After passing through the hole beyond the fog, Belgrieve’s vision was unobstructed once more, but it was still as dark as it had been before. In this endless void, it was hard to even tell what was in front of or behind him. Belgrieve turned around; the yarn dangling behind him seemed to simply disappear somewhere down the line.
“I suppose I just have to go for it.”
He could only continue forward. That was what he had intended to do from the start—he couldn’t lose his nerve now. Curiously, his phantom pain had died down. He wondered if it had perhaps been caused by the fog, but he could do little more than speculate.
Belgrieve walked quickly but cautiously. He had nothing to guide him, but he knew that Angeline lay just beyond. He didn’t know how far he had gone. Even his sense of time had become hazy. He hurried onward regardless, and eventually, he could make out a humanoid shape a little farther down the path.
“Ange!” Belgrieve called out as he ran to join her. But as he got closer, it soon became apparent it wasn’t Angeline at all. He reached for his sword, his heart racing, as he took in the form of a man in a hooded white robe—it was Schwartz. He was still missing the left arm that Graham had taken from him, but he didn’t seem to be bleeding.
Schwartz stopped and looked at him. “So you’re here, Red Ogre.”
Belgrieve narrowed his eyes, poised to draw his sword at any moment.
Schwartz chuckled. “Don’t be afraid. I have no reason to fight you.”
That’s rich, coming from someone who made such a mess, Belgrieve thought sullenly. But it was true enough that he couldn’t imagine any reason to fight Schwartz here and now—never mind that Belgrieve couldn’t possibly defeat such a foe.
“You’re searching for your daughter, aren’t you?” asked Schwartz.
Belgrieve looked at him. “Do you know where she is?”
“She ran past me.”
Schwartz tilted his head in the same direction they had both been heading. Belgrieve squinted and gazed into the distance, but it was futile. It was still nothing more than a dark, endless void.
“Want to come with me? We’re both headed in the same direction, in any case.”
“What are you scheming?”
“We simply share a destination, that’s all. So are you coming or not?”
Schwartz had laid it out simply, urging him to make a choice quickly.
Belgrieve gave it a moment’s thought; sure enough, they were going the same way, and reluctant as he was about it, he would need to share the road with this man. Thus, he followed a short distance behind the robed man.
Schwartz began to speak without turning his gaze from the darkness ahead. “I owe a lot to you. If you weren’t around, I wouldn’t have been able to reach this place.”
“Where are we...?”
“Somewhere beyond time and space. The same place that Solomon disappeared to, long ago.”
“Solomon...” Belgrieve peered around, but there was still nothing to see. Judging from his tone, it was clear that Schwartz was telling the truth about wanting to come here, yet Belgrieve couldn’t imagine what specifically motivated him. Belgrieve stared dubiously at the man’s back. “What were you even trying to accomplish in the end?”
“Two things. First, to come here, and second, to see the other side,” Schwartz nonchalantly explained. “I’d grown sick and tired of that world. Part of it was that I’d just lived a little too long. I’d come to know the limits of magic. And more than anything, I grew curious about where the strongest magician in history had gone. It wasn’t the world beyond death—that’s something I figured out after all my research into necromancy—which is how I arrived at time-space magic as the answer. My interest turned to the alternate dimension that Solomon had disappeared to.”
With the curtains pulled back on his motives, Belgrieve found them to be surprisingly simple. It was just as Graham had surmised—Schwartz was driven by the boundless curiosity and inquisitive nature of a magician.
“Just for something like that...” Belgrieve muttered.
Schwartz burst out laughing. “Just something like that? Certainly, it might seem trivial to you people. But from my point of view, the happiness all of you pursue is just as inconsequential. Joy and delight, in the end, are nothing more than passing emotions. They leave absolutely nothing behind when they’re gone.”
“Curiosity’s the same.”
“It is not. Curiosity gives birth to something new. Magic in its entirety is the result of the curiosity of magicians. Development and innovation stems from curiosity. Happiness is satisfaction, and satisfaction is stagnation. It cannot produce anything. Though it could also be said that curiosity has a nature like a binding spell.”
“And you were bound by it, then?” Belgrieve asked, surprised to hear that note of cynicism from Schwartz, who only acknowledged his question with a burst of laughter.
“But that too had its limits. The massive flow of events required to bore the path to this space would only move with a strong surge of emotion. The greater the height, the greater the impact of the fall. If I wanted to produce energy, joy and love were indispensable. This was impossible for me no matter what I did. But then you came and did it for me.”
“In the first place, what is the flow of events? Why did you use Ange?”
“Let me explain things one at a time. For starters, any and all events are linked. Just as the wind drives ocean waves, a breath can stir the heart. One action gives way to another phenomenon, all of them becoming a great flow that constructs the world.”
Belgrieve nodded. I can accept that. Anything and everything has a cause.
“But human beings have wills—and not even just humans. Those who research time-space magic, especially with a focus on the flow of events, call this the soul. The soul makes different demands from the primal, animalistic survival instinct that all living things possess. Demands for authority, fame, pleasure... I would classify love as one of these too.”
“And those come together to make a ‘flow of events’?”
“That’s right. A new flow, a subconscious flow. Unlike the phenomenon of the wind driving the waves, the soul acts with intention to make or manipulate the flow. Those who have souls that can affect great things will come to be known as heroes. Such people take their surroundings along with them and cause massive shifts in events. A hero changes the course of a war, becomes the founder of a nation, or hunts down a great evil. These individuals become the center of a major flow of events.”
“Do they all end up here, then?”
“Not necessarily. But I’ve heard of several cases where it did happen. Those who are lauded as heroes in war become a nuisance to get rid of in peacetime. Some say the lament of such souls bored a hole through space. And such a flow can draw in those who are not human. I assume that is why Lady Winter appeared a moment ago.” Schwartz paused for a moment.
Belgrieve narrowed his eyes and said, “And so?”
“The power to bore through time and space is usually born from despair. It was just so for Solomon, before—the realization that one has no place in the world causes an explosion of emotions that can create swirls in the current. Those spiraling motions can penetrate space-time. So at first, I thought to simply sow chaos through the world. That was why I had been raising Ba’al in Orphen, though that girl thwarted me then.”
“You were trying to go for the despair of a hero born on the battlefield? But...” Why Ange? Belgrieve furrowed his brow. If despair for the world was the key, then he felt like Percival would have been a far more viable candidate. Belgrieve said as much, a quizzical look on his face.
“The Exalted Blade, huh?” said Schwartz. “Certainly, he has the caliber of a hero. However, when it comes to great phenomena, the flow leading up to them is just as important. Not only the Exalted Blade but all of your comrades have the makings of heroes, yet they never managed to reach this point. That is because there was no flow leading them here. Perhaps their despair came a little too early, too abruptly. Over the course of her travels, that girl managed to take all their flows along with her. That is precisely why she managed to create such a massive current.”
“It’s almost like you were trying to orchestrate the climax to a play.”
“Yes, precisely—that is a perfect way to put it. When I saw that girl up close at the archduke’s estate, I realized that the flow of events seemed to be centered around her. She had power, and she had the ability to break down the trials before her and press on. That girl could repel all the pressure surrounding her. Even the ancient forest was driven back by her.”