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Translator: uly
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Fortune Teller Shop Opens (3)
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"Impossible."
My words made all three of their eyes widen in surprise.
"Why is that?"
"Heh heh..."
Trying to give a complicated explanation made my head throb.
"First off, your wife's spirit isn't here, old man. She's probably gone to the world of the dead by now."
"What...? She's not somewhere else?"
"Hm... The chances of that are slim."
"Is there no way to call her back from the world of the dead? No... That would make you no different from necromancers."
There was indeed a shaman ritual to summon the departed.
But it was impossible in this world.
There was a day when the gates to the world of the dead opened.
A day called the Opening of the Celestial Gates. The problem was that this occurred on a fixed schedule.
The calendar and dates from my original world were useless here.
It wasn't even certain if this world had such a day.
I had to explain all this...
"Hm... How should I put this..."
The three of them waited for me to speak.
"It's a global issue, so I can't say for sure."
"A global issue?"
I wasn't joking—right now, there was no way to summon the departed.
Even if called, they might not come.
If they had no lingering attachments or had already been reborn.
Or if they'd gone to hell, they couldn't come here.
"And calling back a departed soul that's already left isn't a good thing anyway."
"What if she misses us and wants to see us?"
The only reason a departed soul could stay in the living world was emotions far stronger than mere longing.
Wasn't there a saying?
'I miss you so much it's become a grudge.' Or like in dramas and movies, 'My only regret is not killing you.' Something on that level was needed to remain as a ghost in the living world.
"What did Rosel say? He said it couldn't be done. Let's drop it."
"Urgh..."
"If it's a bond that reaches even after death, it will. Whether you like it or not, so give it up."
"That's true..."
Surprisingly, Closel and Parmon seemed to accept it easily.
The count stared at me with an unreadable expression, though.
"No helping it, then."
Seeing him give up so readily, I nodded.
That was the right attitude.
Sometimes people threw tantrums demanding to meet the departed.
They'd get an earful from Master and get kicked out, though.
A brief silence fell, and then the count looked at me and spoke.
"To be honest, I still can't trust you fully."
"Hey now... Ramon doesn't lie about things like this."
"But Father... Dealing with spirits feels just like..."
The count's sharp eyes turned to me.
"Just like... what necromancers do, doesn't it?"
"Heh heh..."
"Of course I trust Ramon's word, but with matters like this, we need certainty."
I couldn't hide my discomfort at the count's suspicious gaze.
From what I heard, he suspected me of being a necromancer...
It was extremely unpleasant.
Comparing me, who resolved the grudges of the departed, to necromancers who toyed with them.
I was so flabbergasted I couldn't speak.
"Tch..."
I clicked my tongue briefly, and the count gave me a displeased look.
Of course—in this world, a commoner clicking their tongue in front of a count was unthinkable.
Regardless of the count's reaction, I turned my eyes to Closel and began examining him closely.
"Hm..."
Clearly, tremendous luck was clinging to him thickly.
And it was definitely his.
Fortuitous luck, perhaps.
The important thing was I couldn't identify its source.
"Closel, old man."
"Hm? What is it?"
"Anything you're hiding?"
"Hm?"
"If there is, pull it all out."
There was definitely something.
If I couldn't even spot this, my talents would weep.
"Hm..."
I looked again, but the source remained elusive.
The connection divined by the gods was clear, but what were they divining him toward?
In cases like this, a shaman had a duty to connect them.
That was why fortuitous luck came as compensation.
"This is strange..."
The problem was that the 'what' refused to reveal itself.
It wasn't about meeting his deceased wife...
Before I knew it, I stood and approached Closel, inspecting his entire body closely.
Unconsciously gripping my rattle.
"Where is it..."
Was my blatant inspection rude?
The count shot to his feet and shouted.
"The more I watch, the more insolent you are! How dare you to Father...!"
"Ah, hold on a sec. I'm almost there—don't distract me... tch."
"What?"
The more I examined Closel, the stronger one image became.
A glowing blue gem.
An intensely vivid image, as if right before my eyes.
"Old man, I keep seeing a blue gem. Got anything like that?"
"Hm? A gem?"
"Hey!"
The count kept irritating me at this crucial moment.
"Ah, seriously... You're distracting me."
Before the count trying to stop me could touch me.
My hand untied the pouch at Closel's waist.
"Here it is."
As I held the pouch, the gem's shape sharpened in my mind.
The energy flow felt off, too.
It resembled a barrier—probably magic.
"Heh heh... Hey, that's not something anyone can just use. Only the owner can... What?"
I felt Closel's surprised gaze.
My arm had slipped right into the small pouch.
A sub-space pouch, like from novels?
"Hm... Not this..."
The count's face flushed red as he approached, but he stopped at Closel's glance.
His eyes full of curiosity and wonder—my actions had defied common sense again.
Swish—
"Hm..."
Swish—
The pouch's interior was vast.
No matter how I swung my arm, I couldn't feel the end.
As I fumbled through the items, my fingertips touched something cold.
"This is it."
Shloop.
What emerged matched the image in my head perfectly—a blue gem.
But seeing it in my hand, my expression hardened.
"No... That is..."
Before Closel could finish, I had to ask.
"Old man, where did you get this?"
The icy chill from the gem.
The cold permeating my body.
It felt just like touching a grudge-filled ghost.
And at the intense image flashing in my mind, I groaned.
"Urgh...!!!"
"What's wrong?"
"Chris, you alright?"
Closel and Parmon's voices reached my ears.
But I had no time to process them.
Scenes flooded my mind.
Vivid, painful memories as if I'd lived them myself.
"Urgh... Th-this is..."
Innumerable people crowded the city walls.
Old folks and children not even grown yet were mixed in.
All wielding swords and arrows, fighting.
"Ahh..."
"Chris!! Are you okay?"
"You!! That gem is...!"
Closel and Parmon's voices overlapped.
Exactly matching the voices in my head.
- Slash the beasts! This is the castle we must defend!
- Magic corps, squeeze out every drop of mana!
Screamed in desperation.
The responses tore from throats like blood.
Even with arms severed, throats slit, their eyes faced outward.
Ting-a-ling—
A rattle sound amid it all.
Or was it from my hand now?
Hard to tell.
The emotions from those scenes were that vivid.
"Urgh..."
My body jolted up on its own.
Like before thunder struck during a ritual.
No—back then I was exhilarated; now my whole body ached.
Severed arms throbbed, torn legs numbed.
Ting-a-ling—
"Gah...!"
"Hey...!!!"
Parmon and Closel's emotions from the visions swirled.
Heart tearing at subordinates dying before their eyes, cursing their own hearts for failing magic.
- I'll protect you all!
Parmon's shout shook my throat as if I screamed it.
And the response burst from my mouth.
- Don't protect me! I'll die with it!
"Don't protect me! I'll die with it!"
"Cr... Chris?"
Now Closel's voice rang in my head.
- We must block that flame!
The response exploded.
- Count! We'll throw our hearts!
"Count! We'll throw our hearts!"
Closel suddenly realized something and spoke in alarm.
"That is...!"
All stemmed from the gem in my hand.
The vibration in my palm matched the rattle trembling in my other hand.
Ting-a-ling—
The sound rang out without shaking it.
Just like when I first found the rattle.
And now, with these scenes, it was clear.
Shamans grasp the god-seat during rituals.
And they all say the same.
'I'm possessed by the divine.'
From it, they feel the path forward and the connected god's will.
And now, I felt the divine possession—and wielded it.
Ting-a-ling—
My body leaped skyward.
This dance-like, non-dance sensation—I did it, yet it wasn't me.
All the scenes pointed to one place.
"Ahh...!"
In it, I knew.
That was where my shrine would be built.
"...You okay?"
To the quiet question, I opened my mouth, the aftertaste lingering.
"Closel, old man. Where did you pick up this gem?"