Chapter 31: How to survive the IMPOSSIBLE?
One could feel the supernatural but could not see it. There would be beasts and monsters coiling around, and humans would not even bat an eye. Why?
Because they could not perceive it—a thin veil separating the worlds in order. The veil which separated the seven heavens, seven hells, and the seven worlds.
One of the worlds being none other than the human world, where both heaven and hell could not help but be obsessed. Why? Because this world was the place infused with the most divinity.
Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was something else. When the great tragedy happened, when the universe was infused with divinity for the first time, the human world sucked in the most divinity. Humanity absorbed most of the divinity.
Driving through the road, Claude was still on the wheel. But his eyes were slightly tired. Obsessively tired. He took turns and pathways which Amon never thought of, and Amon didn’t ask. Only scoffing away the notifications again and again.
[Error: time dilation detected]
[Error: time dilation detected]
[Error: time dilation detected]
[Error: time dilation detected]
.
.
.
What the hell, do I have to mute it again? Amon thought, muting all the notifications of his system.
"Claude..." Amon called.
"Yeah?" he replied, his eyes still on the road.
"You look tired, want me to take the wheel?"
"No!" Claude screamed, in irritation he didn’t know why. Amon wanted to guess if he’d found out about his memories, but he didn’t ask, as he didn’t have the guts to.
Outside, another accident occurred, the gas station exploding. Three accidents, three such accidents had occurred in their drive, many people watching in dismay and some hunters among them jumping into action.
"Wanna-be heroes, huh," Amon said.
Claude turned to see two hunters saving a whole crew of men, both of them sharing strength, sharing Ember and slight divinity.
"One’s name is Raj, and the other’s name is Clavicular," Claude replied.
"Oh, you knew them? Didn’t know you were the extrovert kind of guy."
Claude smiled, though he wanted to reply no, he didn’t know them like friends. He knew them from when one of them had sacrificed himself to save him, while Amon was busy fending off underground beasts. Beasts which would come onto the road before them.
So he just turned, taking another long cut. And like always, his master, Amon, would say the same words.
I wanted to say wrong turn, but you must have taken it for a reason, Claude thought.
"I wanted to say wrong turn, but you must have taken it for a reason," Amon said.
It was already their fourteenth ride. He wouldn’t know it, and he wouldn’t know when they were out of Richmond and back on the road beyond the jungle. Richmond would be no more.
***
After eight hours.
They were in a hotel once more. On the TV it was clear: a city suddenly encased by beasts and monsters. The hunter brigade couldn’t make it in time.
Claude huffed, leaning back in his sofa, as he and Amon looked at the anchorwoman crying, asking forgiveness for being unprofessional, as she had just lost her father, who was in the city.
Claude turned to Amon, watching him take in that tragedy with his cold golden eyes.
Is he already numb to it? Living for so long? he thought. A part of him wanted to save it, but he had given up on that after the tenth try. Why? Because the man before him didn’t care, not even an ounce, saying the same thing he was going to say now.
This will make humanity stronger.
"This will make humanity stronger," Amon said, shutting the TV and going to his bed. Lying down again. "Sleep for now, Claude, we will reach our shortcut tomorrow."
Claude only nodded, closing his tired eyes, hoping his skill would not activate once more.
Silence.
"I know what you are thinking," Amon asked. His eyes still closed.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"How I can be so cold... with my strength I could save every one of them."
"I don’t know, can you?" Claude asked, his voice slightly turning cold.
"..." Amon didn’t answer, turning to the side. "Let’s just sleep. A hefty day tomorrow."
Claude said nothing as well, turning to the other side too, his eyes still open. He could still remember. In that one cycle, she was there, the mother of witches. Liliana, she called herself. She had said, looking at him:
"You poor thing, he is taking your memories, isn’t he?" she had asked.
Claude had had no words, and died from a demon’s attack out of nowhere. He didn’t take the same turn in another cycle. Hence not meeting her ever again.
Memories? Amon can’t do that to me. He can only do it to himself, he thought, looking back at Amon. Erasing his own memories every thousand years or so.
He was sure the shortcut he was talking about was something he had written in some journal and forgotten about. Some spell he once knew, some millennia ago.
He thought about it again. In actuality, he could, if he ever tried. Erasing others’ memories, as he was Amon, the one who stands when everyone falls.
No, he wouldn’t, he thought, going back to sleep.
***
In the morning.
Amon smelled the coffee once more, but it didn’t taste quite the same. Still, it was good. He didn’t say much about the coffee, knowing Claude’s judgy eyes.
"Come on, numbstick, how long are you gonna grieve? That’s just the cycle of life, you are born into this world and you die. Why overthink the process in between?"
Claude was still reading the enchantment book, ignoring Amon altogether. The subject was memories, how one could enchant a spell to devour memories, and, as it was written, no memory can be erased permanently. It is in the hands of the one to whom the memory belongs.
If he or she wants to forget it, she or he shall forget about it, but if one tries to remember it, then one way or another, the erased memory will flourish back.
It was a B-tier skill. Easy to learn, if one was an A-class hunter or C-class witch.
Thud!
Claude closed it. "So, where to?" he asked.
Amon turned, taking out a small weathered notebook, and a small eyeglass, zooming in on his coded notebook, which only he could read, using that one eyeglass.
"It is... just five kilometers away. We’ll be there in a jiffy."
Claude sighed in slight relief, hoping he would not have to die again. So he stood up, when Amon held his wrist.
"...What?"
"I will save them..."
"Save what?"
"Haaa." Amon sighed, standing up. "I will save them, if I see the said person is in trouble, or is going to die."
Claude wanted to say some retort, but he didn’t say anything, as he felt warmth in those golden eyes for some reason.
"A promise, then?"
"A promise."
Paying and walking to the door, Amon sniffed, smelling something strange. When they got out of the hotel, there they stood, three individuals. Claude knew none of them, but Amon did.
"We just came to talk..." the one in the middle said.
"Ha, what do you want now, after destroying a whole city?" Amon asked. "Astaroth."
"Wait, Astaroth? Astaroth, the Duke of Hell?" Claude asked.
The man in flesh smiled. "Indeed," he said, bowing down ever so slightly. "We have not come for war but we have come to talk..."