"Y-you're an Architect?"
Aaron's eyes went wide in shock, the historic texts about their accomplishments far surpassing even the Sea Kings of modern times.
His turquoise eyes bore forward as the hood fell backwards, revealing the man's face for the first time.
Contrary to his beliefs, the executioner was elderly, a thick white beard arching along his face with such luster it could make one wonder if he had dyed it.
His hair was a mix of white and purple as if someone had mixed the King of Souls and the King of Dreams into one short puff of follicles.
Returning the boy's gaze with his own gray eyes, he took a short breath before speaking aloud.
"Thus hast thou spoken, and verily, I am one of the esteemed Architects of whom thy annals do make grand mention. 'Tis true, there existeth much concerning myself that thou dost not comprehend, and conversely, I am not acquainted with thy person, wherein such particulars are of little consequence. Nevertheless…"
He stopped himself, bringing his tan hand towards his chin, where he stroked his beard gently while staring off into the empty blue sky.
"Should I desire to glean knowledge from thee, 'tis only just that our exchange be one of mutual benefit. Thus, I shall pose unto thee three queries."
Watching as Aaron tightened his grip on the blade resting gently in his hand near his hip, the man smiled lightly.
Not only that, but gazing beyond the boy, the endless pit also stretched downward into near infinity, the child only a few steps away from its rim.
"The principles governing this arrangement are straightforward. Firstly, if I am unable to respond, it shall be returned to thee without consequence. Secondly, once a query hath been answered, I am not bound to expound further than the initial request, unless thou seekest additional clarification through another question. Lastly, upon fulfilling my obligations in this pact, thou shalt respond to one of my own inquiries, and should thou be ignorant of the answer, I shall not have my question restored unto me. Doth this arrangement seem fair unto thee?"
He allowed his sapphire staff to fade away into particles of Abyssal Miasma that vanished into nothingness.
The blond boy himself took a deep breath, his eyes darting around him before re-centering on the Architect.
"If I agree to this pact, then will you tell me what you did to him without it costing one of my queries?"
Referring to the sprawled out form of Don Urude, he watched as the robed figure recoiled in surprise, slowly coming to the realization that the man wasn't getting up.
"Thy ally, thou askest? Verily, I didst but impose upon his person a Seal of Slumber, whereby he hath fallen into a deep repose. Thus, he now doth stroll, in tranquil reverie, amidst the verdant fields of Hallandland, in the gentle company of the spirits of Jorul."
Leaning down to pat the century-old man's head, as if he were nothing but a child, he raised his gaze back to the utterly confused boy without a flicker of kindness.
"Doth this signify that thou dost accept the terms of the agreement that hath been proffered unto thee?"
His lips crept upward into an eerie grin, the blond boy across from him shifting foot to foot as he came to terms with the deal.
Hallandland? Jorul? They resemble ancient Noridc names…
Thinking for one moment longer, he finally spoke up.
"Then I'll accept."
Before Aaron could even finish, the executioner slammed his hands together in a monstrous clap that shook the very mountain itself, his enthusiasm evident.
"Verily, 'tis well! Hence, we shall commence forthwith, thou and I, without delay!"
…
"I'll get the obvious questions out of the way first. Tell me who you are to the best of your abilities."
The first query of the blond boy came out quickly, and the elderly architect shook his head with a sad look.
"Thou dost pose a query of great breadth unto me. Were I a man of lesser mettle, perchance I would respond with naught but my name, thereby squandering one of thine precious inquiries. Nevertheless, in the interest of fostering amicable relations, I shall provide a full and complete response, taking heed lest I overwhelm the threshold of thy Knowledge Barrier."
Scratching his neck, he opened his mouth wide, his eyes beaming with brilliance as if the tales of his youth were appearing before him in that very moment.
"As the Executioner appointed by the Architects, thou hast witnessed my lifelong devotion to crafting the most potent seals and armaments, whereby I do strive against the demigods that doth afflict this most forlorn and water-beset world. My most notable achievement, wherein I do take great pride, has been the partial replication of the exquisite craftsmanship of the God of Blacksmiths and Flame, in my endeavor to forge a Seal of Time. Thou mayest behold the efficacy of my binding instruments, wherein thy most cherished celestial body doth float in perilous proximity to our world, thus putting it in grave danger."
Pointing out his crooked finger to a location slightly off the horizon, he waited for the turquoise-eyed boy to follow, an action he quickly did.
Narrowing his gaze, Aaron noticed the moon itself only a few thousand meters higher than where he now stood, its surface rocky and vast like a foreign world.
"W-what?"
The boy nearly took a step backwards before remembering the endless pit to nothingness that lay behind, his breath catching as sweat dripped down his face.
Dammit… It's closer than before… A lot closer…
Gritting his teeth, he turned back towards the Architect before him, the man seemingly wanting to continue.
"Thou seest before thee one who hath attained an age of nigh on six hundred winters. Mine original form hath long since vanished, lost to the calamity that befell mine own people. The semblance thou dost behold is naught but a spectral illusion, a lingering echo that did capture mine essence upon mine own mortal demise. Forsooth, this visage that appeareth before thee is but a faint echo of mine own soul, a mere shadow of mine former self, and thus, I am bereft of knowledge concerning the events that transpired after mine own passing, and consequently, I retain no memory of the calamity that did bring mine people to ruin. All that I know is that there was—"
He was cut off, his head whirring upward into the sky as if to question its very existence.
"Verily, as I have previously spoken, the Knowledge Barrier doth impede the expression of many sentiments that I desire to convey unto thee."
Sighing harder than one could ever believe someone could sigh, the ancient man waved his hand in the air as if to signal completion.
Understanding the motion, the blond boy took a slow, calm breath, the cool wind of the mountain entering his lungs like ice.
The Abyssal Miasma had disappeared upon the visit of the hooded figure, an oddity that couldn't be a simple coincidence.
"If you have completed that question, then my next would be about the very substance that exists around us right now. What is causing the Abyssal Miasma around this mountain, and why can you seem to control it?"
As if in a flash, the elder's smile returned, his head nodding hard as if he agreed with the boy's query.
"A more pertinent inquiry, thou seekest, wherein lieth a more suitable pose of thy thoughts."
He licked his dry lips, the black balls of poison around his body shifting and then popping into red ribbons.
"To comprehend the origin of Abyssal Miasma, thou must initially grasp the nature thereof. Since a succinct exposition of its essence would transcend the bounds of our agreement, I shall restrict my answer to the latter portion of thy inquiry, wherein I shall nonetheless provide a more detailed explication."
Pausing and taking a breath, he delved into his explanation.
"In a most grievous conflict against the Ten Great Ones, thou hast required a means whereby thou couldst wage war against their Abyssal Tolerance and their malignant essence, which doth serve as a veritable font of portable Miasma. Many a year hath passed without solace or respite; yet, upon the rediscovery of Yggdrasilium, gleaned from forgotten remnants of the venerable World Tree, we have been empowered to forge arms of might, capable of deflecting the foul presence that doth assail thee."
Retracting the coattails of his robe slightly, he revealed a tightly fastened cross embedded into his armor, its surface a wood-like material that gleamed like the sun covered with endless runes.
Aaron's eyes widened with recognition, the sight so familiar and so clear to him that he instantly knew where he had seen it before.
Miss Santoro's staff… They're the same material!
Remembering the battle that had taken place only a few days prior, he trembled gently, the utter majesty of the two titans clashing something he could never hope to witness again.
"Henceforth, if thou art content with that response, may we proceed unto the third inquiry? Forsooth, when night doth descend, I shall be compelled to take my leave of thee, owing to the constraints that have been imposed upon me."
Nodding quickly, the blond boy thought hard for a moment, the ground beneath him close to crumbling backwards into the endless pit.
All of a sudden, a clear and obvious question emerged in the boy's mind, something he should've asked first, now evident.
"What's with this pit?"
Tilting his head towards the sudden drop, he watched as the executioner pursed his lips, a frown appearing at the corners of his mouth.
"Verily, I am uncertain, forsooth, I do not know."
Aaron's eyes widened with confusion; the idea that somebody as old and powerful as an Architect, much less the imprisoner of demigods, wouldn't know of such a place was purely absurd.
"Then…"
His question had been returned to him as he hadn't got an answer, his mind working in sets of complex rhythms to piece together what to ask.
Yet, throughout everything, only one thing stood out from all others, a possible request that he couldn't ask any other person in the world, perhaps even the universe.
The deity within his head was unwavering as it scanned the boy's thoughts, hearing the idea, its own interests not at risk, and therefore, it did not interfere.
"What do you know about the God Slayer?"
As the words left his mouth, he watched as Apollis's eyes expanded to the size of grapes, his jaw tightening and his cheek twitching.
"Thou hast posed a query that doth leave me in a state of considerable doubt, wherein I fear I could respond anew with nary a satisfactory reply. Nevertheless, I am convinced that if my supposition regarding thy connection with that gentleman be accurate, then hath he not seen fit to acquaint thee with this knowledge."
Inhaling hard, he spoke in one breath, disregarding any Knowledge Barrier that could possibly catch him in its web.
"In every realm and dimension that hath survived the tumult of the Celestial War, there existeth a singular constant that doth endure, unshaken and unwavering, irrespective of the land wherein it resideth. 'Tis the legend of a mortal who, in concert with a weapon of unutterable might, hath vanquished the very gods themselves. The Man Ordained by Fate, chosen to rend the fabric of existence, and the sole adversary whom the gods have ever confronted. He is a paragon of unyielding resolve, unmatched in prowess and unrelenting in purpose. Thus, I am compelled to impart unto thee a solitary counsel, which, in my estimation, shall prove of utility to one who, as I surmise, hath established communion with such a being of unparalleled might."
The wind ceased as if holding its breath for the words that would soon come next, the sun's radiance beginning to fall behind the horizon.
"There existeth no deed he doth not undertake to bring suffering upon the gods, notwithstanding whomsoever he draweth into his bloody grasp. Should he perceive thee as an impediment to his liberation from his place of confinement, thou shalt surely meet thy demise. Conversely, should he deem thee an asset, thou mayest receive his benediction, bestowed upon thee in a manner of his own choosing. Those whom he hath seen fit to bless shall be granted extraordinary fortunes, wherein they shall encounter unyielding success and boundless prosperity. Thus, he is, in all likelihood, the most perilous individual in the annals of existence, and one who hath earned this distinction through countless centuries of bloodshed and slaughter."
He paused as he stared deadpan at the blond boy who frowned back at him, the final words that came out of his lips sealing the question in its conclusion.
"Truthfully, he doth contrive to further his own fortune and hath orchestrated the ascent and descent of mighty empires, thereby seeking to justify his most heinous transgressions. Whilst being esteemed as the most exemplary of mortals, he serveth as a dire exemplar of humanity, a specimen most foul and detestable. His heart, thou seest, is as dark as the very coal that burneth, and his eyes, devoid of ardor or passion, do stare forth with nary a glimmer of love. Nay, there resideth not a spark of soul within his breast, nor a single bone of benevolence within his frame. And thus, to those who wouldst commune with this creature, thou must be aware that he hath not thy welfare at heart, and should he profess to do so, 'tis but a reflection of his own desires. Thou art naught but a mere instrument, to be utilized and cast aside at his whim. Beware, lest thou mistake him for a sage, a guide, or a patron, for he is, in truth, a parasite and a malefactor of the highest order."
The man reached around his head and repositioned his hood above his head, the pitch-black balls of Abyssal Miasma circling around him.
"In conclusion, the God Slayer, that most infamous of beings, is, in sooth, the very embodiment of the Devil himself."