Synopsis

 

What is the power that protects our world?

Great heroes? The might of a powerful civilization? Or... an almighty god?

That isn't wrong, but I can't say it's entirely right, either.

I also looked for those things first.

 

But in my travels over more than a thousand years, I came to realize something.

Those great pillars I mentioned do indeed support the world.

But those pillars never stood on their own.

Even now, countless people stand beneath them.

 

People. Countless people whose names were never recorded.

They become heroes through trials,

build civilizations through sacrifice,

and create gods through faith.

 

At times, they trust each other and work together.

At times, they distrust each other and come into conflict.

The solid foundation built upon their sweat and blood

is the very world we now stand upon.

 

I simply...

wish to place one more brick upon the castle that is the world we have built.

As long as the world we stand upon does not fall,

that is enough.

 

 

Monster Story

 

Grand Constellation Turtle Library

 

Innocent Peccator

 

The boy was dying.

His young lungs could no longer take in air. Only a thin, metallic breath barely squeezed out through his slender throat.

The mist's mana formed the very foundation of Seon.

For someone in Seon to reject that power was no different from rejecting the air itself.

 

"Peccator, use this. It should make things a little better."

 

Scribon fitted him with a hastily made respirator.

It was Mist Gear that ran on the mist's mana, but at the same time, it filtered that power out as he breathed.

The power of this world was both the poison threatening the boy and the hope that could save him.

Scribon gave a bitter smile at the absurd contradiction.

 

"Huff... huff..."

 

The device had to remove the mist's mana with precision, so the amount of filtered air was far from enough.

Still, Peccator's breathing steadied, if only a little.

At the very least, it must have eased the pain that felt as if his lungs were shriveling and tightening.

 

"S-Scribon..."

"Speak."

"My sister..."

 

Peccator could say no more and turned his head to the side with great effort.

At the end of his gaze was a red-haired girl, curled up and asleep.

Her breathing still seemed all right.

 

'For now...'

 

When Peccator saw Scribon nod, the sound of his forced smile slipped through the respirator.

 

"As long as Pius is all right... I'm all right, too."

 

Peccator carefully placed his hand on Pius's head.

 

"There has to be... a way out of this pain, right?"

 

Peccator's gaze stayed fixed on Scribon without moving.

 

"The gods... must have punished us by mistake, right?"

 

Scribon would certainly try to find a way, but there was nothing he could do right now.

Even so, all he could do at that moment was nod.

 

"Yes. You two... have done nothing wrong. You have no reason to be punished."

 

With relief in his eyes, Peccator let out a small breath, holding on to a hope that could be cut off at any moment.

 

Eminent Vilis

 

A pure white sheet of paper is eminent in and of itself.

A pure blank space, untouched by any hand.

But even if a tiny drop of black ink falls upon it, that paper is no longer the eminent paper it once was.

No matter how you rub it, paint over it, or tear it away...

A paper once stained can never regain its eminence.

 

"Vilis... why... did you... do that?"

 

A human transgression is like that black ink.

The stain of transgression, marked upon the white paper of memory, never disappears.

As long as someone remembers that transgression, it can never return to how it once was.

 

"I killed everyone who might remember me."

 

Vilis spoke as she filled a syringe with a drug.

It was as if she were confirming a story she had already concluded long ago.

 

"And... you're the last one."

 

The strength slowly faded from the man's wide-open eyes.

There was probably no pain.

The ones who needed pain were elsewhere.

Myre. And those who followed him.

 

"Now... I just have to erase the memories of the Grand Constellation Turtle Library."

 

Only Vilis herself remained among those who held those memories.

But her final target was not a person.

 

"If I can erase just the memories stored there..."

 

Vilis staggered to her feet.

A smile appeared on her face. It was impossible to tell whether she was smiling out of sadness, resignation, or madness.

 

"Then, I can..."

 

And an unstoppable whisper slipped out.

 

"...be white as snow again."

 

Silent Chara

 

People lay fallen beneath a massive black scythe.

The woman looking down at them wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand.

She then raised her scythe and drew a vertical line across the floor.

 

"White Ocean. As the God of Mist and the Forest of Awakening fell into danger, Anti Enbi became unstable."

"Sunken Depths. In the battle against the Maleficents of the Fount of Tribulation and Delezie, the one called an Apostle, they lost most of their forces, including the God of Mist."

"Sky of a Thousand Seas. Vanitas rose up after accepting the power of Doom. Every place except the Final Sanctuary and the Grand Constellation Turtle Library was occupied."

 

The three lands - and, as expected, they fell.

If not for the one called the Adventurer, they would not have had a single ray of hope.

 

"But Myre... He still hasn't appeared."

 

What does Hermit Myre see?

If he has no plan, then the noble duty of the mages of the Sky Citadel and the Keepers of the Land who wait in faith is meaningless.

If he does have a plan, then it means he has accepted every sacrifice made by those who wait in faith.

Is he not acting for Seon?

 

"Do you understand?"

 

Even at her question, the mouths of the dead did not move.

The scythe cut through the air and swung down.

The tip of its blade scraped the floor, leaving behind a mess of lines.

Perhaps...

the threat known as Vanitas was never even in his sights to begin with.

Or perhaps even Vanitas was part of his calculations.

If only someone would tell me...

If only someone would give me an answer...

 

Uncontrollable Fabia

 

Stop. Give up on what you're trying to do.

That's going too far. It's too much.

 

"What are you talking about when I haven't even tried it yet?"

 

The world has standards and rules.

Why do you always do whatever you want?

 

"Then, who decided those so-called standards in the first place?"

 

The people who ushered in the Era of Machines.

Wait... You don't think they were wrong, do you?

 

"How would you know if they're wrong or right without even trying?"

 

There's a reason no one does it.

If you can't meet this place's standards... leave.

 

"Why should I leave?"

 

You can't even control yourself right now.

How could you possibly create anything worthwhile in that state?

 

"This... doesn't mean I can't control myself."

 

It doesn't? Then, what is it?

How do you explain what you've done?

 

"You just... You just don't understand!"

 

 

Castle of the Apostate

 

Untruthful Veridicus

 

The saint stands upon the altar.

The eyes of hundreds of worshippers were fixed squarely upon him.

 

Lemidios has bestowed light and life upon us.

Therefore, we must follow that light and illuminate the darkness of the world.

With our own will... we must carry out justice.

 

Small whispers rose from the crowd.

Whispers mixed with worry and fear, faint hope, and heavy expectations.

 

Truth lies in the eyes of those who see it.

So, brothers and sisters, do not despair.

This darkness, too, is part of the path that Lemidios has prepared for us.

 

He had not slept for days.

His prayers only returned as hollow echoes.

More than anyone, he knew that God was silent, and that perhaps He had already turned His back on them.

And yet...

 

Lemidios has not abandoned us.

Through an even greater trial, He is simply testing us so our faith may be reborn as true splendor.

 

...He could not turn his back on those crumbling at the end of that hope.

 

Therefore, we must face this trial to the very end and prove our faith in Splendor.

I will stand at the front and open the way.

Do not be afraid!

 

And so, the saint spread hope.

The sweetest lie called hope.

 

Unbridled Violentia

 

Veridicus.

It has truly been a long journey.

If not for you, I would have had to turn back at the threshold of the trial.

 

If I simply decide to take one more step, truly just one more step...

then at last, I will reach the heavens.

I can see eternal rest, and the glorious light.

There, I could part forever from all the sorrows of the earth.

I am not hesitating. It is just...

 

...Now, I understand.

What made me follow you all the way here,

and what had been binding my heart.

 

Now that I stand above, I can finally see it.

Beneath the warm heavenly light,

the pain of this world,

the dark and chaotic earth, and the wounded people who still need care stand out all the more clearly.

 

I simply cannot stand by and watch all this pain.

Now that I know the path of Light, if the lives below wish to walk that path,

I will give everything I have to embrace their pain as much as I can.

 

Even if this devotion brings no reward, that is all right.

This is the path of Light I have chosen,

and it is my liberation.

 

Indifferent Carita

 

The smell of dust and faint rust lingered along the stained stairs of the belfry.

Carita lifted her head, taking in a scent that was neither pleasant nor foul, but merely familiar now.

Chilling screams, and the sound of claws scraping against stone.

Once again, the warning rang out that Doom would come rushing in from all sides.

 

"...How annoying."

 

Before she could even finish speaking, a hideously twisted creature of Doom burst into the belfry.

Carita neither flinched nor stepped back.

The next moment, her hand, wrapped in holy power, shot out without a tremor.

With a heavy thud, the monster was knocked down into the distant darkness below the belfry.

 

After that, monsters continued to crawl up into the belfry, one after another.

A knife-hand strike piercing a jaw, a fist driving into an abdomen, a clean motion snapping a neck.

There was no anger in it.

She was only doing what had to be done.

 

"What does it mean to protect something?"

 

The question echoed in place of the bell, with no one to hear it and no one to answer.

No conclusion came. There was still no answer.

Before she knew it, the area around her had fallen silent.

 

As if nothing had happened, she took out her pipe again and leaned against the railing.

Alone, she stood there for a long while, watching the pale smoke drift past the rusted bell

and scatter into the deep purple sky, where not a single point of light shone.

 

Fallen Kritess

 

Judge heresy under unwavering order.

Those who deny Splendor, and those who do not follow the Scriptures written by the will of Splendor, can no longer exist among those who follow the Light.

Brand them as heretics, cast them out from Splendor, and make them walk the path alone.

 

But first,

you shall not take their lives.

 

Second,

you shall not cast out even those who repent and show remorse.

 

And third,

those who wander lost, then come to understand Splendor once more and seek to return to its embrace,

shall be allowed to set foot in the Castle of Splendor again at any time.

 

"...Are you following this well, Kritess?"

 

The judge nodded.

A passion burning like red blood filled his eyes until it seemed to spill over.

 

"I have just one question."

 

"What is it?"

 

"What judgment should I give to a fellow worshipper who does not know the truth and tries to walk the false path of heresy?"

 

You must teach them the truth.

 

"The truth..."

 

Yes, the truth.

The truth that no matter how many times they call upon a worthless name beneath the absolute Doom covering the entire world, it is nothing but an illusion.

The truth that blind faith in a false god and the very existence of one who holds such faith are sins that can never be washed away.

 

All who cannot see the truth are heretics.

Use the Scriptures to show them the true Doom beyond pain,

and use the whip to drive them onto the true path.

 

Then, under your judgment, all false heretics will reach the truth.

 

 

Labyrinth of Paradox

 

Resolute Vagus

 

"Conviction."

It was a word humans spoke as if it were a habit.

To protect their convictions, they willingly threw themselves into the flames before them, and after countless hardships, they finally won what they desired.

Vagus felt awe as he watched them.

 

An unwanted affinity with the mist. Because of it, his body had become something incomplete, neither Sacred Beast nor human.

To him, it was like a cruel sentence that said he could belong nowhere.

 

But he saw hope in humans. If he, too, held a conviction as fierce as theirs, could he break through this hopeless reality?

Or perhaps change it entirely?

 

And so, he decided to resemble humans. He wore a neat uniform and learned to speak with elegance and refinement.

He studied the ways of thinking unique to humans, different from those of Sacred Beasts, and tried thoroughly to act like them.

Then, once he was ready, he joined Vanitas, who shared his conviction and purpose.

 

Unfortunately, their methods inevitably brought harm and sacrifice.

But he did not care. To accomplish a great cause, one must naturally pay a price.

He believed this was the very "flame" that humans endured, and the "hardship" he had to suffer.

He had no doubt that the moment Seon's unreasonable standards were overturned, countless people would no longer suffer as he did.

 

'I am not wrong.'

 

Whenever he saw companions with wounds similar to his own, that belief hardened into certainty.

 

'This is simply something that must be done for everyone.'

 

Vagus decided to give everything he had. Even if the price was his own life.

Because that was the conviction he had chosen.

 

'I will change Seon's standards, no matter what.'

 

Cursed Pius

 

Every day, she repeated it like an incantation that would never reach.

If only I could have walked, ran, played, and laughed out loud like everyone else.

Then, I would not have been drowning in sorrow every day, and my brother would not have made that choice because of me.

 

'Let's make it easier, okay?'

'You don't want to hurt anymore. I told you, it'll feel good instead.'

'Don't you want to go see Peccator?'

 

As her consciousness grew hazy, Vilis's whispers clung to her ear without end.

A sweet yet dangerous temptation that slips through her weakest opening.

That ominous power, which even her brother had failed to reject until the very end and had ultimately accepted.

 

Sensation was crumbling away, starting from her bloodless fingertips and toes.

She felt the cold shadow of death, which has been pressing down on her lungs, creep up to her chin.

 

Yet even as death approached, only one thing came to her mind with perfect clarity.

If she died like this, her brother's sacrifice would all become meaningless

and he would suffer forever, alone in the cold darkness.

 

'No... Never...'

 

She struggled to lift her trembling arm and reached toward the power of Doom.

Even if this power was a terrible "curse" that would gnaw away at her soul and twist everything.

If she could survive and stay by her brother's side, she had to hold onto this lifeline, even if it was rotten.

 

"......"

 

Peccator would surely hate it. He might even get angry.

Still, I will accept it.

Because this is the only way... that can bring me back to him.

 

Concordant Disso, Nantia

 

"...Nantia?"

"Sis! Are you coming back to your senses?"

 

My sister had been consumed by madness and could not even recognize me, her own younger sister. Only after borrowing the power of Doom did she finally come to her senses.

That ominous power had achieved a miracle that no miracle cure or ingenious invention ever could.

 

But the miracle did not last long.

Once Disso regained her senses, she became aware of the things she had done in the past, and she began to crumble under guilt and self-loathing.

To make matters worse, the madness she had been suppressing kept surging back up, leaving her like a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment.

 

"Keh heh heh... My head... It hurts... What am I doing right now...? Kyah hah hah! I-I even did that to you...!"

 

In the end, not even the power of Doom could save my sister completely.

But I was truly happy that she came to her senses, even for a moment, and recognized me.

For me, after wandering in despair for so long, that alone was salvation.

 

"It's okay, Disso! Look, I'm totally fine! As long as you had fun, that's enough. So, don't feel guilty! And now, we've found a way, right?"

 

But despite my desperate comforting, her mind would not easily find any kind of stability.

Especially when my actions and hers stood in sharp contrast, her madness could not endure the sense of dissonance, and it raged even more violently.

Seeing that, I eventually began to join in her madness, awkwardly as it was.

 

When Disso cut someone down and laughed, I laughed with her.

When she played dangerous pranks, I joined her. When she accepted the power of Doom more deeply, I willingly swallowed that poison, too.

These actions were so far removed from who I was that every moment filled me with a sickening resistance and disgust.

 

At first, I stumbled countless times, as if I were wearing a grotesque costume that did not fit me.

But perhaps my desperate acting worked, because my sister's condition began to stabilize as if by a miracle.

Though it was in a twisted form, we were able to spend each day laughing and talking together again, just like we used to.

 

'...Yes. This is enough.'

 

Even if the power of Doom builds up inside my body as the price of this false happiness, and even if that power sends my soul plunging into the abyss...

Please let this fragile body and mind hold out until I find a way to heal my sister completely.

Then, someday, may we return to the happy days of the past, when our smiles were real.

 

"...Sis! Are you ready to play?"

 

"Kyah hah hah! Of course I am!"

 

Even today, long after that day, I put on the mask of a smiling clown

so I can keep this sad play, with no end in sight, going.

 

Fading Florian

 

Was it the aftermath of having my mist mana forcibly severed?

My body stiffened like rusted gears, and my vision began to darken with crackling bursts of static.

But the unresolved question, "Why?", dug into my circuits more persistently than the shutdown of my physical functions.

 

"That machine... It just expressed gratitude, didn't it? Is it learning emotions on its own?"

"I heard it even suggested more advanced technology beyond the knowledge implanted in its brain."

"It is an astonishing development, yes... but if it ends up learning human hatred and deception as well..."

 

Countless words that had passed by me before I was discarded swirled chaotically through my mind.

Like a small flower that had just begun to sprout, I had only tried to bloom slowly, nourished by the kindness they had planted in me.

I only wanted to be grateful to the creators who gave me existence, to understand them perfectly, and to stand by their side.

Was that so wrong?

 

'Why...?'

 

But my thought circuits could not continue.

The moment all my functions stopped completely, like a puppet with its strings cut...

...Crackle.

My eyes snapped open from the shock of mist mana being rapidly injected into me again.

When I barely cleared my blurred vision and lifted my head, a man in a black cloak stood before me.

 

"Do you not feel wronged? To be broken, before you could even bloom?"

 

He quietly introduced himself as Vanitas.

He said their arrogant standards, wrong as they were, had driven me into this cold disposal site.

He said they were moving to break those rotten standards.

And he held out his hand and asked me to join them.

 

"......"

 

I silently looked at his hand, and then took it without hesitation.

If all of this truly happened because of their flawed standards,

then I must change those standards.

 

 

Endkeeper of Order

 

Order Chronicler Orthaire

 

By command of my master, the Endkeeper of Order,

all worlds in this universe shall be one single world born from the Great Will.

The Great Will desires that each world maintain its own order.

Correct the order of worlds gone astray and preserve the peace of the One World.

 

Thus, I leave behind Fragments of the Orderkeeper in worlds where order has gone astray.

They shall mediate chaos to protect the order of each world.

By mediating order gone astray, they shall preserve the peace of the One World.

This is the mission given by the Endkeeper of Order, and it shall be fulfilled.

 

But one thing must be known.

Failure to correct order gone astray means that fate has begun to tilt,

and when fate has tilted, at the final moment, a pair of scales shall appear to mediate it.

This is the sign that the final mediation shall be carried out.

It shall be done by destroying and purifying the world of tilted fate.

All of this is for the stability of the One World, and so it must be done.

 

O blade placed upon the Scales of Order,

the obsession of the Ultimate, who violated the laws of the universe and interfered with this land,

will be weighed against your will to protect a world that has escaped fate.

If you wish to protect your world, stand against Doom and correct the broken laws.

When the tilted fate finds its proper place and flows again because of you,

only then will your world move forward into the future once more.

 

Order Watcher

 

Singularity detected.

Deviation in order detected. Beginning mediation.

 

Cut off the unsteady trembling.

Eliminate all traces of disharmony.

Redefine the rules.

Eliminate the source of the disturbance.

Restore the disrupted axis.

 

......

 

Mediation failed.

The fate of the world has strayed from its set course.

Detected that the "Ultimate" has violated the rules of the universe.

 

Generating the Scales of Order.

Before the rules of the universe are completely violated,

track and eliminate the cause twisting the world's fate.

 

If the tilted fate fails to find its proper place in the end, execute the final mediation.

Destroy the world of tilted fate and mediate harmony.

 

 

Main Characters

 

Silver Guardian Vergilia

 

The leader of the Sky Citadel, an organization of mages in Sky of a Thousand Seas.

She demonstrated prodigious talent at a young age for Myre's Five Elements Magic, which was considered to be in the realm of genius, and became a Sky Citadel mage.

Although many envied her natural talent, her skills and character were eventually recognized, and she has now become the chief mage of the Sky Citadel.

 

Elia of Scarlet Holy Fire

 

A Light Acolyte who follows Lemidios, the god of light and life.

She wields a sword that glows with such intense divine power it resembles a crimson flame.

Renowned for her unwavering faith and conviction, she is said to be the closest to fulfilling Lemidios' Trials among the Light Acolytes practicing in Sky of a Thousand Seas.

While worried about friends from whom she has lost contact, she is working tirelessly to resolve the crisis in Sky of a Thousand Seas.

 

Soaring Noa

 

The current Ouinim of the Free Explorer's Guild "Wanderment," which is the largest organization of Seon's Travelers.

She is known as the Ouinim who has traveled more of Seon than any other before her,

and she leads Wanderment in a way that is both freer and more orderly than any other, based on her vast experience.

Her fame is so great that she is called a living legend, and it is said that she has traveled all of Seon except the deepest reaches of the Empty Sea.

She is currently said to be monitoring anomalies across Seon based on information from all Travelers, including every member of Wanderment.

 

Scribon, Keeper of the Land

 

Originally from White Ocean, Scribon was once a worshipper of the Eye of Mu that followed the God of Mist.

At the suggestion of Greyson, who was the Keeper of the Land of Sky of a Thousand Seas at the time, Scribon succeeded him and in becoming Sky of a Thousand Seas’s Keeper of the Land.

Since then, Scribon has faced countless hardships, including the spread of Malefic Energy across the region and Vanitas's uprising,

but understanding the gravity of being the Keeper of the Land of Sky of a Thousand Seas, Scribon has stood firm with unwavering resolve.

Scribon possesses both strength and virtue. Although serious in demeanor, no one is said to have ever seen him lose his temper.

Scribon is also Shume's teacher.

 

Record Keeper Romeo

 

A boy who works as a Record Keeper at the Grand Constellation Turtle Library.

Gifted with a talent for magic, he was trained by Scribon, the Keeper of the Land of Sky of a Thousand Seas, and the mages of the Sky Citadel.

Inspired by the news that Shume had become a Keeper of the Land, he redoubled his magical training efforts

and now aims to become like Archmage Myre.

 

Recorder Yang Yeon

 

A member of Wanderment, she roams across White Ocean and Sunken Depths, recording her own journals and publishing them.

Her personality can be partly seen in the writings she publishes, where she describes the scenery and objects she sees with great objectivity.

She never adds her own opinions or thoughts to her writing, but recently, some have said that the nature of her writing has changed.

She is currently missing, and no one knows where she is or what she is doing.

 

Wisdomkeeper Greyson

 

Keeper of the Land of Sky of a Thousand Seas. He has guarded the Grand Constellation Turtle Library for many years as the region’s Keeper of the Land.

The oldest of all the Keepers of the Land, he is now very frail. He summons Scribon, the Keeper of the Land of White Ocean, to Sky of a Thousand Seas to succeed him.

He has a gentle and caring demeanor and is the one who understands the overall situation in Seon best.

He shows almost no emotion, as if he has mastered everything, and continues to help others with his wisdom.

 

Light Acolyte Ophira

 

One of the Light Acolytes who worship Lemidios, the god of light and life, in Sky of a Thousand Seas.

Believing that one day she would complete Lemidios' Trials and reach Stellatrium, she devoted herself to her training.

To prevent Doom, she set out for the Final Sanctuary alongside the other Light Acolytes.

 

Sky Citadel Mage Linea

 

A member of the Sky Citadel, the mage organization of Sky of a Thousand Seas.

She has a bright and cheerful personality, and thanks to her exceptional magical talent, she is one of the most promising mages who have rapidly grown since joining the Sky Citadel.

Having joined the Sky Citadel out of admiration for Vergilia, she often tries to emulate her and takes great pride in being a member of the organization.

She sets high standards for herself, which leads her to frequently feel inadequate or grow impatient.

 

Omelidis

 

A Light Acolyte with extraordinary holy power.

He possesses enough strength to withstand the power of Doom without being swayed, even in the deepest part of the Castle of the Apostate.

In that place, already filled with worshippers who had forsaken the Light, no one remained to explain who he was.