Resurrection was, in theory, something achievable through the right operations—that was Tsunayoshi's first instinctive judgment. "Beast Creation" could reach that goal of "revival." But then what? That aftermath was what he cared about.
He wasn't some overpowered god. Before acting, he had to consider whether he could withstand the "karma" that such an act would drag behind it. If he couldn't shoulder it yet, then he couldn't casually touch a taboo beyond his means.
"Your strength defines the heights you're allowed to touch." It wasn't a shackle on power so much as a limit on what consequences one could bear. Tsunayoshi had no intention of doing what exceeded his present capacity. That would be beyond what he could endure now.
"Reincarnation… yes, there is such a notion. I remember three years ago those deathless Dark Faction fanatics all clung to it. Those lunatics charging at us with firestones did it believing they'd enter the cycle after death—meet parents, friends, lovers again in the land beyond."
Finn tended to believe that much; reincarnation very likely existed—after all, among the gods were those who presided over death. But whether those gods would actually arrange anything for their followers afterward was another matter entirely. The realm after death was not for mortals to comprehend; whether oaths were kept there came down to divine credibility.
"So that's why, three years back, those Dark Faction crazies were so mad—grabbing firestones and rushing in to self-detonate."
Just recalling the scene gave Finn a headache: living people, tossing life aside, charging forward with firestones to blow themselves up. He hadn't understood how they did something so deranged—until he learned the promises those gods had whispered.
But would the Dark Faction's gods truly honor such promises to their own children? Finn remained skeptical. And as for the truth of reincarnation itself, he was no less doubtful.
"What do you think, Tsunayoshi?"
"About reincarnation?"
"Mm. The story goes the Dark Faction gods promised it to the children under them. I still harbor doubts whether it exists as told."
"It exists. When a person dies, the soul lines up for a long, long wait, then descends again to begin a new turn of the wheel. But in the span of dying and revolving, I suspect the gods were merely playing word games. Even if souls brushed past after death, they would feel nothing of one another."
Even if a god truly did "arrange" it, who could witness that fact? Tsunayoshi didn't believe those oath-making gods would grant mortals the reunion they imagined.
"Even if a god keeps the letter of the promise, the person himself can't confirm it. Even if souls 'meet,' it won't be meeting as in the world of the living. The 'promise' a god keeps and the 'promise' an adventurer imagines are not the same. In essence, it cannot be realized."
Finn let out a breath. He finally grasped what sort of pledge those Dark Faction gods had dangled. Perhaps, to the gods, the coaxing words weren't outright lies. But whether any of it truly "happened" at that point… well, that was another thing entirely.
"Not lies—but in essence, already lies. What a god promises and what people understand are not equivalent. No one can serve as witness to a god's vow. It's just a means to beguile adventurers whose hearts have holes in them."
Those deceived were searching for something to lean on. Bereft of everything, they didn't know whether the divine promise would be fulfilled; they had only one choice left. Their brokenness pushed them into it. Three years on, Finn held only sorrow and pity for those who had run at them with firestones clutched tight.
He shook his head to cast off the heaviness, and likewise let Tsunayoshi's thread of "resurrection" go. Clearly, that wasn't a topic to pursue here.
"Tsunayoshi, and the other reason you came out today?"
"I could only bring it up after entering the Dungeon. My human puppet is complete."
Tsunayoshi shifted aside. At his flank stood a youth nearly as tall as he was. A cobalt hooded jacket shaded part of the brow; beneath the hood, upturned eyes stared out, heavy dark circles smudged underneath. The vacant gaze seemed to register nothing. In his left hand he gripped a sheathed blade. He looked every inch an ordinary adventurer.
"This is the puppet I made. It moves in my place on the surface, and it also lets the gods above confirm 'me' as a person. I didn't pour that much finesse into him—just set him to mirror my stats in sync. If needed, I can seize control and run targeted drills against specific monsters through him."
Tsunayoshi raised his right hand; the puppet raised his right hand in perfect lockstep. The synchronization in motion was flawless.
Tsunayoshi lowered his hand, but the puppet kept his raised. Then, suddenly, the puppet slid one foot forward and slashed. The blade "left the sheath"—and grotesquely extended, striking the stone wall of the tunnel.
From the black hilt, faint violet-lit fragments linked together like they were strung by some substance, stretching out into what seemed a lengthened longblade.
The puppet snapped his wrist, and those extended shards slid back in an orderly cascade, snapping into place like a puzzle until they re-formed the edge along the hilt. Look closely, and you could see the "sword" was a blade assembled from countless segments.
"Besides mirroring my movements, he can operate as a true puppet under my direct control. As for the weapon, I crafted it specially—a blade composed of a thousand controllable edge-plates. Beyond controllability, I layered in a measure of imagination for sharpness. It should reach the level of a first-grade weapon."
How extravagant. Bete looked from the puppet to the blade in its hand and couldn't hold back the mutter. No matter how perfectly the puppet synced with Tsunayoshi, that was still a Lv.1 wielding a first-grade weapon. If that wasn't extravagant, what was?
(End of Chapter)
[Check Out My P@treon For +20 Extra Chapters On All My Fanfics!!][[email protected]/euridome]
[Thank You For Your Support!]