Wizard of the Deep Sea

TL/ED – Miso

Someone once said this:

That mental pain surpasses physical pain.

That the pain of being abandoned by a loved one is more tormenting than the pain of one’s entire body being set on fire.

When I heard such words, I thought this:

Has this person ever suffered fourth-degree burns over their entire body?

Probably not. They may have been abandoned by a loved one, sure.

I do agree that mental pain is indeed pain. I’m not trying to push the argument that depression is an imaginary illness born of a weak mindset.

But, it’s fundamentally different from tangible physical pain.

That was my conclusion. If mental anguish were more effective than physical pain in creating the Great World, then why would Crimson Circle drown people in seawater or scorch them with fire? The fact that I speak of the Abyss means that I experienced torture akin to that in my previous life.

Unable to breathe, my entire body constricted, with monsters constantly looking for a chance to kill me, ripping the flesh from my bones.

Of course.

‘…Not even once.’

I don’t think I lived a life of such pain.

No, actually, I lived a life quite far removed from suffering.

The worst physical pain I ever received from someone else was getting hit by a flying potato while walking down the street. Maybe it left a light bruise.

Of course, mental anguish is still pain. Ren fell into the Abyss precisely because of the trauma of being abandoned by her parents.

But then again, being abandoned by one’s parents… That level of traumatic experience?

I’ve never gone through anything like that.

Is Korean society’s competitive culture truly that painful?

That can’t be. This place is far worse.

No matter how many times I think it over, I draw blanks. Reflecting on my past life for clues, I eventually just shoved it all to the back of my mind.

It was something I would have to face eventually. But if there’s a wildfire, you focus on putting it out first, not on investigating which cigarette bud started it.

“You seem troubled.”

“…Yes.”

After the incident was settled.

As we rode out of the kingdom, Karos approached me casually and asked.

She had helped me a lot. Even went so far as to risk damaging her own reputation by demanding a bribe.

In the end, her identity as a royal envoy inevitably came to light, but she had carried out Sharmia’s orders faithfully.

So even though her intent to probe for information was blatant, I still answered her.

“Solving one thing just leads to another. Nothing in this world is ever easy.”

“I see.”

A look in her eyes demanding an explanation.

I was going to tell Sharmia anyway. There was no need to hide it, so I just answered.

“I captured a Crimson Circle executive and extracted a bit of information.”

“…!”

Karos gripped the reins so tightly it was clear how shocked she was.

Her horse even seemed to be in pain. I cleared my throat and continued.

“It’s nothing too grand, but I did get a better sense of their goals.”

“…It sounds quite significant to me. What is it?”

“The same thing you already know. They want to create more Fallen. But the method is unique. They want to cast a thin layer of Burden across the world, so that all wizards live in pain and more Fallens are created, something along those lines.”

“Is that even a feasible method?”

“My master said it’s impossible. But there must be some way. The best possibility would be that they’re just lunatics…”

I trailed off.

Crimson Circle is the kind of group that executes rational plans through irrational actions.

They pierced through the Princess’s protection, carried out indiscriminate terror attacks in the Empire, and once their name was known, they chose to grow silently beneath the surface.

By now, several major underworld organizations have probably already kissed their feet. They may be insane, but someone managing them isn’t. Or rather, they’re elegantly insane.

“It feels like we’ve come too far to hope for the optimistic outcome.”

“I agree.”

Karos took on a deeply contemplative expression.

“Jern. If… a veil of Burden were to cover the world.”

“Yes.”

“Would that affect ordinary people too, not just wizards?”

“Hmm, it likely would. Imposing a Burden would mean tampering with the Material Realm itself, and that’s where ordinary people live.”

“But ordinary people aren’t their target. Their only goal is to create more Fallen wizards.”

“That’s true.”

I shrugged as I replied.

“Which is exactly why they don’t care about anything outside their objective. To put it a bit extremely, if it took sacrificing ten thousand civilians to create one Fallen, they’d do it a hundred times over.”

“…”

Karos probably already understood this to some extent.

It must simply be hard to accept. I had sensed it before, but seeing how she worshiped the Princess like a god, it became clear that she, too, was someone who lived with justice as her purpose.

“Don’t worry too much. If we know, we can stop it. If something were to happen, Princess Sharmia would foresee it and prevent it, wouldn’t she?”

“Ugh…”

Karos’s hand, holding the reins, trembled slightly.

“What happened to the executive you captured?”

“He took his own life. He must have returned to Crimson Circle.”

“It must be… Lump.”

“Hm? So you knew?”

I realized after speaking. She was the Princess’s guard knight. Of course she’d know the faces and names of Crimson Circle’s known executives.

Karos nodded slightly and continued speaking.

“His name came up a few times in conversations with Her Highness. In terms of combat ability, it’s only as strong as the body it borrows from knights, so it’s on the weaker side. But since it revives endlessly from Crimson Circle’s base no matter how many times it’s killed, it’s a nuisance we always suffer damage from whenever we face it.”

Has she fought it before? That was an assessment with a complete understanding of Lump’s traits.

As I was thinking that the Empire was more competent than I’d thought, Karos looked at me with a determined gaze.

“I’ve heard many things from Her Highness that no one else could know. Not because I’m special. I merely received a trickle of the knowledge she holds.”

“Hmm… I see.”

“Jern. You also know of Crimson Circle executives that others do not.”

What’s this? Is she showing off?

When I gave her a look that basically said, “So what?”, she cleared her throat and got to the point.

“I can tell you. About the existence of executives who are not known to the public, those no one knows of yet.”

“Did Her Highness discover them with her prophetic ability?”

“…Yes.”

Karos nodded as she answered.

“This time, and perhaps again in the future, I believe you intend to actively engage with Crimson Circle.”

“Yes. It’s a matter directly tied to my survival.”

Right now, I don’t even know exactly what The Three Evils means.

I can only guess that it refers to three Great Worlds in which life can exist, something like that.

“In that case, learning about their core and their methods of operation will be helpful. What do you say?”

“I’m interested. But-”

“I won’t ask for anything in return.”

Before I could even speak, Karos declared it outright.

“This is not a command from Her Highness. It is my personal, independent action.”

“…?”

This knight so madly loyal, telling me such things without the Princess’s order, without any clear purpose?

It was a bit suspicious, but she wasn’t the kind to lie. There was no harm in listening, so I nodded.

“Then I’d be happy to. Shall we talk here?”

Karos looked behind us, then shook her head.

“It will be a long conversation. When you return to the Empire, come find me. I’ll leave word with the palace guards to let you through if you tell them your name and mine.”

“Alright. I’m actually looking forward to it.”

The only Crimson Circle executives I knew in detail were Lump and Decay. So if I could hear about the others, it would be a great help.

I didn’t know why she was doing this all of a sudden, but I offered my pure thanks. She looked ahead again and replied.

“You’ll understand once you hear it, but… you probably won’t believe it.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“Because among the executives, there’s someone you know.”

“…Really?”

“Yes. Not right now, but… soon, they will be.”

Karos’s voice carried certainty.

No way.

In shock, I retraced her attitude toward me until now.

That subtle, inexplicable hostility.

The attempt to coax me…

I frowned and answered.

“I think I know who it is.”

“…What?”

She seemed startled that I had figured it out before she said anything and asked again.

“You figured it out?”

“Yes. There’s only one person around me who’s closest to Crimson Circle.”

“…Who do you think it is?”

“So this is what they mean by ‘betrayed by the axe you trusted.’”

Under Karos’s surprised gaze, I gave the answer.

“Well, my master has been acting like she’s about to Fall lately.”

So Dersia, this crazy master of mine, eventually falls and joins Crimson Circle.

I knew from when she trapped people in books and manipulated memories.

When I said that with a sigh, Karos responded sharply, her tone a mix of relief and exasperation.

“You’re completely wrong. Absolutely not.”

“…Huh?”

Then who could it be?

I had no clue at all.

*

A small mountain behind a city.

In a cave somewhere halfway up that mountain, a man opened his eyes.

Cold. That was the first thing the man realized as he clutched his head and sat up.

“…My head.”

With a pounding headache threatening to split his skull, memories of the previous night slowly returned.

He was a herbalist. He had learned how to identify and gather herbs from his father and, having learned nothing else, was content with that as his life’s work.

He had gone up the mountain. To collect glowgrass that shimmered at night…

That’s where his memory cut off.

“…Where is this?”

Ignoring the persistent, throbbing pain in his head, he looked around. A cold, narrow, and dark cave. In the kind of chill that seemed like water would freeze as soon as it was poured, half-frozen slush-like water trickled along the floor.

In other words, it had just flowed. The herbalist soon realized his whole body and clothes were soaking wet.

And from those wet clothes came a cold far worse than the cave’s.

As if he had just been frozen until moments ago.

“…”

Chilled to the bone by a situation that was impossible to understand, he forced himself to recall.

What the hell had happened last night, when his memory blacked out?

‘Right, I met someone on the slope…’

Fragmented memories began piecing themselves together.

He was a knight. Rather than merely large, the man had muscles like a bear and a frame like a tree, more giant than big.

So, the herbalist killed him.

“…?”

At that, the herbalist wore a dazed expression.

Killed him? He did?

That knight? The one wielding a greatsword larger than his own body, wearing armor that wouldn’t even scratch if you hurled a rock at it?

But it was true. Though he’d never fought seriously except for childhood games, he had toyed with the knight and torn him apart with ease.

“N-no, that’s not right…”

The herbalist shook his head.

A lifetime of climbing this mountain told him the truth. That mountain was different. The hands and feet that killed that knight were not his.

But the memories were.

The look of terror on the dying knight’s face, the sensation of breaking that armor. All of it was vividly real.

“Ugh…”

The headache gradually worsened.

One after another, different memories surged through his mind. He was a farmer, a guard, and at times, a knight.

The guard killed the farmer. The farmer killed the knight. The knight killed a merchant. He killed himself, and then another version of himself killed that self.

Endless loops. Countless versions of himself killing and being killed, with no clear beginning or end.

“A-Aaaaaaargh…!”

Realizing what memory was coming next, the herbalist desperately resisted, rolling on the cave floor.

He had to stop it. This memory must not reach that place.

If it did, he’d become part of it. One more cog in that endless cycle.

An indescribable terror wrapped around him. But the memory, once triggered, could no longer be stopped.

It merely continued, slowly devouring him.

Eventually, the herbalist saw.

[W-Who are you?]

[This one doesn’t matter either?]

[Well, the more preparations, the better, right?]

The familiar mountain slope.

A familiar self.

And then, death.

“Ah……..”

Just like that, he was devoured.

The herbalist could no longer distinguish between his past memories and himself as a herbalist.

But the memories continued to gnaw away at the body left behind.

The remaining body kept twitching, replaying the etched memories.

For a long time.

The sun set, and rose. Then set again.

“…Fuck.”

By the time he rose again, he was no longer the herbalist.

Lump clutched his head and glared up at the night sky beyond the cave, then, as if it were only natural, yanked off his own hand.

-Snap. The severed hand writhed and squirmed, turning into a lump of flesh with ears.

Lump reported without the slightest hesitation.

“You probably heard from Decay, but Dersia joined the battle. That bitch had set a trap. Well, what can you do, she’s a 9-Star wizard. I got caught.”

[…]

The twitching ear changed shape this time, turning into a mouth.

[Confirmed. Anything unusual?]

“Hmm…”

Lump tapped his head with a light knock.

He felt like there was something more, but having just finished a fusion, it didn’t come to mind easily.

Of course, the thought that there was something more might also be part of the Burden, so he didn’t take it too seriously.

As Lump mulled it over, something surfaced in his mind.

“Ah, right. There’s one thing I confirmed while caught in the trap.”

[What is it?]

“That Fallen disciple she’s raising, he’s a Great World.”

[…The one Decay was trying to recruit. Did you identify which world it is?]

“Nope. I’m not a Great World, how would I know that?”

Lump hesitated in his memory for a moment.

For some reason, it was hazy, and the scene didn’t come back clearly. It was more like the fact surfaced rather than the memory itself.

“Still, no need to worry. He didn’t seem like much. Just another guy about to be crushed by the Burden.”

[I see. Confirmed.]

“…Hmmm.”

After the report was done.

While trying to organize his muddled thoughts, Lump realized a few details didn’t quite fit together.

“Strange…”

The muddiness of memory was expected, but some parts felt like they were shrouded in fog.

At a glance, it could be blamed on the acceleration of the Burden.

As he focused on those few parts, Lump soon rose to his feet.

“Tch, no idea.”

Maybe it was because not much time had passed since the fusion.

If it kept being unclear, he could just check later. With that relaxed mindset, he looked down at the village beneath the mountain.

“Since I used this one this time…”

I’ll have to expand the range a bit more.

And with that, the fate of the villagers was sealed.