“Amazing…”
At the very top of the pyramid temple, Siduri stared in astonishment as the armored force—and the various mechanisms—relentlessly harvested those disgusting monsters.
“Siduri can use them too,” Ophis said. “You just passed out too early to notice.”
That sudden bluntness made Siduri’s mouth twitch.
Beside her, Ophis held a writhing, clawing monster in one hand. It thrashed wildly, yet couldn’t pierce the thin film of magical energy around Ophis’s body. Ophis was about to examine it—when the creature abruptly collapsed, turning into black sludge.
After a third failed attempt, Ophis casually incinerated the sludge with magical energy as it tried to corrode her, then shook her head. She tipped her chin up, eyes lifting to the sky.
A white horse was galloping through the air, circling outside Uruk’s walls as if unsure whether to enter.
Ophis nodded, freshly reminded just how broken that so-called “intuition” skill was in reality, and temporarily halted the city’s anti-air mechanisms… Wait. Why was she emphasizing “in reality”?
Sensing the danger had lifted, the white horse shot forward at speed and dropped down beside Ophis and the others.
“King Ophis, there’s information regarding Teacher Merlin’s final message that we need to report to you.”
Lily gave Ophis a brief, serious greeting, then went straight to the point.
…
“I see. Merlin has died?”
After hearing Lily out, Ophis looked thoughtful.
Merlin’s true nature was an incubus; killing him in reality was almost impossible. But in a dream, that was another matter entirely.
To die in a dream… for him, that was probably dying where he belonged.
So then—when dealing with Great Red, could that method work too?
Having judged the death of the Servant Merlin—who’d just opened a clear path for her—as “valuable,” Ophis tossed the matter aside and turned to what mattered more.
“Evil of Humanity?”
“That’s what Teacher Merlin said,” Lily replied. “Do you know anything?”
Ophis nodded.
She had no idea what Evil of Humanity actually was, but if it could kill Merlin inside a dream, then it was unquestionably powerful.
Still—she might not know, but there was someone living inside her sea of consciousness who seemed to know everything…
[In each world, “Evil of Humanity” can mean different things, but it’s usually something dangerous… which is obvious. That danger is typically aimed at humans, so it won’t affect you much. But by the same logic, Evil of Humanity is either something only humans can kill, or something that can’t be killed as long as humans still exist—so you’re also kind of stuck. That’s probably why your intuition says you can’t directly fight Tiamat, yeah?]
After Ophis called, Inori’s lazy voice surfaced again for the first time in a while.
[As for this world’s Evil of Humanity… I’ll just send the specifics straight into your head. This is material I read from Fate. You can look it over yourself—can’t dump too much at once, after all.]
Ignoring that last baffling remark, Ophis relayed the information word for word to Lily.
“Evil abandoned by humanity…?”
Lily’s brows knit.
“Nothing is beyond control.”
Ophis shook her head.
“Is your Master at the Northern Wall?”
A flash of embarrassment crossed Lily’s face.
Seeing it, Ophis tilted her head.
“Then on the road to Uruk?”
“…”
The awkwardness on Lily’s face deepened.
She was still striving to become a flawless knight, and she wasn’t yet able to lie naturally, so she could only stand there in silence.
Ophis frowned slightly.
“Did they go south?”
Lily could only nod.
Ophis’s frown deepened.
Chaldea being held at the Northern Wall was the ideal outcome. Forcing their way back to Uruk was also within expectations. But suddenly running south—what was that supposed to be? They shouldn’t even know what the situation was right now…
Then, abruptly, Ophis thought of the Servant she paid the least attention to.
Her role was simply support and healing. Ophis, who didn’t understand those things well, hadn’t been able to give her many instructions—so she’d rarely looked too closely at the girl who worked quietly on her own.
If it was her… it wasn’t impossible she’d led Ritsuka and the others there.
She tossed aside the speculation—useless for the present—and looked at Lily.
“Take me there.”
…
Medea’s expression was terrible.
Behind her, everyone from Chaldea—including the goddess—wore storm clouds on their faces.
On the ground before them, a naked woman lay on her side, utterly still. There was no sign of life; she was undeniably dead.
But if they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes, it would’ve been hard to believe that only minutes ago, this woman had been one of those disgusting monsters—screaming as it hurled itself at them in a suicidal assault.
“My feeling was right,” Medea said with her eyes closed. “And it’s something deeply tragic for all of us.”
“From what I observed, a very small portion of the monsters still retain fragments of their past consciousness. But my Noble Phantasm can’t restore them to life—there are two likely reasons. One: in essence, they are already dead, and my Noble Phantasm can’t reverse life and death. Two…” Medea’s voice tightened. “…the power that transformed them is far stronger than my Noble Phantasm.”
“Could it be that ‘Evil of Humanity’?” Ritsuka asked, worry flickering in her eyes.
Beside them, Quetzal looked over what had once been a living, breathing city—where countless monsters were now toying with human lives.
“Ur is almost a dead city. Eridu will be worse, as expected… wouldn’t you say so, weapon hiding over there?”
Kingu stepped out of the trees.
Only then did the group notice how bad Kingu’s condition was.
The once-neat white robe hung in tatters, and violet flame would burst out in sudden chains—each flare making pain flash across the girl’s face.
Even more horrifying was the hollow at Kingu’s chest, where a heart should have been.
“What you’re seeking is by the coast,” Kingu said flatly, ignoring how instantly everyone tensed.
“What we’re seeking… what are you talking about? And why should we believe you?” Mash asked, shield raised in front of her, still wary.
“Believe it or don’t. It’s up to you.”
Kingu’s voice remained even. Their gaze fixed on Ritsuka, and everyone else’s attention followed—centering on Chaldea’s Master.
“Go.”
Ritsuka decided almost without hesitation.
Their intuition had saved them countless times. This time, too, they chose to trust it.
Then Ritsuka looked back at Kingu, hesitation flickering across their face.
“Put away that pointless sentiment. If you’re going, then leave. Now.”
“…Got it. Take care of yourself.”
In the end, Ritsuka let out a quiet sigh, turned, and led the others away.
Watching Ritsuka go, Kingu suddenly laughed softly.
Sensing those things rapidly closing in, Kingu shook their head and—heading in the opposite direction from Ritsuka—quickened their pace and left the area.
—
This is a fan translation of 无限龙神找不回寂静 by 呆毛神 rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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