned around, slightly surprised.

    “It’s a rare sight to see you interested in this sort of thing.”

    “I-is it rare. …After all, it’s related to me.”

    “Well, that is true. He is a Lord of the Clock Tower, so I couldn’t just lie. So I told him everything, from the origin of your face to the existence of Add.”

    The origin of my face.

    That was to say, one of the great heroes of Britain— King Arthur.

    Ah, please don’t laugh. Even I found it almost laughable that King Arthur would be a girl. However, it was the legend that had always circulated throughout this village. They even had what they said was the Noble Phantasm of that hero, which was Add.

    Bersac cast a glance at my right shoulder. “That thing’s pretty quiet. Usually, it would be commenting all sorts of things by now, wouldn’t it.”

    “…Um, I suppose we both didn’t sleep well last night.”

    “Hmph. Is that the case.”

    As he said that, Bersac stroked his stubble. Add remained silent. It made me feel as if my heart had fallen into the depths of an ice cellar.

    “Either way, I still need to investigate deeper. Can you guide the guest again today?”

    These words made me feel as if I had frozen.

    Bersac asked me to go find my mentor. But, maybe my mentor was the same in this situation. If I met a version of my mentor that had no memory of the past six months I had spent with him, I didn’t know if I would be able to handle it.

    “What? Did something happen yesterday? As a mage, it wouldn’t be odd for him to have some sort of strange penchant, or for him to have done something difficult to believe (?)… Wait, did that Lord do anything…”

    “N-No! Nothing like that!”

    I shook my head hurriedly and interrupted him.

    Bersac stared at me surprisedly for a while, but possibly because he thought that I wouldn’t have hidden anything from him with my nature back then, he just held up the basket beside him.

    “I suppose that it’s lunch. Help me deliver it to the visitor.”

    “…S-sure.”

    As he passed the basket to me, he asked me that question again.

    “What happened?”

    His soldierly eyebrows knitted together.

    “I feel like something’s off about you. Did you get heatstroke? Or is there something you want to buy from the merchant?”

    “…No, n-nothing at all.”

    I denied it and left the hut as if I was escaping from him.

    The hunting lodge for guests was close by. I got there very quickly. Though I could have gone the long way around, I never thought of doing so. I felt as if my bones and muscles had suddenly become cogs and springs, and I had become a mechanical robot.

    I froze in front of the door.

    I was so terrified of taking the next step that even my throat hurt.

    I bit my lip. With the taste of iron rust in my mouth, I pushed open the door as if I was risking my life in doing so.

    That person was sitting next to the table by the door.

    Long, black hair, slender fingers, and a cigar in his mouth. Wearing the same outfit he had been in back then. Observing me as I entered.

    What should I do.

    What was I meant to do?

    I was so scared, so worried. How was I to tell him that we had known each other for over half a year, and experienced so many cases together? I could not convince him, that would be impossible. No, I’d rather that it was all a delusion. If his response would be to gently try and comfort a random girl from the countryside, how was I supposed to live out the rest of my life?

    Even so, I spoke uncontrollably in a rasping voice. “S-sir…”

    For a moment, silence filled the room.

    And then—

    “…Thank God.”

    My mentor breathed a sigh of relief.

    “It seems you are the Gray that I know.”

    “Sir!”

    It was impossible to describe exactly how reassuring those words were to me.

    All the worry and uneasiness that had ensnared my heart dissipated in an instant.

    I could not help but fall to the ground.

    “Gray.”

    “I-It’s okay, I’m alright.”

    I raised one hand to stop him from standing up and put the other on my feeble knees.

    I felt as if tears would fall out of my eyes at any moment if I wasn’t careful. I wiped the corners of my moist eyes, trying to make it seem casual. I bent over slightly and nodded.

    “I’m really…alright… I’m… so glad…”

    I still could not raise my head. I was so grateful to have a hood.

    My mentor did not rush me either. His silence was so comforting I could not help but want to cry again. The smell of the cigar was the same as it always had been, but it reminded my heart of the more than half a year of time that I had definitely experienced.

    I put down the basket and tried to calm my racing heart.

    “Um, Sir, when did you—” I started to ask.

    “I woke up a couple of hours ago. I found that this was similar to the place where I met you from chatting with some of the villagers,” my mentor said carefully choosing his words.

    That was to say, he woke up at around the same time I did.

    “Where are Flat and Svin?”

    “I don’t know. I can’t detect them with magecraft either.”

    As he said this, my mentor shook his head.

    This time, a sorrowful expression appeared on his face.

    “…Should I have not brought them along?”

    “Of course not.”

    I shook my head.

    “Think about it, the two of them aren’t going to get defeated that easily. Even if we can’t contact them, they’ll certainly make a big scene, and make the situation even more complicated.”

    “…Well, you’re not wrong.”

    My mentor took his cigar in his fingers and smiled bitterly (alternatively, wryly).

    As I looked up at the smoke that slowly drifted towards the ceiling, I asked my mentor the question that had been bothering me for a while.

    “Are we really in the past?”

    “It’s hard to say.”

    My mentor tilted his head.

    “It does seem that way. My body also feels normal. Though we can’t just assume that this is the past solely based on that. It’s too strange, after all.”

    “Is it impossible even with magecraft?”

    “Hm.”

    My mentor frowned.

    “Well, it’s not completely impossible. I’ve heard that the Fifth Magic and similar things that reach the realm of Magic are capable of achieving a similar feat,” he answered after a brief moment of thought.

    “…If that’s the case, would the Atlas Institute be able to do something like it?”

    “……”

    My mentor was silent for a minute.

    “No, if it was just the person who cast the spell, then perhaps, but sending someone with no will to assist the magecraft at all would be incredibly difficult. Atlas alone probably doesn’t have this sort of technology.”

    “What if Heartless helped with it?”

    “Impossible.”

    My mentor shook his head. (TN: this is the fifth time a head has been shaken in this part.)

    “In theory, it might be possible, but unless the Barthemeloi in charge of the Department of Law commanded all the members of the Aristocratic faction to partake in this sort of a project, it simply could not be achieved. Displacing people to the past is a type of Grand Magecraft that might even require the assistance of the entire surface world. Even if Heartless had some unknown power and obtained the full support of the Atlas Institute, it wouldn’t be something that could be easily accomplished.”

    “O-oh, is that the case.”

    If my mentor thought that way, that was probably the truth.

    At least, I’ve never seen my mentor misinterpret anything about magecraft. Though he would always struggle with different theories at the hypothesis stage, I had never seen him make mistakes in anything he could confidently assert.

    Of course, this was because he had carefully eliminated every possibility that might make him unsure of something. …I could say that it was the exact opposite of his usual lack of self-confidence.

    “Oh, by the way, by the time I came to my senses, Reines had already left. After all, she left first thing in the morning.”

    Was this the order of events?

    I did remember Reines saying that my mentor had asked her to return to the Clock Tower with an uncharacteristic forcefulness.

    “So you really sent Reines back just because of my face.”

    “Yes. Like I said before, I made sure that your face was the same as that of a past hero. I also heard that there was a Noble Phantasm related to King Arthur in this village.”

    Bersac had said something similar to me just then.

    The relationship between me and King Arthur. The history of the village. Even Add— a tool created to activate the Noble Phantasm within it— was part of an ancient plan.

    Even if they had forgotten the original meaning of the plan, they still continued acting on it lifelessly.

    “…Back then, I didn’t get to ask in further detail,” my mentor said in a low voice. “I planned on doing so, but I never got the chance because of the case that happened.”

    “…Yes.”

    I nodded.

    I continued my mentor’s point. “…Because I will die here, tomorrow.”

    That was the way the case had ended in the past.

    The incident that caused me to leave my hometown and enter the Clock Tower with my mentor. Originally, my mentor was probably going to investigate deeper into that case. But because of what Bersac said to him, and because of the situation in the village then, he chose to give up.

    My mentor pursed his lips.

    “You’ll die tomorrow at the church, yes? Looking back on it, I still think that it’s absolute nonsense.”

    I understood why he was angry.

    He was worried if the [me right now] would die because of it. I couldn’t not feel happy that he was angry about this for my sake. It must be laughable to feel happy about a topic related to life and death.

    “Who committed this crime, and for what?”

    Whodunnit.

    Whydunnit.

    Only the Whydunnit was meaningful in a case related to magecraft. My mentor had said this countless times. If that was the case, then, what about this case?

    “…Find the mystery that you must solve.” I recalled what Zepia had said to us. “Does that refer to this mystery?”

    “Ridiculous.”

    My mentor shook his head. (x6)

    “Though, this could be a challenge. One from the director of the Atlas Institute.”

    Was that what it meant.

    To find out the reason that I— the grave keeper Gray had died here. I did not know who the Gray who had died then was. In fact, I had not even seen the corpse. Was the person who died really me? Or was it someone who looked identical to me, who I had never seen?

    A chill ran up my spine as if ice was seeping forth from my bone marrow (TN: Oddly specific, but okay). Though I had been involved in many difficult cases before, this time was different. After all, the mystery here was directly related to me.

    “It’s not impossible,” my mentor nodded and said.

    “If we don’t solve the mystery, we can never escape this place that resembles the past— Let’s call it the second cycle (二回目) for now— and can never return to the present. I guess that’s what the challenge entails.”

    “…I think so as well.”

    The mystery that we needed to solve.

    The puzzle that the director of the Atlas Institute had given us.

    Though I didn’t know why the village would be empty, one of the reasons must be related to this mystery. Perhaps it was even related to why Dr. Heartless contacted Zepia in the first place.

    “Alright, I accept. After all, I can’t exactly refuse.”

    “Um, yes!”

    Hearing my mentor’s words, I nodded vigorously.

    “Where should we start investigating from, then?”

    “As for that… According to what happened in the past, I will meet again with Bersac at dusk. Let’s first list out the events that happened in this event.”

    My mentor took his notebook out from his pocket and started writing fluidly with an ink pen.

    “There is another important detail about the past,” I added in a small voice as I watched him. “On the third day after you and Miss Reines arrived in this village, which is to say this afternoon, I decided to follow you.” I felt my face heat up because of embarrassment.

    Back then, I hated talking to my mentor with this face.

    After that, out of guilt for accidentally touching on my trauma, he told me his goal. —When he was young and immature, he had attended a war somewhere, and had made irreparable mistakes. Though he could never make up for them, he was still a fool. But he wanted to prove that the people (TN: yep, people, not person) with whom he was involved with were noble and deserved praise. That was the reason why he wanted to borrow the strength of the grave keepers of Blackmore.

    To be honest, at the start, I had not understood what he was talking about at all.

    Forget Holy Grail Wars, I didn’t even have a grasp on the concept of magecraft back then. I probably wouldn’t have understood what he said even if he took the time to explain to me.

    However, his intent (alternatively, will? Emotion?) reached me.

    For the first time in my life, I felt this kind of enthusiasm.

    And like that, I had said that I could accept his commission if he needed a grave keeper, words that were unbelievable even to myself back then. I never considered how I was to convince my mother or Bersac to let me leave. I did not understand why I committed to it to such a degree.

    But, I’m sure that many people have experienced something that suddenly changed their lives. If he could do this much for someone else’s sake, I really couldn’t stop myself from wanting to help him.

    However, we had made a promise.

    —“I hope… you can continue hating my face.”

    “…Well, that was a thing, yes. (TN: this sounds so weird and I don’t know how to fix it)”

    As he said that, he smiled somewhat.

    Our connection started there. Not when we first met, but when we shared the mistakes we had made.

    My mentor continued to take notes.

    It went like this.

    Day 1, Morning: Lord El-Melloi II and Reines depart from London.

    Day 1, Afternoon: Lord El-Melloi II and Reines meet Bersac and arrive at the village.

    Day 1, Evening: Lord El-Melloi II and Reines visit the church and spend the night at the lodge.

    Day 2, Morning: Lord El-Melloi II and Reines tour the village and the graveyard.

    Day 2, Afternoon: Lord El-Melloi II and Reines meet with Bersac.

    Day 2, Evening: Lord El-Melloi II talks with Bersac.

    Day 3, Early Morning: Lord El-Melloi II asks Reines to return to London.

    Day 3, Afternoon: Gray accepts Lord El-Melloi II’s invitation.

    Day 3, Evening: Bersac talks to Lord El-Melloi II.

    Day 4, Morning: The corpse of the false Gray is discovered.

    Day 4, Morning: Lord El-Melloi and Gray leave the village together.

    “…Yes.”

    My mentor put a finger on his notes and nodded.

    “Though might leave out some details about who we met or what we talked about, it should be a decent summary of what we did back then.”

    “…It should be accurate.”

    It matched up with my memory and what Reines had said.

    Basically, Reines had been with my mentor all the way up to the morning of the third day. That period of time probably took up around seventy percent of the entire trip.

    “We have no choice but to take a different route than we did before,” my mentor said.

    “Should we go to the swamp?”

    “No, that would break the taboo. Though we could ignore it depending on the situation, it is very possible that there is some sort of a defense mechanism there. If Flat and Svin were here, perhaps we could do something about it, but it’s hard to say with my abilities.”

    Indeed, if that was not the case, my mentor would probably have investigated it long ago. “What about Zepia, then?”

    “Oh, I went to look for him as soon as I came to my senses.”

    “—.”

    I was suddenly speechless.

    “Sir.”

    My voice carried a tinge of anger. I walked up to him and raised my head to stare at him.

    “G-Gray.”

    I raised my fist as I stood in front of my mentor, who looked slightly scared. I gave the collarbone of his expensive suit a light punch.

    “Please don’t do anything dangerous when I’m not around.”

    “I-I’m sorry. It’s, just that…” my mentor said indistinctly. His gaze wandered for a bit before he closed his eyes and bowed his head in defeat. “I’m sorry. I just don’t have the courage to meet a version of you who I don’t know.”

    “……”

    How dare he. (TN: Pretty sure the original was “狡い, zurui”, but that translates to “cunning”, which just doesn’t make sense in English.)

    How dare he do this. He didn’t know at all how worried I was just then. I could not help but give him a few more punches, though even I could not believe that I could do something like that. How many times must this person end up making me cry before he learns to stop? I bent down.

    “…I …forgive you.”

    It took a lot of effort to get those words out of my mouth.

    “Thank you.”

    “…So, what happened with Zepia?”

    “He wasn’t there. I haven’t seen him since the third day, so I don’t know if he originally left or if it was just because of the special conditions of the second cycle. I heard that a merchant was arriving today, so most of the villagers go to the square to kill time,” my mentor said, as he checked over his notes once again.

    That was right.

    Father Fernando and Sister Illumia had left for this reason. Perhaps my mother had left for the square as well after praying to the Black Madonna.

    For that reason, I had had the opportunity to talk to my mentor in the past. “Alright, it’s settled,” my mentor concluded.

    “Let’s go investigate that church again, Gray.”

    -End of Part 2 of Chapter 4 of Book 6-
    —————————————————————————————————————————————————— ——

  11. #31
    The Long-Forgotten Sight Rafflesiac's Avatar
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    I raised my fist as I stood in front of my mentor, who looked slightly scared. I gave the collarbone of his expensive suit a light punch.

    “Please don’t do anything dangerous when I’m not around.”

    “I-I’m sorry. It’s, just that…” my mentor said indistinctly. His gaze wandered for a bit before he closed his eyes and bowed his head in defeat. “I’m sorry. I just don’t have the courage to meet a version of you who I don’t know.”

    “……”

    How dare he.

    How dare he do this. He didn’t know at all how worried I was just then. I could not help but give him a few more punches, though even I could not believe that I could do something like that. How many times must this person end up making me cry before he learns to stop? I bent down.
    wow cute
    Quote Originally Posted by Arashi_Leonhart View Post
    canon finish apo vol 3

  12. #32
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    I'm assuming all that's left is Part 3 and the Epilogue.

  13. #33
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    Majora's Mask vibes with the schedules and repeating days.

  14. #34
    Chapter 4, Part 3
    Though it was early summer, it was still chilly inside the empty church.

    The church was surprisingly large, considering the size of the village. Though I had never been properly trained in controlling magical energy, this place seemed incredibly peaceful to me. I had been calmed by this place countless times. It was as if it was separated from the rest of the world.

    “Just as I remember, no one is here,” my mentor mumbled after looking around.

    “People say that this place is so small there isn’t even a person who knows how to steal things. So nobody really locks their doors.”

    “…I see. That makes it more convenient for us.”

    He walked past the pews, looked up at the stained glass, and examined the altar once more. He even carefully checked the sacramental bread that had been laid out on a plate. The next thing to investigate was naturally the Black Madonna statue, in the furthest end of the church.

    “I’t’s been bothering me for a while, but I never got the chance to ask. This church hasn’t always been managed by Father Fernando, has it?”

    “…Yes, Father Fernando only got dispatched here a couple of years ago. Sister Illumia arrived even later, around last year.”

    “Hm. So the two of them have different attitudes toward you than the villagers?”

    “…Yes.”

    That was why Father Fernando did not show much interest in my face.

    He didn’t like it or dislike it, he just acted like nothing was special about it. Though he lived alongside the villagers day and night, he was still an outsider to them, and would be dispatched somewhere else perhaps a decade later to fulfill his duty. This village would probably fade to the back of his mind as a strange, isolated village in the mountains.

    “That means that it wasn’t the church that created the statue but that the church was built around the previously-existing Black Madonna. It is fairly common to see a compromise between the local religion and the central system of beliefs but… No, since the Atlas Institute is involved, shouldn’t there be more to this than the Holy Church?”

    My mentor put a hand to his chin and narrowed his eyes.

    I felt somewhat calmer watching him sink into deep thought as he usually did when faced with something bothersome. Perhaps it was a weird side effect of being alone a while ago. But I felt as if I didn’t get my act together, my mentor would probably decide to go back to sleep (???).

    “Either way, let’s investigate before the people return.”

    As he said it, he glanced toward the Black Madonna.

    First, he backed away a couple of steps to look at the entire statue, then, he took out his magnifying glass to examine it in detail. After that, he took out a bit of reagent from his pocket. He probably always carried these things with him (TN: Yes, Lord I’m-not-a-detective El-Melloi II, who carries a collection of investigation equipment around the place. Also, he has like, a pack of cigars, a folding knife, some reagent, a magnifying glass, and some strange powder just hidden in his pockets 24/7. How big are this guy’s pockets?). He carefully brushed some dust off of the statue and into the reagent, watching it change color.

    “It appears that it’s under the influence of some sort of spell. However… It’s doesn’t originate from the statue itself. If I were to describe it, it would be something like a relay point.”

    As he said that, he took out a thin golden chain. The amethyst pendants on it clanked together, forming an arc.

    “This is, dowsing, right?”

    It was a very primitive form of magecraft that I had learned about in class before. Apparently, it could be used for searching and investigation, and was used even outside of magecraft to look for underground reservoirs or oil.

    “I have the same things I carried on me back then. I didn’t think that you would come, and so I ended up not being able to use it.”

    My mentor shrugged.

    That was to say, he originally planned on investigating the church as well. Then, he had come across me by accident, as I wanted to avoid the traveling merchants. I felt slightly embarrassed as I remembered how I once thought that it was fate that led us to meet there. But I would let that shameful thought be a secret forever. My mentor would most likely not notice anyway. …At most, I would just tell Reines.

    My mentor had stared at it for the space of a few breaths, checking the arc made by the amethysts.

    “This way,” my mentor said, turning around.

    It was behind the Black Madonna. My mentor squeezed himself into the crack there and then immediately dusted himself off. The stone normal-looking stone slab there did not change in any way, no matter if we pushed or knocked on it. (TN: I scanned the text a couple of times and found no earlier reference to that stone slab, so if you’re confused, you’re just as confused as I am.)

    “…There’s nothing there.”

    “Well, I suppose it’s not that easy.”

    After thinking for a while, my mentor let the pendant dangle from his fingers again.

    For some reason, the chain wrapped around his pale fingers reminded me of a pair of snakes.

    This time, it took a lot longer.

    My mentor’s eyes remained closed, and the pendant stayed still.

    “What is it?”

    “It’s a matter of imagination,” he answered.

    “Seeking magecraft(?) is connected to the conscious and unconscious perception of information by the practitioner. Earlier, I had imagined the church as a two-dimensional space, but now…”

    As he said that, one part of the amethyst pendant started swaying unnaturally.

    “It should be here.”

    My mentor walked out of the church and opened the side door.

    After we walked down the ancient staircase and turned into the corridor, we arrived a the storage room that contained wine and other miscellaneous items. Since it was necessary to have bread and wine for the Holy Communion, it was only normal to have them stored here.

    “Is there anything special here?”

    “…So it’s over there.”

    The crystal shook in my mentor’s hand. He compared it to what it had been acting like for a moment before pushing the shelf of wine aside and lifting the carpet underneath it. The shelf was surprisingly light, probably because there were plenty of empty bottles.

    My mentor stared at the unassuming floor.

    “This basement is directly underneath that church.”

    Then, he turned his gaze upward to look at the ceiling.

    “That statue could originally be placed elsewhere.”

    “Can this sort of thing be moved around randomly?”

    “Though it depends on what exact type of spell is being used, in most situations, it probably isn’t a problem to move the sacred icon around slightly. In some places, there even is magecraft directly used to transport gods.”

    As he said that, my mentor felt the floor again. Then, he pressed down with some force. This time, the floor tilted over to the side.

    “…A staircase?”

    An empty cavern and a patchy staircase appeared at the base of the slanted floor.
    *
    The area around to the traveling merchants were very busy.

    Though the visitors consisted of only two small trucks and the six people inside them, it was a once-in-a-month celebration for the villagers. The entrance to the village was like a marketplace, and the population of nearly a hundred had all gathered here.

    The children were laughing, the adults were picking out goods, while the elderly looked upon them from a distance. The traveling merchants seemed to also be putting on a small performance for their entertainment. Though, this band of merchants also served a function, unbeknownst to most of the villagers. One of the merchants cut through the crowd of people enjoying the sound of a cheap violin and had a short conversation with some of the villagers.

    “Father Fernando.”

    “Oh, Mr. Bersac is here as well.”

    “My radio is broken, so I came to buy some parts to repair it. The general store is also out of stock.”

    “Haha, that must be hard work. I heard that there’ll even be dances today.”

    “I’m not a fan of that sort of event, so I plan on heading home to rest.”

    “Well, that is unfortunate.”

    “Oh, right, has that kid, Gray, come here?”

    “No, I only met her briefly at the entrance to the church.”

    “Is that so. I’ll see you later, then.”
    After he said that coldly, he left after exchanging pleasantries with a couple more people.

    “Hello, Sister Illumia.”

    “Ah, hello.”

    “I just saw you over there talking with the merchants, did you order something?”

    “No, a friend from the city sent me a letter.”

    “Oh, how enviable it is to have someone to write to. An old man like me only knows about the goings-on in the village.”

    “This is a good village, though? It should be me who finds it enviable.”

    “Hahaha. It’s really nice to hear that from you, Sister Illumia. After all, this is the only the place I know, so I’d better believe that this is the best place in the world until the day I die.”

    “Well, that’s definitely true.”

    After saying goodbye to the old man who ran the general store, Sister Illumia took out the letter she just received and frowned.

    “…Ah, has it come,” she muttered to herself.

    There was another.

    The oldest person in the village, whom the villagers called “Granny” out of respect.

    According to the people in the village, she was over a hundred years old. She looked abnormally shriveled as she stood there, wrapped up in traditional garments. She was almost like a puppet, with layers of wrinkles on her face that almost concealed her facial features.

    At that moment, she opened her mouth, with lips that resembled a dead leaf. “There is a sound coming from underground.”

    “From underground, you say?”

    “Yes. A very distant sound. I remember hearing it once when I was a child. Though it was just that once, I will never forget what it sounded like.”

    The old woman’s voice was so low it almost hung down to the ground. It truly sounded like the voice from centuries ago.

    “Gray has been completed so well.”

    “…Yes she has, hasn’t she?”

    The woman smiled blissfully.

    It was like the smile of a bride who had waited decades to finally see her lover return. Her face, which was not outstanding in beauty, suddenly looked like a blooming flower.

    “The day for that child to shine has finally come.”

    It was Gray’s mother.
    -End of Part 3 of Chapter 4 of Book 6-
    —————————————————————————————————————————————————— ——

  15. #35
    Oh, and here are some images that I forgot to put in from earlier, like the cover, and the character thing.
    Images


    Cover


    Also a cover?


    The character...thing
    From left to right and bottom to top: Gray, the grave keeper of Blackmore Graveyard and the blessed child; Gray's mother; Illumia, a nun of the village church; Bersac, the grave keeper of Blackmore Graveyard; Fernando, the priest of the village church; Reines El-Melloi Archisorte, the next head of the El-Melloi family and the sister of Lord El-Melloi II; and Lord El-Melloi II, the Lord of the Department of Modern Magecraft of the Clock Tower.


    Something from the prologue?
    The text is just stuff from the end of the prologue, from "'Very well,' Reines said" to "'Then, let me, Reines El-Melloi Archisorte... met.'"



  16. #36
    屍鬼 Ghoul
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    This is hype, thanks so much for doing this!

  17. #37
    Chapter 4, Part 4


    As we descended the creaking staircase, I constantly checked my surroundings.

    The dirt walls had not been properly fortified, and might even have been naturally formed. The slight moistness of the dirt added to the claustrophobic feeling that the narrow corridor gave me.

    “Where is this…”

    “Do you not know about this place.”

    I nodded slightly in response to my mentor’s question.

    “…It’s the first time I’ve been here.”

    “I see,” my mentor muttered.

    “Just in case, let’s first make sure we have proper ventilation.”

    My mentor moved his fingers and chanted an incantation.

    I felt a gentle breeze blow across my skin. It seemed that my mentor had used magecraft to control the air in the tunnel, letting fresh air in from the entrance.

    I felt a bit of a strange feeling, and could not help but smile wryly.

    “What’s wrong?”

    “Nothing, it’s just that it’s rare to see you act like a mage.”

    “Second-rate mages have their second-rate ways. Even in an age like this, where most things are easier and cheaper with science.”

    My mentor raised his hand again somewhat indignantly. This time, it lit up with a faint light.

    It was just about bright enough for us to see the path in front of us.

    “There are footprints.”

    The light in my mentor’s hand illuminated what was beneath our feet.

    The ground was distinctly marked with countless footsteps. I groaned slightly(?) thinking about how many pilgrims must have walked this path throughout the many centuries this passageway had seen.

    “Is this the true church. Did they build that one to hide this place?”

    My heart was beating loudly.

    It was the true nature of my village, something that I did not know of.

    Should I really continue going forward, a voice whispered into my mind. Did I really want to know the reason why a corpse that looked identical to me would appear?

    How terrifying.

    I thought I was fully prepared for it, but my brain had not accepted it.

    Did this sort of a tunnel really exist in my world? Was this a product of Zepia’s meddling? Random ideas kept popping up in my head.

    Still, I was unable to stop in my tracks. I clutched my chest and moved forward one step at a time.

    “In the past, the underground was considered part of the underworld,” my mentor said as he walked.

    How long was this tunnel? Along the way, it twisted and turned, sometimes rose, and sometimes fell. I had completely lost my sense of direction. Though it felt as if we were tens of meters under the ground, I would totally have accepted it if it turned out we were actually quite close to the surface.

    “Regardless of what they call the underworld, it is a place connected to reality, to which one can travel to if they so wish to.”

    I remembered that Reines had talked about something similar before.

    Yes, we were now walking towards death. Suddenly, I froze.

    “Are there spirits?”

    “N-No.”

    I shook my head and looked to the tunnel in front of us. “There’s… Nothing at all.” I could feel the presence of spirits anywhere I went.

    On this earth, hardly any places had not seen death. Places that had not seen some sort of ancient thing breathe its dying sighs were even rarer. The reason why I sometimes felt terrified was the concentration. The sort of spirits that were dead yet still carried a desire to live and ravage that was so unmistakably [alive] was what made me uncontrollably scared.

    This contradiction between the living and the dead was frightening.

    But here, it was strange.

    It wasn’t just the lack of spirits, I couldn’t even sense a ripple of magical energy.

    Since there were so many footprints here, at least some sort of residual will should have lingered here. Even if they were not powerful enough to perceive as language, they should be noticeable. And yet, there was nothing but an empty void in front of us.

    Suddenly, the narrow tunnel widened.

    I could feel my mentor freeze as the astonishingly large space opened up without warning.

    It took all my restraint to stop myself from crying out.

    Many skeletons were scattered in that large space.

    It was not just one or two sets. There were dozens upon dozens of skeletons there, and they filled up my entire line of sight. The floor was so cluttered with them there was no place to put my feet.

    “Blackmore Graveyard,” my mentor mumbled.

    He swallowed, slowly turned to look around the room, and knelt down. As he looked at the bones which covered the room like a blanket of flowers, he spoke in a stunned voice.

    “What if… the true Blackmore Graveyard did not exist above ground… but was here?”

    “…?”

    “No, is this even the graveyard at all? The ground under the Clock Tower is also especially… Because that place is fundamentally different from the surface world, and contains crystallized remnants of Mystery… If that’s the case, is this place…”

    Along with my mentor’s muttered words, something in the room changed.

    The bones shook.

    They floated into the air as if they were being tugged on by invisible strings and pieced together.

    Just like that, skeletal soldiers stood up one by one. And in their hands, they carried gleaming weapons made of bone. Some of them held swords, others held spears, or even bows. From their equipment, it seemed that they were ancient soldiers.

    And they were devouring magical energy.

    A bone soldier turned to us. Just as its sword came slashing down, my body moved of its own accord.

    “—Sir, get out of the way!”

    Though a sliver of uneasiness flashed through my mind, Add still changed shape when I released him from the hook at my right shoulder.

    It spun like a Rubik’s cube and turned into a scythe in an instant, blocking the blade.

    The force of attack was so strong I felt my arm go numb, and I widened my eyes in surprise.

    Not only that, the rest of the bone soldiers charged toward us.

    They weren’t… spirits?

    I was surprised by how they appeared to be.

    Compared to how strong they were, they severely lacked attachments and wrath. Spirits which had attachments to the world could be called manifestations of emotion. It would probably be right to say that a grave keeper’s job was to quell these emotions.

    It was basically impossible for this kind of spirit to exist. If that was the case, what were the things I was facing against?

    “Is the Spirit Origin (alternatively, Saint Graph or Spiritual Foundation, 霊基, reiki)… not enough?” My mentor mumbled.

    “…What?”

    “I’m afraid they’re different from regular spirits. It seems to be that they can only barely function due to magical energy, taken from the surroundings, that has been inserted into records and uses skeletons as a medium (this part sounds off and also makes no logical sense). …Ahh, it’s almost like a failed Servant.”

    Hearing my mentor’s words, I swallowed.

    If that was the case, I could understand their unusual abilities. The speed of a wile beast and the refined movements full of the intent to kill. I see, it was more accurate to describe them as failed Servants than a mage’s familiars.

    At basically the same time, I noticed it.

    There was someone else there. A human figure whose appearance was clearly different was watching us from behind the droves of skeletal soldiers.

    “Huh...?”

    I stared back at that figure.

    That young woman.

    Leading the crows of shadow Servants with the stature of a queen.

    I could not see her face because of the metal bask the wore over her face. However, her figure was all too familiar. It was the tragic outcome that I had seen reflected countless times, which I wished would shatter like the mirror I saw it in. It was the tragic end of a girl from the countryside, who was made to imitate a great hero of the past.



    [Why, here?]

    There was no sound.

    And yet, I sensed that she had asked me this.

    [The time is not ripe, the once and future king has not yet awoken. You are above the earth, and I am below. All we must do is wait.]

    I did not answer her question.

    There wasn’t a way I could answer it.

    What if…

    A question swirled into existence in my mind.

    What if the one who died back then was…

    My doubt rose like a dark cloud, befogging my thoughts. The “Me” that had died there. However, before I could voice my question—

    [Leave.]

    Just like that, the masked young woman turned around and started to walk deeper into the tunnel.

    “Wait!”

    I wanted to stand up.

    To stop me from doing so, the bone soldiers gathered. One or two of them were fine, but the scythe was disadvantageous against tens of them.

    —Then I’ll use the hammer!

    “Add, remove first stage restraints!” I raised the scythe over my head, poured magical energy into it, and recited the words to transform my weapon. However, instead of changing shape, I received a weak whisper in response.

    “Sorry… Gray…”

    “Add?”

    The joy that I felt from hearing the box’s voice was suddenly stamped out by uneasiness.

    Because its voice was the sound of something that forced itself to do something impossible.

    “Add?!”

    No response came.

    The weapon remained as a scythe.

    Add, who had been silent previously, had completely stopped responding.

    “Gray!”

    “—!”

    Hearing my mentor’s shout, I reflexively dodged the blade of a bone soldier, but my consciousness was still frozen. I could not understand what had happened at all. Actually, part of me knew what happened, but the rest of me refused to accept it.

    My knees went weak.

    The “Strengthening” of my body had not kept up. Even my ability to absorb the energy around me had fallen to about half of its usual level. Moreover, this place was already lacking in mana, so I wasn’t much different from regular mages in this state—!

    “….Gray!”

    My mentor’s right hand shook.

    He used the magical energy that he had barely held in place to shoot out weak magical bullets.

    His attacks could only deter the soldiers briefly at best. Though they were failures, they were still failed Servants.

    My mentor’s magecraft alone could not do much damage to them. Though this was the time for me to protect him, I didn't even have the strength to stand up.

    “Add! Add! Add…” It didn’t work.

    There was no response.

    The truth of that burned at my heart like the fires of hell. It cut into me, sharper than a knife blade and deeper than an arrow. The thought that this object which had accompanied me for so long had disappeared crushed my spirit more than any physical attack could.

    “Add! Please, Add!” I hugged the scythe tightly and cried. In that instant, I forgot about everything that was happening and cried like a child. “Please, wake up!”

    Suddenly, the giant scythe shone with a blinding light.
    -End of Part 4 of Chapter 4 of Book 6-
    —————————————————————————————————————————————————— ——

  18. #38
    Chapter 4, Part 5
    A letter fluttered through the church.

    It was the letter that had been delivered by the merchant just then. Sister Illumia had sauntered in, brandishing the letter.

    “…You understand this, don’t you?” She asked, raising her chin.

    “I understand.”

    Father Fernando nodded.

    He had been informed of this possibility all the way back when he had just arrived. However, he never thought that it would actually happen while he was here. He had thought that this ancient custom wouldn’t bear any fruit until it rotted to the core.

    Ah, how wrong he had been.

    He knew pretty well, deep down. He had just been avoiding it until now.

    The girl had already begun her transformation when he was assigned here. The chances that that had happened were not ignorable. Perhaps you could even say that it was the highest possibility in centuries.

    “If the time is ripe, I shall be the one to kill the blessed child of this land.”

    Father Fernando walked forward along with the nun as he made a cross at his chest.

    “Just like how our forefathers had guided that powerful Dead Apostle named Blackmore into the lands of rest.”

    After a while, the two of them stopped.

    In the underground cellar, a wine bottle had fallen to the floor, and the liquid seeping out of it was dripping into the gaping hole between the floorboards.

    “Ahhh, sure enough…”

    The priest covered his face with his hands.

    “It’s exactly like what that guy named Heartless said.”
    *
    After he returned to his hut, Bersac looked up unexpectedly.

    He heard a raven’s cry.

    “…Nevermore.”

    The birds of ill omen that were said to transport should.

    He had spent his life with these birds. Perhaps he would even hear these calls as he died, he once thought, just like all this ancestors, who had lived out their entire lives meaninglessly after handing the role of the grave keeper to their successors.

    That would be enough, he once thought.

    Perhaps it had fallen behind the times, but Bersac used to be fond of this village which seemed to have been frozen in time. He had thought so until that girl began her transformation. Bersac had noticed that the call of the ravens were different.

    “…Gray.”

    He pronounced the name through parched lips and with a dry voice. Though he wanted to restrain it, it still leaked out. “I really don’t want to meet you tonight.”

    Bersac Blackmore slowly picked up the giant axe that leaned on the wall of the hut.
    -End of Part 5 of Chapter 4 of Book 6-
    —————————————————————————————————————————————————— ——

  19. #39
    Lie Like Vortigern Reign's Avatar
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    Is this the end of the volume? Thanks for your hard work translating it.

  20. #40
    Thank you very much. This year has been great.

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