Chapter 22

The Prophet’s Story “We’ve resolved things with Shella, but we still don’t know where Zack is, do we?” I said after we returned to Solon’s mansion via the teleportation circle. Solon and I were in his room, facing each other. “There’s probably only one person in this country who knows where he is,” Solon replied, sipping on a cup of tea that his apprentice had made for him. “Who is it? I’ve interviewed nearly everyone who interacted with the Hero, but I don’t think anyone got close to him besides you and the other party members.” Solon paused, then said, “The Prophet. The Prophet probably knows where Zack was headed.” I was let down by his answer. The Prophet was a mysterious person of unknown origin. They were an anomalous being, which made them even harder to find than Zack in a sense. “And where do you suggest looking for this Prophet?” I asked. “I have a pretty good idea about their identity,” Solon told me as he took another sip. “‘Identity’? What do you mean, ‘identity’?” “I only found this out after we defeated the Demon Lord, but…” Solon put his cup down on the table. “The Prophet is probably the Demon Lord of the human side,” he began in a haughty tone. “‘The Demon Lord of the human side’? What are you talking about?” I was completely mystified by what he was saying. “The Demon Lord rules over the monsters as their king. He’s something like a retainer to the dark god. Well, when I say ‘dark god,’ I’m just talking about the human perspective. As far as the demons are concerned, our god is the dark god.” “Our god is the dark god? Solon, you do know who you’re talking to, right?” The royalty of our kingdom had deep religious ties. Even the Great Sage would be branded a heretic if he so much as misspoke. Not that I had any intention of doing that, of course. “Don’t worry. I’m only saying that who’s ‘good’ and who’s ‘evil’ changes depending on your allegiance. We might have gone on a long journey to defeat the Demon Lord, but the monsters have their own beliefs and ethics. The battle between humans and monsters boils down to a proxy war between our respective gods. That lesson was drummed into us many times throughout our journey.” “……” I was at a loss for words. It was hard to readily agree with what Solon was saying, but I couldn’t deny his experiences when I hadn’t stepped a single foot outside the kingdom, while he’d fought for years beyond the kingdom’s borders. “That’s when I, in my great wisdom, realized something,” he added. “If the monsters have a Demon Lord, then the humans must have something like a Demon Lord, too.” “And you’re saying that’s the Prophet?” “Yep. The Hero would seem like the most likely suspect since he fights the Demon Lord directly, but we’re well aware he doesn’t fit the bill. So that raises questions about the Prophet, given that they select the Heroes.” “I sort of get what you’re trying to say, but the Demon Lord was so fearsome, while the Hero…Zack…didn’t possess any such power. The Prophet doesn’t do anything besides foretell the Hero’s coming. I feel it’s kind of unbalanced against our favor.” The monsters were strong, while humans were weak. God ought to give humans more power if the idea was to level the playing field. “Our god simply has a different kind of authority,” Solon argued. “Say what you will about us weak humans, but we’re the ones in charge of most of the world. The Demon Lord temporarily upsets the status quo, but it doesn’t last.” Now that he mentioned it, he was right. The Demon Lord had never gained control over the entire world. Not even once, despite being so terribly powerful. “The Prophets themselves don’t have much power, but that’s also what makes their role so important,” Solon added. “That said, even I haven’t figured out what exactly they do.” “So you’re saying this Prophet is close to God? Then that would be…Maria? People call her the Holy Maiden, and she can sense God very keenly.” Despite being called the Holy Maiden, there was something a bit dark about Maria. If someone told me that she was the Prophet, I could believe it. “No, she isn’t the Prophet. She’s just good at using healing magic. She might be more powerful than other priests, but that doesn’t make her close to God. Personally, I’d say she feels more affinity with the dark god.” That was a harsh appraisal for someone Solon had apparently known since childhood. “Besides,” he went on, “the Prophet has been active for a thousand years. It’s not a role that a person can do alone over that span of time. One more thing—it’s not acknowledged much, but this country has two deities: the major god that Maria and most of the world worships, and the native god. The populace is under the impression that both gods are one and the same, but they’re actually separate. It’s as if the major god is deliberately conflated with the native god in order to conceal the latter’s existence. And remember how this country has a family that has always served the native god?” Solon’s eyes were glued on me after he said that. “What? Are you talking about…me? The royal family is the Prophet?” I never imagined that the royal family would come into question here. “That is what I’m saying, yes. The royal family has its roots in the priestesses who serve the native god, and the way they’ve produced only girls is unnatural. What’s more, the role of priestess always goes to each queen down the line, so there’s always someone praying in the temple. Which would mean that the Prophet of this generation is most likely our current queen.” “That can’t be! My mother is a lovely person. She couldn’t be a shady character like the Prophet!” I summoned my memories of my mother. The way I saw her as a child, she was a beautiful, kind, and wonderful lady. “And how many years has it been since you last saw her?” Solon asked, ignoring my argument. “It’s been…ten years.” I struggled to respond. “She took on the role of priestess when my grandmother passed away. You’re heavily restricted from seeing other people when you become the priestess. You know that, right?’ “I do. But I don’t know what the priestess does at the temple. They say she offers prayers to God, but what exactly does that entail? What are they doing when they pray?” I was stumped for an answer. Although I knew that I would be the next priestess after my mother, I hadn’t heard about what I would be doing specifically. “I figured you wouldn’t know.” Solon could apparently tell my ignorance from my expression. “The temple is on sacred ground. Outsiders are strictly prohibited from entering, and even the royal family can’t get in easily. I’m guessing there’s a tight lid on information. The fact that no one’s told you, the future priestess, about what you’ll be doing beforehand is telling. What are they going to such lengths to hide? Why does the Prophet only appear in this country, and why do the Heroes only originate from here? When you think about it from that angle, the royal family—no, the queen’s family—sounds like the Prophet.” “No…way…” I couldn’t refute him easily. I possessed nothing that could invalidate his argument. And the fact that he was the Great Sage meant I couldn’t write off what he was saying as a mad conspiracy theory. “Let me give it to you straight. I hinted that Zack was the Hero to you because you’re the princess. I thought you would be able to enter the temple and expose Zack’s whereabouts.” He’d been trying to use me from the start, it seemed. But given that I’d been using him in my search for Zack, it went both ways. “…Why do you think the Prophet would know where Zack is?” I asked Solon. “There has to be some kind of connection between the Prophet and the Hero. That something explains how the Prophet is able to foretell the Hero’s emergence. In practice, every Hero throughout history has married the princess and become king. This case is the only exception.” I didn’t know what I was supposed to offer in rebuttal. “What are you telling me to do?” “Meet with the queen at the temple. I’m not asking for anything more.” The temple was in the underground level of the palace. Apparently, it was more correct to say that the palace was built atop the temple—as if to protect it or, perhaps, to conceal its existence. As I descended the steps, my torchlight flickered across the white marble floor and walls. It all seemed so cold and inhospitable, as if the entire area were rejecting human entry. Just when I feared that I was traversing a bottomless hole, I finally caught sight of the temple doors. Standing there in front of the entrance, clad in pure-white garb, were two attendants. With their veiled faces, they looked like indistinct ghosts. Frankly, it was unsettling. They were women, since only women were permitted entry into the temple, though they wore swords at their belts. Although the attendants were not part of the royal family, they belonged to another clan that had served the temple for generations. They swore absolute loyalty to the priestess’s clan, undergoing stringent training until their skills outclassed the knights’. “Please inform Mother…the priestess…that Alexia is here,” I said to the temple attendants. They hadn’t so much as quivered when I arrived, but on my command, they parted to my left and right. The door began to open slowly, as if on its own accord. “Her Holiness is expecting you. Please come inside.” I had no idea which one of them said that. They might have spoken in perfect unison. Contrary to my expectations, the women did not try to stop me. They must have known beforehand that I would come. There was another long hallway, followed by another door. On the opposite side was an enormous room, built across what was once a cavern. Light enveloped me; it was hard to imagine that this place was underground. A large statue of a goddess filled my vision directly in front of me. It was so exquisitely made that it looked as if it were alive. Meanwhile, a woman in white stood before the statue’s altar. She was utterly still, almost as if she were the statue instead. “Mother…” My voice croaked. Even though she looked the same as she did in my memories, her expression was devoid of all the love and vitality that had once abounded there. In its place, I could sense a vast, deep emptiness. “Alexia,” she said, “I understand your reason for coming here, and that you were led here by Solon.” Her eyes were cold as she looked at me, and I sensed no warmth in her words. “You know Solon?” How had she found out from this secluded place that I’d been in contact with Solon? “I know him well. That boy can be a bit too clever for his own good. It made him difficult to handle at times.” “‘That boy’? Mother, were you close with Solon?” Solon was famous for being a child prodigy, but I was fairly sure that he wasn’t deeply involved with the royal family. My mother answered my question with a question: “What did Solon say to you that made you come here?” “…He said that you’re the Prophet.” “That is true.” She confirmed it. She did it so easily, without so much as a flicker in her expression. “Huh?” “I am the Prophet, and our clan exists to serve this land’s god. We are closest to the divine. That includes you as well.” My head spun; I felt like I’d been knocked off my feet. Although I’d braced myself for this, it was still a shock to hear. “Why?” I finally mustered in response. “It is the duty of our clan, our inescapable fate. Perhaps you could call it a god’s curse.” My mother’s eyes slid to the goddess icon behind her. “Did Solon mention how the Prophet guides the Hero?” “He said he didn’t know the method…” “I suppose he wouldn’t know. He didn’t know it back then, either… Very well. I shall impart the secret to you, my successor.” A callous smile came over my mother’s face. It was as if she was sneering even at herself. “I am incapable of death,” she told me. “What?” I did not immediately grasp what she was saying. “Upon my demise, the world will end, and time will reset to a point at which it is possible to avert my cause of death.” “What does that mean…?” “You asked if I was close with Solon. Solon was once one of the Heroes I guided. He was the greatest mind of his day and the biggest threat to the Demon Lord other than Zack. He figured out the Prophet’s identity back then, just like he has now. But he has no recollection of this. No—it didn’t happen at all in this timeline.” As she spoke, my mother closed her eyes in recollection. Was it just me, or was there something melancholy about her expression? “It wasn’t only Solon. I guided Leon and Maria as Heroes, but they were defeated on the journey to battle the Demon Lord. Although they were certainly gifted individuals, they had a tendency to rely too much on themselves instead of other people. That was where they came up short as Heroes. There were many other Hero candidates, but none of them were successful. “I…the Prophet…cannot discern the identity of the Hero. Time simply repeats for me eternally until I find someone who can defeat the Demon Lord.” I could not speak. I comprehended her words, and yet my mind rejected their meaning. Because it would mean that my mother must have repeated her life…how many times over? “It takes more than ten years to guide a Hero to the conclusion of their journey. I have repeated this sequence over a hundred times.” “Then it must have been over a thousand years…” That was longer than I could even fathom. How were human beings meant to spend that kind of time? “Yes. It was Zack who I found at the end of my thousand-year journey. But it was Ares who I tried to lead at first. When I heard that there was a gifted boy in a distant village, I sought him out with a faint hope. I thought his talents were promising, but sadly, he perished before he could reach the capital. I considered ending my own life to restart the loop, but then I found myself taking an interest in Zack.” “…Ending your own life?” I couldn’t just let that go. “When you have lived over a hundred times, your death carries little weight. My first death was at the hands of monsters. The palace fell to the Demon Lord’s army—everyone inside was killed. I would choose death without hesitation to avoid repeating that tragedy.” I wondered how many times she must have taken her life over the course of a thousand years. That was just too… “Do you think it pitiable, Alexia? But it is finished now. That boy, who had no talent or expectations on his shoulders, brought my long journey to an end. His resolve to defeat the Demon Lord was stronger than that of any person I’d seen, and he possessed the unshakable willpower to endure even the harshest of trials. His character is worthy of the Hero’s name.” The Hero was the person the Prophet found after many lifetimes of searching. They were not the product of fate or miracles; it was simply the name given to someone who eventually defeated the Demon Lord. The realization left me dazed for a moment, but then a thought nagged at me. It was about a potential other timeline. “Mother… What if, um, Ares had lived? Wouldn’t Zack…no, Zack and Ares have been able to combine forces to defeat the Demon Lord? I met with Ares’s mother, Shella, in Daris Village. She was deeply saddened by Ares’s death. She raised Zack, too, you know. I feel so awful for her…” From what I’d heard, Ares had been a talented individual. Wasn’t there an option for Ares to live and defeat the Demon Lord alongside Zack? “Zack’s strength came from his tragic resolve, spurred by his feelings toward Ares and his mother,” my mother said. “Without it, he would not have been able to vanquish the Demon Lord. While Zack did accomplish this great deed, it was through threading a fine needle, the accumulation of very slim possibilities. There is no guarantee that it can be repeated. And, Alexia…would you really tell your mother to die in order to test that possibility?” Indeed, that was a logical conclusion. Perhaps she was right in saying that my very suggestion was cruel to her. “I have witnessed an uncountable number of tragedies and calamities. From that perspective, Shella’s grief is but a common misfortune.” “But, Mother, weren’t you the one who chose Ares? Neither Ares nor Zack wanted to be the Hero. Shella didn’t want it, either.” “I will concede to that. Although it was not my hand that struck the blow, it was my choice that led to that course of events. Indeed.” Then my mother said: “I killed the Hero.” Even as she acknowledged her part in it all, she showed no hint of emotion. She wasn’t supposed to be like this, not the mother I knew. “However, Alexia, I never asked to be the Prophet, either. Do you know what I thought when I was repeating time over and over?” “Did you wish that you were never born into the royal family?” It was something I’d felt on occasion. “It was Why did it have to be this generation? Why did the Demon Lord’s invasion have to occur in my lifetime? I resented this fact many times over. I cursed it. If only it happened in my mother’s time or my daughter’s time. Why did I have to be the only one to shoulder this agony? The Demon Lord won’t be born again in another hundred years. You will live your entire life without ever experiencing what I did. Let me be frank: I burn with jealousy when I think of you. You were born into the priestess’s bloodline, and you will almost never have to use its power.” “Ah…” Even as I thought that she was being unreasonable, I couldn’t claim that I didn’t understand her feelings. Those thousand years must have been miserable if they’d transformed my wonderful, kind mother into this cold visage. Her pain was harsh enough to tempt a person into pushing it all onto someone else.