Chapter 67

“What will I do when I leave?”

Quilbion asked while sitting beside Winte.

“Open a cafe. You’ve secured one regular customer.”

“That’s not bad either. I can handle hospitality skillfully too.”

He stretched out his legs and leaned back against the backrest.

“Better than a crowded place, a village with a moderate number of people would be good. No, I’ve never lived in a city, so I should go to a city this time. I’ll work there and save money, then use that money to open a shop. Living like that, I’ll meet one or two women with compatible personalities, get married, and have about four kids to raise.”

“And then?”

“I’ll grow old and die. I hope to die without pain, but life has never gone as planned, so I’m worried.”

Winte’s pupils moved up and down. At the gaze sweeping over his body, Quilbion twitched his eyebrows.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What if you’re in that state outside too?”

“You said I’d lose my power.”

“I’m pretty sure I said probably.”

“……That’s true.”

Inside the surface realm, it didn’t matter whether he lived a hundred or a thousand years. Because he didn’t interact with others.

Beside him was a dragon who’d lived through immeasurable years, and a hawk that remained fine after living over 130 years.

It’s a world where the abnormal becomes normal, so there are no worries.

But living 130 years in the outside world?

“Most of the religions you people believe in and worship advocate eternal life. Immortality is an amazing sales pitch.”

“Stop saying you people. I don’t believe in them.”

Winte continued regardless.

“If I were leading a religious order, I’d definitely capture you. Gather believers, stab you in the stomach, throw you in fire. The miracle of immortality has descended upon us, and everyone would cheer.”

It was a development that made him sigh.

He would’ve laughed if it were absurd nonsense, but it was so realistic that he couldn’t even sneer.

“Your emperors, or kings, have all coveted immortality at least once. Most treated it as amusement, but some searched for the secret of eternal life with momentum to overturn their nations.”

Winte looked at Quilbion with a slight smile.

He’d seen that disgusting smile twice just today.

“So what? Be careful when I go out?”

“Yes, I’m warning you to be careful. You’re my precious experimental subject and the second-best coffee brewer.”

It was Winte, beginning with coffee and ending with coffee. He let out a hollow laugh and asked back,

“130 years have passed and I’m still second. Who’s first?”

“That being.”

“Ah. Coffee bestowed by god. Come to think of it, coffee was also made by god, right? Kind of funny.”

From creation to the method of enjoyment.

Did he touch every single detail like that? Should he call it meticulous, or charming?

A world where every little thing was carefully attended to.

Of course it would be precious.

“About erosion.”

“You said you weren’t concerned?”

“I’m asking since it came up. Erosion means the goblins from the surface realm burst outside and commit massacres.”

He glanced up at the sky as he continued.

“Will the Designer just watch then too?”

“Probably.”

“You said this place was born from error, not intention. All the creatures made by their own hands might disappear, yet they won’t lift a finger? I thought they were overflowing with humanity, but I guess not.”

“Even if it’s an error, they’ve acquired intelligence and furthermore obtained an answer on how to live. Even if the Designer were in perfect condition, they would’ve left them alone.”

“From what you’re saying, our Creator seems to be sick somewhere……”

“The expression sick isn’t entirely wrong. Because they might disappear soon. Not complete annihilation, but they’ll lose almost all their power.”

“Is that okay? If the one who made the world disappears, who will manage this world?”

Winte raised his cup and said in a low voice,

“That’s why they’re praying for you lot to gain complete independence. They’re waiting for someone who can accomplish that. Yes, my Creator would be the one anticipating the birth of a superhuman more than anyone.”

“……I don’t know about the world or superhumans, I just hope I can die comfortably.”

“I don’t know if that will go as you wish.”

Quilbion looked at Winte. Precisely, he stared at Al Terua’s face.

“The memories from when you were Al Terua, they all remain, right?”

“Not perfectly. I got swept up midway and my mental entity was annihilated. That thing’s power has now reached a level I can’t handle with my mental entity.”

That thing.

He must be referring to that woman.

“The constant fate talk was because you truly knew about fate, knew everything that would happen?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t foresee the future. I can only sense it.”

“Why did you approach Twella? Did she really see fate, the future?”

Winte turned his head. Quilbion could read the emotion in those golden eyes. It was interest.

“About 100 years, then.”

“What?”

“The time it took for you to ask about Twella.”

“……”

Quilbion turned around. Twella was dancing on the rooftop wearing black monastic robes.

As if she had no interest in the conversation between the two, she smiled brightly and moved her feet gracefully.

“Whether it’s patience, indifference, or if you truly forgot. It took longer than I expected.”

“She only recently started not talking.”

“Not talking?”

He looked at Twella again. Winte’s gaze also shifted.

“That. She doesn’t talk to me these days. Before, whenever she appeared, she’d spew all kinds of bullshit and scratch at my insides, but these days she only dances.”

“I see.”

“I don’t know what she’s trying to do. If she’s a mental entity, she was born from inside me, right? I’m certain I created that, but I have no idea what she’s thinking.”

Twella stood on the railing on tiptoes and spun around. Under the darkness gradually approaching as the sun set, she danced passionately.

“You can see her, right?”

“I can see her well.”

“What do you think she’s thinking?”

“Who knows?”

Twella came down from the railing and approached. She silently extended her hand.

He stared blankly at the white hand.

“You want to dance?”

Twella nodded with a smile.

“Sure, what can’t I do?”

He’d killed her hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times.

Killed and killed until no meaning remained.

Even if the living Twella, the Twella who followed that woman, appeared before his eyes, Quilbion would spit once and turn away.

“The very act of expending emotion on you is wasteful.”

He gripped Twella’s hand and pulled lightly. Feeling her weight pressing close, he crossed his feet.

He’d danced ballroom dance to the point of exhaustion. The forms and rhythms of dance varied tremendously across the cracks, but since they were dances performed by humans with the same limbs, he could get the feel after moving a few times.

Twella took the lead, perhaps wanting to lead. He let her and followed. Extend left foot, sweep right foot across the floor, then turn.

“What are you thinking?”

He asked, but only silence filled the air.

“You’re definitely living well. That woman seemed to care for you.”

Twella, who’d stamped her feet, slipped from his embrace and ran around the rooftop with her arms spread wide.

Tired of couple dancing, she performed a spirited solo.

Quilbion watched Twella’s dance absently, then sat beside Winte.

“She’ll disappear someday doing that.”

“She will. And it won’t be long.”

A long cry came from the sky.

The hawk that landed on the ground while folding its massive wings waddled over beside Quilbion.

It pressed its heavy head against his thigh and laid down its body.

“It’s been a while. But where exactly do you spend your time?”

He said while stroking the hawk’s head. The hawk’s large eyes moved slightly left and right, then closed.

It seemed tired.

“This place really is strange. I became like this from eating goblins, but this one has been living long with no reason. It’s as big as a cow too.”

“There’s a reason for everything. That it’s desperately holding on, and that it ultimately remains by your side.”

The hawk’s head grew heavier. It seemed intent on sleeping while it was here.

“Should I sing a lullaby?”

He laughed softly and soothed the hawk.

Without this one, he would have died long ago.

Life wasn’t entirely happy, but he still wanted to survive, and he lived thanks to this one.

If one day the hawk pointed at his heart and thrust its beak forward, Quilbion would willingly expose his ribs and offer his heart.

“Ah, come to think of it, this one’s owner must be dead too.”

“Still alive.”

“If they’re alive after 130 years, that means this one’s owner isn’t human either. A dragon perhaps?”

“The entity you lot define as dragon is only one. I’m the beginning and end of my unique species.”

Quilbion twitched his mouth.

“Should I comfort you? Or should I laugh?”

“Do as you please.”

“……You must have been very lonely.”

“I had one friend who understood me, so I wasn’t lonely.”

“You have a friend with that personality?”

“I quite like my personality.”

Quilbion looked at Winte with slightly narrowed eyes.

Though he’d become a familiar presence, Winte was a life form he couldn’t dare understand.

How could he understand a monster who’d dissected thousands of humans out of simple curiosity?

“Well, let’s say so.”

Quilbion looked down at the hawk. It slept like a doll without even tossing.

It was breathing, but unlike usual, its breath was faint and delicate.

Was it sick somewhere?

He touched it lightly, but it didn’t even stir. Usually when he tapped below its beak, it would glare irritably in warning.

“Look at this one. Something seems wrong.”

Winte didn’t even glance over.

He only lightly shook the empty cup.

“If it’s coffee, I’ll make it later, so right now……”

“What’s touched by the Designer’s intentions can’t be revived by my hands. If it were injured, I could heal it, but that one isn’t injured.”

Ah.

He understood in an instant what Winte was saying. Quilbion carefully stroked the hawk.

“You lived long. Yes, it’s been way past time to go.”

He bowed his head and brought his forehead to the hawk’s head.

They couldn’t exchange words, but they always shared more than words.

Because he’d spent such a long, long life between this place and the cracks, there were countless beings he could call close friends.

But if asked to pick just one from those countless friends, Quilbion would unhesitatingly say one, not a person.

“Yes. It’s good to go peacefully like this. Go as if sleeping. Leave all the pain and worries here.”

Did his farewell words reach it?

Or did they scatter emptily?

“I should have given you a name if I’d known. Right?”

The hawk was quiet.

The warmth its large body had emitted also cooled in an instant.

He felt as if a sharp cry circled in the sky.

At times like this, he missed auditory hallucinations.

If it were this friend’s cry, he’d welcome it anytime.

“That a covenant could be maintained for such a long period. The world is still full of mysterious things.”

Winte said.