The Outer God Needs Warmth

Chapter 16

Hieronymus paused upon hearing my greeting. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he assessed the situation.

“Yes, Lady Rebecca. I was concerned about how you’ve been faring, so I came to see you.”

Huh? Shouldn’t he be asking who I met with and what was discussed? Is he pretending not to know, or is this some coordinated effort between him and Andrew to test me?

So, I don’t bother with lies. I only answer what I’m asked.

Today marks the fifth day.

Between Hieronymus and me, there’s only one contract.

And that’s it.

So, I simply stared at him. For what felt like five minutes, though it was probably only a minute in reality, I looked directly at him. Then, I broke the silence with a question.

“Where is the warmth?”

What else would I ask for? Food? My goals are simple. Plans? I have none. Other knowledge? I don’t possess any. From his perspective, I truly know nothing.

I simply arrived here and started craving warmth. Beyond that, the only other thing I’ve done is grant blessings.

Though, admittedly, I did make a mistake.

Joanna was the first source of warmth I fed on. But I created the harvester mechanism to try something different.

Now, however, Hieronymus must know.

He must realize that blessing someone and feeding on warmth are entirely different acts.

He’s likely figured out that I am not the being he hoped I would be. If something were to happen, Joanna would probably be the first person he’d suspect.

How inconvenient.

In hindsight, it’s my own mistake.

Had I simply consumed even low-grade warmth from Joanna, there would have been no reason for him to doubt me.

But no, if I had done that, I wouldn’t have discovered the concept of blessings.

Hmm. If I weigh risk against potential, this outcome is better. Back then, I didn’t know I could grant blessings to others.

If I’d been content merely feeding on warmth, I wouldn’t have been able to secure five more sources of warmth.

Hehe.

“Please wait just a bit longer. I will bring it to you as soon as it is ready.”

He bowed his head. When he does that, his expression is obscured. But when he raised his head again, I noticed it—faint but unmistakable traces of disgust lingering on his face.

Of course.

Humans are naturally repulsed by creatures that eat their own kind. It’s only fitting to either lock them away in zoos or eradicate them entirely before shedding crocodile tears about how things shouldn’t have gone that way.

You ask if I’m a beast?

Yes. I’ve become a beast that feeds on humans. So what? You wonder what happened to my humanity?

It froze.

So let’s set aside these dull facts for now and focus on what matters: securing warmth.

“Yes, I understand.”

I responded simply. I asked for what I wanted, and that hasn’t changed. Honestly, it’s a shame. Between Andrew and Hieronymus, I’d love to give a blessing to at least one of them.

Then I could observe how they interact with one another—or at least enjoy watching one of them while the tension builds.

The battlefield’s fog is thick indeed.

Navigating it blindly in search of warmth is, in its own way, quite enjoyable, isn’t it?

And there are plenty of embers ready to be stoked.

For example, there’s Wide, who is passionately spreading my name, essentially evangelizing for me. Right now, he’s flaunting his power in a gathering of devout warriors. Many people idolize him and believe they, too, can receive such a blessing.

Then there’s Tistha, who longs to escape this cult. If he ever manages to break free, I’m sure he’ll one day launch a satisfying attack on Future Hope Sect. Though that’s likely a distant future. For now, he’s focused entirely on honing his abilities.

Next, there’s Andrew, though he’s still uncertain. There’s about a fifty-fifty chance he’s on bad terms with Hieronymus. Given how hastily Hieronymus rushed here, the odds might tilt slightly in favor of tension between them.@@@@

And I’ve also considered the possibility that Andrew somehow evaded or disrupted Hieronymus’s surveillance—whether by cutting off the sound or freezing the visuals. That’s a thought I’ve tucked away in the corner of my mind.

“Well then, I’ll take my leave now. Should anything come up, you may contact me through Joanna.”

Her tone was unusually subdued compared to her usual excitable voice.

“Even going so far as to prepare this veil? That’s unlike you to be so thorough.”

“Haha, even with this, I’m still anxious. I don’t want to believe it either, but there’s something you need to know.”

Hyungkeshni raised her head, looking Yasle directly in the eyes as she spoke.

“I told you before, didn’t I? That thing, we call it Krssaksshibal.”

“Yes, why? Have you discovered it’s not what we thought?”

At Yasle’s question, Hyungkeshni shook her head as if recalling her initial impression. Right, back when they first encountered it, she had thought it was a beast from the extradimensional void—or a creature from the world of nothingness.

Yet what they had assumed was nothing more than a simple monster.

A beast like the wicked wolf from stories—a creature that devours misbehaving children.

But the being before them was no small monster. Compared to this, the malevolent wolf of stories, a harbinger of death, seemed like nothing more than a puppy.

“It wasn’t a monster, Yasle,” Hyungkeshni murmured.

“Krssaksshibal is a god, though,” Yasle replied.

“The kind of god you speak of—something powerful, wise, and immense—but still ultimately a creature that can be hunted.”

Indeed, gods could be hunted. The cult of Eternal Soul once attacked primitive tribes, slaying their gods and introducing them to civilization.

They brought people into the embrace of righteous deities, leaving behind monstrous beings that demanded human sacrifices—replacing them with gods devoted solely to human salvation.

The arrow that had once blown apart Rebecca’s face and the sword that severed the head of a transformed sacrifice were crafted with techniques meant to slay gods.

“But this is different. A god, yes. It is a god. But the scale is incomprehensibly larger—like comparing a grain of sand to a mountain of boulders. Shall I put it in simpler terms?”

Hyungkeshni leaned her staff against the wall, seemingly lost in thought.

“It’s not an evil god. It doesn’t concern itself with good or evil. And it’s certainly not a god of death. As a necromancer, I can state with certainty that it has nothing to do with death.”

Yasle couldn’t help but interject.

“A monster that demands warmth from its victims isn’t a god of death?”

“Think again. Has it ever created the dead? When it consumed the warmth of the sacrifice, the victim became a monster, not a corpse.”

Hyungkeshni’s words brought Yasle back to the memory of that day. He had brought two of his strongest warriors to escort a kidnapped human deemed suitable.

The warmth was drained, and the human became a monster—but they were undeniably alive. Had they not been preemptively killed, they would have fully transformed.

“When something vital is taken, they fall to a similar state. That’s the kind of being it is. But among the gods I know, there’s nothing quite like it.”

As Hyungkeshni explained, there were no words in their world to define Rebecca’s nature. She created a term herself.

“Let’s call it an outsider. A god from beyond—the void, where only rules exist, from where nothingness originates.”

“Is that what we should call her? An outsider god?”

Hyungkeshni nodded slowly.

“That’s as simplified as I can make it. Even then, it’s been stripped of all essential information and left as an empty shell. Something we can barely comprehend within the confines of what we call a ‘god.’”

Hyungkeshni chuckled, suppressing a laugh that bordered on hysteria. The only one who could recognize her laughter as rooted in fear was Rebecca herself.

“Be cautious, Yasle. This is genuine advice.”

For once, Yasle could tell Hyungkeshni’s warning was sincere. And that baffled him. She usually relished in new and frightening discoveries, taking joy in learning things that might terrify others. Why was she, of all people, urging such restraint?

“An outsider god. Fine. A powerful deity is useful for vengeance. I suppose I’ve truly become a heretic.”

Hyungkeshni stared at Yasle with dark, despair-filled eyes. Though despair was her default state, there was something even heavier in her gaze this time.

She thought back to her conversation with Rebecca, forcing herself to suppress the rising terror. As she replayed their exchange over and over, a faint sense of the truth began to surface.

It wasn’t a powerful god. That kind of logic didn’t apply. She swallowed her words, knowing she couldn’t explain it further.

And so, she could only repeat her plea.

“Be careful, Yasle.”

Her misfortune was having someone who didn’t truly know her standing before her.

“But Hyungkeshni,” Yasle said, “you contacted the outsider without my permission. That’s grounds for punishment. Go and discern what kind of being this outsider truly is.”

For Yasle, this was almost an act of kindness. If she found such a terrifying existence so enjoyable, then she could experience both the terror and the thrill. It was a punishment and a reward rolled into one.

Unaware that it was the cruelest punishment of all, Yasle forced her to comply despite her reluctance.

“You’re a cursed bastard,” Hyungkeshni spat.

“Thank you for the compliment.”

The dark veil surrounding them dissipated. Hyungkeshni trudged off like a cow being led to slaughter, casting a glance at Yasle as he resumed walking toward his destination.

“Hieronymus.”

“What is it?” he replied.

“It was Andrew who disrupted your magic, you fool.”

Hyungkeshni smirked at Yasle’s startled reaction before continuing toward Rebecca’s quarters.

Though the command she’d been given was dreadful, Hyungkeshni couldn’t deny that understanding the outsider god was necessary.

That day, many hearts were conflicted.