A messenger? Ha — if I ever need to consult the Goddess, Lilith, or the God of Wisdom about anything, I'll just send you along.
Ebner kept the thought to himself. Outwardly, he reached into his Palace and produced a laurel crown that looked as though it had been woven from crystal, and held it out to Aglaia.
This was the Warlock's Laurel Crown — a Sequence 1 sealed artifact seized from the Purple Saintess.
Aglaia's eyes lit up the moment she saw it. "I never thought I'd receive it a second time. Now this is a gift."
The Warlock's Laurel Crown had once been a gift from Rhine. It was taken by Cheek when Aglaia fell, and now, against all odds, it had found its way back to her.
"A gift? I'm only lending it to you for protection." Ebner corrected her, perfectly straight-faced.
He hadn't recovered his memories of her yet, so he had no real intention of treating her as a daughter — and a Sequence 1 sealed artifact wasn't something to give away on a whim. If it weren't completely useless to him, he wouldn't have thought to lend it to Aglaia in the first place.
Angel-Fiends were powerful, but they were also easier to counter and suppress. The strange Mystery Recurrence spells on the Warlock's Laurel Crown happened to patch exactly that weakness.
"Yes, yes, I know..." Aglaia took the crown and placed it on her head without a second thought.
He could call it a loan for now. Once Father recovered his memories, there was no chance he'd ever ask for it back.
Ebner saw through her reasoning perfectly well, but didn't dwell on it. What came later could wait. Right now he had more pressing matters — specifically, the five women who were gradually coming back to consciousness.
The former Celestial Sect's "Propagation Apostle," Abby, felt a lightness in her body she had never known. She couldn't help herself — she broke into tears all over again, her drops falling to the floor and joining the thin streams of blood that ran across the stone.
The Aurora Order's "Lady D," Lofia, stared into the middle distance. Her condition hadn't been as severe as the others — the protection of the True Creator had kept the worst of it at bay, though that protection's own side effects were nearly as bad — yet feeling that suffering vanish in an instant still left her with the hollow, breathless feeling of someone reborn.
The "Pale Admiral" Maria maintained her usual composure. She took a careful measure of her own state, and a faint frown crossed her otherwise composed face.
"Witch" Bianca, being the lowest in Sequence among them, noticed no particular change in herself. She had been working for Ebner for months and was more comfortable with him than the rest, so she was the first to climb down from her altar and approach him.
"Viscount, sir — has my... has my condition been resolved?"
Ebner smiled. "It has. From now on, there's nothing special about you. Though naturally, that means no special abilities either."
He glanced at the other four women and added, "Same goes for all of you."
Mrs. Felina stepped forward then, still visibly dazed, her face full of bewildered confusion. "Mr. Bryan... what exactly... what happened?"
Her memories stopped somewhere just after they had explored the Ghost Empire together.
"Ah, well." Ebner cleared his throat. "I detected a severe contamination within you, so I took care of the problem. It was done with the Speaker's approval, naturally."
Before she could think too hard about that, he opened a Transmission door and gestured toward it. "Step through this, and you'll be back in Backlund."
The Speaker? Wasn't the Speaker missing? Felina's mind was still fuzzy from the long hypnosis, and Ebner's breezy explanation threw her off before she could find her footing. She stepped through on instinct, and it wasn't until Backlund's cold night air hit her that she finally snapped back to herself.
"Viscount Bryan means... the contamination is gone?" She ran several checks on herself in quick succession, then murmured quietly, "It really is... I won't hurt anyone anymore.
"Perhaps I could consider accepting Stuart's offer after all."
A gust of wind cut through her thoughts and made her hunch her shoulders against the chill.
"Good grief — how is a June night this cold?" She had barely gotten the words out when another gust swept past, and with it, a newspaper flew straight into her face.
Her Sequence 5 reflexes kicked in and she caught it before it hit the ground — she was already moving to toss it in the nearest bin when the date printed across the top stopped her cold.
October 10th, Year 1350?!
I was inside the Ghost Empire for four months?
· · ·
Meanwhile, "Lady D" Lofia had watched Felina walk through the door on her own, and now stepped forward herself. She gave Ebner a careful, formal bow, then asked with poorly concealed anxiety: "The request I made before — are you able to fulfill it now?"
"Blocking out the True Creator's whispers?" Ebner smiled. "Actually quite simple." He pointed past her toward the coffin. "Do you see that? That is the corpse of a great existence. Dead as it is, the power it still contains is beyond reckoning. All you need to do is recite its true name, and the True Creator's attention will slide right off you."
He paused. "And since it is already dead, you needn't worry about the consequences of speaking that name aloud."
Lofia's face went through a rapid series of changes. Resistance, calculation, resignation — a visible war behind her eyes.
Then her head dropped, and she said, low and heavy: "Please tell me the name of this great existence."
Ebner's smile disappeared. His voice became grave. "It is the magnificent 'Father of Succubi, Lord of Desire, Fount of Depravity.'"
"The magnificent 'Father of Succubi, Lord of Desire, Fount of Depravity'..." Lofia repeated the name haltingly in Rune, then couldn't help but ask once more: "It... it won't come back to life?"
"An existence like that will inevitably return." Ebner glanced at her sidelong. "You just may not live to see it."
Beside him, Aglaia's eyes curved with laughter. Not for nothing is he Father's reincarnation. He even looks exactly like Father when he's stringing someone along.
Lofia absorbed this, nodded slowly, and asked a few questions about the great existence's preferences and the proper rituals of address. Then she stepped to one side, intending to wait until she had rested and was at her best before attempting a prayer.
As for asking Ebner to send her back to Intis the way he had done with Felina — the thought never crossed her mind. That Viscount was not going to let her go so easily.
With Lofia handled, Ebner turned to the Propagation Apostle Abby. "You know as well as I do that given the crimes you've committed, I won't simply release you. You have wrongs to atone for. As it happens, the charitable hospital I've established in Backlund is about to open. You'll go there and take charge of its operations. With your abilities, it shouldn't be beyond you."
Then he looked back at Lofia. "As for you — I'll be placing you somewhere for a period of work. Perform well, and I'll give you your freedom."
Lady D was different from the other Aurora Order emissaries. Her ability to resist the whispers had kept her from the worst of the madness, and her sins were few. A moderate lesson was enough.
"Agreed," Lofia said, with the pragmatism of someone who knew exactly where she stood.
She had seen those dozens of witches undergoing "reform through labor" in the Viscount's mansion. She harbored no illusions.
Bianca gathered her nerve. "Viscount, sir — may I continue working in your household?"
After months as a housekeeper, she had grown comfortable with the life. Even now that she was "normal" again, she had no desire to leave her corner of comfort.
"Fine by me," Ebner said.
With arrangements made for the three of them, he opened three Transmission doors.
One led to the estate in Trier. One led to the charitable foundation in Backlund. The third opened toward Morning Star City — that one was for Lady D.
Bernadette could not remain in the floating city indefinitely. Someone needed to serve as a guide for those still emerging from the dark, and Lofia, having now spoken the name of the Fount of Depravity, was one of them. She could be trusted.
The three women departed one after another, and the last one remaining, the Pale Admiral Maria, stepped forward with a face like iron.
"Now that the contamination has been removed, the devil inside me is growing harder to suppress. Please fulfill your promise and help me complete the demigod advancement ritual — as soon as possible."
"Now?" Ebner studied her for a moment, his brow creasing.
"Preferably." Maria's answer was flat and uncompromising.
"Very well. I'll keep my word." He gave a brief nod, took hold of Maria's arm, then glanced over at Aglaia, who had been watching all of this with evident enjoyment. "You're coming too. With you present, the ritual will go more smoothly."
"No objection." Aglaia's smile took on an odd edge. Then she fell into step beside him, and the two of them vanished from the ritual chamber together.
· · ·
High above the Observer's Castle, a slender figure in a red formal suit stood suspended in midair, the blood moon casting something deeply unsettling across its silhouette.
It was Roselle's adopted son — follower of the God of Fortune, the "Blood Archduke," Yaldabaoth.
It gazed down at the castle below for a long moment, then shook its head.
"Worthy of the Master's reincarnation. Nothing simple about him at all."
· · ·
Tuesday morning. Ebner dragged himself back to the villa on Pinster Street 28 after seeing the Pale Admiral Maria successfully through her advancement, exhausted in body and mind.
He took a quick bath and slept through most of the morning. It was the butler's knock that finally roused him — the lady named Lamia who had visited once before had come calling again. That got him moving. He washed up, headed downstairs, and walked into the sitting room.
Sure enough, there she was. Lilith, descended into the body of the Goddess of Beauty, had set down her teacup and was watching him arrive with a warm, unhurried smile.
(End of Chapter)