Chapter 664: Dawn (7)
As the sound of the flute reached him, Oliver signaled Eve, who had been in the World Tree from the start, and Pandora, who had transferred her consciousness to the World Tree, to activate the Idea.
A miraculous spell that overlays the vast magic and memories stored within the World Tree onto reality.
However, this time, he asked them to manifest only a single being rather than a wide range.
That being was none other than the Piper, from a time hundreds of years ago before he had lost his son.
It was a decision born from the belief that only the Piper himself could resist the sound of the flute that encroaches on one’s mind.
Following Oliver's request, Eve and Pandora searched through the centuries-old memories contained within the World Tree and manifested the Piper through its magical energy.
A feat of artistry, achievable only by spirits of the World Tree, that bordered on the act of creation.
Upon verifying this, Oliver extracted the black emotion, yellow life force, and green natural energy from a vial he held close. At the same time, he drew upon the blue mana stored within himself, gathering it into his hands and combining the four energies into one.
The Contaminated Zone in Sector F was the place where he had learned the creation of an artificial soul from Puppet.
Emotion, life force, mana, nature’s energy.
As he attempted to merge the four energies, each emitted a radiant light as they fiercely resisted one another. But moments later, they unified into a complete energy.
What Oliver recreated, however incompletely, was the divine act of soul creation.
He layered this sacred yet utterly blasphemous power onto the Piper manifested by the Idea.
Once again, an intense light flashed.
With that light, a transformation occurred.
The Piper, reconstructed from the World Tree's memories and magic, had a spark flash across his eyes.
The soil, stones, and tree roots in the surroundings were drawn toward him as if pulled by a magnet. They merged with the magical energy, reconstituting the Piper in a form resembling that of a spirit.
Fundamentally different, yet Oliver had created something akin to the Piper as he had been hundreds of years ago.
-······!
The newly formed Piper raised his arms, blending with earth, wood, and magic, and played his flute. To everyone’s amazement, the flute’s melody, which had been invading people’s minds, began to fade.
The return of light to the dazed eyes of those who had been losing consciousness was evidence of this.
After a brief moment of confirmation, Oliver turned his head to check.
First, he saw Kevin, protecting Rosburn and Yareli, while using the spirits to sweep away the undead around him. Catching his eye, Kevin returned the gaze with one that seemed to say, “Go on without worry.” He was nothing short of reliable.
Oliver turned his attention to the next person.
It was Joanna, who, under Roderick’s command, was holding the frontline alongside the other Holy Knights.
When she raised her shield, a massive wall of light formed, stopping the undead in their tracks. When she swung her mace, the undead were shattered into pieces and scattered into the air.
In the midst of the fierce battle, Oliver’s eyes met Joanna’s.
Oliver spoke with his eyes.
“As planned.”
Joanna replied with her gaze.
“As planned.”
Concluding their silent exchange, Oliver spoke through the communication device attached to the inside of his shirt collar.
“Eve, Pandora… please maintain this state as long as possible.”
[Yes, Father.]
[Yes, Dave.]
The responses came back. Oliver then wrapped his legs in the Black Suit.
The countless threads of black wrapped around Oliver’s legs, and in that state, he rushed further into the forest.
Bang!
As Oliver stepped forward, the ground seemed to collapse beneath him, and a small explosion erupted as his form vanished.
It wasn’t a chemical explosion.
Rather, the force generated was so powerful that it created an explosion-like effect.
Using this monstrous leg strength, Oliver moved with incredible speed, his wiry frame belying his power. He dashed past the soldiers, military mages, and Holy Knights stationed behind him, running deeper into the forest alone.
As he passed, Oliver took in only a few sights: a handful of military mages, Holy Knights, and the undead—neither truly dead nor alive.
“Groooooo…!”
“End me… let me rest…!”
“I was wrong… please… forgive me…”
For countless years, the undead had wandered this land, trapped between life and death. Their minds shattered, they wailed and repeated the same words.
Among their faces, Oliver even recognized a few familiar ones.
They were faces he had seen while glimpsing the Piper’s past; some had been helped by him, others had received kindness from him, while still others had tried to use or harm him for their gain.
Now, all of them, driven only by instinct, longed for rest (death) as they relentlessly attacked the intruders.
In a certain sense, it could be called equality.
[Hate Bullet]
While sprinting at a speed that made him a blur, Oliver fired bullets of hatred, blowing off the heads of the undead in front of him.
As heads burst like an enormous scythe cutting through the crowd, undead bodies began to fall en masse. Yet, they did not truly die.
Ignoring the fallen undead, Oliver pressed on into the depths of the forest.
Aaaahhh—!!
Aaahhhahhhh—!!!
Aaaaahhhhhhh—!!!
Rrrrrrrr…!
Gyaaaaarrrgh!!
Upon entering the forest, Oliver was greeted by undead who had fused with trees and animals, their grotesque forms seemingly crafted as if from clay by a deranged hand. They surrounded Oliver from all directions, unnatural and horrific.
A scene befitting a living hell.
The creatures closed in around Oliver, encircling him in an unbreakable physical barricade…
It was then that something unusual happened.
Though the undead were clearly moving swiftly toward Oliver, they seemed to be getting farther and farther away rather than closer.
And not only that.
Gaps started to appear within the previously unbroken circle of undead defending the Piper’s forest.
Wide enough for a person to pass through.
Oliver had manipulated the forest space, polluted and distorted by the Piper, just as he had once done in the Sleeping Forest to breach the castle where the princess resided.
Recalling that sensation, Oliver manipulated the space, squeezing through the gaps between the undead.
With a single step...
He slipped through the gaps in the circle and broke free of the encirclement of the undead.
Groooooar!!
Can’t… let… you… escape…!
Grrr…
As Oliver slipped past, the undead turned and screamed, trying to pursue him. However, just as when he had initially escaped, Oliver manipulated the forest space once again, increasing the distance between himself and the creatures.
An impossible scenario where they pursued him yet the gap widened.
In this manner, Oliver sprinted, glancing at the scenery speeding past.
A nameless village by the river, a hut by the stream, and a god-tree much larger than the others…
Though contaminated and modified by the Piper, these sites still resembled their forms from his living memories, their locations roughly preserved.
After all, this space had been created by the Piper to ensure he would never forget his sins.
Using the landmarks as guideposts, Oliver adjusted his direction continuously.
If he continued this way, he would eventually reach his destination—the place where the Piper’s son had died, and the children he had kidnapped were held.
“Of course, before that…”
“Have you truly chosen the path of folly?”
The voice, painfully familiar, echoed around him, and the area he had been controlling slipped from his grasp, breaking free like a fish leaping from a net.
Control lost so easily.
Looking ahead, Oliver saw the man who had wrested control from him standing there.
“The Piper.”
...
“The Piper.”
Oliver called out to the Piper.
With that, the cries of the undead that had filled the forest fell silent, leaving an eerie stillness hanging in the air.
A discomforting silence, as if he had trespassed where he shouldn’t have.
And perhaps, that wasn’t far from the truth.
After all, Oliver was not meant to be here.
So, he began with an apology.
“I am sorry, Piper. For breaking our promise.”
Back when the Piper had come to Landa, Oliver had made a deal with him.
He would quietly leave Landa, and in return, Oliver was not to interfere with him.
It had been an agreement born partly from mutual understanding, and partly from the Piper’s consideration of Oliver’s situation.
A great deal of consideration, at that.
Yet here Oliver was, having broken that promise to meet him.
“Truly… I am sorry.”
Kneeling on one knee, Oliver apologized once more.
While he didn’t believe it was right for one person to kneel to another, he felt it was the least he could do.
The Piper, hearing Oliver's apology, opened his mouth to speak.
Rather than seeming surprised that Oliver had broken his promise, he did not react with anger. Instead, he offered a warning.
“There’s still time. Go back.”
“...”
“This choice will bring you suffering.”
“...I understand.”
“No, you do not.”
“Yes, I do. And I know that you, too, Piper—no, Nicholas—suffered as a result of a similar choice.”
“So, you have seen my past.”
The Piper confirmed his suspicion.
Seeing the past, especially one from hundreds of years ago, was far from ordinary, yet the Piper instantly guessed this, confident that Oliver would be capable of such a feat. His curiosity, however, lay elsewhere.
“Hah... And still, you came here... quite unexpected.”
“I came because I saw it.”
“What do you mean by that?”
The Piper’s tone hardened. It was a subtle change, but Oliver could sense it was profound.
He understood, for he would have felt the same if someone had intruded upon his own most sensitive and private memories.
Yet Oliver did not back down, for everyone’s sake.
“As I said, I saw your past, Nicholas. Through the World Tree.”
“…”
“I saw who accompanied you on your journey, what you saw and heard during that time, and the trials you faced.”
Rustle…
The sound of leaves brushing together grew louder, a sound so artificial in the otherwise profound silence that it couldn’t be missed.
“And I saw why you became so filled with rage.”
“What are you trying to say?”
Oliver held the Piper’s gaze, eyes sincere.
“Would it not be possible… to forgive?”
Rustle, rustle…
The sound of rustling leaves, or perhaps of the forest shifting ominously, became more intense.
But Oliver’s gaze remained locked onto the Piper, steady and filled with genuine intention.
“Forgiveness… How can you speak of such a thing?”
“Director Amelin once gave me similar advice. To forgive.”
“That woman. From Ark Orphanage.”
“Yes.”
“You know what I did to her, then?”
“I saw it.”
“And did I kill her?”
“That’s not for me to judge.”
Oliver thought of Director Amelin, who, like one forever caught in a nightmare, suffered as if transformed into a tree.
He had tried to communicate with her but failed to make any judgment.
Whether to kill her and release her from pain or trust she would endure and seek another way—he hadn’t decided.
So he had postponed it, and the Piper could sense his hesitation as he spoke.
“Ha… Still running away. You’ve come to face me in that state? Foolish.”
“I agree.”
Lowering his head for a moment, Oliver raised it once more to reply.
The Piper looked at him for a moment, then resumed the conversation.
“You said you’d seen my past?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me. How can you say such a thing to me? Surely, you must have seen it all.”
“I did. That’s why I am saying this. I believe it’s for the best... for everyone.”
“For everyone…”
“Yes, and especially for you, Nicholas.”
Pause.
Caught off-guard, the Piper froze. Oliver’s assertion that it was for his sake as well was, to him, absurd. And yet Oliver was earnest.
It was the very reason he had broken his promise and come to this place.
“Once, Director Amelin told me that forgiveness is a form of pain. For both those who give it and those who seek it.”
“…”
“She said forgiveness is painful because it means bearing one’s suffering without asking for recompense. It is an unbearable burden.”
“Then why should I be the one to forgive?”
“Because there’s nothing you can forgive more difficultly than yourself.”
Through the Idea, Oliver had seen the journey taken by the Piper and his son, and one thing had become clear to him:
No one loathed the Piper more than he loathed himself.
He despised his helplessness, his inability to protect his son, his selfish choices that led to his son’s death.
“That’s why you keep this land intact where your son died—to punish yourself.”
“What is wrong with facing my sins?”
“Nothing. You should face them. But what you’re doing now isn’t facing them; it’s merely hurting yourself. To truly face your sins, you must confront them and seek forgiveness. What you’re doing now is only using pain as a way to avoid your guilt.”
Oliver’s tone was firmer than usual, almost harsh.
These words left the Piper momentarily silent.
“You… are something else.”
“I am—”
“—Able to say something so remarkable while in such poor condition.”
“…”
“Even now, you’re starving, and the pain in your right arm must be excruciating. You must also feel tired, as the shadow within you constantly resists control each night.”
The Piper listed Oliver’s hidden conditions one by one.
The unquenchable hunger he had gained from consuming the Flesh Chef’s remains…
The burning pain he endured from the Burnt One in his right arm…
And his perpetual exhaustion from maintaining control over the shadows he absorbed from Pan and Neverland.
Each of these was a hardship of its own.
Oliver bore them all without complaint.
“And yet you do feel pain, don’t you? You’re just suppressing that unbearable pain with other kinds of suffering, masking it. The burning pain drowns out the hunger, the hunger pushes aside the fatigue, and the fatigue dulls the burning. No one notices. After all, no one cares about your pain.”
“It’s not that…”
“But my pain is beyond your understanding, just as others don’t know yours. That’s why you can suggest forgiveness so easily.”
“Your son—Hameln—would want you to forgive yourself, Nicholas.”
“That child… yes, he was kind.”
“There’s still time. It’s not too late. If you forgive yourself, he will be watching from heaven.”
“There is no heaven. That’s just a lie I made up. When we die, that’s it—especially for people like us.”
Oliver closed his eyes, then spoke again with a plea.
“Is it truly impossible for you to forgive? Could you at least release the children you’ve taken?”
“I have no intention of forgiving anyone, nor do I plan to free those children. It’s the only way I can continue to survive.”
Hearing the Piper’s answer, Oliver stood, frowning slightly. Perhaps this was what sorrow looked like.
“Our business is done, then.”
Oliver nodded in silence. Each knew the other’s intentions fully.
Only one option remained.
To fight or to leave. The answer was clear.
“You intend to fight me?”
“Yes… I do.”
As Oliver replied, the ground quaked like waves, and people emerged from the surrounding trees, transforming into a single living creature.
Just as Oliver had once seized control of the forest to manipulate space, the Piper was now doing the same.
At that moment, Oliver was practically in the Piper’s hands.
“I’m curious. How do you plan to fight me? You already lost to me in Landa.”
The Piper spread his hand in the air, one that was not holding his flute.
Drip.
At that moment, a drop of rain fell onto the Piper’s palm.
It was warm, red, and sticky with decay.
As the rain poured down from the crimson clouds above, it painted the world in a sickening red.
Swoooosh…
The entire scene turned scarlet.
The brown soil and green leaves were stained a bloody hue.
The forest surrounding Oliver was soaked in the rotten blood rain, rapidly decaying and collapsing.
The world crafted by the Piper was being swallowed up by the blood rain.
Everything it touched swiftly decomposed, losing its shape and essence.
Only two figures remained intact.
The Piper and Oliver.
Oliver looked at the Piper and said,
“I’ll do my best.”