Chapter 1
Somewhere in a forest within the Dark Lands, beneath thick black clouds where not even a single ray of sunlight could reach.
Five men had gathered around the corpse of a demonic beast hidden among the bushes.
One was the client, three were his subordinates, and the last was a butcher.
Squelch!
Several rotten wooden logs had been piled beside the corpse to form a small altar.
The believer who had commissioned the butchering raised his head and gave a crooked smile.
Lying on top of the altar was a living sacrifice.
A human.
Squelch! Squelch!
It was the sound of slime dripping from the limp mass of flesh and striking the blunt tool below.
The butcher skillfully moved his knife between the uneven pieces of bone, separating only the edible parts.
A dark bluish piece of meat had been set aside.
An awful stench rose from it—one that no ordinary meat should ever produce.
After finishing the deboning, the butcher let out a short sigh and held out his hand.
"Eight hundred and eighty grams. Pay me in silver."
"Hmm. Good work."
The butcher accepted the two silver coins handed over by his client and rose to his feet.
Click.
Click, click.
Click-click, click.
The sound came from above them.
A man had both arms and legs tied tightly to a thick tree trunk.
His teeth kept chattering as he desperately tried to deny the end of his life.
What exactly had gone wrong?
Had it been his mistake to recklessly enter the Dark Lands after being tempted by false rumors?
Had it been because he ignored the expedition's rules and left the sanctuary alone at such a late hour?
Or perhaps it was because he had fallen into a trap meant for demonic beasts and ended up inconveniencing these people who specialized in slaughtering and processing monsters.
Whatever the reason, the man didn't want to die.
And so his entire body trembled.
But all he received in return were several indifferent gazes.
The butcher pointed at the sacrifice with his right hand.
"Wouldn't it be fine if I took apart the thigh and brought it with me?"
"He's not a preferred breed."
"Depends on how you process it. We could even disguise it and sell it."
"I suppose we could, but there's no reason to put unnecessary damage on an offering meant for a god. Leave him alone."
"...Well, if you're that insistent."
As the conversation seemed to be reaching its end, the tied man desperately shouted.
"W-Wait! If you're going to spare me anyway, could you please get me down from—!"
"No, no. That's not it."
Thud.
Using levitation magic, the client rose onto the altar and covered the man's mouth.
The long-haired elf gently stroked his hair before shaking his head.
"Didn't I already tell you? You're an offering."
His smile widened.
"Do you truly not understand that Lord Dagon specially granted us today's offering through you, after we nearly lost it?"
"M-Mmph!"
"As one of His believers, I must naturally offer something in gratitude."
"It is the very least I can give in return for such grace. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
"Every choice comes with responsibility."
The elf's smile turned cold.
"Even for a lowly creature such as yourself, I pray that divine grace will descend upon you."
Those were the final words he gave the sacrifice.
The elf—the client and believer—smiled unpleasantly and activated fire magic.
Flames responded to the pulse of mana and bloomed from his fingertips.
They spread across the altar.
Except for the butcher, all four men stared into the flames with madness in their eyes as they began to mutter.
The words leaving their mouths were prayers of worship.
"Our Father Dagon, who lives eternally, dreams and waits within His dwelling in Y'ha-nthlei..."
"Oh, our glorious Father, overflowing with desire!"
"Innsmouth is near! Innsmouth is near!"
"We await the day you take us to the paradise of the Deep Ones, O Dagon!"
They shouted at the top of their lungs, spraying saliva everywhere.
None of them noticed that a new visitor had arrived at the altar.
Then—
Sssss...
About twenty meters away, on the opposite side.
Something slowly emerged between the tightly packed trees.
It was a gigantic tentacle.
Its surface gleamed with a dark, deep-blue light.
BOOOOOOM!
Without warning, the tentacle slammed its massive body down and crushed the altar together with the flames burning upon it.
"Kugh?!"
"W-Who's there?!"
The pile of wood exploded in every direction, shattered into pieces.
The flames covering it quickly died out.
Crackle. Crackle.
Someone casually stepped on the remaining embers and extinguished them.
Then a man walked toward them.
A worn-out black cloak, so old and torn that it could hardly serve its original purpose, fluttered behind him.
The man's face resembled that of the human who had nearly become a sacrifice.
Behind him, the enormous tentacle trembled excitedly, almost as though delighted to encounter prey after such a long time.
Thick fluid dripped from its surface.
The world had reached its end.
No.
Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that life had arrogantly forced its way into a world where destruction had already existed from the very beginning.
This land had belonged to demonic beasts since the dawn of creation.
There had never been a place here for other intelligent species.
And yet, the intelligent races stubbornly kept their will to survive alive.
Eventually, they succeeded in building their own civilizations.
Sapiens.
Dwarves.
Elves.
Weretypes.
Although they had arrived on this land at different times, they eventually encountered the same enemy through their long struggles.
And so they joined forces to overcome the one absolute truth hanging over them all.
Destruction.
To uncover the secrets of the world.
To achieve liberation.
They willingly threw themselves into the darkness.
They entered the territory of the beings that had driven them toward death, searching desperately for the truth.
Yesterday.
Today.
And tomorrow.
They would continue sending expeditions.
Toward Karaam.
The holy land of all gods.
And the very heart of the Dark Lands.
"..."
Was that how the setting went? Probably.
Yohan Blake stared indifferently at the elves who had arrogantly tried to oppose him, only to be reduced into lumps of flesh.
For a moment, he recalled memories so old that they had almost completely faded away.
This world was strangely similar to a game he had once enjoyed.
He had supposedly been summoned into this world as its savior.
The companions summoned alongside him had all lost their lives during their brutal struggles.
...None of that felt particularly special to Yohan anymore.
Everything alive had withered beneath the passage of time.
And all that remained was this cursed body—
Along with his soul, which continued to collapse with each passing life.
[It means there isn't much time left.]
A voice whispered beside him.
[Until Yohan's soul finally becomes mine.]
Right.
I almost forgot about this thing.
Yohan's gaze shifted toward his left shoulder.
A winged fairy sat there, resting both arms comfortably against his upper arm as she breathed out freezing air.
Highly acidic fluid glistened across her entire body.
Tentacle-like legs resembling those of a cephalopod clung tightly around different parts of his arm.
Her two glowing red eyes radiated such madness that merely meeting her gaze seemed capable of paralyzing the mind.
