Kobil.
His name was that of the man who fought Aslan to the death in the city of Kuramunz, belonging to the Honorless Tribe.
Though weak and ultimately siding with an Evil Deity in his plans, he faced Aslan proudly and died.
Believing until his last breath that his conviction was right, Aslan felt a pang of regret upon looking at the man.
Perhaps this was the path he himself might have chosen, meeting the predetermined destruction head-on.
Aslan felt a sense of kinship in that moment and thus steered events in a way that preserved the man’s honor…
“How…?”
That Kobil now stood before Aslan.
Stunned, Aslan’s mouth hung open, and Phey reacted first to the shock. Phey quietly closed their lips and glared at Kobil with eyes brimming with suspicion. The malice in that gaze was so clear that, had Kobil been anything other than a soul, it would have warranted caution.
Unlike Phey, who gripped their sword hilt silently, Aslan was preoccupied with piecing together the situation regarding the semi-transparent form of Kobil standing before him.
The figure of Kobil was unmistakably that of a pure human whose soul had not been taken.
Considering that most priests or believers don’t reach the afterlife because their souls are stolen, Kobil’s current state was quite unexpected.
Not all Evil Deities take souls—there are exceptions, though they are rare. Some deities destroy the souls of dead believers on the spot, showing no interest in human souls. Others, like the Dark Ram Herd, claim not to take souls at all.
Of course, this could be a lie; perhaps the Dark Ram Herd had taken Lewena’s soul.
So Aslan had anticipated a refusal, expecting something along the lines of “There is no such soul in this afterlife.”
But contrary to expectations, Lewena was alive.
This revelation triggered a panic attack in Aslan, plunging him momentarily into the abyss of the past.
Aslan had assumed that even Lewena couldn’t escape the grasp of divine forces.
‘Yet here stands Kobil? His soul hasn’t been taken?’
Even during their fight, there were no signs of priesthood, but that didn’t mean Kobil hadn’t pledged his soul to an evil deity in some other way. Aslan had suspected that Kobil’s scale shield might have been the price for his soul, but apparently, that wasn’t the case either.
Aslan stared blankly at the floating figure of Kobil.
Moreover, just because a soul isn’t taken by an evil deity doesn’t mean it can automatically be summoned. The soul must possess great purity to avoid being swept away by the countless souls in the afterlife, and it needs immense willpower to endure the indefinite wait before being called.
Willpower aside, Aslan never imagined Kobil’s stature would be so high.
Caught off guard by Kobil’s sudden appearance, all Aslan could do was look up at him as he crossed his arms.
Before speaking, Aslan hesitated, wondering:
‘Intimate…? But I killed him.’
Summoning a soul is akin to attracting the soul of someone with whom one shares intimacy.
Thus, Kobil’s presence here implied that, at least to Kobil, Aslan was considered intimate.
Aslan wanted to ask about this but realized it would be futile since souls lack vocal cords and conversation isn’t possible.
Though yes/no answers could potentially be elicited, Aslan doubted it would reveal the nature of Kobil’s perceived intimacy.
So Aslan simply said,
“Thank you. I was just in a difficult situation.”
Kobil responded with a lazy smile over his dour expression and shrugged.
Though unclear, Aslan somehow interpreted this as “You? Hardly.”
“I really was in trouble. I’m glad you’re here to help.”
Kobil looked astonished, widening his eyes as he gazed at Aslan, who then bowed his head while silently staring back at Kobil’s soul.
“I don’t know why you’ve come to assist me, but now that you’re here, I hope you’ll help.”
Of course, Kobil had likely come for that purpose, yet Aslan still bowed to request his aid.
Surprisingly, Kobil blinked in apparent astonishment, as did the rest of the Traveling Party.
“Eh, what? Can Aslan communicate with him?”
And indeed, the surprise seemed rooted in the notion of conversing with a soul, as Angie asked, staring intently at Aslan.
“Not really. I just… observe and guess.”
Disappointment emanated from both Angie and Kobil. Seeing Kobil’s overtly disappointed expression, Aslan gave a lopsided, bitter smile.
Despite the lingering confusion and unease brought on by resurfaced memories, Aslan’s indomitable spirit drove him to action.
As Aslan took a deep breath and spoke, Kobil nodded and watched him.
“I want to go to the Wizards’ city. Will you guide us?”
After hearing Aslan’s words, Kobil stroked his chin, nodded again, and floated off toward somewhere.
Aslan watched him move silently, then turned to address the group.
“Let’s go.”
*
The landscape of the afterlife stretched endlessly, much like an infinite desert.
Its beginning and end were ambiguous, making it seem as if walking forever wouldn’t bring one closer to any conclusion.
The Traveling Party walked quietly, using the single soul as a beacon, beneath an endless expanse of purple night sky filled with drifting mists and streams, creating a desolate and eerie atmosphere.
This explained why traveling quickly through the afterlife involved summoning a soul as a guide, particularly one that was both intimate and strong.
It was nearly impossible for humans, with their limited senses, to distinguish directions in this boundless afterlife.
Without moons, suns, or stars to guide them, there were no landmarks, and survival knowledge proved useless.
Thus, a guide from the afterlife was necessary.
A soul capable of finding invisible paths beyond human perception, guiding with the knowledge gained in life, and leading to the desired destination.
Aslan blindly followed Kobil, unsure whether he was fulfilling his role as a guide well or not. Tiamat and Phey still appeared displeased, while Ereta and Angie trailed behind silently, seemingly exhausted from observing their surroundings.
“Aslan.”
In the midst of this, Angie approached Aslan, tapping his armored shoulder and addressing him.
“Are you okay? Earlier… I wasn’t sure what was going on, so I just stayed quiet, but now I’m worried.”
Uncertainty and hesitation clouded her gaze.
Aslan glanced at Angie, catching Ereta’s subtle attention from behind.
It wasn’t likely Angie alone harbored these doubts. Ereta, ever eager to act once she understood the situation, had likely whispered to Angie, urging her to inquire.
Reflecting briefly on the situation, Aslan realized it was hard to discern his recent reactions objectively. Even identifying whether his panic attack stemmed from joy or sorrow would prove difficult.
Fortunately, Aslan’s intuition seemed correct, as worry tinged with uncertainty lingered on Angie’s face.
While aware of Aslan’s story involving his wife, Angie lacked the experience to fully grasp its complexity.
Even Ereta seemed oblivious, prompting Aslan to realize he couldn’t keep dodging these questions forever.
If Lewena was indeed alive, Aslan would eventually face her.
Ultimately, humans must confront their wounds, no matter how painful the battle.
The man, who disliked fighting but had never shied away from it, smiled sadly.
“I’m not okay. And probably won’t be anytime soon.”
Even after resolving the issue, things might not improve significantly.
Aware of his psychological struggles, Aslan made no effort to immediately rectify them. If it were solvable, he would have addressed it long ago.
Time likely wouldn’t heal this either. Twelve years had done little to dull Aslan’s pain, and he doubted confronting his trauma now would make much difference.
All that remained was endurance and combat.
Regardless of how Lewena’s reappearance might tear open old wounds, Aslan knew he’d have to fight. It was his only recourse.
Angie closed her mouth upon hearing Aslan’s calm acknowledgment of his distress, respecting his silence despite Ereta’s prodding.
As the group fell quiet, Aslan led them wordlessly, while Kobil paused, glancing back at the party before pointing downward.
As if indicating this was their destination. Aslan smiled gently in response.
“Thank you.”
At Aslan’s words, Kobil nodded as if acknowledging, and his form began to dissolve slowly into the air.
As his silhouette gradually faded, intricate patterns emerged on the ground below.
Recognizing these as similar to the ones used to open portals in the afterlife, Aslan gestured to the group.
Gathering near the glowing patterns, Aslan drew his sword from his waist, gripping it backward.
“Purity.”
White flames enveloped the blade, revealing a divine weapon forged by the gods. Pausing briefly to gaze upward, Aslan plunged the sword into the ground.
Kooowww!
A sound akin to air rushing into a vacuum filled the space, and the ground beneath them began to sink slowly. As the terrain gradually shifted, replacing the afterlife scenery, the solid ground eventually vanished.
“…Eh?”
The problem was that what replaced the ground was a harbor surrounded by a vivid blue sea.
Before the group could react to the sight of the water meters below, five massive water spouts erupted.
[!– Slider main container –]
