Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 352: Peace (3)

“The universe of that time was filthy,” Kalosia said softly. “Order did not perform the work of order. Everything became a toy for the Oldest Ones. Gods fell without meaning. Demons fell. Those who lived on the Mortal Realm fell.”

For that reason, gods and demonic will, two presences that could not accept each other and existed as perfect opposites, joined hands for the first and the last time.

At the end of a war without measure, gods and demons won enough to shape the universe as it was now. Ketal knew that much already. Even so, a question had always stood in him, and Kalosia spoke as if they had sensed it forming.

“You know this as well as I do. We are weaker than they are. The difference between us and the Oldest Ones is the difference between touch and what can never be touched.”

The Demon King had been the sum of all demonic power. If every god had attacked at once, the outcome would still have been in doubt. Even so, when set against one of the Primarchs, that same Demon King would have stood only slightly stronger. And there were three Primarchs.

“It’s not just the Primarchs,” Kalosia continued. “In those days, there were more beings like the White Serpent and the Ugly Rat and the White Bear. There were more of them than gods.”

There had been well over a hundred such beings, entities the Tower Master would need to fight with all his power just to survive a bout.

“Nor were they the only threat. There were monsters as well, things like the Abomination inside you.”

Even when gods and demonic wills had united their power, no path to victory had existed on that vast and fated board. And yet, they had triumphed—because of a single, undeniable reason.

“The Oldest Ones did not care about the likes of us. They poured their greatest power into killing each other.”

Before the gods and the demonic will fully moved, the Oldest Ones had eaten half their own strength fighting their own war.

“To call it a war between us and them is not quite right,” Kalosia said. “Even when we struck them, they did not truly look our way. Only a few of the monsters liked killing us better than killing their rivals, and such cases were rare.”

“Tsk.” The Abomination in Ketal clicked its tongue and did not argue. That silence conceded the point.

“Inside that indifference, we managed a victory,” Kalosia said. “We could not kill them. Correctly speaking, we had neither the time nor the power.”

The Oldest Ones had not looked upon gods or demonic will. They had noticed them as one noticed a fly and waved to be rid of it. Even that light motion had dealt the sort of damage that would take thousands of years to mend.

“In the end, we had no choice but to pen them upon the Mortal Realm.”

That was how the Demon Realms had come to be as it is now. Ketal knew the outline of that history. The details still drew his curiosity, so he asked the question he cared about.

“You are the ones who laid the seal on the Demon Realms.”

“Gods and demonic will together laid it,” Kalosia answered.

“I have a question about how. What form did the seal take?”

The Primarchs had failed to break it even when the three acted as one. That sounded wrong if one considered the Primarchs’ force. Yet Kalosia did not answer his question with an explanation. Instead, they asked one of their own.

“I would rather ask you. What did you do?” A gaze fell upon Ketal that could have belonged to a girl or a boy, an elder or a youth, yet never settled into one shape. “How did you break the seal and force your way out?”

“I faced a being that blocked my path,” Ketal said. “I killed it.”

“You killed the gatekeeper and came out. I did not know the gatekeeper could be killed.”

Kalosia let out a short, incredulous breath, then gathered their composure when they caught the steady look in Ketal’s eyes.

“The seal was something gods and demonic will made together. We poured a law into it, a law that said nothing could leave.”

“That does not sound like something that could stop a Primarch.”

“What you say is not wrong,” Kalosia said. “The order of this universe does not carry much meaning for them. So we mixed everything.”

They recited the names and powers that had been woven into the seal: thirteen gods, seven Demon Lords, and one of the Oldest Ones—a being whose strength rivaled that of the Abomination itself.

At that last note, the Abomination inside Ketal stirred sharply. “You used one of us as the core of a seal?”

“You know this well,” Kalosia said. “Among you, there are those that have no self. Some are made only of a concept.”

“The Invisible Haze...,” the Abomination said.

“You were lost in your civil war and did not notice. That allowed us to secure it.”

“So that is the reason,” Ketal said. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Because the seal included an Oldest One, even the Primarchs could not simply wrench it open. Kalosia went on.

“What we mixed together took the role of a gatekeeper. It stood at the rim of the White Snowfield and kept the boundary.”

“So the thing I felled was the gatekeeper.”

“Most likely, yes. No one could kill it because it was a mix of everything,” Kalosia said. “That is why the sudden collapse of the seal puzzled everyone. They wanted to know how. But it makes sense that you managed to kill it.”

Kalosia spoke more quietly, as if the truth of Ketal had become a simple fact that required no ornament.

“You are not a god. You are not a demon. You are not one of the Oldest Ones,” Kalosia continued.

Because Ketal belonged to none of the three, he had been able to break a seal built of all three.

Ketal stroked his chin. “I think I understand. So that is what I broke. I offer my apology.”

“It would have come undone in time. It does not matter,” Kalosia said. “More important is that what you have done helps more than the seal ever did. Yet I am curious about one point.”

They regarded him with a look free of judgement.

“The gatekeeper was strong,” Kalosia said.

It had been built from several gods and several Demon Lords, with an Abomination-level Oldest One mixed in. If one accounted for its strange nature, it had stood just shy of a Primarch.

“You said you defeated it with your own power. Yet you could not match the Demon King. You only defeated the Demon King after we poured our power into you.”

In the White Snowfield, in the time before Ketal had learned to handle Myst, he had slain the gatekeeper. Kalosia found that difficult to hold.

“How did you kill it?”

Ketal answered in the lightest tone. “I have a secret card of my own.”

“You did not use it even when you fought the Demon King?”

“I do not want to draw on that strength.”

That power denied what fantasy was. He would not call upon it against a being of fantasy. If he ever touched that power again, it would be to face something born of the Demon Realm.

Kalosia murmured as if that settled cleanly in their mind. “It is not strange that you would possess such a thing. From the beginning, I wondered why you had only as much strength as you showed.”

The subject had reached its end. Kalosia finally raised the matter that had brought Ketal to the heavens in the first place.

“There is only one reason I called you. Tell me what you desire,” Kalosia said. “I swore an oath to you.”

They had wagered on the very concept of deception and lies. When all was finished, Kalosia had promised that whatever Ketal desired would be granted. That promise now stood ready to be fulfilled. Ketal paused in thought, his gaze distant as he considered what he would ask.

“What I desire,” Ketal repeated. To be honest, he had nothing to ask for. The world as it stood felt perfect to him. He answered without a performance. “I have nothing for now. Can I hold it in reserve?”

“It would ease me if you decided quickly,” Kalosia said. “The weight of the oath does not vanish while it stands.”

“Even so, there is truly nothing I want.”

“Then do as you please. One does not chase a benefactor. When you have a request, speak to my Saintess in the church. I will agree with a glad heart.”

“Thank you.” Ketal smiled.

“Do you have other questions? I will answer anything.”

“Questions, you say...,” Ketal said, and let silence breathe once. Then he spoke. “If what you say is true, the seal on the Demon Realms is broken.”

The Ugly Rat, the Whitie, and Nano had all come out already. That meant the things within could step outside.

“And you cannot move upon the Mortal Realm for a while because of your war with Hell,” Ketal said. “That seems like a dangerous position.”

“It does not trouble me,” Kalosia said. “A broken seal does not mean the door stands open.”

At this moment, the strongest thing that could slip through would be something like the Ugly Rat. Mortals could still deal with something of that size.

“A Primarch could force a way and set a hand upon the Mortal Realm,” Kalosia admitted. “Even so, they fight among themselves forever.”

The battle between the three Primarchs, which had started with the first dawn of the cosmos, still had not finished. There was nothing to fear, so the gods believed. At least, that was what they told themselves.

Kalosia spoke in an easy tone. “We will prepare a response in time. For now, we still have space to breathe. When the need arises, I will ask you again.”

“Understood,” Ketal said, smiling.

They spoke on. Ketal asked everything he had ever wanted to know about gods, and Kalosia answered every last piece. They traded thousands of questions and answers over the span of a week. For Ketal, it was a joy that felt endless.

However, it had to end anyway.

“Hm,” Ketal said when his body wavered. His outline thinned like a picture on a screen taken by static.

“The Sun God’s Saintess has reached her limit,” Kalosia said gently. “She endured longer than I expected.”

“Then I have to go back.”

Ketal clicked his tongue softly, a hint of regret in the gesture. He could have remained—at his current height, nothing bound him from dwelling in the heavens for as long as he wished. Yet there was no reason to linger. He chose to return. From somewhere unseen, Kalosia’s smile could be heard in the voice that followed.

“Come again. We will always welcome you,” they said.

“Next time I want to see gods other than you,” Ketal said.

“I will try to persuade them,” Kalosia said. “I do not know if those cowards will answer.”

“Please do,” Ketal said.

By now, his body had blurred into something that barely counted as a shape. Kalosia watched him and spoke in a tone as soft as a hand over a child’s hair.

“The beings inside the Demon Realms are not needed by this universe. They must all be excluded and erased. However, you are the exception.”

They had accepted the existence called Ketal.

“For a long time, for the time that comes, we will rely on you,” Kalosia said.

“And I on you,” Ketal replied, smiling.

With that, he descended back to the Mortal Realm. The moment he touched the ground, his breath steadied into the air. Beside him came a ragged exhale—Helia stood there, pale and trembling, her chest rising and falling as though she had just climbed a mountain.

“You have returned,” she managed. “How was it?”

“It was a joy,” Ketal said, smiling. “You have my true thanks.”

***

The next day, the Tower Master came to find him.

“You are working hard on the repairs,” the lich said. “It is a welcome sight.”

“What brings you here?” Ketal asked him.

“I am going to the Empire.”

“The Empire?”

“Yes. The cursed Empire has still not moved.”

Demons had set foot upon the Mortal Realm. Hell itself had come. The Demon King had descended, and the Demon King had fallen. The world had begun to heal. Through every one of those moments, the Empire had remained silent, unmoving, as if untouched by the storm that had shaken creation.

“The world has begun to settle. I will go and ask the Emperor what they are thinking.”

“Oh,” Ketal said, and his eyes lit. The Empire was the strongest polity of the Mortal Realm and wrapped itself in a veil. “May I come with you?”

The Tower Master’s teeth seemed to smile though their skull stayed the same.

“Not now. We do not know what the Empire intends. I will speak with the Emperor and ask for leave. I planned to introduce you anyway.”

Before this, the Tower Master had hidden Ketal’s existence. No one could have predicted how the Empire would react when they beheld the man who had fought and won in Hell. Now there was no reason to hide. Ketal had become someone the Empire could not touch. They could not match him in power or in fame.

“I should return in about a week,” the Tower Master said. “We will speak then.”

“Understood. I will be waiting.”

Ketal watched the Tower Master depart with an easy smile, expecting their return so they could journey to the Empire together. One week passed, then another, and still the Tower Master did not come back.