HEO 38

And then hell.

The ‘hell’ that met Wolf’s eyes was a sight that matched human imagination. A vast cavern covered in jagged rocks. Damp humidity. Countless stalactites hanging from the ceiling, pointing at people like sharp spearheads.

Suddenly, a stench wafted out. The fishy smell of water crawling across the floor. The foul, earthy odor that rose only from dug-up graves. However, the six-legged goats said to guard hell or the giants with flayed skin were nowhere to be seen.

Wolf looked up at the monster again. Could that be a local deity of Stoll?

Except for the stalactites and stench, hell’s overall appearance resembled Black Weasel’s lair. The luminous ore was identical. The howling madmen all seemed to be people from Stoll. Starting with their appearance…

Huh?

Suddenly, goosebumps rose on Wolf’s back. He felt an unsettling premonition. Those people… No way.

Men and women with shaved sides stood out everywhere. Their noses were red like sailors trapped aboard a ship for months, drinking only alcohol instead of water, and they wore axes or long swords at their waists. No matter how he looked at them, they resembled the warriors who had caused a ruckus at the inn tavern. Looking around further, he saw the riffraffs who had surrounded visitors and caused a commotion.

Separately, quite a few men, women, and children of ordinary appearance were also visible. Most were huddled together in groups of about eight or ten, clinging tightly to each other. These groups consisted of adult men and women with children, or teenage boys and girls. These seemed to be the people of the river harbor village.

Only belatedly did Wolf recall the most fundamental question he’d completely overlooked.

Why did we die? Who killed us?

“Hey.”

Suddenly, Silver jabbed Wolf’s side. The latter nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Uh… What?”

“Look over there.”

Silver gestured with his chin. He saw a family trembling as they huddled together. One girl among them looked familiar to Wolf. She was the girl who had been tending the tavern counter.

“These people here. They’re all from the harbor.”

“Definitely, as far as I can tell…”

“Over there. That guy who picked a fight with us is there too.”

A familiar man appeared where Silver pointed. That warrior, who looked like a twin to Black Weasel, stood with arms outstretched. He was staring at the monster with a face full of awe.

[Bark! It’s Bark!]

“Bark…?”

Wolf muttered in confusion, and Silver explained.

“In Stoll, it means ‘death’. It also refers to the god of death. In mythology, the god of death appears as a white skeleton. I guess that thing floating in the air looks like the god of death to that guy.”

“Is it the god of death? At least to me, it doesn’t look like a god of love or a god of healing. Looks aren’t everything, but that thing is just too hideous. Besides, we’re dead, so it must be the god of death… right?”

Wolf’s voice trailed off. For some reason, Silver didn’t seem to think the monster was the god of death.

Does Silver know something?

“Silver, does that thing look more like an evil spirit than a god to you? Is there a specific spirit you’re thinking of?”

Wolf cautiously asked. Silver shook his head.

“I don’t know if it’s a god or an evil spirit. But…”

“But?”

Instead of answering, Silver crossed his arms and stared down. His gaze seemed to be looking at a rolling dice. As the silence dragged on, Black Weasel looked at Silver, curious. After a long pause, Silver finally opened his mouth.

“‘The heavens are weeping.’ Stoll’s adage. Remember?”

“Ah, that? Yes.”

Wolf nodded. The mysterious incident where a tribal village was suddenly wiped out one day. No traces of looting, only people brutally murdered.

In other words, Silver suspected ‘the heavens’ as the main culprit behind the killings. A conclusion befitting a superstitious believer.

“Um, Silver. That’s a bit of a leap. Isn’t it more likely the prince’s half-brother’s doing? We were attacked by assassins, and the warrior unit wiped out the entire river harbor.” Just as Wolf cautiously tried to speak,

“Oh!”

Black Weasel clapped his hands.

“That’s it! That makes sense! For the first time in my life, I’m impressed by you, Silver.”

“Lower your voice, bastard. If I were that skeleton, I’d strike you down for being so noisy.”

Silver elbowed Black Weasel’s chest and signaled to Wolf.

“Hey, what do you think? Doesn’t it fit perfectly? These folks just had the misfortune of running into some transcendent being and got wiped out.”

“Uh… Hmm… Could be…”

Wolf, who had been hesitating, quickly changed the subject.

“But what did that thing say earlier?”

“Execution.”

“Execution?”

“Yes. Not sure what it’s trying to execute, though.”

Silver shrugged.

“Judging by its appearance, it’s not playing hide-and-seek or finger puppets. It’s obviously going to torture us or something.”

“Well, it is hell after all…”

Just as Wolf muttered this, Red Eagle, who had been burying his face in Wolf’s chest, suddenly raised his head.

“It’s unfair! I’m from Atania!”

“You-Your Highness?”

“God of Stoll! Please revive Wolf and me! We’re Atanians! We’re not Stolls! We don’t even speak Stoll! Atanians should be punished in the hell of the Atanian gods……!”

Red Eagle stretched both arms toward the monster and shouted. Wolf grabbed Red Eagle’s shoulders and shook him.

“Calm down, calm down! Stop this pointless protest, Your Highness. We’re not even real Atanians either.”

“No! No! I’m going back to the princess! Charlotte!”

[This bastard’s gone mad.]

Black Weasel spat on the floor. Silver pushed Wolf aside and grabbed Red Eagle by the collar. He immediately slapped Red Eagle across the face.

“Silver! What are you doing?!”

Wolf shouted in shock, but Silver paid no heed. He delivered five or six slaps before stepping back. Red Eagle blinked dazedly. Palm prints were stamped across both cheeks like red ink.

“Your Highness, are you all right…….”

Just as Wolf was supporting Red Eagle, Silver raised his head, eyes wide. Wolf looked up too, horrified.

A gigantic doll appeared out of nowhere and floated in midair. Patchwork of colorful rags. A rough, weathered face. Its lips, painted red, were curled into a smile. Bells dangled from the pointed tip of its hat.

But what was most eerie was its movements. The doll’s limbs were connected by thin silver threads extending from the skeleton monster’s fingers, and it danced, twisting its limbs along the threads.

A clear voice rang out from somewhere.

〔I will begin observing the subject group’s reactions.〕

〔Just follow my instructions step by step. It’s not difficult.〕

***

〔Let me explain the assignment you’ll be participating in. The assignment is called “Water Bottle Game.”〕

The voice continued speaking. Even to Wolf, who was deaf to Stoll’s words, it sounded kind, polite, and calm. The tone was similar to the skeleton’s… Wait a moment?

This… isn’t it Atanian?

The moment he thought that, the voice spoke.

〔Did that surprise you? We’re granting you special treatment.〕

Red Eagle, who had been slumped like a defeated soldier, opened his eyes wide and raised his head. Wolf also gaped. Logically, a foreign language should be nothing to a subordinate of a transcendent being, but it was still fascinating.

〔First, form groups of six. Gender or age doesn’t matter. Form groups of six within six rotations of the clown.〕

The voice repeated the same words.

〔Gender or age doesn’t matter. Form groups of six within six rotations of the clown.〕

Murmurs rose from all around. Silver squinted to examine the clown, and counted on his fingers.

“It’s a bit weird, but it’s rotating to the beat. Slow 4/4 time?”

“I’ll gather companions. Silver, you stay here and watch the prince and his servant.”

Black Weasel said as he turned away.

“At this age, you at least learn how to judge people.”

“Even dead, you still have a habit of talking nonsense.”

Silver waved his middle finger at Black Weasel’s back. Wolf was surprised by how neither Black Weasel nor Silver were agitated.

There really is something going on here.