Chapter 27: Temporal guidance
The sun will rise on the half-completed capital the following week. When the magnificent carriage of "guidance" encounters a bumpy road, the centaurs keep it together so that it does not trip and fall. I had a good laugh until the carriage arrived at the palace.
Ragnorr can't help but feel motion sick as he steps out of the carriage. The easy way out would have been to use teleportation.
"Was it your intention to torture me with that, Mikhail? Even though I am your guide?" Ragnorr tries to calm himself but fails, so he pukes to get rid of his headaches. The scene is obnoxious, and it makes me want to join him, but I can handle myself.
"You tricked me into being the sacrificial goat, so this is the least I can do." I giggle. I guess I won't be able to rest in there with the imps carefully escorting the luggage of those accompanying him to the guest chamber. If Andromalius does not return from Aeterna soon, it is best to send him a message after this.
"Technically, you'd be a lamb because you're not a demon anymore." Ragnorr, I suppose, tries to appear more dignified. Those, in my opinion, are futile attempts to preserve his position as the lamb's guide. I am more open to eye-to-eye communication, but if he insists.
“Yes, yes. You are right on the ethics, Ragnorr. A monarch descen-“ Before I am able to finish the sentence, he objects “No, Mikhail. I am talking as a scholar, not that kind.”
Taking a book from the sub-space whose color is purple instead of the usual black. Putting on a monocle, he stops on the page of origin and explains his definition “Demons are either damnation for God or mortals that karma has taken over in their afterlife; you are neither, even with the betrayal, you are still graced by God.”
It's a compelling story, but knowing my true nature, it's doomed because I'm neither an angel nor a demon. And the phrases "graced by God" and "karma" sound so foreign to me. "Graced by God" must have meant my consistent physical appearance; the lack of demonic features is due to the balance of dark and light magic in my vessel, but what about "karma"?
"I agree with your theory that I am still blessed by God, but could you please explain the karma concept?" I express my curiosity. Ragnorr's surprise grip is so strong that he drops the monocle.
"You have no concept of "karma"? It's surprising that an archangel is unaware of karma." Ragnorr examines me thoroughly, from head to toe and front to back. He eventually abandons his observation and gives up.
"Karma is essentially the evil deeds that are being weighed on a scale. It's a difficult concept to grasp because each sin is weighted differently, but you've heard of the seven deadly sins, haven't you?" He says it shortly and tiredly as if he is disappointed.
"I'm familiar with them, but not with the concept of "karma," which may be phrased differently. So, essentially, a human becomes a demon of one of seven sins based on their life sins." It was basic, based on my observations throughout the day in and out of the library. Only sins are explicitly emphasized over and over again, with no mention of "karma." So karma is the scale, and sins are the value, which makes sense.
"You have grasped its basics." Ragnorr reluctantly nods.
So there is a significant gap between the knowledge of both parties. Ragnorr may have tricked me into becoming the sacrificial lamb, but I can tolerate him if he stays true to his scholarly curiosity. I always welcome those who seek and bring the truth.
"Are we going to our session or...?" Ragnorr inquires as he adjusts his clothing. Only now have I felt the stinging sunlight; he must have suffered more than I but remained composed enough not to embarrass himself.
"Oh, I forgot to invite you to the office after that...Please come with me." I make a gesture into the palace behind me.
Ragnorr's presence inside the palace makes the imps nervous. Not because he is threatened with royalty status, but because he is meticulously studying the palace interior, even checking them with spells like 'reveles' and 'senstire'. I'd let it go for now because there's no harm done other than the paranoia he's caused.
"Well, it was a better place for speaking," Ragnorr says as he enters the office. “Soundproof spells, a storage area... Strange sweets, runed book." He points out every "unusual" feature of the palace. From the strange rune enchantment to the possession of sub-space for all servants, I must travel far if everyone is to survive when the heretic extermination arrives.
"So the rumor about this place being out of the ordinary was correct, but it doesn't feel angelic at all. How come?" Ragnorr concludes the deduction with the question, He must be surprised if I change the core of this place to those angelic things. No, the culture should stay even if I am the sovereign.
"I have no plans to change the status of this palace. In any case, I don't see Saudade ever becoming an angelic kingdom." I declare without hesitation, Ragnorr's demeanor changes to one of relief as he sips the tea that he had previously questioned.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"So the rumor of being a betrayer is true. I don't have many doubts because...you must have heard of my ancestor, two of seven monarchs were native to this hell." Ragnorr sighs when mentioning his ancestor; is this because Abaddon, unlike the other five monarchs, was not a betrayer?
"Abaddon and Mammon, an abyssal angel and the concept of greed. Ragnorr, I'm not sure what you're trying to say." I respond. If it was envy, I would tell him to forget about the thought that I will replace those demon monarchs.
"Well, they weren't true traitors because they had never disobeyed their calling. Lord Abaddon destroys the ignorant, and Lord Mammon binds sinners in mortal wealth." Ragnorr brought up the same point that I was, his tone unchanging, so it wasn't envious or wrathful, so what's the point of mentioning it?
"I see you're skeptical about whether I'm a traitor or a divinely sent spy?" I state the only logical reason left, he is unfazed, but his tone appears to be more lenient toward me.
"No, I've already stated my trust in you, just as you trust mine as a demon "king." "I just want you to make a declaration," Ragnorr says as he prepares a scroll that does not appear to be soul-binding paper material.
"How do you want me to make a statement?" I inquire about the declaration and whether or not it is detrimental to my kingdom. I'm not going to make such a big deal out of a simple request.
"Oh, just that you will be the demon's representative, of course, that is my only duty here," Ragnorr says tiredly, wishing to return. I'll have to agree for the sake of both of us. Getting to this point, whether it becomes common knowledge or not, things have already been detrimental.
"Fine, you just made my heart skip a beat with that history lesson of yours," I respond, starting to write on the paper.
The declaration is straightforward, much like my name and what I stand for. Things like an oath or code of conduct don't seem to matter; it appears that the previous was adaptable enough to change the term to "Not betraying the demon kind."
"It has been completed per your instructions; what will it be now?" I hand the scroll to Ragnorr, who reads it. He put his own signature on it and cast 'Imago.' It divided the paper into five identical copies, one for me, one for the guide, and three for the other representative.
"All right, then, ask your messenger to send them, and I'll rest here for a while." Ragnorr takes a seat and relaxes for a moment. He's been casting those searching spells since he arrived, so he's depleted every last drop of mana.
When I ring Ash's black bell, an ominous feeling appears just outside the door. Ragnorr is roused from his brief slumber by the omen of death. Why does Ash teleport in such a dramatic manner?
"Did you call, your Majesty? What letter shall..." Ash falls silent after seeing Ragnorr, who is terrified and on the edge of his chair. "You have a visitor, so please don't let me bother you any longer." Ash shook his head and reached for the door.
"Please wait, you're..." Ragnorr reaches out in an attempt to reach Ash, but his efforts are futile because he appears to be afraid of something. Keeping them near the table. Looking through the thin layer of mana in the air as dark mana engulfed this room. Its plague-like nature spread toward Ragnorr, entangling him into breathlessness.
"I'm sorry, but I have to send these ones quickly. The little majesty's temper is not to be belittled." Ash… No, the royal messenger departs without saying anything else. He and the librarian were two of the seven people who were always absent from meetings. With the identity of the librarian confirmed for the concept of dreams, it is safe to assume that the royal messenger is at the same level of power.
Ragnorr finally being able to breathe clears the room of the tense mana from before. He coughed and choked as if his life depended on it. Such a pitiful sight, but I have no words of sympathy.
"The little majesty?" Ragnorr asks aloud as a sign of his recovery from his encounter with the royal messenger.
"Yes, they would love to call me that, except for sir Andromalius," I respond to the question quickly. However…
“Andromalius? "The 72nd demon of Ars Goetia?" Ragnorr reacts violently as he coughs again.
"Well, haven't you met him as the blood moon ball? After you planned to make me the sacrificial goat." Ragnorr comes to mind. Didn't Ragnorr check the guest list before picking me as the goat?
"I am not the one who plans the goat selection; rather, I am attempting to be an outsider in my own ball." Wasn't that the reason you approached me?" Ragnorr responds with his version of the same night.
When I approached, he was minding his own business, formulating a new spell theory. And when the scarlet light appeared, he didn't want me to block it so he could approach the goat more easily.
The room falls silent once more as a result of our mutual embarrassment. I thought Ragnorr was the new Kryos, and Ragnorr thought I was some weak angel who took the third archangel to save its skin.
"So I've misunderstood you and am holding a grudge for nothing," I apologize.
"And I, who grossly underestimate your power in terms of both welfare and strength." Ragnorr also admits.
Leaving would be too awkward and staying would be a nuisance for both of us. To reconcile our relationship as the lamb and its guide, we need a fresh start.
"Let's start from scratch. From the start, as you exchange greetings." I propose.
"All right, then. I am Ragnorr Abaddon, a descendant of the sloth monarch and ruler of Nott's castle." Ragnorr is the first to speak, declaring them with all of his pride, which is quite low following the confrontation.
"My name is Mikhail, the third archangel, and I am the sovereign of Saudade's kingdom." I continue with a soft voice.
With the silly name declared finished, Ragnorr lets out a simple chuckle of realization. The cooling wind signals the arrival of night, and the last quarter moon appears on a windy night. The cloud that surrounded the moon predicted a rainy day tomorrow.
"What do you intend to do after that declaration of authority?" Ragnorr asks
"How about forming an alliance between us," I suggest half-heartedly.
"I'll consider it." Let us first lay the groundwork." Ragnorr agrees as we exchange information about our kingdoms.
That night, we spent the entire time discussing each other's policies for developing the kingdom. It's interesting to talk to someone who is so focused on his work; Raagnorr is a hardworking sovereign when he shows his defense strategy. When I awoke to the advisor's scolding the next morning. Apparently, when the advisor visited the office, he only found two unconscious rulers sleeping on the desk table.
The end