True Magician

Chapter 76

Rondel.

Did I wait for the moment when the group with the Japanese in it approached me? Nope. Something like a memory wipe would be weak, since they have an apostle in their group, so I had to exclude myself from their perception, which I'd screwed around in DxD.

Of course, they immediately started looking around, trying to find me. And all would have been fine, but the gothic lolita was still looking straight in my direction, as if she could see me. Anyway, that method didn't really work either.

I didn't want to linger in this world, much less become someone's curious animal, so I quickly retreated, heading deep into the city streets. My figure wiggled between alleys and narrow alleyways to get out of sight of the problematic group, and without realizing it, I had come to a wealthy neighborhood, judging by the buildings and their appearance.

The people I passed by also looked different: their clothes were definitely a head richer than any I'd seen before, their faces more well-groomed, and their jewelry shone brightly in the sun.

I found some medieval rich-looking tavern and went in there to wait out the storm. And now my carcass was lying on a bed in the rented room of this tavern, which I paid for with the coins created by 3rd magic. My eyes closed, and my hand slowly and affectionately stroked Tia, nestled on my chest.

So, since arriving on this world, I have found nothing that could point to the problem Zelretch sent me for. Unless, of course, you count that incident in the ruined village and the cultists being knocked back on their heads.

Now that I recall its details, a couple things strike me as odd. First, Anma himself and how we met. He was alone, practically wasted and relatively far from the village. I'd estimate it to be a kilometer or a kilometer and a half.

Of course, one could assume that he had somehow escaped from the hands of the cultists, but in that case, he certainly wasn't in one piece. There was a fair amount of blood underneath him, and an ordinary person was hardly capable of such a feat.

The place where I found him was also unusual. The energy level of life on that lawn was a bit out of sync with its surroundings. It was higher, slightly, almost imperceptibly, but still. And there were no animals or birds circling around the disheveled Anma. It was very strange that the smell of fresh blood didn't attract any predators or scavengers.

Secondly, ghosts. They are essentially the souls of the dead, and this too raises questions since the cultists were performing a sacrifice. Normally the soul should leave along with the flesh, but for some reason that didn't happen.

The very point of sacrificing anyone was to give up her soul. But those seven ghosts were practically tethered to the ground and it was as if they were waiting for someone. Someone who could not just deal with the wrongdoers, but cleanse them. Someone like me.

And the last point I'm curious about is the surviving villagers. Why are they so sure that I am not some local god or spirit that has taken the form of a human?

There are gods in this world, and they are quite real, as their apostles with supernatural powers also exist. What is the reason for such a firm idea that I am different? In theory, they could infer it based on my clothes, but I clearly saw a group with a Japanese soldier and locals present.

That means that contact has already been made, and it's entirely possible that some sort of agreement has been signed between this world and the other one from beyond the Gate, either for a truce or trade or something else. The clothes of the modern world could have been donated, or they could have been bought, so that option falls away.

Of course, I have an extremely and utterly insane idea in mind, but it doesn't make sense. And as a result, I have questions but no answers.

I furrow my eyebrows.