“The accused has been convicted of several crimes, a few of them capital in nature. He has killed a commoner, four city guards within Prelic, while aiding and abetting the murder of one noble and 32 commoners. He has also–”

Right now, Alaric and his personal knight, Tarsin, are among a crowd of commoners in the city of Prelic, the domain of his Viscount father. He is witnessing a spectacle, one that he has never seen in person in either this life, his life in hell, or his first life as a commoner.

(For the crime of leading a slave rebellion, killing his direct slave driver, inciting violence against his master, who was killed by those under his order, and plotting treason against the territory and nation that allowed his enslavement to remain legal…)

“...The sentence will be death!”

Orion’s fists were clenched. Tarsin didn’t miss the anger in his expression. The man reading out the sentence is a member of the clergy. One of those standing in view nearby include the administrator, a baron serving in a mayor-like position after being appointed by the Viscount.

(This is all being carried out legally by the state. It’s just like how the gods are… just because they ordain it, the thing itself is righteous and holy. Divine. Even slavery. The subjugation of your fellow man is holy as long as they aren’t human. Or as long as they don’t have the power to fight back. Or whatever other justification the deities give.)

Orion stews in his restrained fury while the crowd roars in applause upon hearing the sentence. Orion had stood with his knight Tarsin for an hour through the reading of the man’s crimes and the sentence is finally taking place. 

(They dragged it out so unnecessarily, just to mentally torment him, Mailith, the half-elf former slave.)

Minutes pass after the sentence is declared, and five mages slowly, solemnly, gathered around the man, who was kneeling over a magic circle.

A punishment is carried out without any pain inflicted, without any protest allowed, without even granting Mailith the dignity of giving his last words. The magic circle itself is a conduit for mana, randomly accepting the mana flow of only one of the five mages pouring their mana forth. This ensures that none of them know who it was that activated the spell and killed the man.

(How humane.)

Mailith looks resigned, though the fear in his eyes remains.

(You should be afraid. Your afterlife has already been ordained by the clergyman who sentenced you. You will experience unspeakable things, just like I have… Now, the question is… Can I save you?)

As the magic circle activates, the man is frozen, his expression twisted in fear until finally, the sound of glass shattering reverberates across the execution grounds. Within seconds, he is reduced to dust, except even the dust scatters into nothing. There are no remains.

None visible to a normal person.

“...So that’s how it is.”

“Young m–?”

Suddenly, Orion’s smiles viciously. He raises his hand and almost runs towards the stage, Tarsin holding him back. Tarsin can hear him whispering.

“Come on… Come on… You don’t want to go there. Come to me, Mailith!”

His voice that became a shout is drowned out by the sounds of the crowd of commoners cheering, even Tarsin barely hearing his desperate cries. Tarsin holds him for a brief moment before the boy stops moving. Tarsin watches carefully as Alaric starts to turn pale. Alaric retracts his hand and starts to breathe roughly.

“We’re leaving now, young master.”

Without waiting for Alaric to respond, Tarsin pulls the wobbly boy away from the crowd. The cheers grow softer and softer. Eventually, Tarsin is forced to carry the boy back to the carriage because Alaric fell unconscious.

—

“Where… Where am I?”

A man with pointed ears, blonde hair and leaf-green eyes sits in a completely white space, the floor indistinguishable from the sky.

“You are… lucky. I didn’t know if that would work. The moment your body disappeared in that disintegrating magic, your soul remained. It was so brilliant to my eyes, but it was about to leave this plane. In the last place I was, no one could die the conventional way so I never once saw a bare soul passing on. Fascinating.”

The man turns his head to see a man wearing a long flowing white cloak with silver hair and golden eyes standing beside his sitting self. The man gracefully falls into the lotus position next to him.

“I was about to be executed. I was about to… This is the afterlife then?”

“No, it’s not, Mailith. Your afterlife will never come. I have saved you from an eternity in the infernal plane. Oh, but I don’t seek your gratitude, this was simply the only way I could protect you. We are in my astral plane and you will be assimilated into me. I could simply force the process but you are the first soul I have touched in this life. I wanted to… talk to you.”

“W-What do you wish to know?”

“Hm… what indeed… Well, how about a simple question, one you might be well-equipped to answer… Do you know anyone named Laila? It’s a mononym.”

“Laila… If it’s a single name, d-do you mean the emissary and supreme commander?”

“So, those were her titles here. I knew she had power but ‘supreme commander’, huh…” 

As Mailith started to speak, his hair slowly started to change, lengthening to drape his shoulders. His body that was thin and slightly below average height started to grow larger. His hair turned from blonde to white and his eyes turned from green to bright gold. 

“Then, you are truly from the land of the World Tree.”

“N-No, my mother only told me stories about the homeland. I’ve never visited…”

Mailith’s clothes that were originally a light brown prisoner’s jumpsuit with straightjacket sleeves, stopped restraining him and became a long flowing white cloak. It was only when his voice changed that he realized something was happening to his body.

“It’s not as great a place as you might think. But, it is still nice to know that she’s alive in this world. I should still have plenty of time to… You look like you want to ask something else.”

“You… Um, sir, are you god?”

“No, Mailith. Starting from now… I am you.”

—

Orion wakes up in his carriage to a throbbing headache. The assimilation of new souls in the astral plane is simple, he can do it even in this new body. The trouble comes when the physical brain has to be synchronized. 

(It’s never an easy process to accept all these new memories…)

As his head starts “loading” Mailith, Tarsin, sitting opposite him, speaks up.

“Young master… You were unconscious for several minutes. I need to know if–-”

“Tarsin, don’t worry, we’ll leave the morning behind us and prepare for Cal’s first outing. No need to think too hard. I’m not in danger… If father or mother ask, stick to the alibi.”

“...Yes, acknowledged.”

(Sigh… Truly an exemplary personal knight. When mother and father realize he’s on my side and mine alone, the look on their faces… Haha, I feel so refreshed!)

Alaric smiles widely.

He has been given a new hope. Rather than watching souls enter hell without any recourse, he can now act. He would assimilate the innocent, like Mailith. The truly guilty would not be assimilated but would not enter hell either.

(The only mercy I can give to the sinners is true death. But to do any of this, I have to visit every single execution I have access to. At least I can help those who die where I can see them…)

So long as Alaric was there at the moment of death, he could snatch souls before they passed on. Furthermore, with each soul, he would gain more insight into the city and nation.

(Even Mailith has impressive knowledge about Prelic’s black market, now my knowledge of the black market. Another avenue has opened up for me and more will be opened in the future.)

—

“Where did you go?”

“Don’t worry, nowhere special, I wanted to get some equipment to help with our training while I had the opportunity today. But, unfortunately, the quality I kept seeing at the stores wasn’t good enough for you.”

“You left without me. I thought we’d be going out together!”

“Aw, were you sad you didn’t get to go out with your beloved br–”

“Shut up, I wasn’t sad!”

Alaric was afraid this might happen, sighing remorsefully. Tears were welling up in his sister’s eyes.

“Hey, Cal, stop… Look, I’m sorry. But, I didn’t want to take you outside for the first time shopping for training equipment, that’s no fun, right?”

“...I guess.” She sniffled.

“It really was very boring. We’ve been training nonstop for the past few months, you wouldn’t want to spend our day out thinking about your swords or your mana, right?”

“N-No…” Calista wipes her eyes with her dress sleeves.

(Aw…)

“Don’t worry. We’re going out right now and we’re going to have a good time. That, I promise.”

“Ok… Since you promised.”

Without postponing it any further, Alaric and Calista head out of the estate with an entourage of maids and knights in tow. 

The first place they visit is a clothing shop in the second layer, where the wealthiest commoners live. They look at a few dresses together while Alaric gives Calista short lessons about current fashion trends in other Everhart cities, based on some of Tarsin’s observations.

“Just in case mother asks, alright?”

“It’s just so boring, Alec…”

“It’s not for everyone, I know. But, come on, we’re done here. Onwards to the jeweler now!”

The trip to the jeweler is inherently more interesting, a little surprise that Alaric had planned for his sister. Several of the most beautiful jewels were actually specially crafted magical artifacts usable to Asthenos realm Ensoarcs. Both would reach that realm soon and the artifacts would become usable to them.

“Whoa, this one can create sparks! A-And this one keeps you cool in summer!”

“We’ll definitely buy these ones then. Rubedo, do we have enough funds on hand?”

“Young master, I think we only have enough for two out of the four you’re looking at. We can buy three if you’d like but then we wouldn’t be able to rent a boat later today…”

“Th-Then, two is fine, Alec, two is enough!”

“You really want to go on that boat, huh…”

After their trip to the jeweler, they took their carriage and knight entourage to a parking stable near Horizon Field and directly walked along the busy streets towards the marketplace. Horizon Field was located in the commercial district of Prelic that existed at the border between the second and third layer.

Both Alaric and Calista were hungry so Alaric picked out a food stall that sold food he recognized from Mailith’s memories.

(You may not have gotten to eat it while you were alive, but you can dig in now, Mailith.)

“This pastry is made with the meat of a crimson crag boar, an animal easily hunted outside the city which, if you dry age it correctly, tastes–”

“Amazing! I’ve never tasted anything like this before… It’s so tender and a bit buttery from the pastry! I heard from the chefs that crag boars always ended up too gamey?” Calista asks.

“That’s why you have to look for good vendors. A lot of commoner stalls sell poorly processed food but I could tell from the spices the man used here that he knows his stuff. Tarsin, hand some of the pastries out to the rest of the knights, Rubedo, you eat too.”

“Yes, young master.”

“Cernelise, you have it too!”

“M-My lady, I couldn’t possibly–”

“Rubedo is having it too! Don’t talk back and eat what your lady feeds you!”

“Of course, I-I apologize…”

The commoners crowding the area could tell that Alaric and Calista were bigshots but their group was not obtrusive to the market’s atmosphere, even with two maids and six knights accompanying the two children.

After they had this small snack, Alaric and Calista went souvenir shopping. Then they visited a place that sold books, buying a couple interesting books that weren’t in the Ironhill library. They even visited a weapons store to window shop, one that sold high quality arms for Ensoarcs of a higher realm than Asthenos.

In between each destination, Orion treated Calista and the party to more food, including meat, cold drinks, and desserts that the Ironhill chefs with their more refined palates wouldn’t cook.

Eventually, after several hours, Calista and Alaric finally headed back to their carriage and horses to visit the Kiure river.

However at this point, several hours had passed. It was already about an hour from dusk and Calista was, surprisingly, content with their day out. She and her personal maid Cernelise were sitting on a bench on the edge of the sparkling river rapids. It looked beautiful at this time of day, the rushing water was soothing, and there were very few people rafting now as well.

The water was rushing because, a short distance downstream, there was a point where the river split into tributaries like the branches of a tree. Those tributaries would offer drinking water for the commoner working class and slum neighborhoods in the third layer of Prelic.

Calista herself was resting her eyes, taking in the cool air around the river. Orion was sitting on the edge of the river, his legs dangling from the gray rock edge, his feet nearly stepping into the river. His maid was standing beside him quietly.

“...You don’t have to stand next to me, Rubedo.”

“If you were to fall into the water and face the influence of the river’s currents, I would have to jump in after you, young master.”

“I would prefer if you left that to Tarsin. I know you’re a Lithos stage Ensoarc but you should still keep your dress clean.”

“I will take your words into consideration.”

“Sigh… Did you enjoy being out with us, Rubedo? Or was it a hassle taking care of unknowing noble children who know nothing about the world?”

“Young master, I had no such ill feelings about today’s outing. However, I don’t think you can say you know nothing about the world.” His maid spoke matter of factly, her affect flat.

Alaric smiles wryly.

“Hah, well, I suppose I can’t be too modest.” His knowledge of Prelic’s commoner food was suspicious, as well as his knowledge of the marketplace layout as if it wasn’t his first time there.

Orion stares at the water, reflecting on the day he’s had. It started off unexpectedly well. He gained insight into his innate power, the aspect of it that allowed the manipulation, consumption and destruction of souls.

He also gained information about Laila that she refused to tell him while they were in hell.

(To think she was even Supreme Commander of the armies of the World tree…)

The land of the World Tree is an elusive place to those on this, the Aethron continent dominated by humans. If not for the elf variants in various parts of the continent, the place would have been considered a myth.

(I’ve added someone new to my greater self. Hm. I’ve absorbed the memories of every hell noble I shattered, even the goddess. But… it’s been centuries since I’ve absorbed a full soul. Did I really feel so bad for you, Mailith? To bring you into my stream of consciousness… Which one of you is Mailith?)

Human consciousness is not one stream of thought, it is the combination of several streams originating from several different parts of the brain, achieving coherence. Orion’s consciousness is even more complex. For him, each stream of thought that forms his consciousness is a different soul he has assimilated during his damnation in hell.

When Mailith was added to Orion’s soul, his soul became one of those streams of thought. Although all of his thoughts would feel like they were Orion’s thoughts, it wasn’t impossible for “Orion”, the dominant, unifying personality of all those souls, to tell streams apart. At least in this early point after assimilation.

But eventually, he would become indistinguishable from Orion.

(The downsides of being subsumed by another's soul… So, which one?)

(Not me.)

(Not me.)

(Me neither.)

(Is it me? I can’t tell anymore, it feels like I’m everyone now.)

(Probably not me.)

On the edge of the river, Orion holds his face in his hands, annoyed.

(Ok, stop. Sigh… It'd be a lot easier to tell who's who if everyone I ate had a voice in my head. What would I care? I'm already some form of insane anyways…)

(It’s me. This is such a weird experience. Thanks to the congregation for taking me in. After seeing what hell was… I don’t think I can express my gratitude enough.)

(I told him already, I didn’t do it for Mailith, I did it with self-satisfaction in mind. It's not great for the original  Mailith either, now he's part of this motley crew of losers inhabiting one soul auditorium.)

(No, I’m thankful.)

(Me too.)

(Me too.)

(Even me.)

(Shut up, shut up!)

Orion takes a deep breath. 

Tired of his own thoughts, Orion takes off his shoes and socks. He extends one foot while securely holding onto the concrete river bank, dipping his toes into the water. Rubedo watches him cautiously.

“Ahhh… That really feels better, really soothes the blisters from all that walking. If she wasn’t asleep I’d have Cal try… Um… Huh.”

“...Young master?”

“Rubedo… Do me a favor, call Tarsin over.”

“At once.”

From seeing Orion’s severe expression and his uncertain voice, Rubedo hurriedly calls Tarsin over before returning to the bench where Cernelise is holding a sleeping Calista.

“Is everything ok, young master?”

“Tarsin. Do you notice anything with the river? Any weird color or smell? An odd murky look? Anything?”

“No, nothing out of the ordinary.”

Orion looks across the length of the river. This is the Kiure river, one that spans all of Prelic, supporting the city and its people as the most important source of freshwater. It is a feature of Prelic that makes this city so valuable for the Everhart Kingdom, especially considering how many important mining resources were found within the Ironhill territory.

(With the bountiful river able to support the city, laborers come from across Everhart to work and live here relatively cheaply while working as miners to extract all the gold, iron, copper and mythril on the monster-infested land outside the city…)

"Tarsin, dip your feet into the water.”

“...Alright.”

Without any fuss, Tarsin complies to Alaric’s request.

“...There is a presence of some odd… mana?”

(And that river… is slowly being corrupted.)