The Whisper of the God of Love (Part 13)

“This is…”

After a dizzying sensation, as if his soul had been put through a cosmic blender and spat out the other side, Ewan found himself in an unfamiliar, alien space.

He looked up, taking in his nightmarish surroundings.

An endless expanse of scorched, crimson earth stretched out to a horizon he couldn’t see. Withered, desiccated plants, as sparse and pathetic as a middle-aged programmer’s hairline, were scattered across the dead landscape. Other than that, there was no sign of life.

A searing, unnatural wind, carrying the nauseating stench of old blood, scraped against his skin like a thousand tiny knives.

And in the sky above, amidst an inferno of eternally burning crimson flames, floated a single, gargantuan, and utterly ferocious eye.

Around the eye, a halo-like corona spread out in kaleidoscopic, hypnotic layers. But as Ewan focused, his blood ran cold. The dazzling corona was not light, but countless, withered hands, clustered together, waving in perfect, eerie, and silent unison.

“Holy crap, what in the ever-loving hell is that?”

Once again staggered by a scene that sent his sanity points plummeting into the negative, Ewan instinctively looked at the culprit floating before him: the black book.

Its pages were flipping rapidly, flashing through past entries before stopping on one from so long ago that Ewan had almost forgotten it.

The entry recorded the proper, and very ominous, title of the being before him.

The God Who Melts the World.

The Lord of the Crimson Sun.

The Withered King.

In short, another Evil God.

It had made a brief appearance in the assassin’s prayer, trading its power for the heart’s blood of one hundred children. A single wisp of its crimson flame had been enough to suppress even Celicia’s divine blizzard.

And now, he was standing right in front of it. In all its horrifying glory.

The sheer, pants-wettingly terrifying absurdity of the situation made Ewan’s vision go dark. He grabbed the black book and shook it frantically, snarling, “I told you to find a way to save Anne, not summon another damn Evil God for me to deal with! What’s your grand plan, huh? Drive out the tiger to be eaten by the wolf, then reap the rewards? Let me tell you, before that tiger even shows up, I’m going to die of a goddamn heart attack right here!”

The black book, naturally, did not answer.

However, as if disturbed by the commotion, the great Withered King finally noticed the uninvited guest in its domain. The massive eye swiveled, its ferocious pupil fixing its gaze upon the insignificant little ant.

The moment he was seen, a torrent of insane thoughts, like a school of piranhas drawn to blood, swarmed into Ewan’s mind.

So hot…

Burning…

I want to burn something…

I want to set the world on fire…

I want to go crazy…

Rustle…

The sound of flipping pages, like a cool, gentle breeze, blew the scorching madness from his mind.

Ewan regained his sanity.

But before he could feel any relief, he looked at the black book with even greater terror.

Look at this! I can’t even handle a single glance from this thing! How am I supposed to fight it? This isn’t a strategy, it’s a suicide note!

As if surprised that Ewan was still sane, a flicker of what might have been curiosity appeared in the depths of the ferocious eye. But it was a fleeting, insignificant thing. Like a person noticing a slightly larger-than-average ant in their house.

But, in this eternally barren, crimson land, even a tiny ant was apparently enough to pique the Withered King’s… interest.

And so.

A majestic yet bizarre voice, like the tolling of a thousand great bells at once, echoed across the plains. The sounds flowed and intertwined, twisting and changing, until they finally resolved into a familiar language in Ewan’s ears.

The language of humans.

【MORTAL】

The Withered King spoke, its voice a tremor in the very fabric of reality.

【DO YOU DESIRE POWER?】

“Huh.”

Ewan was stunned. His mouth fell open, wide enough to fit a goose egg.

He hadn’t misheard, had he? A mighty, transcendent Evil God was actually speaking to him? For a fleeting, insane moment, he felt the same star-struck awe as a fan being spoken to by their idol. It’s so gentle, I think I’m in love…

Wait, no! Snap out of it! An Evil God offering you power… isn’t that the setup for every horror story ever?! He was completely naked, with nothing to offer as payment. He couldn’t possibly sell his ass, could he? He had Elka’s horrifying example to learn from!

“This is your grand plan to save her?”

Ewan glared at the black book. It seemed less and less reliable by the second. “Are you sure about this? I know the saying is ‘fight fire with fire,’ but what’s the point of getting rid of one Evil God just to have another one take its place?” Anne would still get eaten!

The black book trembled slightly, as if in response. Unfortunately, Ewan didn’t understand what it was trying to say.

Then, it suddenly floated up. A single page detached itself from the binding and drifted toward the ferocious eye, coming to a stop before the Withered King.

The Evil God seemed curious as to what collateral a mere mortal could possibly offer and turned its gaze to the page.

The next moment, that curiosity turned into… pure, unadulterated disgust.

Yes, disgust. Like an honest man who’s been scammed one too many times seeing a notorious, deadbeat borrower approach him with yet another worthless, never-to-be-honored IOU.

“Hey buddy, can I borrow a few bucks?”

“Don’t worry, I’m good for it.”

“Why are you being so stingy?”

“I’ll pay you back as soon as I can.”

“Definitely. You have my written promise.”

In Ewan’s imagination, that was the level of deadbeat the Withered King was seeing. Its look of disgust was so real, so vividly human, that Ewan half-expected it to swing one of its countless little waving hands and slap the book into next week.

Thankfully, it didn’t. It didn’t lash out in anger and annihilate the book, nor did it crush the little ant who had dared to show up naked in its home.

Instead, it seemed to be… thinking.

The Withered King pondered.

But not for long. Only a moment passed.

A withered, skeletal hand suddenly reached out from the void and grasped the page.

The majestic voice boomed once more.

【THE EXCHANGE IS MADE】

The Withered King looked at Ewan.

【I CAN LEND YOU MY POWER, WITHOUT PAYMENT】

【BUT】

A hint of cruel mockery flickered in the ferocious eye. The Withered King’s gaze pierced through Ewan, seeming to see everything, right down to his very soul. There were no secrets before it.

【ARE YOU CERTAIN YOU WISH TO ACCEPT IT?】

【TO ACCEPT THE POWER OF WHAT YOU MORTALS CALL… AN EVIL GOD?】

“…” Ewan fell silent.

The power to change everything was right before him, yet he hesitated.

He had to.

He wanted to live. More than that, he wanted to be happy. That was the small, simple goal he had set for himself after coming to this world.

But…

Evil Gods were the greatest source of misfortune in this world. Getting involved with them rarely ended well. If he accepted this power, even if he didn’t have to pay the price for now, thanks to the black book, the thread of causality between him and this Evil God would be forever entwined. He would be marked. It would be a brand like fate itself, something he could never easily escape.

He might lose his chance at “happiness” forever.

Even just “surviving” would become infinitely more difficult.

…

“But,” Ewan said with a soft, bitter laugh that held no humor, “do I really have a choice?”