Chapter 397

An hour earlier.

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

Mecklenburg narrowed his eyes and crept forward, looking like every ounce of suspicion in the world had settled on his face. The only reason he was walking like that was because this was Helga Brandt’s office. I laid the unconscious Helga Brandt onto the bed and smacked Mecklenburg on the back.

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“Walk normally. He drank a lot, so he won’t be waking up anytime soon.”

“I’m not fine with this, you bastard. Even if they’re just his subordinates, is it really okay with turning these cultists against each other like that? That guy probably has no idea what he just gave his superior. If this blows up—”

“It’s fine. The only one who’s going to see this through is Helga Brandt.”

I checked the status window. I always did before dealing with Pleroma. To us, information was as good as life itself.

As expected, none of the subordinates had any particularly noteworthy abilities. I couldn’t be completely certain, since Special Abilities didn’t all appear in the Traits slot—I had a theory that only abilities involving souls, such as interfering with someone else’s soul, showed up there—but everyone here was pretty underwhelming. Helga Brandt was the only exception.

‘Prophet.’

That was the name of his Trait. Ismailov’s status window was filled with nothing but dashes, so there was no way to know whether he possessed the same ability. But this Prophet wasn’t just a title like “Pleroma’s Prophet,” which I’d used when referring to Ismailov. This was clearly an actual ability—something related to foresight, much like how Narke could glimpse the future.

Even if it wasn’t the same as Ismailov’s, this ‘Prophet’ Trait matched one I’d briefly seen on another member of Pleroma before, though I’ll put that aside for now. 

Just as the Undersecretary of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and Emanuel Wittelsbach of Bavaria shared the same ability, or how countless nobles—and politicians—shared the Charm Trait, there was nothing unusual about Traits overlapping. It was simply something worth keeping in mind.

Mecklenburg frowned thoughtfully and rubbed his chin, apparently unconvinced by how highly I rated Helga Brandt’s abilities.

“…I don’t know what you mean by going all the way, but he seems pretty sloppy too.”

Maybe they weren’t sloppy. Maybe we were just that good. Or maybe it was both.

Looking down at Helga Brandt, who was still sleeping soundly, I muttered, “I was disappointed… but I tried to see it from their side. Think about it. This is the backwater of Russia. It’s not exactly a place where powerful mages come wandering in. To them, this was about as likely as lightning striking an empty field. Looking at it that way makes it a little less disappointing.”

“…So you’re saying it’s because we’re that strong? We’re really that impressive? Well, I am, but listen to you praising yourself…”

Yeah, right. As if I could tell him we actually belonged to the Imperial Mage Association. He hadn’t joined yet, but since he was destined to graduate early and enter the Association anyway, there was no doubt he was already exceptional, even as a high school student.

I answered with nothing more than a smile, reopened the booklet, and resumed reading where I’d left off. I had just started committing everything on the pages to memory when Mecklenburg suddenly spoke up.

“…You messed with that subordinate’s mind, didn’t you?”

“…….”

“I’ve been thinking about it ever since Munich-Freising. Ever since the day you saved me after I passed out…”

“Einsiedel saved you.”

“No, you did too. You can use divine power.”

I looked at him without saying a word. Staring at the floor, Mecklenburg muttered, “I’m not an idiot. Back in Munich-Freising… on the last day… my memories—”

“We’ll talk about it later.”

That wasn’t the priority right now. First, I needed to gather every piece of useful information before Helga Brandt woke up. Smiling at Mecklenburg, I snapped my fingers.

— Seek, and you shall find.

“Declinatio.”

When I first came in here, I used a search spell. Oddly enough, when I searched for Yuri Alekseyev, only one thing lit up. There were only two possible explanations.

First, not only the leadership but even Pleroma’s Kaluga Center in the Russian branch had no intention of using Yuri Alekseyev as the ‘Messenger of the Covenant’ yet. At this point, he was nothing more than one of the many orphans under their watch. No one had realized how important he was.

Second, they’d encoded Yuri Alekseyev’s name. In other words, they already knew his importance and had concealed it to keep it from leaking. If that was the case, I wouldn’t be able to find anything about Yuri Alekseyev until I figured out the code.

We already know the Kaluga Center intends to bestow its blessing on everyone at Lavrentyev Monastery. And naturally, this backwater city has more than just Lavrentyev—Kaluga is home to plenty of monasteries.

That gave me my answer. Which possibility was more likely? Obviously the second.

So this time, I searched for another word I’d seen in the letters—Declinatio. It was clearly important, even if I still wasn’t sure what it meant. Once again, only a handful of places lit up. Aside from the letter mentioning the “German” I’d already checked, the most recent one read:

[Perhaps we were wrong to believe there would be a prophet in our era. Other than His Holiness, that is. In our age, there is no one capable of undergoing Declinatio, nor anyone capable of bringing about another’s Declinatio. Again, with the sole exception of His Holiness.]

“His Holiness” would normally refer to the Pope. Here, though, it meant the leader of Pleroma, not the head of the Catholic Church.

I continued reading the letters that came after it.

[Γεώργιος? I don’t understand why you’re so fixated on him…. Wouldn’t it be better to look for someone else? Surely you’re not insisting on Russia just because you’re fluent in Russian. You’ve already been in Russia for nearly three years. It’s time to give up.]

[What do you mean, where should you go? You’ve been with our Order since the very beginning. You could take a position anywhere. Brandenburg? Hamburg? Just say the word. I’ll see what I can do.]

[‘The time has come’—how many times have you said that now? How much longer are you planning to stay in Russia? Three years have already passed waiting for this so-called ‘right time.’ Besides, how are you supposed to change that child? I’ve said it before, but people here in Brandenburg are starting to doubt your ability. They say you aren’t seeing the future at all—only hallucinations.]

[You want to turn everyone into Pleroma?! It’s even more absurd that you actually got permission for this. How exactly do you plan to do it? Go around blessing people one by one? And if someone can’t receive the blessing, they’ll simply die, won’t they? Letting so many people die all at once is far too dangerous.]

‘Hmm.’

Good. I kept flipping through the letters after that, but there were simply too many to find anything worthwhile. Once again, I looked around the room and snapped my fingers.

— Seek, and you shall find.

“Γεώργιος.”

Georgios in Greek. It had appeared at the beginning of the letter I’d just read. It was the origin of the name Yuri, and apparently the codename they used when referring to Yuri Alekseyev.

[People with remarkable abilities can be found anywhere. So what exactly are you planning to do with this Γεώργιος?]

[He reminds me of Hansel and Gretel¹…. It almost feels as though we’ve become the witch fattening children up to eat them. Of course, what’s truly remarkable is that we’ve found a child capable of doing the ‘eating.’ But it’s still unclear whether Γεώργιος can actually ‘devour’ anything at all—I trust you, but people here dismiss your claims as delusions. And even if you’re right, our position remains unchanged. So what difference does it make? Are you saying this ability to ‘devour’ is what triggers a Declinatio? That he’ll become some mutt sniffing after the soul of the Exalted One? But that isn’t Declinatio. And frankly, even if that child reached the heavens, he’d amount to nothing more than a mongrel. Shall I explain further? The point is this: Alexander the Great² has no power to save anyone. Whatever this ability to devour may be, it has nothing to do with our salvation!]

‘Alexander.’

Okay. That has to be another codename for Yuri Alekseyev. They certainly like using a lot of codenames. I lightly rested a hand on my head and cast the spell again.

— Seek, and you shall find.

“Alexander.”

I pulled a glowing sheet of paper from the bottom corner of the bookshelf, and my eyebrows rose at once. The handwriting was different from every letter I’d read so far.

[Alexander the Great’s glory lasted for only a single age. Your discovery will lead us into civil strife. Ten years from now, our ranks will be overrun with Diadochi³. We are children of Abraham by faith, not the children of Ishmael⁴. In our age, the children of Ishmael are heretics who must be eliminated, because they will soon become the Diadochi.]

This one wasn’t from the colleague I’d been reading earlier—was this sent by someone in the leadership? Anyone could tell it was a letter criticizing Helga Brandt, and judging by what came next, Helga Brandt must have taken offense. Attached to the page in front of it was a reply Helga had written in firm, deliberate strokes.

[You see only the tip of the iceberg and miss the whole. If that’s the case, why don’t you claim the Gospel of Luke is apocryphal? It doesn’t exactly fit your tastes, does it? Of the four Gospels in the New Testament, the one that speaks most powerfully to our age is Luke. We are the true descendants of Abraham, yet people fail to see that and instead call us the children of Ishmael. We are the persecuted and the lowly—what meaning is there in condemning Ishmael ourselves? And another thing—I’ve held my tongue long enough. You are all remarkable people, but you’re blind to what’s truly important. If you can’t believe me, then go back into the womb a second time! Even if I say that, you’ll only reject my words and ask, “How can such a thing be?”—]

That was where it ended. He must have decided not to send it after all. Looking at the comparison he used, that was probably for the best. Besides, the two sides clearly weren’t even using the children of Ishmael to mean the same thing.

Clack—

I let out a long breath and closed the file. Leaning against the bookshelf, I looked from the still-unconscious Helga Brandt to Mecklenburg, who sat on the sofa looking thoroughly annoyed.

“…….”

This is turning into a real headache.

So now I finally know what Declinatio means.

Declension. A name they use as a metaphor for the Messenger of the Covenant—their messiah.

And so, returning to the present.

I forced all thoughts of Declinatio out of my mind and slipped back into character.

“I’m curious. What exactly is it that you like about me?”

To be honest, this act was a little difficult. Even if I’d supposedly given my tacit consent—that was the role I’d chosen to play, after all—breaking into someone else’s office was still… kind of sleazy. Showing someone ransacking your office and then trying to smooth it over with romantic dialogue? Personally, I thought that was pretty lame. Not that he cared. All he wanted was my mana.

Still, confidence wins every time. Mecklenburg silently gagged beside me, but I decided to ignore him from now on. I shrugged at Helga Brandt, who continued watching me in silence.

“It’s interesting, isn’t it? I happened to open some documents and found my own name.”

“How much do you know?”

“Hm?”

I looked at him as if I had no idea what he meant. After staring at me for a moment, Helga slowly withdrew his hand from inside his jacket. Then he smiled.

“I’m impressed. You recognized it was your name from just that brief glance.”

“I like the puzzle section on the back page of the evening paper. I solve it every day.”

Helga let out a dry laugh. That’s it? He was undoubtedly thinking something along those lines. Pretending not to notice, I continued.

“If someone turned out to care about me more than I expected… I figured giving them my mana might not be such a bad idea. It’s only mana, after all.”

“Indeed. It’s only mana.”

“Ah… did I say something wrong?”

“No. I already knew you were this sort of person.”

This sort of person? What did he mean by that? Someone whose personality wasn’t worth much after all? I must have looked puzzled, because Helga Brandt grinned.

“If anything, this is a nice change. After spending the past week ignoring all my messages and refusing to meet, we finally get to have a conversation like this.”

“I tend to be cautious at first. But once I know what someone’s really like, I warm up to them pretty quickly. That’s why I assumed you’d sent someone to deliver those letters on your behalf.”

Yeah, this was exactly the problem. I had to shamelessly sell my own fake persona out loud. Uleeeeurgh… A wave of nausea surged right up to my throat, but since Mecklenburg was dry-heaving in my stead—why was he doing it even though he couldn’t hear a thing through the soundproofing spell? Maybe it was because of my expression—I decided not to make things worse myself. I glared daggers at Mecklenburg, whose face control was completely falling apart, and turned my head back toward Helga.

“How many hours is this going to take?”

“We’ll probably be at this for the rest of the day.”

“What about meals?”

“We can call someone in when it’s time.”

“Straightforward enough.”

So he could summon people here. Or maybe he planned to finish everything before that became necessary. Either way, thanks for the information.

Silence settled over us again. Unlike before I brought up ‘Emil Abel,’ this silence was razor-sharp. We were all on guard, though none of us said it outright.

I let the silence linger before reaching for Helga Brandt’s wrist and bringing it closer to my face. Mecklenburg was probably making the kind of face you’d make after biting into something rotten, but I didn’t care.

“What perfume are you wearing?”

“I’m not sure what it’s called. Want a bottle?”

“Sure.”

Not that I’d ever take it. I smiled, let go of his wrist, and looked ahead again. Sure enough, out of the corner of my eye, I caught Mecklenburg glaring at me with the deepest scowl he’d worn all day.

“…….”

…Man. I want to kick him out. He genuinely looked disgusted. This was all an act, but he seemed to be taking it at face value—or maybe he hated the act itself. Honestly, I should be the one feeling nauseated here.

Still, miserable or not, Mecklenburg had to stay. Otherwise, there’d be no point in me going through all this. Why?

Because Helga had allowed him to watch. Which meant he must’ve decided this was something he could afford to let Mecklenburg see. If anything, I needed one more ally in the room.

‘I just hope this idiot doesn’t get too emotional.’

You never know. If he lost his cool like before, the color I’d changed with divine power might revert to its original state. Though, to be fair, it was hard to imagine anything more shocking than someone asking you to make a child together, so the odds of him getting that worked up again were probably slim.

“Just sitting here is getting boring. I’ll go grab a cigar.”

Helga Brandt started to rise. The moment he mentioned getting a cigar, Mecklenburg and I exchanged a glance before I immediately caught him by the arm. Looking up at him, I smiled gently.

“No. Stay here.”

“…….”

Helga smiled back, glanced between Mecklenburg and me, then sat back down. Instead, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it.

“Papirosy.”

I murmured while studying it before he closed the case.

The color’s different. The filter ends on the others all had a bluish tint, but the cigarette he’d just taken out was wrapped in gray paper. Earlier, I’d also noticed his cigar bands came in two different colors. Wasn’t that a little too similar to be a coincidence…?

I’d already gotten the answer when I stepped outside and spoke with Councilor Alexander Kluger.

“Yeah. I smoke them outside all the time.”

“Can you even smoke while extracting mana?”

“Who knows.”

“Hmm.”

I plucked the cigarette from his hand and snapped it in half. I had to avoid breathing it in, while making it look like I wasn’t holding my breath. Helga Brandt’s expression hardened.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Let’s focus.”

“On what?”

“Me.”

BOOM!

The instant the words left my mouth, a deafening crash shook the floor. However…

For all the noise—as though someone were about to warp through space—nothing changed. Of course not. The restraints were suppressing our mana. Helga Brandt, who had slammed his foot into the floor hard enough to shake the room, slowly lifted his head at the completely unchanged scene. A sharp light gleamed in his eyes.

He’d realized what I was trying to do.

I’d done everything I could to keep his guard down, but it hadn’t been enough. At the same time…

THUD—BANG!

My preparations had been thorough, and my deductions were solid. I shoved his upper body off the sofa, pinned one of his thighs down with my knee, and searched the pockets of his jacket. He’d probably planned to knock us out with cigarette smoke laced with a custom-brewed drug, then safely remove our restraints afterward. But we’d already figured that out, so that plan was useless now.

Too bad.

Helga Brandt’s fist came flying at me. I tilted my head just enough to dodge it. Not in the outer pocket. Not the left. Not the right. Holding down his right shoulder, I slipped my left hand inside his jacket. Finally, my fingertips caught something metallic.

“…You—!”

A square restraint-release artifact. The magnet-like device was always the same shape. I quickly unlocked the restraints around my wrist and neck, tossed them aside, and threw the artifact to Mecklenburg. The moment Helga Brandt saw mana flowing from my hand, he stopped struggling. His body went limp beneath me. Then booming laughter rang through the room.

“…Hahaha! Hahaha!”

“Something funny?”

Helga Brandt merely twitched an eyebrow, breathing hard—or maybe stifling a laugh. It was impossible to tell. I looked him straight in the eye.

“Declinatio. You know what it is, don’t you?”

“Heh… Latin?”

“You should answer honestly. It’s not just ‘Latin’…”

Grab—

I seized him by the collar and looked down into his gleaming eyes.

“It’s Pleroma’s Messiah, isn’t it?”

The saint destined to realize he is one of the Three Hypostases⁵. I shook my head.

“…You’ve been quite mistaken. You thought Emil Abel was the Declinatio… That’s why you wouldn’t even consider Clemens Schmidt, no matter how many times I recommended him.”

And this guy was connected to Lili Lebenro, the Metropolitan overseeing the province of Brandenburg—the one who had saddled me with Ismailov. The same violet scent. And they both looked ‘oddly’ young, though in different ways. They even shared the same ability.

‘Which means…’

What else could it mean?

Either Helga Brandt was a close relative of Lili Lebenro, or in the worst-case scenario, they were the same person.

“Ghk…!”

And if that were true…

Then this was my chance to ask someone from 1891 what I never got the chance to ask Lili Lebenro himself. I tightened my grip on Helga Brandt’s collar and pulled him closer until our faces were only inches apart.

“Why do you think I am the Declinatio?”

Translator Note

1. Hansel and Gretel — A German fairy tale collected by the Brothers Grimm. In the story, a witch lures two abandoned children to her house, imprisons them, and fattens Hansel so she can eat him. ↩︎
2. Alexander the Great: King of Macedon (356–323 BCE), who created one of the largest empires of the ancient world through military conquest. ↩︎
3. Diadochi (Greek: Diadochoi, “successors”) were the generals and allies of Alexander the Great who fought among themselves for control of his empire after his death in 323 BCE. ↩︎
4. Children of Abraham and children of Ishmael are biblical designations. Abraham is regarded as the patriarch of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. In Christian theology, “children of Abraham” can refer not only to Abraham’s biological descendants but also to those who share his faith (cf. Romans 4; Galatians 3). Ishmael, Abraham’s first son, traditionally became the ancestor of various Arab peoples. ↩︎
5. Three Hypostases: In Christian theology, the three hypostases are the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—the three persons of the Holy Trinity, sharing one divine essence. ↩︎