Chapter 360: The Lost World (15)

"What do you say? Will you exchange the information you have on the author to assess—"

I answered before I could even stop myself, "I will."

"Oh... more eager than I expected."

There was no need to hesitate. This was something I had to hear, as it could be the clue I needed to find the vanished Isaac and Naneow.

White Hood extended a hand. "You're agreeing to the exchange, yes?"

"Of course." I gave it a brief shake, then began explaining what I knew about Ashton. Of course, I left out anything related to the Status Window or regression, glossing over those parts as best I could.

Regardless of their contents, I told him that whenever I read Ashton's books, something inside me shifted each time I closed the final page—a change I could not explain.

White Hood watched me as if he'd truly opened his eyes for the first time. "Good. You're still speaking the truth. Which of Ashton's books have you read?"

Speaking the truth? Could he discern authenticity like the duke?

Sharing the book titles wasn't a problem. I listed everything I remembered, starting with On the World's Unofficial Armed Groups, volume 1, to The Grand Mage Trapped in the Cracks of Time. I didn't forget to include the books where Ashton flaunted pages of his own achievements, and finally, Kevin Ashton and the Lusty Slime Maid.

Only then did something occur to me: if Kevin Ashton really only wrote the truth, what did that mean for the Kevin Ashton and the Lusty Slime Maid series? Kevin Ashton seemed to be far more adventurous than I had imagined.

"Hmm..." Two additional heads appeared beside White Hood’s head. Both were translucent at first, gazing into empty space, eyes closed as if deep in thought. "Incredible... To think that Ashton would write books like these. He originally recorded only secret histories in a dry, concise tone. Do you have the books with you now?"

"I don't have those ones, but I have a few others."

White Hood’s voice grew brighter, almost excited. "You have more? May I see them? I'll compensate you handsomely with more information!"

"Sure."

It wasn't difficult.

Woooom...

I thought it'd be best not to mention that I had over a hundred volumes. Who knew how he'd react? For now, I took out several history books from the same series as the one I had been reading.

White Hood's eyes darted wildly over the pages, exclaiming nonstop, "Amazing! Amazing! The handwriting is certainly his, yet these are all fictional histories! And the writing style is different! Kevin Ashton really wrote these?"

The three heads read at a speed nearly ten times faster than mine.

Gilaut murmured beside me, "Honestly, his form is more shocking..."

I agreed, then asked the man, "Is it really that strange?"

All three heads nodded while reading.

"Of course."

"I've traveled to every corner of the world."

"But Ashton's books were always nearly impossible to find."

The translucent heads grew more solid as they grew absorbed in their reading. Oddly, instead of grotesque, the sight felt almost sacred.

"Hm..."

Yet, despite his enthusiasm, something bothered me. Were Kevin Ashton's books truly that rare? Lime had several, the Erast Library had copies, and when I asked Yube Jinney to find one, he quickly gave me one. The two were impressive in their own ways, but they were nothing compared to the white hood. He was far more extraordinary.

I began to reason through it. The first possibility was that Isaac's and Naneow's erasure had affected Kevin Ashton. That didn't seem likely. Isaac himself said he had never met Ashton, and Naneow wasn't involved at all. Would Ashton have reduced his writing output just because they disappeared? I doubted it.

Then, the second possibility was that I had taken every one of Ashton's books from the imperial archives. Even though the worlds differed, my inventory was shared across them, meaning the hundred-plus books that should have existed in the restricted archives were now with me.

What if the number of Ashton's books were fixed at one hundred? What if the world compensated for the missing volumes by hoarding every remaining copy to fill the gap? That could explain why there were so few Ashton books in this world. It was only speculation, but a possibility.

"May I take these?" asked White Hood.

"Hm?"

While I had been thinking, White Hood had already finished three books. He reached for the remaining three with six hands. "No... If I took these, I'd owe you far too much information... That would be troublesome..."

I had no idea whether he wanted the books or not. He finished the remaining three books in minutes and returned all six neatly. He had read six thick history volumes in under ten minutes.

"So, you're done? Then it's my turn to speak. What did you mean earlier by discarded truths?"

"Good. Using this example will help you understand more quickly. Tell me..." He suddenly lowered his voice. His hood expanded outward, and it felt as though a transparent veil wrapped around us. "Do you believe there are sixteen Demon Kings?"

"Of course! Who doesn't know that?" Gilaut shouted.

I nodded quietly. Across every world, no matter how many times it changed, that fact had remained constant. It was a fixed truth.

"Correct. Sixteen."

"Heh heh heh..."

Dozens of hands emerged from the hood, grasping and releasing me rhythmically.

"Yes. But in truth, the number could be many times greater. They are born when needed, and disappear when not. Just like your Demon Kings, your gods... even your world itself."

"What are you talking about...?" Gilaut muttered, baffled.

He didn't understand at all. And honestly, the man's words hardly felt real, but I had a different view. I had already lived through worlds that shifted depending on my choices. I had already seen firsthand how vastly this worldline differed from the ones before. Therefore, his words were not impossible. If anything, they could've been truer than anything written in the official histories. His words landed with a chill that sank straight into my bones.

"Tell me more."

Moving his pale hands up and down, almost like a prayer, he murmured softly, "I have seen the scars left on the world."

"Scars? Is that what you meant by discarded truths? Where can those be found?"

"The frozen lands at the northern edge of the empire. The farthest reaches of the East, past the sea. And the mortal lands of the West, which even I have not yet reached. If I were to guess, those should be the places."

The frozen north must have meant Towers of Azure.

"The end of the East?"

Beyond even the Tower of Azure in the distant north. The far East, where only a handful could ever reach. Isaac and Naneow were buried at the end of that region, of all places?

"Heh... perhaps you share a thread of fate. But I never said they could be revived. One cannot drink the trace of a droplet after it has evaporated," he answered as though reading my thoughts.

"Can't you be more specific? An exact location, anything!"

He gave a faint, bitter laugh. "Not now. At the very least, I'd prefer if half the human realm were eroded first."

Everything about him, his refusal to introduce himself fully, his promise to explain more later, was tied to the Demon Realm's eventual descent.

"When is that even supposed to happen?! There are at least ten years left before the Demon Kings descend!" My voice quivered with impatience.

Something told me that once this man disappeared, I wouldn't find him again easily, even with regression. Every piece of information he offered about the discarded truths felt critical. This could be the turning point for everything that comes next. My thoughts spiraled in urgency.

"Ten years? Whose imagination is that?" he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

Only then did I realize what I had said. I had let slip the fact that demon descents were supposed to occur ten years later.

"I just assumed that's how it would be..."

"An amusing assumption. Entirely wrong."

"Wrong...?"

"The descent of the Demon Kings will occur within two years at most."

I froze in shock. "...!"

Two years?!

Within two years? It sounded impossible, but White Hood didn’t seem ignorant or careless enough to spout nonsense.

"Are you certain?" I asked.

The central head nodded. "Of course."

"Anyone who needs to know already knows. It's common knowledge. That's why I said it freely. In fact, two years is a generous estimate." All six of his eyes blinked as he glanced around us. "The East is already undergoing full erosion. Yokai who should wither without humans are rising and walking. The signs of the Heavenly-Demon Reverse Resonance appear. Even the beginnings of the Ten-Thousand-Beast Devouring Shroud have been sighted."

I didn't understand the specific terms, but I got the rough picture. Erosion was progressing far faster elsewhere than it was here. Why? Was it connected to Isaac's and Naneow's disappearance? My thoughts scattered in every direction.

White Hood gazed into the darkness ahead. "Any further information might distort the erosion itself. I'll stop here. I still owe you a bit... Ah, yes. Since we're about to arrive, that last piece should settle our exchange."

Gilaut frowned. "Arrive? Where?"

The river was pitch-black, with no shore in sight. Neither my Detection skill nor my eyes sensed any land.

"Do not go back."

The hands that protruded from the hood withdrew all at once.

"Don't go back? What are you talking about?"

"The path behind will be sealed, and you will have no refuge there."

Then, the extra heads also vanished. The many arms and hands dissolved as if they had never existed.

A prickling unease crept up my spine. "What does he know...?"

Without answering, White Hood stepped to the edge of the boat. The transparent barrier that had wrapped around us without my noticing seemed to dissolve.

"Boatman."

A disgruntled voice rose behind us. "What? Why are you calling me now? We're still far from the shore!"

Without even turning around, White Hood simply pointed at us. "Let them disembark safely. I will confirm it later."

"Hah! Who do you think I am—"

Swish!

Before the boatman could finish, White Hood leaped straight into the pitch-black river.

"Huh... look at that..."

His feet did not sink. The stark white of his robe stood in sharp contrast against the raven darkness of the water, as though the river itself were trying to swallow him whole.

"..."

Instead of splashing or jumping, he slid across the surface of the river, sometimes dipping slightly, but never sinking, moving with an uncanny smoothness.

Even the boatman paused rowing to stare. "What the... If he can do that, why'd he even need a ride...?"

He wasn't wrong. If the man could glide across the water like that, maybe he had boarded the ship solely to approach me.

"The more I see him, the stranger he becomes," Gilaut muttered, pressing his hand to his armored arm.

The boatman asked, "What did he mean by not going back?"

"Maybe it was a metaphor? Like, 'always move forward in life'? I honestly have no idea."

"Mm..."

White Hood's warning lingered, but there was nothing more to learn on the boat. Thus, I focused on what I could do. I opened Ashton's history books and spread them on the deck. They covered the seventh-century wars, along with long chapters on the economy and administration that followed.

Ssrrk.

Ssrrrk...

Ssrrrkk...

Gilaut wandered around idly, eventually leaning close enough to watch me read. "I should probably read something too..."

I handed him a volume on imperial architectural styles. "You want a book?"

"I don't have time..." Gilaut flipped through a few pages, then quietly backed away. Suddenly, he turned to the soldiers and shouted, "Gather up! Training session!"

Clatter!

Many soldiers ran over excitedly, though a few seemed less enthusiastic.

[1028 is annoyed.]

[1073 questions the point of training in such a place.]

Occasionally, differing opinions surfaced.

Voom!

"Does the location matter?! Training on a swaying ship is an invaluable experience!" Pressed by Gilaut's forceful presence, everyone reluctantly grabbed their weapons and began moving. "Faster! And precise!"

Voom!

"Another hundred times! Slower this round!"

The steady rhythm of the oars cutting the water, along with the synchronized sound of weapons slicing through the air, created a calming cadence that sharpened focus.

[Wisdom has increased by 2.]

[You have acquired the skill: Architecture Lv. 0.]

[Architecture skill proficiency has increased.]

[Wisdom has increased by 1.]

[You have acquired the skill: History Lv. 0.]

[Wisdom gained from historical texts has increased.]

[Chance of discovering ruins has increased.]

So this was possible too...

[Wisdom has increased by 2.]

[Wisdom has increased by 3.]

[Wisdom has increased by 2.]

[History skill proficiency has increased.]

[Wisdom has...]

It happened the moment I had just finished the final page of the eighth book.

"Friend! Looks like we've arrived!"

Creeeeak.

The boatman's heavy rowing overlapped with Gilaut's shout. Even without using Detection, I saw a flat stretch of land ahead.

Thunk.

"Off you go."

"Thank you."

"Hmph. Lucky bastards." The ferryman grumbled but lowered us gently onto the riverbank before rowing back into the black river and disappearing.

"..."

Darkness smothered the riverside, but with Detection, I could roughly sense ten meters ahead. Gilaut and I began walking forward. We traversed the wide, open land for about thirty minutes.

Gurrlk...

Just then, a thick, sticky sound echoed from the ground.

Gurrk. Gukduk. Gurruruk.

"You hear that?"

Gilaut nodded.

Shing.

We drew our weapons and shifted formation from scouting to defense. However, only a rhythmic vibration pulsed through the soil. No distinct presence, no individual life force at all.

There is something, but...

Gurrlk!Gurrlk!

The vibrations drew closer.

Grrrrr...

"The ground!"

About a hundred meters after first hearing it, something squelched beneath my feet. The earth pulsed with swollen veins and quivering flesh, slick with mucus. Smooth protrusions throbbed beneath the sticky membrane. A gaping, lipless opening exhaled black fumes that dragged a decades-old memory to the surface.

A living ground, unlike anything humans had ever seen. A thin layer of the Demon Realm's flesh soil spread before us.