3. If There's No Constellation, Just Make One (2)

The Resonance Ritual. A hidden phenomenon, triggered when a Relic was carried into the land where that Constellation’s origins ran deepest.

Broken or not, it doesn’t change the fact that it’s still a Relic.

A thunderous voice came pouring out of the pocket watch. It had been half a gamble, but it had paid off splendidly.

“I know. That’s why I called you.”

“Would you have come out right away if I hadn’t?”

Yujin knew the breed called Constellations all too well. They were immortals who lived out eternity on the worship of mortals, and even one brought as low as Kronos remained a knot of pride that wouldn’t so much as share a table with a human.

“It takes a shock like this to make you come popping right out.”

“Yeah. It’s already broken.”

A strange light flickered across the pocket watch.

“You, of all beings, must understand exactly what it means for this watch to be broken.”

“As you can see.”

Yujin gave a light shrug.

“Honestly, I’m grateful to you. If it hadn’t been for this Relic, I’d have died for nothing.”

Such was the marvel of regression. Thanks to the contingency stored inside Kronos’s Relic, Yujin had been granted a second chance.

“So I’ll give you a chance too.”

“Become my patron Constellation.”

“I’m always serious.”

A brief silence. How much time passed? Then, with a tremor greater than any his rage had produced, Kronos burst into roaring laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

Well, figured as much. The whole breed’s stiff as a board, necks set in casts. Kronos might be a wreck now, but in name at least he’d been a Divine King — a Constellation on par with Zeus or Odin. I’d counted well enough on a refusal.

“Understood.”

“I’m plenty strong even without a Constellation. Or did you not figure that out from the fact that I got the watch working?”

“Something like that.”

Yujin slipped the broken pocket watch into his pocket.

“The conversation’s over. My offer to make you my patron got refused, so I’d better head back.”

“Why?”

The corner of Yujin’s lips curled upward.

“Did you leave it in my safekeeping or something?”

“Then come take it yourself. Why should I be the one to give it back?”

Without a flicker of hesitation, Yujin turned away from the ruins of the palace of Knossos.

— Vmmmmmm—!

The watch’s trembling grew more violent.

“You’re not even my patron Constellation.”

“That’s no concern of mine.”

Well, now. Rich, coming from a cold-blooded father who devoured his own children to dodge a foretold downfall.
This is the only Relic left in this land.
Blurting out his own weakness without my even asking. That just makes him easier to handle.
Push too hard and he might bounce off, so I suppose it’s about time to dangle a carrot.

Yujin turned back and let his gaze settle on the palace of Knossos once more.

“Don’t you want revenge?”

“Don’t answer a question with a question.”

You know that doesn’t sound the least bit convincing in that quavering tone of yours.

Yujin needled Kronos a little further.

“I expected more from a Divine King, but that’s all you amount to.”

“I came here because I believed that you, at least, would not have let go of your thirst for vengeance.”

A cold-blooded father who, hearing the prophecy that the Titan race would fall, had devoured even his own children. There was no way the hunger to reclaim what he’d lost, the thirst for revenge, had ever drained from Kronos’s heart.

“I’ll say it once more. Make me your patron Constellation, and I’ll help you take your revenge.”

You said you weren’t interested in revenge. So dishonest with yourself.

“Because among my enemies, Zeus is included too.”

“I do.”

The ones who had harmed Yujin directly were House Romanov. But for a house seated in Russia to project its full might onto Korea, a nation clear across in East Asia, had only been possible because the Seven Great Families chose to look the other way.

I have to assume all Seven Great Families are enemies.

Then there was House Karamanlis, hegemon of Eastern Europe and one of the Seven Great Families. A great many of its members had taken Constellations of Olympus as their patrons, and the man who reigned as its head, ‘Aden Karamanlis,’ was a powerhouse hailed as the Incarnation of Zeus.

“Bring down House Karamanlis, and the influence of Olympus’s Constellations on Earth will fall right along with it.”

“If it galls you, then don’t bother.”

“It’s not as if you’re the only Fallen Constellation out there who’s lost their light.”

Kronos’s heart heaved hard at Yujin’s bluff, and with that shift in his mood, the watch in Yujin’s pocket trembled faintly.

A supposition, he says. He’s halfway won over, and his pride still won’t let him speak plain.

Biting back the laugh that threatened to surface, Yujin calmly waited for Kronos’s next words.

“Right.”

Just as Dmitri had learned his magic from Odin, each Constellation patronized Hunters whose origins or natures aligned with its own. Raw strength alone was never enough to win one over.

That’s the very reason I was cast aside, too.

Even Constellations who governed death, like Hades or Osiris, had failed to match Yujin’s grain. And that was precisely the reason.

“That’s why I came to you. The god who once presided over harvest and time.”

The Grim Reaper. The figure draped in pitch-black robes who reaped lives with a long scythe, the very image most of Europe conjured at the word ‘reaper.’

“The image of the reaper, in the end, comes out of the harvest.”

“Time and harvest. Weave the two elements together, and it leads to the concept of defying death — that’s the idea.”

Time and death came to everyone alike. They were the very domains Kronos had once symbolized.

“Good, you catch on fast.”

A domain of defiance against the natural order, one that no Constellation presided over. Clash the two concepts Kronos had once governed, invert them, and he might even reclaim his lost starlight.

“Isn’t the theory flawless?”

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to.”

A chance to send a star that had fallen from the heavens climbing back up had appeared right in front of him. There was no way he would let it pass, not even if the domain he’d come to govern was the ‘natural-order-defying’ concept that drew the contempt of every Constellation.

An offer you can’t refuse, isn’t it?

Yujin waited, unhurried, for the answer of a Kronos sunk in silence, until the sun overhead had slipped past the horizon.

Kronos accepted Yujin’s offer.

Even with Kronos as his patron, nothing changed. The heart of a blessing was Divine Power, and from Kronos, stripped of all power, authority, and Divine Power alike, there was nothing to be drawn.

“It’s just the truth that my Constellation is useless.”

“Enough. From here on, take in the energy I channel.”

Yujin sent spirit-power flowing into the Broken Pocket Watch of Kronos.

“Don’t just marvel at it. Do your job.”

His total spirit-power came to 10. Leveling it up was one matter, but at this rate of drain his spirit-energy would run dry inside a minute.

Following the inspiration Yujin had given him, Kronos clashed Time and Harvest together, and at the same time took in the spirit-energy as a new ‘standing.’

— Kurrrng—!

A change stirred within the light-stripped Constellation. The concept of retrograde, a nature no one had ever governed, settled into Kronos, and the Constellation that had fallen to ruin found its light anew.

“Big words, for someone who couldn’t even hand over a single blessing.”

Yujin wasn’t much disappointed. Everything to this point had gone according to plan.

Even if he’s come back as a Constellation, he hasn’t got a single soul worshipping him.

A Constellation. One of the great beings who, through legendary or mythic feats, had won the worship of multitudes and carved their existence into the stars. Each governed natures drawn from those feats, ranging from the elemental, like the sun or the sea, to physical traits like strength or agility, and on to abstract emotions like love or wrath.

Kronos hasn’t built up a single tale tied to the concept of defying the natural order.

No one worshipped him. Not a single karmic deed, myth, or story tied to the concept existed; he had merely scraped past the requirements by slotting in the ‘reaper’ legend handed down out of the medieval ages.

The only choice is for me — his sole patron — to build that karma and lore in his stead.
As I reclaim the heights I held before the regression, the karma tied to the concept will fill up soon enough.

The stronger Kronos grew as a Constellation, the stronger the blessing conferred upon Yujin would grow.

“What’s with ‘contractor’?”

Kronos gave a long, deliberate clearing of his throat.

“Can you grant a blessing?”

A strong light leaked from his pocket. There was no mistaking its source, the Broken Pocket Watch of Kronos.

A Saint? The instant Kronos’s declaration drove itself into his mind, a surge of intense power he had never felt in his past life came coursing down through the crown of his head.

“Ngh, nngh.”

Yujin felt the brimming power spreading into every corner of his body, and lost consciousness.

When he closed his eyes and opened them again, countless points of starlight reflected off Yujin’s retinas.

“Who told you to do something like that without any warning?”

A Saint? Of course he knew the title, the highest-grade job in the Priest class group. On some passing whim, his foolish, prideful Constellation had wrung out its rat-dropping pittance of power to appoint Yujin a Priest.

“A Necromancer as a Priest. That makes no sense at all.”

Grinding his teeth, Yujin nonetheless pulled up his status window and checked the additions.

“Huh?”

White Night. An aberrant trait that even Yujin, who before the regression had stood at the very summit of all Hunters, had never so much as heard of. The power to convert freely between holy power and mana.

Wait.

Doesn’t this mean I can use both Necromancer and Priest-line skills?
Insane!

If he hadn’t reflexively clapped his right hand over his mouth, he’d have nearly let out a shout.

Holy spells could be cast only by those who possessed holy power. Necromancer spells, by contrast, ran on spirit-power.

This is an absurd trait.

For holy spells, he would draw on holy power; for the Necromancer’s abilities, White Night would swap the stat across. To think he’d gained a unique trait that let him wring more than a hundred percent out of his own abilities.

“So you didn’t appoint me a Saint with no plan at all.”

You gave me something this impressive, so I’ll let it slide for now.

The Saint of the White Night class was just as remarkable. Its effect drove the penalty all the way down to zero. No penalty was one thing; for an ordinary Priest class, though, even learning Necromancer skills, which fell under the Magic line, was a tall order.

There’s a way around all that.

At this unexpected windfall, the corner of his mouth kept creeping upward.

All right. Then let’s check the holy spell.

Then he read down through the description of Life Drain.

“Is this really a holy spell?”

A holy spell that stripped away another’s life force. By any plain reading it was nothing but a curse; going by the description alone, it brought to mind dark arts like Vampiric Touch. The one difference, if it counted as one, was that the stolen life force could be banked and then spent like a heal. That, and the fact that it could raise stats.

This one I’ll only know once I actually use it.

Simply gaining the unique trait called White Night meant he was starting from far better footing than he’d had before the regression. Yujin didn’t spare the unidentified holy spell much thought.

Well, the holy spell’s just a bonus.

Thanks to the unprecedented trait called White Night, he could handle Priest-line abilities now too. But at his core he remained a Necromancer.

The bonus is nice, but I can’t forget what I am at heart.

His preparations were complete. Now came the time to grow stronger, and for a Hunter the standard road to strength ran through hunting monsters.

Around this time… that place would be the best bet.

His next destination was Myeongdong. A gate that held a secret no one would uncover until far in the future: the Garden of Antiquity.