7 Post-mortem Reverence

Seeing the elder ascetic leave the library, Laemno took out his piece of papyrus and quickly scribbled down everything he had just learned.

Valsgarde has been completely silent since ten years ago. I wonder what happened... Hmm, it's not really that important. At least, it helps me narrow down my choices to the Nation of Ever-Conquest. I'll have to study the various roads linking Hierapetra and Sethia to establish my escape route. Even if I manage to survive past the Sacrificial Ceremony, I'll be an eleven-year-old child running around in an unknown world. I need to prepare thoroughly for my journey.

Still... The Sethian Empire is a very attractive destination. Their last Sacrificial Ceremony took place nine centuries ago, so they shouldn't be that attached to these traditions. Even if I doubt that such an idyllic meritocracy can exist, the fact that they don't discriminate so long as one fits their idea of 'Strong' is quite convenient. However, what's my 'Strength' supposed to be in this case?

Laemno sighed as he heard faint chuckles echoing from a solarium further inside the library. His caretakers were lounging on reclining chairs, enjoying fruity snacks while chatting without a care in the world. Not noticing his envious gaze, the brown-haired Aspasia stood up and walked toward the corridors.

It sure is easy to be carefree when you're not going to be sacrificed in a few days. That reminds me... if every Celestial Offering is killed, how do they manage to keep the Nameless Saint's bloodline alive? His story did say that we were his "spiritual descendants." Does it mean we're not directly related but somehow connected to him by some other kind of power? This is strange.

He twirled his stylus between slender fingers, eyeing the triangular purple stigmata that covered his hands. Before long, a baffling sense of familiarity made him frown, and his eyes immediately widened in shock.

I know these markings... How could I not have noticed this? They're the same as the ones carved on my silver bracelet back on Earth! What...? What does this mean? Alright, this is beyond strange—it's creepy.

At that moment, a scream reverberated inside the library, startling Laemno. He instantly jumped to his feet, the rhythm of his throbbing heart accelerating.

That voice... It was Aspasia!

"Charis, what's the matter?!" He glanced at his remaining caretaker.

She cautiously approached the corridors, peeking from the corner before her face turned pale.

"What happened?!"

Laemno didn't wait for her answer as he ran to the halls, only to freeze after seeing the reason for Aspasia's scream.

Father Agathon's limp body was dangling from the ceiling, cord coiled around his snapped neck. His eyes bulged, nearly rolling out of their sockets and accentuating the expression of pure agony on his face. The foul smell of feces bathed the sumptuous corridor, oozing from the hanged elder's corpse.

Caught mentally unprepared, Laemno's stomach churned before he puked his entire breakfast on the exquisite tapestry. The pressure from his gut kept pushing every bit of food out as his legs buckled, falling to the ground.

Normally, he wouldn't have been this affected by such a scene as he had seen his share of tragic deaths back on Earth. However, it seemed like remnants of the real Laemno's psyche were still influencing him, hence his reaction.

"Aspasia! Bring the guards! I'll look after the Honored One." Charis blurted out orders before she helped Laemno stand up, hiding the scene from him with her back. "Please, over here, Honored One."

She gently guided him to a reclining chair in the solarium, where she poured him a glass of cold water. Despite her young age, she tried to control her shaking hands and displayed no signs of panic. After all, she was the adult here, and the Honored One was only an eleven-year-old child, no matter how much they revered him.

The ice-cold liquid flowed down Laemno's throat, jolting him awake from his daze. Only then did he have the mental clarity to analyze the situation.

Father Agathon is dead. Did he kill himself? It looks like it, but that horrified expression on his face...

Laemno shivered merely by thinking about it.

Why would he do that? He seemed just fine a few moments before. No, wait. By the end, he was acting strangely, like he had lost all his energy. Did he remember something about Sethia that drove him to despair? Damn it! What's with this place and unexpected suicides?!

"Why are they taking so long? There should be temple guards nearby!" The restless Charis kept pacing around before momentarily pausing, her gaze cast towards the hall.

"I'll go see what's up with them. Please, Honored One, stay here and don't leave the library, alright?"

Although puzzled by her decision, Laemno chose to nod silently. Charis immediately darted out of the solarium and turned around a corner without looking back, afraid to see Father Agathon's hanging corpse again.

What did I miss? Surely, someone on the brink of suicide would display some kind of sign. Aside from the very end, Father Agathon's behavior more or less matched my fragmented memories. Did the mention of the Sethian Empire stir something inside of him? The Sethian Empire...

As Laemno's thoughts trailed, a flash of realization made him leap from his seat.

Sethia! This nation managed to advance and grow without the help of the divine. In this world's common beliefs, the Hallowed Sovereigns descended from the Heavens as a punishment to keep human depravity at bay. It means that a man of religion like Father Agathon would never condone their path, even under the guise of scholarly objectivity.

But then... was I talking to the real Father Agathon... or to an impostor?

Laemno's hands started trembling, but he kept his fear at bay as he explored the possibilities.

My memory isn't reliable, so I can't accurately judge if something was off about him today or not. Neither Charis nor Aspasia voiced any suspicion, but his behavior was certainly odd towards the end. Is it the assassin trying to pass me a message? He wants me to know that he could kill me anytime he wishes to?

Laemno glanced at the library's entrance, chills running down his spine.

Is he deriving pleasure from this? He took the time to usurp Father Agathon's identity and then staged his suicide like some sort of creepy spectacle. But... this is too inconsistent. The murder attempt with the triangular mirror was subtle—much more careful.

Here, he took the risk to interact with me and leave obvious traces, unlike the previous instance.

Laemno sat down on the reclining chair, thinking about the anomalies. Soon, his expression froze.

Could it be... that there are two assassins? That would explain the abrupt change in methods.

Why do I have to deal with this? Couldn't I transmigrate inside a nice little farm with a loving family? He clicked his tongue, dread and frustration washing over him.

After calming down, he got up again and left the solarium through the inner door, heading back to where he had been studying.

If anything, this proves that my ignorance about magecraft is highly dangerous. I have no idea about the scope of possibilities, so I can't prepare in advance. I'll need to find a solution as soon as possible.

He rolled his remaining notes and hid them inside his tunic, ensuring no suspicious objects were left.

At that moment, the sound of slow footsteps reached his ears.

Are Aspasia and Charis back? I don't hear many people, though. Laemno looked at the entrance, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

Father Agathon stood under the polished archway, his head dangling sideways due to his snapped neck. His bloodshot eyes focused on Laemno, quietly observing him while both remained frozen inside the library.

"W...What-... Who are you?" stuttered Laemno after a few seconds of excruciating silence.

"..." Father Agathon didn't answer.

Instead, he smiled.

No, it was something far more sinister—his lips kept widening, and the sound of his dislocating jaw filled the room until he revealed an inhuman grin.

Father Agathon's right hand slid inside his mouth and, with a single pull, tore out his own tongue. Blood trickled down his beard and stained his white tunic, but there wasn't a single grunt of pain coming from him.

He flapped the piece of flesh in the air like one would unfurl a piece of papyrus. Laemno expected the blood to splatter everywhere, but at some point during the blurry movement, the ripped tongue transformed into a decrepit-looking notebook.

Laemno blinked once, and the notebook had already disappeared from Father Agathon's hand.

He felt an unfamiliar object weighing on his hand. With a cautious, downward glance, he realized the notebook was already tucked between his fingers.

"W-What?!" Laemno's arms tensed as he instinctively tried to throw it away, but a strange sense of terror stifled his will.

Similar to last night when he had tried to smash the triangular mirror, a feeling—or more like a warning, told him that something terrifying would happen if he did so.

Mustering his waning courage, Laemno loudly gulped and cast his gaze onto Father Agathon.

"What is this? What do you want? If you want to kill me, just do it instead of playing these sick games!"

Of course, Laemno had no intention of dying here. Amidst his shouts, he was already eyeing the potential escape routes within the library. Furthermore, he wished to attract the attention of nearby clergymen with his yelling.

Visibly prompted by those words, Father Agathon let out another disturbing noise. Cracking sounds echoed under the archway as he disjointed his spine, bending his back lower than any human could possibly manage. It took Laemno a few moments to realize what he was doing.

Father Agathon was bowing.

For some reason, he was bowing to Laemno.

Laemno blinked again, this time more confused than terrified. Yet, that split-second of blindness was enough for Father Agathon to vanish. He wasn't under the archway anymore, and no trace of him remained.

Laemno immediately jolted from his daze and ran for the hallway. He turned left and saw the same scene as before—Father Agathon's limp body hung by the neck under a dangling chandelier. There was no sign that the cord had been unbound or that he had just been strolling near the library's entrance seconds ago.

"This is creepy..." Laemno muttered under his breath, carefully holding onto the decrepit notebook. If not for its presence, he would have believed this encounter to be merely a realistic daydream.

Soon enough, multiple footsteps resounded in the hallway. Laemno hurriedly hid the notebook underneath his tunic before turning towards the upcoming crowd.

Charis and Aspia came running, followed by a trail of temple guards. Those familiar with Father Agathon audibly gasped while the others quickly moved to untie him from the ceiling.

Led out of the scene by his caretakers, Laemno struggled to calm his pounding heart. Shock, confusion, and fear all melted together in his mind, and he could not muster any coherent thought. A nagging feeling told him that he was embroiled in something far more dangerous than the Sacrificial Ceremony, a hidden conflict utterly invisible to him.

A few steps behind, a silvery bleeding eye kept flickering in and out of existence, silently gazing at the hallway.