Chapter Ten: Exclusive Equipment
We decided how best to proceed and worked out a plan for patrols of the sanctuary. That night I was back in the sanctuary with Raphtalia and the others. We were taking a look around at the place but also expecting an infiltration attempt to come at any time. Mamoru had told us of a sightseeing spot—hot springs—that were located nearby. After taking a patrol around, we were going to go and take a bath. After agreeing to make contact by shouting or using magic if anything happened, we all split up to look around. That left me alone with Raphtalia.
“I’m surprised to be here again, even though we are in a different time period,” Raphtalia said.
“Me too,” I replied. I recalled when we had been caught up in the machinations of the Church of the Three Heroes and Fitoria led us here. In the future there was nothing left of the sanctuary but the barest of ruins. In this time, there was a lot more of it remaining. It was mossy and crumbling but still intact. We were standing in a slightly open area, talking, as I considered again that there was no escaping the weathering of time.
“Our village might end up like this one day,” I said.
“I think Q’ten Lo is the exception, not the rule, when it comes to remaining since ancient times,” Raphtalia stated.
“That could be thanks to the protection of the Water Dragon, or the chain of Heavenly Emperors, or maybe something else,” I said. Melty had told me that Siltvelt didn’t emerge from Siltran overnight. The nation created by the first heroes had eventually crumbled. There was no guarantee that our own village would make it into the future. It made me sad to think of that. Maybe the ones who assume the name of god had obtained an eternity that escaped from such degradation, but it felt like their hearts had become corrupted in exchange.
“The God Hunters.” We’d heard a lot about them but had no idea who they really were. They at least seemed to be leaving things around that helped us out.
Then there was 0 territory. I wondered what that was. Something was warning me not to use it too much—like it was something dangerous. Seemed like I’d go to a place I wouldn’t be able to come back from. It had allowed me to save Shadow and his Raph specimen, so that was good . . . but I still needed to be careful with it. It had already reduced my attack by 1, something I couldn’t especially afford. If continuing to use it continued to lower my attack, I could fall to 0.
“It’s important to wish it lasts forever, I guess. But probably a mistake to actually desire eternity,” I said. I thought about Fitoria in the future. She wasn’t immortal, but she didn’t age. The Demon Dragon had told Ethnobalt that he would eventually understand the foolishness of humans. Monsters and humans had a very different mental makeup, but maybe that’s the kind of thing monsters turned into if they lived too long. They were either like Fitoria, unable to hate humans but still kept their distance from them, or the Demon Dragon, who hated humanity and plotted to wipe them out. These two different reactions might be rooted in the same emotion: true eternal life and having the ones who assume the name of god grant that wish.
It reminded me of the famous magical lamp from Arabian Nights. There were other stories with similar devices—things that granted wishes. Thinking about them now, I remembered a few characters who appeared in such stories and chose eternal life. But even if they did, they often ended up regretting that choice; but if such a thing were actually possible . . . maybe the one who chose it would end up seeking entertainment by toying with other worlds. It might be tough to live forever. I’d even heard that death could be a release for such people. Water would stagnate if it didn’t flow . . . just like souls.
They weren’t immortal, but the revived—those under the thumb of the ones who assume the name of god—might be in a similar situation. I wondered if the revived themselves had ever considered the nature of their revival. Some of them probably thought of it as a second life but kept the memories of their first one. If they were going to use those memories and try to live better lives, so be it. But all the revived we had met were not making any such attempts at that. They seized authority and power, living however they pleased, causing hassle for other people and the entire world, and killing anyone who got in their way. They also gathered attractive members of the opposite sex and treated them like personal belongings. Maybe being reborn with your memories intact led to such corruption of the soul.
When I was in Japan, I’d seen plenty of content with being “reborn” as a way to reach other worlds. At the time, I’d thought it might be quite cool . . . but having actually been summoned to another world, I’d gotten caught up in so much crap and been through hell. The idea that a different world would be a friendly place for me was long gone by now. This whole conflict had been kicked off by those who possessed eternal life, which made me think that Holn and her disdain of the concept was the right idea.
I also couldn’t accept that the ones who had caused all this were going to live forever. So many innocent lives had been lost due to the eternal ones who assume the name of god. I could only hope this fight would come to an end back in our time. We had the techniques to hunt these “gods” now, but we still didn’t have a way to resolve the situation. The only thing I could really think of as a vague idea was to get to the world of the ones doing this and stop them from ever being able to do it again. Take the fight to them and wipe them out.
I recalled how Glass came here with similar intentions, seeking to kill the holy weapon heroes that supported this world in order to defend her own. Just killing one of them had the potential to end the world. That might be a better approach than having to wipe out everyone. S’yne’s sister had warned us that the holy and vassal weapons might not always be our allies; this might be one of the reasons. Even that eternal world probably had its own holy weapons, so maybe we could use them to wipe it out. The holy weapons existed to protect the world while also having the role of potentially ending it. Of course, this only applied if the world of the ones who assume the name of god also had holy weapons. I’d not heard anything about them in the Japan I came from, at least. Of course, they might be hidden, or not talked about, just tucked away somewhere . . .
“Mr. Naofumi?” Raphtalia asked.
“Huh? Yeah, I’m here,” I said, coming back to myself. I was here talking to Raphtalia, but I’d wandered off into conjecture without any answers. I need to get my head back in the game. “Even if it isn’t for as long as Q’ten Lo, I want our village to last for as long as possible.”
“Yes, Mr. Naofumi,” Raphtalia agreed. For some reason, that made me think about what she called me.
“Hey, Raphtalia,” I said.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Aren’t we a little past the whole ‘Mr.’ thing by now?” I asked her. It had never really felt especially “fantasy” to me. The fact that other women were constantly coming onto me was probably because Raphtalia and I never seemed to be making any progress. Things actually weren’t proceeding at all, of course. I also didn’t need the heat we’d face if we went recklessly into a sexual relationship. If it was finally proven that I was unable to cause pain, I really had no idea what might happen.
But enough about that.
“I’m not sure,” Raphtalia replied.