Volume 8, Prologue: Beginning of the Grand End

Volume 8, Prologue: Beginning of the Grand?End

It was early dawn. There probably remained only about an hour until sunrise. The east horizon was red and stars have already disappeared from the sky.

The air was cold, but the sky was beautifully clear. Recent days were cold, but today was probably going to be the first warm day in a long while.

Here and there lights were shining in the streets. It was already long past the time for early risers to wake up. Smoke was rising from the chimney of a bakery. Today’s first transport ship arrived at the harbor and the crew started unloading the cargo.

It was the usual morning scenery of the town in Past God Island.

There was one ominous figure unsuitable for this peaceful town. It stood on the top of the beer hall that was closed for business, viewing the majestic Bantorra Library towering over the center of the island.

“Has this time come at last?”

The figure muttered. It was a woman clothed in black garments. She wore a long-sleeved dress, white gloves, and a black hat with a veil, so her skin wasn’t visible at all. In her hand she held a strange dagger with a blade made of stone.

It was the Memorial Weapon who granted people’s tales a continuation, the Passed Stone Blade Yor. Another one of his names was Lascall Othello.

“This is terribly abrupt, Ruruta Coozancoona-sama.”

Lascall said. If someone could hear him from the side, they would probably be confused. After all, there was not a single change in the behavior of the people in either Bantorra Library or the town. The sounds of kitchen knives wielded by housewives and servants could be faintly heard, and the smell of freshly baked pastries was drifting from the bakeries.

Fresh vegetables and meat were being sent from the first ship arriving this morning to the markets. Boxes filled with Books were being carried to the Library by the early-rising normal librarians and trainees.

Lascall kept muttering to himself on the background of this peaceful sight.

“In any case, this is the biggest possible incident that can happen to this world. Is today of all days not far too ordinary for this time to come? As someone who overlooks tales, it feels somewhat improper.”

There was a while of silence. Lascall then made a small, artificial smile.

“Oh no, this is such a small trifle, so there is no need to pay it any heed. This was merely my impression.”

Who was Lascall talking to? There was no one around. Lascall’s eyes were only directed at Bantorra Library.

“I am merely ascertaining it with my own eyes. If this would be the end, I will do nothing but keep on looking.”

He said and smiled.

The date was January 12, 1927. The exact time was 5:07 AM.

What was about to happen in the world at this very instant?

Only Lascall Othello knew the answer to this among all people on the surface.

All of the Armed Librarians and all of the Indulging God Cult had no idea what was happening and would not know what transpires from now on. Both Mattalast, who was protecting the secrets of Bantorra Library, as well as the Overseer of Paradise Minth, and even the Acting Director Hamyuts, were thinking that this would be a completely ordinary day.

“Who said this before… I believe it was Mattalast-sama?”

Lascall said.

“There are three kinds of ‘everything is normal’: A situation where truly nothing had happened; a situation where an incident had been prevented in advance; and a situation where no one was yet to notice what happened; only these three kinds.

The normal Armed Librarians and people of the world would think it was the first.

Hamyuts-sama, Mattalast-sama, Yukizona-sama, Yuri-sama, Bonbo-sama, and the Overseer of Paradise Minth would think it was the second.

However, it is actually the third kind.”

Lascall kept his monologue.

“Why had no one noticed this grave situation? They have not even tried noticing it. Even I, watching over the tales of people for so long, cannot help but tilt my head in puzzlement.

It is probably because they have not been trying to notice. Their gazes have been stolen by lies and schemes, and so they have not noticed the truth.”

Lascall suddenly looked down at his feet. The Armed Librarians had celebrated the end of another year in this beer hall just two weeks ago. Olivia and Mattalast, Hamyuts and the Armed Librarians… This was the place of the feast of liars, where both the deceivers and the deceived mingled together.

“Thinking back, this banquet of liars… It was an event fitting for the conclusion of this story. How pleasant, and how truly trifling.”

Lascall’s facial expression was hidden by the thin veil and so couldn’t be seen, but at this moment he was unmistakably jeering. No, not only just now. For two thousand years, while switching from one body to another, Lascall had always been wearing an artificial smile. It might have been her sneer directed at all humans.

“Mattalast-sama, who was trying to accomplish something by deceiving people, and Olivia-sama, who had been trying to achieve victory by pretending to have been deceived. Both of them were terribly foolish.

No matter how much you deceive or conceal, the truth will always exist. And even the cleverest of lies are powerless in front of that truth.”

Lascall, who had been talking to himself, noticed something. And he then spoke as if conversing with someone.

“Oh, have you finally noticed, Mattalast-sama?”

The one he spoke to wasn’t around there. He couldn’t hear his voice.

“Have you realized? Yes – a lie is powerless against the truth.”

Lascall sneered quietly yet deeply. And he then vanished as if melting on the roof.

Two hours passed since Lascall disappeared.

The emergency bells started ringing all over Past God Bantorra Island. That sound announced a great danger to Bantorra Library.

The date was January 12, 1927, a completely normal winter day. The long story continued until this day came. The Armed Librarians collected Books and protected them. The Indulging God Cult produced Books of happy people and offered them up to Heaven. At times fighting, at times cooperating, the two parties continually protected the secret.

Lascall could only nod his head at this imbalance. That morning was far too peaceful to serve as the conclusion of 2000 years.

January 12, 1927. On this day, the history of Bantorra Library was over.