Chapter 121: It Seems Like an Awakening Event (3) |
# It Seems Like an Awakening Event (3)
*
"Ugh..."
My consciousness began returning through the haze of a headache.
In my groggy state, I was quickly able to reach a conclusion about my condition.
'Did I lose consciousness?'
It seemed like I'd had a nosebleed just before blacking out.
I brought my hand up to my philtrum to check.
Nothing came away on my fingertips.
By the time I finished that simple status check, my field of vision began to return.
A familiar room.
But an unfamiliar bookshelf came into view.
In the corner of the modestly sized room, bookshelves stretched endlessly, extending far beyond where they should have ended.
'Still inside the Library of Memory.'
My old room hadn't been fitted with space magic, unlike the archives of other noble families.
It also wasn't nearly wide enough to hold this many bookshelves.
In other words, this was a space reconstructed from my imagination.
I gathered myself back up within that space and thought.
'How did I end up losing the memory...'
I had been...
Right.
I had been reviewing materials to find a cure for Eri's illness.
'There was a book on the manufacturing process for Eculizumab...'
I retraced my steps and moved back between the shelves.
Of course, I already knew.
That opening that book again carried a high likelihood of making me collapse again.
The chance that collapsing while reviewing that book had been a coincidence was vanishingly small.
But I intended to try once more, just to confirm.
It seemed far too wasteful to write it off as coincidence and let the opportunity slip away.
'Let me try just one more time.'
It had definitely been somewhere around here.
I passed the book of recipes, passed the black magic lecture textbook.
I ran my fingertips along the spines of the disordered memory-books and pressed on.
At last, I arrived at the spot where I had pulled that book from.
'...Huh?'
My fingertips closed on empty air.
[Manufacturing Process for Eculizumab (C5 Inhibitor Monoclonal Antibody).]
The book I had clearly pulled from this very spot was gone.
Like the gap left by a front tooth that my youngest, Fried, had just started losing, one section of the shelf sat completely empty.
'What?'
Was there only one chance to read it?
Or had I knocked my head somewhere particularly unfortunate when I collapsed just now?
It was then.
A voice I didn't recognize spoke from behind me.
"Eculizumab. A remarkable drug."
My imagined space.
Someone else was inside that space.
'...Inception?'
Had my imagination somehow run so wild that it had conjured an entirely new personality?
With a creeping unease, I turned around.
Within the familiar landscape of my old room—
a stranger was leaning against my desk, reading a book.
Standing about a head taller than me, this person was dressed in a neatly pressed black formal suit.
Given that they had four limbs, produced human speech, and was reading a book, I had little difficulty concluding they were a person.
Even if above the neatly knotted tie, where a human neck should have been, there floated a spherical mass—like a stretch of cosmic space stitched with stars—
in a world where magic existed and chimeras existed, I decided to chalk that up to individuality and move on.
The entity turned a page and spoke.
"In some worlds, it was among the most expensive drugs. That's only natural—anything truly good always carries a price."
The entity closed the book.
"The memory shows no distortion. This knowledge alone would be more than sufficient to conquer PNH. However..."
The book flew from the man's hand.
A book that fluttered like a winged bird.
It flapped its pages and vanished among the countless other books.
"The contents are somewhat too heavy for you to take in just yet."
"...Who... are you?"
"You're the first young man I've encountered who could look at what I am and still ask such a question. Are you free of prejudice, or merely ignorant? Even someone who has never seen a Demonkin wouldn't normally react that way."
Demonkin?
That couldn't be right.
'I'd heard that Demonkin were indistinguishable from humans in appearance.'
Of course, Demonkin did possess certain peculiar physical traits.
But those were things like having multiple hearts, or lacking a digestive system entirely.
Nothing that would manifest visibly on the outside.
Then what was that cosmic head about?
As though reading my thoughts, the Cosmic Head Demonkin gave a small, amused sound—or at least, it felt that way.
"My name is Babel. Let's say I'm a Demonkin who explores rationality."
*
The Demonkin who had introduced himself as Babel gazed at my bookshelves and spoke.
"I imagine you have many questions. But the knowledge that can be taken from this space is not so abundant. So for now, simply listen."
I nodded without a word.
Demonkin.
Beings beyond all comparison to black sorcerers or demonic beasts—the worst existence known to humanity.
Creatures for whom the very concept of death held no meaning, who would eventually return no matter how completely their physical form was destroyed.
Bearing the power of demonic beasts, the intellect of humans, and the cunning of black sorcerers alike—the final bosses of this world's setting, by any measure.
The weakest Demonkin ever recorded in history was still 5th Rank.
And if the entity before me was a Demonkin, then having invaded my imagined space, it was only reasonable to assume it ranked even higher.
Which meant the only thing I could do here was keep a careful eye on it and search for any way out.
"..."
"There's no need to be so frightened. The master of this space is you, is it not? How could I possibly harm you here? That would hardly be fitting conduct for a guest."
"..."
"And you need not worry about me seeking you out in the real world either. My story is already over. Your stage belongs entirely to you."
"...?"
Babel, the Demonkin, rambling away to himself with words I couldn't quite parse.
"First, as to why you collapsed just now—it was because the knowledge was too heavy for your current level of caliber to carry."
"Rank... you mean?"
"Rank is not caliber. Caliber is not the level of mastery one has accumulated—it is the great achievements one has accomplished."
Babel clasped his hands behind his back and began drifting between the bookshelves.
Then he stopped in front of one particular shelf.
Among the gray-spined books, a single volume stood out in blue.
Babel picked it up and spoke.
"A considerable portion of your memories depend on your soul. And your physical body still lacks the caliber to bear the weight of the knowledge your soul carries."
The man tossed the book to me.
"Don't be impatient. You only need to recall things one at a time, slowly. As you live on, you'll naturally be able to read them. Of all the knowledge you could take from this place today, the most immediately necessary is that memory there."
At those words, I found myself reading the cover of the blue book he had passed me without thinking.
[Mass Production Techniques for Steroids]
My shoulders flinched before I could stop them.
"...This is?"
"Use this in place of the Eculizumab. It's a shame, but it should have some effect for now."
Another question about the entity before me added itself to the list.
Just what on earth was this being?
"A tower should not be built in too great a hurry. To reach the sky, the foundation below must be made that much thicker. Whether it could still be called a tower at that point—I couldn't say."
For some reason, Babel's cosmic head seemed to smile.
Having said what he came to say, he waggled a finger.
As though inviting a question.
Seeing him raise only one finger, I took it to mean there was time for just one more.
I had plenty I wanted to ask.
But there was only one question I needed to ask right now.
"How did you get in here?"
"Let me redirect that. I'll tell you instead why I'm showing you this goodwill."
Darn it.
So he was going to say whatever he pleased regardless of what I asked.
"The reason is simple. Because all things are equivalent exchange."
"Equivalent exchange... you say?"
"That's right."
The moment I heard those words, I turned my head toward the door.
Anxiously checking whether, as in some comic, a black hand or a pair of eyeballs might come sliding through the gap in the door.
Because I wanted the knowledge, but I had no desire to lose any limbs.
Fortunately, the door remained quiet.
It stayed as an ordinary wooden door, with no inexplicable runes suddenly carved into it, and no transformation into a towering marble gate.
Babel, watching me do all of this, continued his explanation.
"...To activate magic, one must expend the corresponding magical power, catalyst, and symbol. For you to carry memories and knowledge out of this place, you must likewise expend an equivalent measure of caliber."
He pointed to himself.
"And the reason I show you this goodwill is because you've been doing a fine job of alleviating my boredom. Think of it as a form of patronage."
He pointed to the books.
"Going forward, I'll select the books you need. Think of me as a librarian."
Then Babel checked his pocket watch.
"Hm. It seems we can just barely manage one more question."
"...Then could I ask, perhaps, how it came to be that I met you?"
In the next instant, my consciousness grew hazy.
Through the fading haze, Babel's voice reached me.
"A pleasure to meet you. To answer your final question within the bounds of what you'll be able to remember—it was not I who came to find you, but you who came to find me."
With those words, my vision went dark.
And just before my consciousness cut off entirely, Babel's voice came once more.
"Ah. I nearly forgot."
The sound of Babel clapping his hands reached me.
"Happy birthday, Yulian."
*
"Ugh..."
My consciousness began returning through the haze of a headache.
In my groggy state, I was quickly able to reach a conclusion about my condition.
'Good grief... did I lose consciousness again?'
It seemed like I'd had another nosebleed just before blacking out.
I brought my hand up to my philtrum to check.
Nothing came away on my fingertips.
'Just a feeling, then.'
By the time I finished that simple status check, my memories began rapidly returning.
Right.
In the Library of Memory...
I opened my eyes.
And saw nothing.
'...?'
Had I been transferred to some strange space again?
With that thought, I looked around.
Turning left, I still saw nothing.
But when I turned right, the familiar landscape of my room came into view.
'?'
When I turned my gaze back upward, I again saw nothing.
Just as a string of question marks threatened to take over my mind at this entirely unprecedented situation,
"Are you awake, Teacher?"
Eri's voice came from directly above my head.
Only then did I realize I had lost consciousness and come to rest with my head against her thigh.
The reason I couldn't see anything when I looked left or straight ahead from that lap pillow position... I'll refrain from elaborating.
"E... ri...?"
"You suddenly started bleeding from your nose and I got worried. Have you been sleeping lately?"
Eri's voice, tinged with concern.
I tried to sit up, but her hand held me in place.
"Don't push yourself. Stay and rest your eyes a bit."
It seemed she had decided overwork was the cause of my collapse.
There was no chance of me overpowering Eri, who had one foot at Rank 1, so I had no choice but to close my eyes again.
Eri spoke from above.
"Did you push yourself because of me?"
"...No, it's not that."
"Then let me rephrase. Did you ever cut back on sleep for this today?"
"..."
I said nothing.
Because it was true that I had sacrificed sleep to complete my Library of Memory before the heavy snow season arrived,
and it was equally true that the person I had been thinking of while building this library was Eri.
Eri seemed to understand what my silence meant.
"That's what pushing yourself means, Teacher."
"..."
Well.
I knew perfectly well that collapsing had nothing to do with overexertion.
But I had no intention of saying that aloud.
How could I possibly explain that using Count Barlot's magic had led to contact with some peculiar Demonkin, from whom I'd learned steroid manufacturing techniques?
And on top of that, the knowledge had come from a Demonkin.
One wrong move and I could be dragged to the gallows, with the Nihilrit family wiped from existence.
'It's an absolute taboo—nothing even a black sorcerer compares to.'
Colluding with a Demonkin was a taboo surpassing even that of a black sorcerer.
To put it in perspective—it was a great sin on par with, or just below, treason.
And putting it mildly, roughly seven out of ten reasons the Magic Tower of the 13th Month received the extermination penalty could be attributed to "contributing to the birth of a Demonkin." That was how sensitive an issue Demonkin were to humanity.
'I suppose I'll have to keep Babel a secret from Teacher as well.'
It wasn't simply a choice made for the sake of my own life.
It came from the thought that Babel was a being quite unlike any ordinary Demonkin.
'Somehow it feels like my secrets just keep multiplying by the day.'
I shook off the chain of thoughts and turned my focus back to Eri.
"Eri. I'm sorry. I wasn't able to find a complete cure."
"So you did find something that helps a little?"
"...Yes."
Using a Steroid would allow me to bring Eri's symptoms under some degree of control.
It wasn't a completely fruitless outcome.
"Still, I'm sorry. I wanted to cure you completely."
"No, it's alright."
Eri ran her hand gently over the crown of my head and spoke.
"Teacher is always trying. I'll work on raising my Rank faster."
For some reason, her voice seemed to carry both relief and a trace of disappointment at the same time.
After that, I spent a good while resting on Eri's lap.
"...Come to think of it, you might be able to meet someone with a similar constitution to yours at the Academy."
"Hm? What kind of person?"
"Someone with a constitution similar to yours."
"...Is it a girl?"
"It's a boy."
"How does his talent compare to mine?"
"Well. He seems a bit lacking compared to you on the magic side. Oh, right—I'll pass along some of the blood magic knowledge that friend was studying. It should help a little with keeping your symptoms in check."
I wasn't released from Eri until Freya came to collect us both for dinner.
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