Ariadne was astonished at what the old woman had said. She decided to let go of all her shallow doubts. This old woman was truly real.
“What on earth does a half-regressor mean?”
She had heard something similar before.
“Whether it’s regression or future time, if it’s regression, it’s regression, and if it’s future time, it’s future time. Why do you say it’s half?”
“Oh, it looks like I met a fool somewhere.”
The old woman counted on her fingers.
“It’s been about two hundred years since that school split off... You’re a gypsy living in the Central Continent! The Central Continent did have its own indigenous school!”
Instead of urging the grandmother, Ariadne waited patiently. This attitude seemed to have won the old woman's favor.
She answered Ariadne's question right away without beating around the bush any longer.
“You didn’t come back of your own free will, did you? That’s why you’re called half-regressor, you ignorant child.”
The old woman began with a simple explanation of all these mysteries. The first thing she taught Ariadne was why today was the day of the appointment.
The last night of the month was said to be the only day when free conversation was permitted, even with just a slight barrier.
Because all the 'awakened ones' are gathered in the conference room, they cannot observe the affairs on the ground.
“Actually, I personally find it very interesting to meet you.”
This means that she came to see Ariadne for some other reason than personal interest.
But now was not the time to pursue this point. Ariadne pretended not to know and followed along.
“Why?”
“Regressors are usually ‘people like us.’ Regression comes with a high price. That’s why all the regressors whose records have been kept up to now are people who used the magic of regression and went back to the past.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me put it more simply. Is there any fool who would grant someone else’s wish while paying the price?”
“There must be a special reason.”
Like granting a loved one's wish or sending their family or children back.
“I know what you’re thinking, but that’s not right.”
The old woman laughed. She was a clever child.
“To become a regressor, you have to have a high ‘level’ of soul. In your terms... Yes. You would be someone who has refined yourself by going through the ‘cycle of reincarnation’ governed by the gods many times.”
The number of such people was not large.
“It is unlikely that a family member or lover of someone who knows how to use the occult is a high-level spirit. And in our society, high-level spirits usually fall into the occult, so high-level spirits usually know how to use the occult themselves.”
The old woman explained.
“So naturally, the person who used the magic and the person who returned were the same.
“Only those who desperately want to change something enough to pay a price can turn back time.”
No matter what the price.
The old woman, having said this, looked Ariadne up and down with shining eyes.
“This is the first time I’ve encountered such a curious case. It’s worth studying.”
The old woman felt a burning academic curiosity. Perhaps it was a curiosity of exploitation.
“Can’t we first find out if the price is tied to the use of the secret art, or to the return itself?”
If the price doesn't stick to the user of the spell, but only to the regressor, then it's possible to randomly grab anyone and send them flying back to the past.
Of course, there would be less incentive for the user of the secret arts to do so, as they would have to endure a past that was out of their control and a present that was shaped by it.
But hasn't there already been at least one guy who did that crazy thing?
“Judging by the type of spell you’re under, it seems like it might be the work of the Amharas...”
Ariadne took off her glove and held out her left hand, or rather her left arm, to the old woman.
“Is this the price?”
“Oh my.”
The old woman frowned as she looked at her arm, which was covered in red spots extending beyond her elbow.
“The condition is pretty bad.”
But she didn't seem surprised at all.
“But this in itself is not the price.”
Ariadne laughed in vain.
“Is there something worse than this?”
Suddenly a hopeful thought crossed her mind.
“Or is it that the user of the secret arts pays the price, not me?”
If this isn't the price of regression or punishment, I wish you would just take it away. But the old woman clicked her tongue.
“You can’t tell who will pay the price just by looking at this.”
If I saw a hint of compassion in her eyes, could I have been mistaken?
“...This is just a trailer.”
Ariadne felt uneasy at the old woman's expression.
The old woman drew a straight line with her finger on Ariadne's left arm, up to her shoulder.
“The red blood on your left arm symbolizes the karma you have committed in this life.”
The blood that Ariadne shed, no, the blood that she made others shed.
“The number of people who would have lived peacefully in their previous lives is increasing as a result of your intervention and their lives are ruined.”
Most of them were victims of the Black Death in the Kingdom of Gallico.
“...Even though there was no choice...? If the Gallico army had been left alone, the Gaeta region would have fallen to the enemy, and about a third of the population of the Etruscan Peninsula would have died from starvation and the Black Death.”
“You killed the Gallicans to save the Etruscans? Oh, what a pity. It’s a tearful patriotism. But the ‘golden rule’ is mechanical. It doesn’t care about that.”
Ariadne was now beginning to get angry, although of course, she was not angry at the old woman.
“What on earth does the ‘Golden Rule’ want me to do? If this horrible thing isn’t the main story, then what exactly is the real price?”
The old woman clicked her tongue.
“What if we already have this?”
The blood stain on Ariadne's arm was a kind of instrument panel.
“When the Day of Judgment arrives, the day you died in your previous life, they will weigh your merits and deeds.”
The old woman glanced at the bright red mark on the girl's arm.
“It’s quite rare for it to reach beyond the wrist and up to the elbow. You’ve really accumulated a lot of karma in a short time without even lifting a sword.”
That was the power of power and economy. It created hundreds and tens of thousands of deaths without a single apparent sinner.
“Do you count the balls too?”
“What on earth does a half-regressor mean?”
She had heard something similar before.
“Whether it’s regression or future time, if it’s regression, it’s regression, and if it’s future time, it’s future time. Why do you say it’s half?”
“Oh, it looks like I met a fool somewhere.”
The old woman counted on her fingers.
“It’s been about two hundred years since that school split off... You’re a gypsy living in the Central Continent! The Central Continent did have its own indigenous school!”
Instead of urging the grandmother, Ariadne waited patiently. This attitude seemed to have won the old woman's favor.
She answered Ariadne's question right away without beating around the bush any longer.
“You didn’t come back of your own free will, did you? That’s why you’re called half-regressor, you ignorant child.”
The old woman began with a simple explanation of all these mysteries. The first thing she taught Ariadne was why today was the day of the appointment.
The last night of the month was said to be the only day when free conversation was permitted, even with just a slight barrier.
Because all the 'awakened ones' are gathered in the conference room, they cannot observe the affairs on the ground.
“Actually, I personally find it very interesting to meet you.”
This means that she came to see Ariadne for some other reason than personal interest.
But now was not the time to pursue this point. Ariadne pretended not to know and followed along.
“Why?”
“Regressors are usually ‘people like us.’ Regression comes with a high price. That’s why all the regressors whose records have been kept up to now are people who used the magic of regression and went back to the past.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me put it more simply. Is there any fool who would grant someone else’s wish while paying the price?”
“There must be a special reason.”
Like granting a loved one's wish or sending their family or children back.
“I know what you’re thinking, but that’s not right.”
The old woman laughed. She was a clever child.
“To become a regressor, you have to have a high ‘level’ of soul. In your terms... Yes. You would be someone who has refined yourself by going through the ‘cycle of reincarnation’ governed by the gods many times.”
The number of such people was not large.
“It is unlikely that a family member or lover of someone who knows how to use the occult is a high-level spirit. And in our society, high-level spirits usually fall into the occult, so high-level spirits usually know how to use the occult themselves.”
The old woman explained.
“So naturally, the person who used the magic and the person who returned were the same.
“Only those who desperately want to change something enough to pay a price can turn back time.”
No matter what the price.
The old woman, having said this, looked Ariadne up and down with shining eyes.
“This is the first time I’ve encountered such a curious case. It’s worth studying.”
The old woman felt a burning academic curiosity. Perhaps it was a curiosity of exploitation.
“Can’t we first find out if the price is tied to the use of the secret art, or to the return itself?”
If the price doesn't stick to the user of the spell, but only to the regressor, then it's possible to randomly grab anyone and send them flying back to the past.
Of course, there would be less incentive for the user of the secret arts to do so, as they would have to endure a past that was out of their control and a present that was shaped by it.
But hasn't there already been at least one guy who did that crazy thing?
“Judging by the type of spell you’re under, it seems like it might be the work of the Amharas...”
Ariadne took off her glove and held out her left hand, or rather her left arm, to the old woman.
“Is this the price?”
“Oh my.”
The old woman frowned as she looked at her arm, which was covered in red spots extending beyond her elbow.
“The condition is pretty bad.”
But she didn't seem surprised at all.
“But this in itself is not the price.”
Ariadne laughed in vain.
“Is there something worse than this?”
Suddenly a hopeful thought crossed her mind.
“Or is it that the user of the secret arts pays the price, not me?”
If this isn't the price of regression or punishment, I wish you would just take it away. But the old woman clicked her tongue.
“You can’t tell who will pay the price just by looking at this.”
If I saw a hint of compassion in her eyes, could I have been mistaken?
“...This is just a trailer.”
Ariadne felt uneasy at the old woman's expression.
The old woman drew a straight line with her finger on Ariadne's left arm, up to her shoulder.
“The red blood on your left arm symbolizes the karma you have committed in this life.”
The blood that Ariadne shed, no, the blood that she made others shed.
“The number of people who would have lived peacefully in their previous lives is increasing as a result of your intervention and their lives are ruined.”
Most of them were victims of the Black Death in the Kingdom of Gallico.
“...Even though there was no choice...? If the Gallico army had been left alone, the Gaeta region would have fallen to the enemy, and about a third of the population of the Etruscan Peninsula would have died from starvation and the Black Death.”
“You killed the Gallicans to save the Etruscans? Oh, what a pity. It’s a tearful patriotism. But the ‘golden rule’ is mechanical. It doesn’t care about that.”
Ariadne was now beginning to get angry, although of course, she was not angry at the old woman.
“What on earth does the ‘Golden Rule’ want me to do? If this horrible thing isn’t the main story, then what exactly is the real price?”
The old woman clicked her tongue.
“What if we already have this?”
The blood stain on Ariadne's arm was a kind of instrument panel.
“When the Day of Judgment arrives, the day you died in your previous life, they will weigh your merits and deeds.”
The old woman glanced at the bright red mark on the girl's arm.
“It’s quite rare for it to reach beyond the wrist and up to the elbow. You’ve really accumulated a lot of karma in a short time without even lifting a sword.”
That was the power of power and economy. It created hundreds and tens of thousands of deaths without a single apparent sinner.
“Do you count the balls too?”
But Ariadne never gave up hope.
Holding on to even the smallest bit of hope and perseverance was her virtue, but it was also a trait that had driven her into the abyss in her previous life.
“Over there, this.”
Ariadne held out her right hand. The sparkles no longer danced as they had before, but the halo of light from the sacred fire still remained.
“Is this in conflict with this?”
Her green eyes were gleaming like a halo of light shining from the tip of her right hand. It was the first time in a long while that she had seen such liveliness.
If she accumulates enough good deeds... on the Day of Judgment, the blood on her left hand will all disappear and there will be no additional cost?
But Ariadne's happy fantasy was shattered in just a few seconds.
“...Why are you looking at me like that?”
Because the old Moorish woman was looking at Ariadne with a face that seemed to show great pity.
“...sins are not washed away.”
The old woman looked at the sky. On the last night of the month in Etruscan land, a pitch-black sky covered the earth like a blanket.
She seemed not simply to be looking at the sky, but to be reflecting on her past, her choices.
“If the sins committed were washed away, who in the world would remain sinful?”
Indulgences from the Holy See. Daily devout prayers. Sincere repentance. Heartfelt apologies and forgiveness.
“It’s all futile.”
Spilled water is spilled water. The wet floor simply dries over time, and the new layers of time are piled on top of the dried floor.
The old woman looked straight at Ariadne.
“You will pay the price for all your sins. On the day of judgment, the sins you have committed will come back to haunt you in the form of misfortune.”
An epic tale of a hero who rises to great heights and then falls. An artist who achieves success after success in his youth but then meets a miserable end.
It was a common ending for those who regressed and could not avoid committing sin.
“And if you fail to overcome the misfortune brought on by that misfortune and collapse, your soul will not be able to return to the cycle of reincarnation and will forever be in the hands of the ‘awakened ones.’”
The old woman recited a long list of failed regressors from the past.
Most of them were foreign, unfamiliar names, but some were heroes of the Ratan Empire and the previous Philoa culture that she knew.
People who sell their souls in exchange for success.
“Is that by any chance...”
A contract with the devil...?
Ariadne's lips trembled, unable to utter the words.
“I know what you’re going to say.”
The old woman answered indifferently.
“They seemed smart, but the Western Continent... No, there’s nothing the Central Continent can do. When the Central Continent people hear of this story, they all ask if this isn’t a ‘contract with the devil’.”
She clicked her tongue.
“The same question and answer was written in an ancient book from three hundred years ago, and the Central Continent scholar who visited Balasa Ordo seventy years ago said the same thing. Tsk tsk, you uncreative people.”
“Because that is the truth, it may be that the challenge at the same point is repeated over and over again. Is it the devil who takes the soul in exchange for returning, or is it something else?”
No matter how corrupt and debaucherous the church in the Central Continent in the 1120s was, Ariadne was still the daughter of a priest.
She was repeatedly instructed on what happens to those who sell their souls to the devil.
They were taught that those who sold their souls would not be able to join the cycle of reincarnation and would be dragged to hell to burn forever in the chains of the devil.
“You are mistaken. The ‘awakened ones’ are not demons. They are simply people who have escaped the cycle of reincarnation.”
A cold sweat broke out on Ariadne's back.
“To escape from the cycle of reincarnation is in itself to escape from the embrace of God, and isn’t that the end of the soul?”
She added.
“If you break free from the cycle of reincarnation, you are depriving yourself of the opportunity to become better.”
The old woman clapped her hands.
“For someone from the Central Continent, that’s amazing. To perceive the cycle of reincarnation as an opportunity to further refine your soul.”
Her wrinkled brown face had a faint smile on it, either in mockery or in praise.
“The Central Continent idiots say that if you do a lot of good deeds, you will be born as a rich person with more money and royal relatives in the next life. Hey, if you want to reincarnate for that, why don’t you just join the Crusades and figure out how to get ahead in this life!”
The old woman waved her hand in the air, then straightened up and looked at Ariadne.
“But you still can’t escape the limitations that are unique to the Central Continent, my child. Why do you think reincarnation is all that’s good?”
She had a serious face.
“Why can’t we think of it as a shackle given to humans by the heavens?”
"Shanckle...?"
“Yeah. Why did you want to regress?”
It was because she wanted to achieve what she couldn't achieve in her original life.
“Those who regress usually do so for reasons such as wealth, honor, or unfulfilled wishes. But those who want to escape the cycle of reincarnation are a little different. They want to have eternity.”
Her eyes were far away. The wrinkles around her eyes made the old woman's face, which spoke of eternity, look even more pitiful.
“Humans are confined by the limits of their lifespan. At some point, yes, usually when they realize their own finitude, they give up progress as individuals and try to achieve a semi-permanence by having children.”
The old woman laughed heartily. It was somewhat of a self-deprecating laugh.
“That’s really just blindness. Children are not my continuation after all. At first, they seem like a part of me that resembles me, but eventually, they all become independent entities and run off in all directions. If you try to stop them… … . Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Not only will it not work out, but even if you do succeed, the remaining children will end up being penniless.”
The old woman looked Ariadne up and down.
“Oh. The story has changed. I don’t know why you regressed.”
“...”
“What if you could live forever, free from the limitations of human existence? To see more, to know more, to devote yourself entirely to the search for truth?”
The old woman's eyes sparkled cheerfully. Her face looked truly happy.
“Isn’t it possible that you don’t even want to go back? All that wealth, fame, power, affection, and love are meaningless things that will rot away in a hundred years.”
The old woman's eyes sparkled.
“They say that if you open your ‘eyes’ at the end of the archery range, you can escape the cycle of reincarnation. We call those people ‘those who have opened their eyes.’”
The old woman's voice sounded as if it was coming from deep within the cave.
“It’s like becoming a ‘god.’”
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