The Power To Survive

At that time, Uptown.
A place located in the deepest part beyond ancient Moon Street. A domain of those who never doubted the power of ‘the oldest wheel,’ even as the wheel of history moved forward.
A road carefully paved with white silverstone that resembled moonlight. What towered at the end was, without a doubt, a structure symbolizing the 「Ancient Council」.

Even its structure was not of a single form. Gothic spires, Baroque curves, the solid honesty of ancient styles, Art Nouveau elegance. Even though every style was mixed together dizzyingly, it revealed one beautiful harmony.

Although those called the bourgeoisie and the 「City Council」 formally handled all kinds of administrative procedures and affairs of this city and claimed to rule it, everyone knew. In reality, the ones who moved Guild City from the very top were elsewhere.

This was the true identity of those movers.

“As the five swords have gathered according to the ancient law, I solemnly proclaim the opening of the council here.”

There were five people. According to the five seats each occupied in their respective positions.

First Seat. Arrowhead, Magic-Spear Prismancer¹. Beneath the white radiance, the living bisque doll Rosetta Arrowhead sat more elegantly than ever.

Second Seat, Haunting, Spirit Binder. Beneath the bluish glowing shade, an old figure in undertaker clothes held a cane. He was trapped inside shadows that looked gloomy at a glance, binding screaming wraiths like slaves.

“The Third Seat…… House Lancaster appears to be absent.”

Third Seat. Lancaster, ■■ ■■■─. Looking at that empty seat, the Patriarch of House Arrowhead calmly murmured.

Fourth Seat, Bale. Shadow Binder. What sat there was no one. It was a shadow. Its true body did not exist here, and only a bound shadow sat in the seat like an envoy.

In that sense, Rosetta of the First Seat was no exception either. Because the one there was merely one of the original’s many prisms.

“Everyone…… seems busy in one way or another.”
“Exactly so. Truly, even ten bodies would not be enough.”

Duke Haunting, the only one seated here as the Patriarch of one of the Five Great Houses, spoke. The Spirit Binder, Patriarch of House Haunting. Spirit Duke Haunting.. Rosetta answered as if amused.

“By the way, to think Cromwell’s prodigal son would return.”

Then the shadow of the Fourth Seat opened its mouth. Toward the final seated Fifth Seat.
Cromwell, Iron-Blood Incarnator.

There was no obligation for the Patriarchs of their houses themselves to attend this seat. It was enough to send at least a representative who could act on the Patriarch’s will. In that sense, although those present were not necessarily the Patriarchs themselves, there could be no doubt that they were the ones closest to the Patriarch.
Except for the final exception.

“Whether Cromwell’s prodigal son returned or not is none of our concern, but how does a mere prodigal son who has only just returned dare proudly occupy one of the five thrones?”

The shadow of the Fourth Seat asked back as if displeased. As House Bale, as the Shadow Binder. Although the one bound to that shadow was not the Patriarch, his position was more than sufficient to act on the Patriarch’s will. In that regard, the other Great Houses were similar as well.

“Is there a problem?”

Even so, Cromwell’s prodigal son seated in the Fifth Seat asked back.

“One corner of the Five Great Houses. Cromwell─Iron-Blood Incarnator.”

In a voice more emotionless than ever.

“The fact that, as the next Patriarch of House Cromwell, I sit here representing the Iron-Blood Duke.”

Mihail Cromwell said it. Once again.

“─Is there a problem?”

“Welcome to my shitty Mage Tower, my bro!”

In Guild City’s cesspit, along the endless underground waterways, the Cesspit Mage Tower Master dramatically spread both arms.

“And my disciple, whom I adore so much I want to smooch you all over!”
“…….”

Solomon spoke while trying hard to pretend he had not heard those burdensome words.

“Sometimes, I think I should be a little diligent…… and try acting like a disciple.”
“Oh, shit! A disciple overflowing with passion! I like that!”

At Solomon’s words, Lord Bowery laughed heartily as if he had been waiting for them.

“People generally only get urgent when fire lands on their feet, don’t they?! Especially some people, who only start lifting their damn asses when it’s not just fire, but something like hellfire!”
“…….”

He cackled as if he could see through Solomon’s situation like the palm of his hand.

“I need power.”

Solomon answered.

“Power, good! By the way, this city is overflowing with all kinds of power. Could you be a little more specific?”
“The power to survive.”

Calmly.

“The power to survive among the monsters of this city.”

The opponents Solomon had to survive against no longer ended with Beelzebub or the Black Museum. As proven by what he had just experienced at House Arrowhead’s mansion.

“Oh, the power to survive! Truly, the power of powers!”

At those words, Lord Bowery shouted in a booming voice.

“I was waiting for those exact words. I mean, for a fucking long time! Damn, that took goddamn forever!”
“…….”
“As it happens, I will tell you one lesson I know about the power to survive.”
“A lesson?”
“The pain that doesn’t kill us, or more precisely, the pain that nearly kills us…… makes us stronger!”

There was no way he wouldn’t know those words. Except for the fact that they had come out in a situation like this.
The lesson that pain that did not kill him, pain that nearly killed him, would ultimately only make him stronger.

“And besides, that lesson…… has no exception, even for a god.”

Even so, unlike what Solomon imagined, there was no obvious pain inflicted on the spot that would ‘nearly kill’ him.
Instead, Lord Bowery’s conversation moved in a very unexpected direction.

“A god?”
“In the deepest part of this cesspit, a god in that exact nearly-dead state lies asleep. Oh, think about it! A god, nearly dead!”

At those unexpected words, Solomon blinked.

“Just how much stronger were they trying to make that god, to dare give them pain that nearly killed even a god!”
“……What are you trying to say?”
“The Goddess of Shadows and Webs.”

Lord Bowery said.

“That is the name of the one sleeping at the bottom of this cesspit after suffering a near-death wound. Literally in a nearly dead state.”
“A god suffered a near-death wound……?”
“Once, another human assassin drove her to the verge of death.”
“!”

[Clue Acquired! Critically Wounded Goddess of Shadows and Webs]
[Clue Acquired! Another Human Assassin]

A human assassin. One of the three witnesses who witness the conception of a God Spawn, and the being in charge of the offering of myrrh that symbolizes the mortality of God.

“There’s a human assassin other than me?”
“Oh, is there any reason there shouldn’t be?”
“Who is it?”

The words that followed were by no means unexpected to Solomon.
Moreover, thinking about it logically, in a world overflowing with gods, angels, and demons, there was no way Solomon would be the only being who witnessed the hatching of a new god.

“Darkshadow Duke Bale.”
“─.”

Even though he had known, Solomon could not help being shaken when he heard that name. House Bale, the Patriarch of the Shadow Binders.

“Duke Bale…….”

To Solomon, the meaning that name held was special. There was no need to say it. Because he was Solomon’s biological father.

“Once, Darkshadow Duke Bale tried to kill the shadow god they were supposed to worship and usurp that god’s seat.”
“Kill a god and take that seat……?”
“This city is full of bastards who want to climb higher!”

To climb above that, to the seat of a god.
In the TRPG world, mortals aiming for the status of immortals and trying to steal their seats was not something that surprising.

“Do you think becoming the Patriarch of a Great House lets you see the end of it? No, absolutely not! As someone once said, people’s dreams never end!”

The idea that House Bale, which controlled shadows, had aimed for the shadow god’s seat and tried to steal it was, in a certain sense, something close to a cliché. Putting aside the point that he grandiosely packaged it as people’s dreams never ending.

“In fact, his plan was on the verge of success. Everything was going smoothly. Many puzzle pieces fit neatly into the places where they were supposed to be.”
“So in the end, he failed.”
“He was short just one thing! One puzzle piece, I mean. Really, literally, a piece of shit!”
“…….”

A short silence. After the silence, Lord Bowery opened his mouth.

“By the way, just think about it. A wounded god stabbed in the back by her most trusted believer and lodged at the bottom of a cesspit. Just how much vengeance do you think she would burn with…….”

Along with meaningful words that continued.

“And how much power she would promise a new believer who promises the revenge of a god!”
“…….”

A short silence.

“Are you helping with this shadow god’s revenge or whatever too?”
“Well, you could say it is similar. At least since I got thrown into this cesspit.”

Lord Bowery shrugged. In an endlessly vague tone, without saying anything decisively.

“So you’re telling me to find the shadow god sleeping at the bottom of the cesspit and convert?”
“Ha!”

Lord Bowery answered Solomon’s question as if it were absurd.

“Think about it. Do you think she, who was betrayed by someone she trusted, got thrown into the bottom of a cesspit, and is barely clinging to an oxygen respirator, would grandly demand conversion or faith or anything like that?”
“……No way.”
“There is no business easier to understand than a deal with a god, bro! Especially when it is a god who has lost everything and burns with vengeance.”

A deal with a god.

“And besides, to survive in this city…… one might say business ability is essential.”

Lord Bowery said with a snicker.

“Head for the deepest part of this cesspit. There, you will face her.”
“…….”
“The Goddess of Shadows and Webs…… who suffered a near-death wound at the hands of a human assassin and is dying.”

To Solomon, who had come to him as a passionate disciple, he brazenly passed off the role as usual.

“While not dying, and staying alive, of course.”
“…….”
“Oh, come to think of it, I forgot to mention something.”
“What?”
“I have taken many godsons until now…… but none of them ever returned alive from there.”
“……What?”

The many godsons he had taken until now. In the world of magicians, a godfather and disciple were essentially master and disciple. At first, Solomon had believed his goodwill was the only privilege he showed Solomon. It was not.

“I have no doubt that you, bro, will be the first to come back alive!”
“Ah, fuck.”

‘Bad words are about to come out.’

After saying it, he realized he had confused a speech bubble with a thought.

“Oh, of course you must! That’s the only way you’ll become a true magician. I mean, a proper ‘true shadow magician’!”

At those words, another curse burst out. And there was no time to spit that curse out of his throat either.

“Good night, good luck!”

By the time he realized it, the ground beneath his feet collapsed again.