"Bigmouth, will you swallow this as well?"
"Grrr…"
Within the confines of Merlin's grand mansion library, Oliver strolled alongside Bigmouth, collecting medical manuscripts, volumes on life sciences, and writings authored by Theodore.
All these resources were destined for Oliver's research paper, and Merlin graciously permitted him to borrow any books he required.
"Is its name Bigmouth? It's quite the glutton."
Merlin, who had observed in silence, finally chimed in.
"Yes, it's Bigmouth."
"It seems a bit down, doesn't it? Or is it just me imagination?"
"No, it's actually feeling down."
Oliver responded, his gaze fixed upon the despondent Bigmouth.
He couldn't quite grasp why it felt this way. All he had mentioned was the impending duel against another glutton bag, and a rather disadvantageous one at that, with odds stacked at 2 to 1.
"This is the last one, Bigmouth. Please."
As Oliver presented a paper on cell transplantation and construction authored by Theodore, Bigmouth shot him a disdainful glance and begrudgingly swallowed the paper with its protruding mouth, then abruptly shrunk in size.
Oliver carefully folded the shrunken Bigmouth and secured it in the leather case on his back.
"Thank you for letting me borrow the books, Elder."
"If you're gonna pen down a paper, you should borrow 'em. Had no clue you were actually here to grab some books."
"Why would you think that?"
"I reckoned you dropped by to shoot a bunch of questions 'cause you mentioned that oath by the lake."
"Ah… yes, that's part of it too."
"Just as I figured. Life doesn't always pan out as planned. So, what's tickling your curiosity?"
Rather than deflecting the question, Merlin went straight to the heart of the matter. Oliver couldn't be certain, but it seemed as though Merlin had made up his mind about something.
"Firstly, may I ask where Mr. Theodore is buried?"
In response to the question, Merlin pointed towards a window on one side of the library. In the mansion's garden, a modest grave could be seen. A small, unassuming tombstone lay beneath a mound of fresh snow, its surface adorned with ice crystals.
"It looks cold."
"Exactly. Works a treat for both me and me mate."
A self-deprecating remark. Oliver understood the reason behind Merlin's words; he had once lived a life akin to Theodore's.
‘And he quit abruptly after becoming an Archiver…'
"Why do you ask where Theodore is buried?"
"I was curious… Also, he said something that's been bothering me."
Oliver turned his attention to Merlin, recalling the moment when Theodore's hand had pierced through his body.
"Elder, do you know what the ‘entities beyond this world' are?"
Upon hearing the question, Merlin paused briefly before responding.
"… Literally, they're entities that exist beyond the human realm. Unknown entities."
"What kind of unknown entities?"
"The likes of spirits, angels, demons… or things that sprout from 'em, at least as far as I know."
"As far as you know?"
"Yes. They're all rare and difficult to understand, so I wouldn't dare to easily define 'em. But why do you ask?"
"Mr. Theodore said that I'm an entity beyond this world… To be precise, he thought so when he tried to absorb me."
Once again, Merlin fell into silence. As always, his emotions remained concealed behind a thick veil of mana, making them inscrutable. However, for some reason, he didn't appear particularly surprised.
As if he had been aware all along. Consequently, Oliver continued to speak.
"He said I possess all the blessings that a human could not dream of having. He wanted to use me to overcome the curse of aging and death and to win against the apocalypse."
"How did ya feel when ya heard that?"
"When the broker I was dealing with and Professor Kevin said that my value was equivalent to that of a medium-sized enterprise, it felt similar."
"Are you saying you were happy?"
"No. I didn't understand what they were saying. I've never thought of myself as such an extraordinary entity… I just couldn't relate to it. Even when I tried to, I couldn't."
Oliver spoke with absolute sincerity.
Oliver had never forgotten his origins as an orphan who had to toil in a mine.
He was an orphan who had learned to evade the supervisor's scrutiny, hunch down like a bug to avoid the blows of his fellow laborers, work diligently to avoid conflicts, and even consume his meager bowl of soup in solitude just to survive.
Perhaps that's why.
Why Oliver found it hard to be intrigued by himself but was instead drawn to other matters.
How could he muster interest in an existence that had become ordinary?
After all, the privileges he presently enjoyed were not due to any inherent extraordinariness but rather the fortuitous talent he had been born with.
Without this talent, no matter how much he pondered, Oliver considered himself unremarkable.
"Do ya really think so?"
"Yes, Elder. Isn't it solely because of my talent that I was able to leave the mine, become a solver, and become your temporary disciple? Unlike my master, or Mr. Duncan, or Mr. Shamus, I don't have anything intense about me after I came out into the world. I'm just curious… I can't think of myself as anything extraordinary."
Merlin remained silent. He may have been mistaken, but he sensed a profound emptiness and sorrow, one that evoked pity.
Oliver inquired once more.
"Are the ‘son of an angel' and ‘prince of hell' mentioned in the eschatology also entities beyond this world?"
"It would be. They are not entities belonging to the human realm."
"So, am I related to this eschatology?"
"Why do ya think that?"
"Well… since you helped me in Mattel and took me as a disciple, it felt like that."
"Perhaps there is a slight relation."
***
Merlin proceeded to say,
‘[The moment a gigantic hole appears at the end of the world, the clock starts ticking…] This is the first chapter of the eschatology. And that hole opened when you and I fought.'
Oliver recalled the time when he had battled Merlin in the icy terrain after rescuing Rosbane and the children from Mattel.
He remembered being overwhelmed by Merlin's superior power.
Merlin had asserted that human worth was determined by power, and although Oliver disagreed, he had lit a Pilgaret to align with that perspective.
He couldn't recall anything beyond that point, but according to Merlin, the gates of hell had briefly opened during that encounter.
‘Did I open it?'
‘Yes, it opened because you extracted and used your emotions. A very large one at that…'
‘Um… I don't know what to say. Really.'
‘It's a normal reaction. I also didn't know what to say after cleaning up the aftermath. The first line of the eschatology that the predecessor Archivers investigated started in my time, and I didn’t have any thoughts about it.'
‘So, do I have any relation to this eschatology?'
‘Well, there's no sayin' for sure. The prophecy, eschatology, is too large and complex for humans to fully comprehend. Humans are like ants in a massive contraption, not havin' a clue who the main players are, who's just in the wings, or who's on the chopping block. So, we can't jump the gun. There are few folks claimin' to be the Prince of Hell, and there are several speculated individuals as well. The same goes for the son of an angel…'
‘Who is the son of an angel?'
‘That is—'
"—Aghhh! Focus! Focus!”
While Oliver momentarily drifted into memories of a past conversation, First, who had entered Corpse doll-Bathory, let out a piercing scream that snapped Oliver back to reality.
Regaining his focus, Oliver offered an apology to First and redirected his attention to the aquarium before him.
This specially ordered aquarium, acquired through the black market, contained a concoction of a substantial amount of blood, life force, and a small portion of potion. Suspended in this crimson solution was the decapitated body of a nude woman.
The identity of the lifeless figure was none other than Corpse doll, a female warlock who had been Bathory's disciple.
Oliver was currently conducting experiments on the female warlock as part of the process leading up to grafting Theodore's flesh onto Duncan.
To perform this operation, he employed Ptah's Assistant, a mana-based mechanical hand.
"Looking back, I'm really lucky," Oliver mused as he operated the magically powered mechanical hand.
The mechanical hand, with its needle-thin fingers, delicately incised the female warlock's body to facilitate the cellular-level grafting of Theodore's flesh.
While he hadn't been able to secure Theodore's main body, he had managed to salvage high-quality material at the very last moment when Theodore's body had disintegrated, even though it wasn't as abundant as the primary body.
One might truly call this a stroke of good luck.
"Moreover, the amount isn’t even small," Oliver remarked, gazing at the sizable chunks of flesh preserved within a massive tank mounted on one wall.
The amount of flesh was significant enough to create an entire person and still have some left over for transplantation onto Duncan.
"The problem is how to utilize what’s left," Oliver pondered.
Specifically, he contemplated how to utilize the fragments of Theodore's flesh.
In the past, he had haphazardly grafted Theodore's flesh onto Bathory and Shamus, believing that adding something beneficial would improve their conditions. However, through his research and scholarly work, he had come to realize that this wasn't always the case.
In the instance of Corpse doll-Duncan, the vast disparities in the quality of their flesh implied that significant functional enhancements could be anticipated through grafting.
On the contrary, it remained uncertain whether Bathory and Shamus, who had already reached their limits, would attain such high effectiveness.
"Also, compatibility is an issue. Since Lady Bathory is a warlock, there might not be a rejection reaction to Mr. Theodore’s flesh, but Mr. Shamus might be different…"
As Oliver continued the procedure, he reflected upon the contents of Theodore's research papers.
According to these papers, cellular synergy could manifest based on cell properties, but they also cautioned that conflicting properties could result in functional degradation or unexpected side effects.
‘Um… For now, shall I observe the condition of the Corpse doll—female warlock, before deciding?'
Oliver resolved this as he completed the grafting of Theodore's flesh.
The mana-fueled mechanical hand, operating from four different angles, concluded its task and meticulously sutured the Corpse doll—female warlock. Oliver then signaled to First, which stood nearby.
Upon receiving the signal, First, which had inhabited Bathory, manipulated a lever connected to the aquarium, injecting additional liquefied life force into the blood solution.
Bubbles began to surface as copious amounts of liquefied life force mixed with the blood solution. First, using blood magic, melded the blood solution and life force together.
The blood solution was already saturated with an excess of life force, making further mixing a challenge. Nonetheless, Bathory's exceptional blood magic abilities made the impossible possible, elevating the blood solution's functionality beyond its normal limits.
Within this blood solution, Corpse doll- female warlock, absorbed the surging life force throughout her body. What had once been a lifeless corpse briefly sprang to life, assimilating Theodore's grafted flesh as her own.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
