"..So, I'll help you. But it'll be my own terms since I'm not at liberty to make any broad moves."
Against all odds, Lyla LeDeloux had taken my offer seriously and showed up again in my sanctuary. Saved me the trouble of tracking her down myself, so I was incredibly grateful.
Lord knew what sort of annoying situation I would've gotten myself into had I actually needed to venture around the campus. The less time I was out in the open, the smaller the chance I'd get harassed.
She had a sort of skeptical expression on her face after I finished my pitch to her, which angered me a little bit. It was as if someone was trying to sell her a lifetime warranty on a refurbished item in the Night Market.
You couldn't tell if the guy who was trying to sell you the warranty was going to hide some bullshit clause that would render the warranty void upon purchase or whether he'd take the money and run off to the next city.
I'm not going to scam you, goddammit. I had a change of heart, okay?! Is that really so hard to believe?!
What am I, some kind of heartless demon? I'm human!
"...What do you want?" Lyla's response was rather curt, for that I'd told her. It seems that I might've lost a couple of trust points with her given my sudden 180 on her request.
"How 'bout you tell me why you need to die first, hmm? I won't be able to make an appropriate offer until I completely understand what the job will entail."
Nothing personal about it. A 'Contractor' isn't beholden to anything or anyone, except their reward.
An assassination request by a top-level executive to supplant his superior, once and for all.
A request to sabotage a rival company's manufacturing plant and steal the schematics on their new product.
A request to find concrete evidence of a husband's infidelity by a suspicious wife.
....A request to mow a large lawn by a single widow, specifically requesting that the mowing be done shirtless.
As long as you had enough money, you can post your request on the global contractor service, ADVFOR, and get your task done by a freelance worker.
These soulless husks who'll take up any job so long as the pay is decent are known as Contractors and once upon a time, I was one of them.
Anything's up for grabs, if you can kill your conscience.
In any case, ADVFOR's an illegal site that can only be found on the Exterior-Line of the Net.
Is not humorous that the time-honored tradition of completing requests has become a crime? What would our ancestors, the intrepid adventurers of yore, say about the fact that their trade has been outlawed?
It didn't seem like she was going to budge easily on divulging her story, so I opted to appease the princess first.
When I pulled out a bag of Zeetos from my backpack, I detected a shift in her attention for a second before she resumed her stoic facade. From what I understood about her, she was a stubborn mule, but not enough to suppress her desires.
To think that the granddaughter of a multi-billion credit dynasty would be so easily influenced by... a bag of potato chips. If the ancient mummy of a High Elf that Lyla called her grandfather could see the sight in front of me right now, he might've had an aneurysm out of fury and shock.
Here was one of the blueblooded LeDeloux family members... and she was drooling ever-so-slightly like a puppy that'd caught sight of a treat.
I swear on my left ballsack that I heard her anxiously gulp when I opened the bag. How wretched must her life be to feel so strongly about a bag of chips? You'd think I was offering a drug addict the best gift ever because she almost tore the bag out of my hands when I offered her a chip.
"Hey, come on now, take a breathe and relax, okay? That ain't the last bag of chips in the world, so stop glaring at me like that."
There was something indescribably cute about the guarded expression on her face that was full of doubt.
I found myself wanting to tease this little princess. It was an irresistible craving that I nearly lost to in the heat of the moment.
"Why don't you start from the very beginning and get me acquainted with your problem. If it's not too much of a hassle, I might even be able to offer you an alternative that doesn't involve you... well, dying."
A deep grumble echoed out of Lyla's lips and she said, "I've told you, it doesn't matter as long as you can kill me. How difficult is it for you to do a hit without knowing the details? Your target's sitting in front of you!"
This stubborn little—
"Either you tell me or it ain't happening. What could you be possibly hiding that matter so much? I'm a goddamned walking corpse, so you don't have to hold back. Just spill the fucking beans already."
I swear, you'd think I was trying to interrogate a fuckin' Fed for answers or something. Girl's harder to crack the last vault safe I've broken into.
"I'm a professional, you dumb elf. You think I give a shit about your private life? I've killed men for some of the dumbest shit in the world. You aren't going to surprise me."
Lyla hesitated for a moment and then said, "Have you heard of the concept known as 'Metastable Apotheosis?'"
Metastable Apotheosis. Of course, I knew the term as a High-Engineering major, but that didn't mean I understood it. What she was talking about was a field of the study several leagues above my comprehension. Maybe my future self, a decade or two in the future might have something meaningful to say about that topic.
But I knew the gist of what those words implied.
"You're talking about making... a god and the underlying mechanics involved creating a stable, functional one. But only the Fifty Wisemen are knowledgable about that sort of stuff."
Or rather, they've been keeping that knowledge under lock and key away from everyone else.
Not that I'm mad about that. In fact, I'm rather happy that it's like that — giving away the recipe on how to make a god would probably spell the end of the world.
It's too much power for anyone to properly handle, period. Only the Fifty Wisemen possibly have the willpower to not abuse such an... almighty creation.
Lyla nodded and said, "Yes, in a nutshell. What if I told you that the Golden Apples my family grow are dependant on a... certain artificial god's blessing?"
A certain artificial God? There's only one man-made god in existence and the Fifty Wisemen own it. The same one that all modern magic is dependent on, too.
This conversation was getting pretty big, even for me. No, it was already out of my league — I just didn't want to admit it. I was hearing something beyond even my wildest dreams right now and didn't want it to end.
"I'd tell you to speak in a much, much lower voice. The type of stuff you were talking about could get me thrown in a nameless ditch in the middle of nowhere tomorrow."
"...Well, it's the truth. Golden Apples can't grow without some 'external assistance', which is why a secret batch of my family's apples is always sent to a group of fifty powerful fellows. But my family doesn't want to do that anymore."
Ohhhhhh? Ain't that a bitch? The LeDeloux family wants out of the deal they have with the Fifty Wisemen?
Why?
"Shouldn't these two entities be good friends since they both need each other? Can't farm them apples without the 'external assistance' and the other side needs the apples to stave away the clock hand of fate."
It made complete sense that they needed each other, so why has their relationship gone sour?
"Because it's never been a healthy relationship. They joined forces out of necessity, but now that will quickly no longer be the case. The fifty old men have always coveted our Golden Trees as my family has desired the tremendous power they possess with their... creation."
I unconsciously swallowed a breath of cold air. What she spoke of was mind-numbing. The implication buried within her response had left me wondering whether I'd live to witness something biblical in the making.
"...A-Am I to believe in what you're implying about your family? ...That they've started to meddle with the workings of heaven, just like the fifty old men?"
My heart had already gone berserk in terror as I tried my hardest to remain composed. But the raw fear was too much to handle, even for me.
The first time the Fifty Wisemen tried to create a God for themselves, Masulan lost its seventh continent. Nothing was spared in the resulting reality-crushing implosion.
It had been such an enormous loss of life that even now, the world has still not recovered completely. Mana storms bigger than category-5 hurricanes still envelop that area permanently as of today.
Helan is nothing more than a wretched void of life where the sea has turned an ominous shade of crimson.
...Almost as if the planet itself was bleeding out from a gaping wound.
"Y-You have to be lying. Such a thing would go against international law and the Helain Promise every country made after the loss Helan," I blurted out.
"Do you really think the family that holds the world at gunpoint has to follow anyone's orders?" said Lyla with a torn expression and added, "A single Golden Apple to keep Death away; A single Golden Apple to keep the Sheep at bay..."
She was absolutely right, despite my feelings. It was the truth. None could deny the LeDeloux family was untouchable.
"My family seeks independence from the Fifty Wisemen. To break the truce and seize the world for themselves, once and for all. And for this to succeed, they need to complete their long-standing plan to... birth their own God."
...Birth? Not 'create'? There was something obviously off about her explanation and I feared to know the truth.
"Please don't tell me it's what I'm thinking about. You cannot be fucking serious."
I refused to believe it until I heard the words come out of her own mouth.
"...It's easier to create life the natural way, than have it be born in an artificial sleeve, no? At least, that's what my family has concluded. Hence... my birth.
An improved replacement for the prototype they lost. A precious investment that cannot be calculated with money, time, or resources — a holy virgin genetically destined to give birth to a living demigod."
For the longest time, I couldn't even begin to formulate a single word to say. It sounded so far-fetched, macabre, and removed from reality that my brain had refused to acknowledge what it had heard in defiance.
"Did you know that I was edited to possess human genes in order to improve my reproductive ability? High Elves can take multiple centuries to conceive, after all. And my gene donors — my parents — were selected on the basis of their Ancient Blessings?
I have so many Ancient Blessings, I could have slain the Demon Lord with my bare hands had I been born half a millennium ago. But they're nothing more than a 'safeguard' for my sake now."
"...Safeguard?"
"So I don't die while I'm pregnant. Or during childbirth. Can't have the incubator break before it delivers the product, you see."
That was probably the most chilling thing I've ever heard, bar none. Were it not for the fact that I had offered my help, I would have already ended this conversation right now.
"Please kill me. I don't want to give birth to a monster for some unknown man. I don't want to help my family start a world war, so, please complete my request."
I could not detect any malice or hesitation in her eyes. She was resolved to die and had likely already made peace with her death.
Her eyes had an imperial aura about them that reminded me of some else, if only a little bit. They were still worlds apart, but that minor resemblance was enough to cast her in a different light for me.
And before I knew it, I had already made my decision.
"Can't you feign your death? You know, go off-grid and disappear? I'm sure that'd work, so just—"
Lyla smiled when she heard my alternative and said, "They'd hunt me down forever; High Elves are connected to the planet, it'd be child's play for another High Elf to find me. And I couldn't do that because I'd be damning my younger sister to my fate instead."
"Younger sister?"
"My spare. Only a year younger than me. She's in the Elysian Fields right now, probably unaware of all this. My plan is to sever her connection to the planet after I die and have you take her somewhere safe."
Ohhhhh man. She's out of her fucking mind. What she's asking for is too much, even if I got every Golden Tree the LeDeloux family had.
Absolutely preposterous. Nothing more than a wild delusion run amok from a girl on death row.
I can't. I literally cannot help her if that's what she wanted from me.
Not me. Not as I am right now.
...But there was someone who might've been able to tackle a request like this in the past. There was hope, but the thread was so weak and thin it could be argued that it was not there at all.
Even so, it was better than her ludicrous idea. If we were going to go ahead with this, then my idea was miles better than hers.
"What would you say if I told you that I once met someone like you? But she was free of whatever connection you were chained to?"
"I'd tell you to check into a mental ward. That isn't possible. High Elves are born connected to the planet and the only way to break that connection is through—"
"You aren't the first High Elf I've met, you know."
Lyla's thin eyebrows furrowed and she said, "You're lying."
"Stellafum velaito nogh' invalario, mal astrea."
There is beauty in truth and wisdom, my princess.
It'd been a while since I'd spoken High Elvish, so I was worried if I'd gotten something wrong, but that didn't seem to be the case from her expression.
"You'll have to excuse my janky accent. I've only been able to practice my High Elvish with one person, after all. I don't know if that sounded awful or not..."
I had once regretted asking her to teach me High Elvish because she was a terrifying teacher, but I couldn't deny she was efficient.
...It used to a language for the two of us. One that'd we use to speak in private, but now it was nothing more than a vestige of a painful past.
Lyla's current expression was worth it, though. Her jaw seemed like it would've hit the floor had she not realized how much I enjoyed her reaction.
"S-So you've met another High Elf... and she taught you how to speak High Elvish? I... How..."
"Taught me how to read it and write it, too. And taught me how to fight. How to shoot. How to hunt. Almost everything I know is something I learned from her."
And I was proud of that. Thankful for it as well, despite how things turned out. I wouldn't change my decisions even if I was given a second chance.
Because that'd mean I would never meet her.
"...It sounds like she means a lot to you," said Lyla in a low voice.
"She does... but I don't think the feeling's mutual," I responded.
I lifted up my leg, showed my shackle to her and said, "If she really cared about me, I wouldn't be wearing this right now. ...But that's life, right? You win some and you lose some. It's all evened out in the end."
I felt that Lyla wanted to pursue the topic further, but I had no intention of doing that so I moved the conversation back on track to what I was gunning for.
"If there's anyone you can free you and your sister, it's my old boss. I mean, she's off-grid and has been in the Underworld longer I can possibly guess. I suggest we start with her first before we decide to go guns blazing with your plan, mmkay?"
A solid suggestion, if I do say so myself. Rather than embrace death, why not cling onto a thread of hope instead? Hell, anything's better than giving up.
Lyla's face went through a myriad of contortions as she contemplated my offer, so I decided to add the cherry onto top to win her over.
"Look, if things go south, I'll still help you out. I'm the one that offered in the first place, so don't think I'll back out last-second. I am a professional, even if my wings have been clipped."
So I uttered the only lie I wish I hadn't said in my life and whispered, "I'll kill you if it comes down to it, princess. It's a promise. Cross my heart."
A bad move on my behalf... considering the state of my heart.
But what was done had already been set in stone.
That evening, Lyla LeDeloux and I struck a deal and set ourselves on a path of mutual destruction against the world.
Though I couldn't have possibly known that would have happened because of a single lie. That was beyond the likes of me and in the territory of... God.