Magician in Type-Moon

Page 571

Matou Ike seems to finally understand what this underworld is truly concealing.

The pure land of bliss.

Or... it could be called a "paradise".

The word “Paradise” has multiple meanings in the context of mythology and magic, and in the ancient land of Britain, “paradise” and “fairy” have always been inseparable.

The lowest level of Albion, the Tomb of Spirits, is the "Fairy Realm".

This is not a coincidence, nor is it merely a structural arrangement of geography and heritage—it symbolizes an "ideal state" that once existed but is now forgotten by the world.

—Fairy Paradise.

If the "underworld" is a place of eternal slumber suppressed by death, then the "paradise" is a dreamland forgotten by the living.

The two are like light and shadow, each a reflection of the other.

Deep within Albion, these two worlds are overlapping in a way that defies common sense.

Ancient legends came to mind.

In Britain, there is an army of the dead, swept by storms and thunder, that haunts the forests and valleys every long night.

That is—"Wild Hunt".

The army of ghosts, composed of souls who failed to enter heaven or fall into hell, is also known as the "Fairy Riders".

It is said that their king was none other than the "ideal king" who slept in Avalon—King Arthur.

According to mystical interpretations, after his death, King Arthur neither ascended to Heaven nor descended to Hell, but instead led countless souls rejected by the world on a continued hunt in another world.

That was neither the kingdom of the gods nor the realm of the human world—but rather the shadow of paradise, a kingdom of fairies and ghosts.

In a sense, the deified King Arthur has acquired symbolic power equivalent to that of Hades.

He became the "King of the Frontier," ruling over those souls who had neither found peace nor been redeemed.

King Arthur was defeated and died at Avalon.

This legend became the origin of the mythological journey to the underworld.

Matouike stood before the Wailing Wall, slowly closing her eyes, allowing the perception woven by the power of death to expand deeper. Behind the wall, echoes of darkness still flowed—a space flattened by time, forgotten by history.

My thoughts, however, sank down a different path.

He suddenly remembered Hartres's information—that the dean of the Department of Modern Magic, who should have been just a department head, possessed actions and abilities far exceeding his duties.

"Humans who have come into contact with fairies."

If we take the assumption that "Hartres = Hanano Kuro" as a premise, then everything begins to become clear.

Hanako Kuro.

Ryori Hana's older brother.

The talents of the Huaye family.

So—did he also enter the Fairy Realm through that crack?

Fairies, paradise, the ruins of Albion's lower levels—these words quickly strung together in his mind.

The Fairy Realm is neither hell nor heaven.

It is a world caught between life and death, a world whose origins are yet to be determined.

In such places, it is indeed possible to obtain powers beyond the ordinary.

And more importantly:

“He can ‘return’ from the Fairy Realm.”

This is the key point that Matouchi is truly concerned about.

If he can return, it means that there exists a path through this underworld.

It is not a "ritual passage" in a symbolic sense, but a real passage that can be traveled between the body and the soul.

Matou Ike stared silently at the wall.

He wasn't sure if that guy had conspired with certain monarchs, or if someone had deliberately pushed for this Grand Order decision, activated the spiritual veins, and opened the spirit tomb, all in order to reopen the gates to Paradise.

These issues cannot be determined at this time.

But if this path exists—

"Then I can go out too."

As for Hatrees' true purpose, the secrets of the Fairy Realm, and whether a deal had already been made with the monarchs of the Grand Council—

That's a problem we'll deal with after we get out of there.

Matou Ike opened his eyes and looked back at the silent wall, as if he could hear the low sighs of countless souls behind it.

“The Wailing Wall…” he murmured.

"Then let me find the key that can make this wall stop 'sighing'."

Matou Ike left the Wailing Wall and stepped into the deeper darkness.

The aura of death grew ever stronger here, no longer an abstract symbol, but permeating the air as if it were a tangible presence.

The stench of decay, the tranquility that seemed to reverse time, and the fleeting afterimages that occasionally flitted across the corners of one's vision made one feel as if they were on a dark path traversed by ancient heroes.

He thought of Orpheus, of Heracles, and of the Greek heroes who had once ventured into the underworld.

They came to this place to reclaim their lovers, atone for their sins, or ask the gods for eternal answers.

Now, he has also embarked on this path, but with completely different motives.

However, perhaps we can find a way out by drawing inspiration from their stories.

Matouchi walked slowly forward, her footsteps echoing faintly on the lifeless ground.

He uses the power of "death" to perceive the subtle undulations of the terrain in the underworld; at the same time, he uses "future-seeing" to capture clues that may be swallowed up by the environment.

In this labyrinth woven from shadows and ashes, any glimmer of hope could be the key to survival.

He suddenly felt the ground beneath his feet tremble slightly, as if a hidden door was half-open.

Not far ahead, a nearly invisible slit stretched out silently, like a pair of ghostly eyes, gleaming with a cold light in the dim light.

The gap was not formed naturally, but rather resembled the remnants of a passage deliberately opened at some point by an ancient ritual.

"Perhaps this is the clue left for me."

He bent down, his right hand touching the crevice, feeling a trace of warmth in the hollow—corrosive yet faintly warm, as if lingering soul fires were flickering around.

He closed his eyes, transforming the "power of death" into the chill at his fingertips, and gently inscribed runes along the edge of the crack:

〖ΑΔΕΙΝΑ〗

(Adaeina - the whisper of the gate)

Before the inscription had even finished, the crack suddenly vibrated slightly, as if being pulled by an invisible hand.

A faint breeze blew in from the depths of the crevice, carrying with it a deep, melancholic sound—the echo of the River Styx as Charon swept across it.

This might be another "hurdle" that Hercules had to overcome, besides the hounds of the underworld he conquered.

He had to, like Orpheus, use some kind of "negotiation" to obtain permission to pass.

The man who entered the underworld with his lyre music descended from the abyss of Taenarus, moving Charon and Cerberus with his mournful lyre, and even touching Hades and Hades, who made an exception and allowed him to take his deceased wife with him.

Matouchi pondered for a long time.

He did not possess the lyre skills of Orpheus, which could tame wild beasts, move stubborn rocks to tears, or even shake the laws of nature.

He didn't even have a zither in his hand.

so......

In the theory of universal values, the equivalent value of this gold coin far surpasses that of the "silver coins" received by the ordinary underworld.

Whether it's currency, contracts, or the embodiment of "trust," it belongs to the very few mediums that can be valued in relation to the "rules" themselves.

But he quickly realized that this was not the key point.

Charon, the ferryman of the River Styx, never collected "value" itself.

It is a symbol. It is a sense of belonging. It is whether you have been accepted by "death," whether you are qualified to be "the dead."

For the dead, silver coins are not wealth, but a seal.

It is a symbol of "you have lost everything".

He looked down at the gold coins in his palm, and a passage he had once read came to mind.

That's a description from Dante's *Inferno*, when he first enters the underworld and witnesses nameless souls falling into the River Styx:

"Your silver coins are nothing but rusty iron sunk into the River Styx."

That is the underworld's reward to the dead—no matter how rich, glamorous, or noble you were in life, once you die, your value rusts, fades, and sinks into the River of Oblivion.

On that river, all glory will fade, all meaning will decay, and all that will remain is that rusty token, a symbol of "belonging to death."

“...That’s why it’s silver, not gold,” he murmured.

Gold is eternal, it is dazzling, it is untainted value.

Silver is the color of those who leave the stage, the flame after it has cooled, and the lingering warmth left after the world has been stripped away.

"Why do I feel like I'm being mocked?" Matou Ike touched his nose.

However, there are other ways, after all, as Mephistopheles said in Faust:

"These golden chains decay faster than rusted iron."

"The circulation of money is based on credit, expectations, and authority, which are precisely the three elements that constitute 'faith.' Therefore, using gold coins as a catalyst, one can construct a faith form that is extremely pure in form."

—This is Matouchi's interpretation.

faith.

This is the true spell inscribed on the Stud's gold coin.

Currency that is not based on "value".

Rather, it is a vehicle for "faith".