The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
Chapter 296: The Primordial Evil (11)
—Correct.
With that voice, space twisted.
Moments later, Oscar was standing in a completely different place.
‘This is...’
It was a space dyed entirely in white—much like his own sub-space.
There was no Belpher, no Ain, no knights or priests of the expedition anywhere around him.
“It has been a very long time since I faced a human like this.”
“...!”
Oscar spun around in shock at the voice behind him.
He had been on guard ever since falling into this strange space, but he hadn’t sensed anything.
“Who are you?”
What he faced was not a person.
Floating before him was a golden light, roughly the size of a child’s head.
“Itaca. My name is Itaca. The Sword of the Earth Mother.”
“Wait—if you’re Itaca... you’re that holy sword?”
“That is correct.”
He hadn’t realized it, since it didn’t look like a sword at all.
Oscar quickly glanced around and asked,
“Leaving that aside for now—where are we? And where is everyone else?”
“This is the innermost part of my consciousness. You cannot stay long, but time outside will remain frozen while you are here. You need not worry.”
So everyone outside was still safe.
Oscar felt a brief moment of relief—but it was quickly replaced by frustration, and he unleashed it on Itaca.
“What happened, exactly?”
The holy sword had been destroyed.
Because of that, the Heavenly Sword fell, and the expedition was on the brink of annihilation.
On top of that, his real body was being crushed under Belpher’s foot and was seconds away from death.
It was only natural he felt bitter toward Itaca, who appeared only now.
“You told us that a thousand years was more than enough time for your divinity to recover!”
“There was no lie in that. In fact, it recovered too well, and that is precisely the problem.”
“What does that even mean...?”
“In short, the vessel—a sword—has become far too small to contain the current me.”
It had recovered that much?
This was far beyond unexpected.
‘Sure, it’s good that Itaca’s divine power recovered. Good... but—’
It was too late.
The strongest of the expedition were already down, and they had no chance of winning.
Sensing Oscar’s despair, Itaca spoke.
“And thus, I am in a very troublesome situation.”
“Are you seriously joking right now?”
Oscar glared, full of resentment.
“I’m about to die because of some defective sword.”
“Calm yourself. My situation is not favorable either.”
“...What do you mean by that?”
“When Mother sent me down to the mortal realm, why do you think she placed me inside a sword?”
Oscar thought for a moment, then shrugged.
“I don’t know. Does she like swords?”
“...I’m going mad.”
Itaca sighed lightly.
“Listen well. No matter how brightly divine power shines, it fades with time. That is why a vessel is needed to preserve that radiance.”
“Ah.”
So Itaca existed in sword form because only that way could he maintain existence.
“Then what happens now that the sword’s destroyed?”
“In due time, I will slowly dissipate... and eventually return to Mother’s embrace.”
“Hm.”
Honestly, Oscar’s real thought was, So what?
The El-Terra Church had gotten by just fine without a holy relic for the last 840 years.
“Your face clearly says ‘So what?’”
“Good read.”
“That is a shallow thought indeed. If I return to Mother, much will change.”
“Such as?”
“First, divine power will weaken. Simply by existing, I serve as a medium through which Mother’s power is transmitted to mortals.”
If the church weakened, monsters from various sealed forbidden zones would spill out.
The entire continent might fall into chaos.
“...Then you need a new vessel.”
“Sharp as ever. And that is why I have a request for you.”
“I’d love to help, but I’m not exactly in a position to take on favors.”
“No—this is a favor only you can fulfill.”
Itaca spoke,
“Human, take me in.”
“...”
Oscar stared, thoroughly displeased.
He genuinely had no idea how he was supposed to react to that.
“Uh... sorry, but I’m really only interested in staying human.”
“What? No—wait—what in the world are you talking about!?”
“You tell me. What are you saying?”
“I am telling you to take me as a vessel! To contain my divine essence!”
“Ah?”
Oscar’s expression shifted slightly.
“What exactly does that entail?”
Would he turn into a sword?
That sounded awful.
Seeing Oscar’s discomfort, Itaca hurriedly added,
“This is not a bad offer for you either. To contain me is to become a holy artifact yourself—or in this case, more of a saint.”
“Hm.”
Oscar folded his arms and asked,
“And what do I get out of being a saint?”
“...”
Itaca was visibly flustered.
“What do you mean, what do you get? You would contain the power of the Earth Mother herself! That alone is an honor beyond measure!”
“Hm.”
Letting someone’s presence reside in his body?
Especially someone he didn’t worship?
Not appealing.
“You would gain access to divine power. And most importantly... you would survive the crisis unfolding outside.”
“...”
That one did sound tempting.
Oscar slowly lowered his arms.
“But can someone like me—who isn’t even a devotee—really take on something so sacred?”
“It does not matter. You already possess the qualifications of a saint.”
“...Excuse me?”
Oscar let out a hollow laugh.
He was nowhere near that kind of person.
“You’re misunderstanding something. I’m not that kind of man.”
“Then tell me—what kind of man are you?”
“Well...”
Oscar shrugged.
“You heard me earlier. I’m selfish, opportunistic. A regular nobody who gets pushed around by circumstances.”
“Then what do you think makes a saint or holy person?”
Oscar thought for a moment.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
“Someone who helps others for no reason, sacrifices their life for a belief, someone guided by conviction... but I don’t grow convictions.”
“Ho. That does sound impressive. But in truth, you are greater than they.”
“...Even if you’re desperate, that’s a stretch.”
“It is not flattery.”
Itaca’s voice grew heavier.
“Conviction is a convenient armor. With it, one can endure blazing fire or freezing winds, all because they believe they are right.”
“...”
Oscar quietly listened.
“Then what about you? You had no such armor. You had no certainty in your righteousness. You were terrified—desperate to flee that suffocating space. And yet, you did not board the airship; you sent others first.”
“That was because...”
Oscar’s lips moved before he realized it.
“I’d have been useless anyway.”
“Useless? How amusing.”
Itaca chuckled.
“What an ‘egoist’ you are—one who claims another’s tomorrow is more meaningful than his own life.”
“...”
“A born hero acts righteously by instinct—like water flowing downward. But you? You sincerely believe you are ordinary, and in truth, you are. And that makes you remarkable. You suppress your cowardice and the instinct to survive, and in the end, you sacrifice yourself for others.”
He had seen countless heroes over eons.
“Those armored in conviction eventually break. But you—because you have no armor—you will bend, but never break.”
Itaca declared,
“So take me, Oscar. Become the vessel of the Earth Mother’s greatest power.”
“...”
Oscar fell silent.
People had praised him over and over, but it always felt wrong—like a cow stepping backward and accidentally stomping a mouse, then receiving praise for it.
But Itaca wasn’t praising the “hero” in him.
He was acknowledging Oscar as a human.
“...Just so we’re clear. Don’t force any ‘sacrifice’ or ‘holy duties’ on me later.”
“I have no such intentions.”
Itaca smiled softly.
“Even if I said nothing, you would do it anyway.”
“You’re already saying stuff like that...”
Oscar grumbled weakly.
“So what do I do?”
“Simply accept me.”
The golden light slowly drifted toward him.
“My vessel. Oscar.”
Fwooooooosh—
A blinding golden brilliance engulfed the space, twisting it just as before.
“Justice?”
Belpher scoffed.
The young paladin who dared attack him with divine power—his words were laughable.
“Just listening to you is painful.”
Justice?
Righteousness?
Meaningless.
This world had no such thing as good triumphing over evil.
If there was a rule that was truly real, it was survival of the fittest.
“Let’s end this.”
Belpher lightly pressed his foot down.
Crunch!
With a sickening sound, the neck of the person beneath his boot snapped.
He killed a man in an instant and didn’t even blink as he stepped toward Ain.
“Oh, dear God...”
Disgusting dogs of the church.
Even after centuries, humans still called out to God right before dying.
Belpher mocked him cruelly.
“I’ll send you to that God you love so much.”
Black waves of malice poured from Belpher’s body and surged toward Ain—
But at that moment—
‘What?’
Ain’s eyes weren’t looking at him.
They were looking past him.
‘Behind me...?’
There should have been nothing there except the corpse of the man he had just—
Ssssshhhhh—
The wave of malice scattered like a mirage.
Then a primal disgust washed over Belpher.
He spun around.
And froze.
The human he had just killed was standing upright again.
Above his head floated a radiant halo of golden light.
Oscar slowly opened his eyes.
Golden irises shone within.
And the moment Belpher met that gaze—
Tremble.
Tremble tremble tremble—
His whole body began shaking like a terrified animal.
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]

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