Chapter 81 – The Other Reason
Now that everyone had been introduced and the situations explained, Orestis decided it was best to leave before Maxim managed to ‘inspire’ Varra any further.
However, when Orestis suggested that they leave, Varra planted herself between them and the nearest exit and announced, “You can’t leave yet! No one departs the lair of the Deathless Calamity without beholding her works!”
Orestis looked at her physically blocking the entrance and raised his eyebrow.
As if we didn’t gate into this place.
He also didn’t fail to notice that she had decided to adopt her future title. It was probably a fortunate thing that she liked this one. It wasn’t so bad. Or, as bad as it could have been. This particular title had been coined by historians when they were recording events—if Varra had been the one to come up with something, the title might have been worse.
Actually, she did come up with a few of her own. We are all lucky the idiot decided to use this one.
Regardless, they were unable to escape without a tour in the end. Varra had acquired an eternal rival and a fresh audience in a single afternoon. And she clearly intended to make full use of both.
Varra’s first stop was the vats containing the prototype arm and skull. They were slated to be recycled, obviously, now that they had better materials to work with. Admittedly, the material still needed refinement before it was ready for use, but that was only a matter of time.
It also needed a name, but Orestis was determined to stay away from that annoyance. He was already suffering enough with the divine essence nonsense.
Varra proudly explained the process of how she came up with the material inside the vats—which she had named Abyssal Essence Crystallite.
With a herculean force of will, Orestis managed to resist the urge to ask why and how it could be ‘abyssal’ when it came from human life force.
The lich went on to talk about how it was outdated now, and how she and Orestis were working on creating a new and improved material for her skeletal frame.
Fortunately, not even Varra was careless enough to reveal exactly what the new material would consist of. No matter how accommodating the idiot could be, learning that it contained the essence of his goddess was unlikely to go over well.
Instead, she declared everything related to the work ‘top secret’, and insisted that divulging such sensitive information to her sworn enemy would be unthinkable. Maxim, of course, played along and agreed that this was a wise and sensible policy.
It was a weird moment for Orestis, watching a situation where her theatrics had somehow proven to be useful. He took another sip of tea, only to discover the cup was empty. Naturally.
The rest of the tour consisted of the lich showing off her hideout as well as the various equipment. She did, however, avoid the crystal storage room—which made sense since that was another place where the subject of materials would inevitably come up.
Eventually, they reached the room that held the soul scanner.
“And this,” Varra said, bouncing over to a stand beside a ring of crystalline spikes, “is going to be my next research project!”
She fed mana into the formation inscribed on the floor between them, and a hazy spectral figure shimmered into being above it: the snapshot of his soul.
Maxim and Aelia were already familiar with the apparatus so they expected the projection. Eirene, on the other hand, was quite fascinated by the thing. Varra was quite happy to walk Eirene through the readings, explaining what the various fluctuations and wavelengths signified and how the apparatus translated them into usable data.
Eventually, even Varra ran out of things to show and talk about. It was with great reluctance that she finally agreed to let them leave.
“Until our destined clash, my rival!” she declared, creating the wings and striking a pose.
“I await it eagerly, undying evil!” Maxim replied, pulling out his sword and striking his own heroic pose.
Orestis sighed as Aelia—red in the face—hurriedly opened a gate back to the village.
I should have brought the pot instead of just a cup.
***
Orestis waited until Aelia had returned to her duties before he presented Maxim with the question. He had been holding himself back for a while now, waiting until they were alone.
“So,” he said. “Was there a point to all that?”
“All what?” Maxim asked, the picture of innocence.
“I’m talking about why you bothered to go through all that eternal rivalry nonsense with Varra,” Orestis clarified, since the idiot was insisting on playing dumb. “Not even you would invest that much effort into something just to annoy me.”
“Is there a rule that says I can’t do both?” he asked, which was tantamount to admitting that he did, in fact, have another motive.
“And? What’s the real reason?”
“Don’t you mean the other reason?” Maxim asked with an annoying smile.
Now he is just deliberately dragging this out, Orestis thought, giving the idiot a long, flat look.
Maxim just smiled wider.
Well, if that’s how he’s going to be…
Orestis raised his hand, slowly constructing a curse framework—stroke by deliberate stroke. And judging by how quickly the idiot’s smile slipped, he also recognised the sigil patterns.
“Hey, hey. Calm down,” Maxim said quickly, raising his hands. “Honestly. Some people just can’t take a joke.”
“What’s that?” Eirene asked, examining the spell.
“A curse most vile! Truly, it’s the sort of wicked sorcery one would expect from a minion of the Dread Necromancer,” the idiot exclaimed, apparently unwilling to drop the theatrics despite Varra’s absence.
Eirene let out a quiet snort of amusement. Orestis whipped his head towards her at the unexpected betrayal.
She rolled her eyes at him. “It was funny. But really. What is that?” she asked, pointing at the sigils he was still holding in place. “It looks similar to an illusion spell, but also not.”
“It’s similar because, just like an illusion, this also affects the senses,” Orestis explained. “But only the sense of smell, in the case of this particular spell.”
He channelled a bit of power to make part of the sigils glow. “These parts will make him believe he is smelling the foulest of odours.”
“As I said; a curse most vile,” Maxim remarked.
“Still perfect for you,” Orestis retorted before dispersing the sigils.
Eirene shook her head with exasperation. “Really… Stop being silly, the both of you.” She turned to Maxim. “Although I’m also curious why you were indulging her eccentricities.”
Maxim smiled and said, “After meeting Varra in person, you know what the first impression I got was?”
Orestis scoffed. “That she’s like a child playing at villainy?”
The odd part is how she never grew out of it despite centuries passing.
“That too,” Maxim conceded. “But apart from that? I got the impression she was lonely.”
Eirene, always quicker on the uptake than Orestis had ever been, said, “You think she turned out the way she did, historically—in the future, I mean—is because she had no friends?”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Maxim replied. “But one thing I am sure of is that she isn’t evil—despite her frequent claims to the contrary.”
“I don’t think morality factors into her decisions much,” Eirene replied. “It’s like she doesn’t really care about being good or evil—like she just wants to play and have fun.”
Maxim nodded. “Interesting, isn’t it? Especially when we consider how clearly the Aelia half leans towards ‘good’ in the traditional sense.”
“Aelia has a sense of duty and a desire to help people.” Eirene said, reflecting on the impressions she got from the woman. “But she also has a pragmatic side. Or she wouldn’t have agreed to go along with the plan to harvest life force.”
“Right. But going back to the main point: why I played along.” Maxim tilted his head. “Varra, in the original timeline, spent centuries alone. And she likely occupied her time with whatever drew her interest—one of which just happened to be attaining fame as the world’s greatest evil lich.
“But I believe that, underneath it all, she has a much simpler motivation. I think she just wants to be acknowledged. For the world to know she existed, and to be remembered.”
Orestis frowned. There was an uncomfortable amount of sense in what Maxim had said.
If you think about how she came to be—half of Aelia’s soul placed inside an empty vessel…
Even if Varra was doing it subconsciously, wanting to be recognised as an individual existence of her own would explain much of her behaviour.
Put in that context, Maxim’s actions took on a different meaning. Rather than let her seek proof of her own existence from the world at large, he was trying to give it to her directly. And maybe expecting Orestis to do the same.
“So is that what this is?” Orestis asked. “You intend to use it to stop the Deathless Calamity from ever existing?”
Maxim lightly said, “Not all problems are nails, and not all solutions need to be hammers. By changing who she is now, I ensure that she never becomes the Deathless Calamity. As for who Varra will become in the future—that remains to be seen.” He shrugged. “I’m choosing to be optimistic.”
It was an interesting perspective. The sort of outlook one would only develop through repeatedly rewriting history.
“Have you done this kind of thing a lot?” Eirene asked, following the same line of thought.
“Changing the outcome after travelling to the past?” Maxim chuckled. “That’s practically my specialty. Well—it used to be, before the accident.”
Maxim turned to give a pointed look at Orestis. The implication that he wanted the ability back was impossible to miss.
“Working on it,” Orestis replied. “Though don’t expect progress soon. Until that body of hers is finished, Varra’s full attention is a lost cause.”
Which reminds me. Now that I don’t need to hide my association with her—
“You should join us once that’s done. The link between us might reveal new information about that undying curse as well.”
“I intend to,” Maxim replied. “I also want to recover the ability to feel things as soon as possible.”
It was interesting that he did not mention getting rid of the curse. It was very likely that Maxim was also similar to Aelia, in that he was also drawn to the idea of living forever.
Idiots, the both of them.
***
Right after they gated back to Lyse’s temple, Eirene saw Orestis pause.
Then, he turned to her and said, “You go on ahead. Lyse wants to meet me at the sanctum.”
“Looks like someone’s about to get lectured,” Maxim snickered.
“I suppose. Might as well get it over with,” Orestis replied while making a face.
Eirene noted that he didn’t seem too bothered by the idea of a goddess expressing her displeasure to him about colluding with a necromancer. At least, that’s what Eirene assumed the lecture would be about.
Orestis turned to her and said, “I’ll see you at home.”
Eirene nodded, and he walked off into the temple looking for all the world like he was going to collect a package rather than receive divine criticism. It was difficult to decide whether that was admirable or deeply concerning.
Probably neither. It was far more likely that his centuries of immortality had skewed his frame of reference.
Speaking of perspective, Eirene glanced at Maxim. His thinking was not normal either. Faced with someone destined to become a calamity, most people would have focused on eliminating the threat.
Maxim had looked at a future lich responsible for countless deaths and concluded that she was lonely. That Varra simply wanted someone to care she existed.
What was more absurd was how convincing the theory was, as well as how good a chance his solution had of succeeding.
And because of that, there was another pattern that she could not help but notice.
“That thing with Varra,” she said to Maxim. “You’re trying to do something similar with Orestis too.”
He smiled. “That obvious?”
“You were very blatant in trying to mediate between me and Orestis when I was upset with him,” she pointed out. He had also actively helped to fix the misunderstanding between Orestis and Varra.
It was clear that Maxim was trying, in his own way, to push Orestis towards building and maintaining new relationships. She would not deny that it was good for Orestis, but she did not really understand the reason.
Yes, he was dangerous. And Eirene still remembered that conversation after Orestis received Lyse’s Blessing. She also remembered how Maxim referred to Varra as being ‘almost as bad as Orestis’. That was very telling. It meant that—at least in Maxim’s opinion—Orestis was the greater threat between the two.
But there was a problem with that logic. It assumed that Orestis was still the same as before. He wasn’t.
“This cannot be about preventing the rise of another calamity like Varra,” she said. “Orestis is no longer immortal. He even avoids anything that might extend his lifespan. As it is, he won’t live long enough to be the threat you were familiar with.”
Maxim’s smile turned wry. “It was never the curse that made him dangerous. It was his desire to end his own existence—and the measures he was willing to take in order to achieve it.”
Before Eirene could respond, he said, “Consider this: right now, he is so calm because he has people he cares about. His parents. You. Maybe even Goddess Eleuthera.” He huffed a laugh at that last one.
Eirene found herself smiling too. Somehow, the goddess had slipped past Orestis’s guard without seeming to even try. Somewhere over the past few months, he’d stopped grimacing every time her name came up. He would never admit it, but Eirene could tell that he had become quite fond of Eleuthera—never mind how odd it was for a mortal to view a god like that. Still, that was Orestis; nothing was ever conventional around him.
Then, Maxim’s expression turned solemn. “But what happens when he loses them? When he dies and regresses, they will be gone. Yes, they will still be alive, but they will not remember. From his perspective, they might as well have died.”
Eirene drew a breath. This was something she had thought about before. It worried her, the concept of losing who she was—to forget who she would be. But then again, she would not remember anything at that point anyway, so perhaps it was not that important in the grand scheme of things.
What concerned her more was Orestis, who would remember—and who would mourn such a loss.
She believed she had a solution for it, and she was working towards that goal. But it was not a true resolution to the problem; merely a temporary one.
Still, precisely because she’d put a lot of time into this, she could immediately say, “He wouldn’t lose it all; he’d still have his parents.”
Maxim didn’t reply. He merely raised his eyebrows and silently regarded her.
“But it won’t be enough,” she said quietly, voicing the conclusion he had left unspoken.
“No. And even his relationship with his parents will start to fray after enough regressions. A problem with repetition is that everything will start to feel routine at some point.”
And routine would take away any true feelings of authenticity. She could imagine how, at that point, Orestis himself would feel that anything he did was trying to artificially induce emotions from his parents. That was the kind of thing that would lead to resentment—against himself, and his parents. Which just meant that they needed to make sure it never got to that point.
“This is just going in circles now,” Eirene said. “You don’t want him to regress; I don’t want him to die. We’re both working to make him want to live more than he wants to die. That still does not answer my initial question: why do you still think he is a threat?”
“I’m getting there,” he said lightly. “There was one loop where I asked him why he was training heroes. He told me it was because he had run out of all other ideas—except for two. He was just passing time waiting for a planetary alignment. That was when he could test the second-to-last option—a spell he never got to test during the previous alignment some two hundred years prior.”
Eirene frowned and opened her mouth to ask a few questions. But Maxim held up a finger, asking her to wait.
“He said he never held that much hope for a hero killing him—but there was a ‘non-zero chance of it working’. So, he was simply making the most efficient use of his time until the planetary alignment.”
His voice stayed light, but there was a deliberate weight to his words as he continued. “And if even that spell failed… well. He told me destroying the world would be pointless since he could survive in space. Which was why his last option was to destroy reality itself. To ensure the curse would have nothing left to anchor itself to.”
Eirene felt a chill settle in her chest. “Is something like that even possible?”
Maxim shrugged. “Who knows? With anyone else, I’d say it was impossible. But Orestis has been known to do the impossible. And some things cannot be repaired once broken. Hoping that regression can restore reality is not a gamble I’m willing to take.”
That was… not something she was willing to gamble on either.
Still, it wasn’t as though anything had changed. The answer remained the same as before: give Orestis reasons to stay attached to this life. That would extend the time they all would have—either to find a way to resolve the curse, or maybe even switch it back again with Maxim.
As long as Orestis did not regress, as long as he had people to care for, he would not do something drastic.
She gave one last nod to Maxim before teleporting back home.
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