Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO-Chapter 321: Aftermath Of The Observer

The Landship loomed in the distance, its massive silhouette standing in stark contrast against the shifting hues of Carcosa's sky.

As Kuzunoha and I made our return, the terrain beneath us rippled like a living canvas, reality itself bending ever so slightly under the weight of our sole memories and exposure that we received from the center of the spatial distortion.

The knowledge we carried back was heavy, though the greatest burden of all was the realization that there was nothing—nothing—that could be done about the god's corpse.

It wasn't simply an untouchable relic or an object beyond mortal comprehension. It was an absolute existence, a thing so far removed from the conceptual framework of interference that even the most potent of attempts to alter it simply ceased to be.

Physical tampering? Nullified. Conceptual distortion? Meaningless. The corpse was frozen in a state of perpetual finality, its existence both undeniable and utterly indifferent.

And yet, even as it remained beyond our grasp, its mere exposure had affected us. I could feel it in my bones, in the way my thoughts coiled in on themselves with new, unspoken understandings.

The Divine Grave wasn't just a dead thing—it was somewhat a fortunate catalyst as of sorts, something that imposed its presence upon those who stood before it.

I knew Kuzunoha felt the same; the sharp glint in her eyes betrayed it. Even Lupina and Verina, who had been at the periphery of the experience, seemed to carry an air of slight elevation—as if something within them had been subtly rewritten.

Perhaps that was the only tangible thing we could take from this encounter.

By the time we reached the Landship, the weight of revelation had settled across all of us, though it was Kuzunoha who moved with the greatest urgency, despite her usual haughty and normal demeanor.

Within minutes of our return, she called for a briefing, summoning every confidante aboard the bastion to the central chamber.

"The Divine Grave," she announced, her voice smooth, almost playful, yet sharp enough to cut through the room. "Is one day old. It also don't have much lifespan within Carcosa due to its sheer cosmic nature."

A murmur rippled through the gathered confidantes.

One day. One single day—for something so incomprehensibly vast, so utterly alien, to simply appear within Carcosa. The notion sent a shiver through the air, unspoken yet tangible. Even Verina, ever composed, shifted in her seat.

Kuzunoha chuckled lightly, as if amused by our unease. She lifted a hand, rolling her wrist in a lazy gesture, as if presenting an invisible object for display. "It is, as expected, imperceptible to those who have not stood within its presence. The bastioneers of Carcosa wander blind, their perception too dull, their minds too anchored to the mundane and ignorance to the divine.

"Unfortunately for them, we're too late to tamper anything about their faith."

Verina was the first to respond, her voice cutting through the atmosphere like a well-placed knife. "The empty bastion. I assume its fate is fully tied to it."

Kuzunoha snapped her fingers, pointing at Verina with approval. "An astute observation for you, Verina. Yes, the empty bastion—the one so eerily devoid of life, without a single trace of battle or decay—can be linked to the anomaly of the Divine Grave.

"Per our earlier deduction, an entire bastion, brimming with life, its people carrying on as they always have. And then…" She snapped her fingers again, this time with a sharp finality. "Gone. Not slain. Not consumed. Not even reduced to corpses. Simply… erased. A cessation so absolute that even the concept of their existence is left hollow."

The room fell into a weighted silence.

Viviane let out a slow breath, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows across her face. "They're gone, then," she murmured. "Not even a trace."

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Kuzunoha nodded, her expression unreadable. "Not even a whisper of what once was."

A death without recognition. A demise without understanding.

There was something utterly terrifying about that.

Kuzunoha's gaze swept across the room, measuring our reactions. Then, as if shifting the tempo of an unfolding play, she straightened, "Through my calculations," she continued, her tone now analytical, "I estimate that the Divine Grave will pass through Carcosa's time and space entirely within nineteen hours. Once it does, its influence will dissolve, and whatever anomalies it has birthed will fade into obscurity."

Lupina let out a small whistle, rocking back in her chair. "Nineteen hours. That's both a long time and not long at all."

Viviane folded her arms. "Then our best course of action is to wait."

"Exactly." Kuzunoha nodded. "If we still intend to proceed to Quruize Citadel, we must remain patient."

Verina let out a small hum of agreement, though her gaze remained distant, calculating. Charis, who had remained silent until now, gave a small nod, ever the quiet observer in this moment.

She seemed to be very wary of the aftermath of the expedition team encounter with the god's corpse.

As much as I wanted to comfort her, she needed to reach the conclusion of her own to have her own foundation stood tall.

Lupina frowned down at her hands, her fingers flexing as if feeling out something new. "I swear… I feel different. Like something's changed inside me."

Verina regarded her with a critical look. "That's likely the result of exposure. The god's corpse may have heightened our existential framework in some manner."

Kuzunoha grinned at that, twirling a lock of her silver hair between her fingers. "An excellent way to phrase it, Verina."

Lupina blinked. "So… I got stronger?"

Kuzunoha chuckled. "In a manner of speaking. You, me, and Narcissus—having stood before the Divine Grave—we have, in some way, been rewritten. A shift in perception, a heightening of our very being. A souvenir from our encounter with the corpse of a god."

Lupina's unease melted almost instantly, replaced by an eager grin. "Then it was worth coming along after all!"

I scoffed, amused. "You're not even the one who made that decision."

Kuzunoha watched us with mild amusement, then clapped her hands together. "Now then," she said, "We have nineteen hours to wait and three hours until the Ordeal of the Dusk. The Landship will remain near the Cliff of Nothingness, using the sheer existential presence of the Divine Grave to suppress the emergence of Calamity Objects.

"Of course, this also means we'll need to be vigilant. The Divine Grave is a double-edged sword. While it may deter the usual threats of the Ordeal, it may also birth new ones of its own."

Viviane nodded. "I'll keep watch and protect the bastion of any dangerous phenomenon."

Kuzunoha smiled at that, though her fingers still drummed against the table, betraying a thoughtfulness that lurked beneath her composed exterior.

"Ah, but enough heavy talk for now. We have a night ahead of us, after all. And who knows?" She flashed a teasing smile. "Perhaps we'll wake to find the Divine Grave has left us yet another little mystery to solve."

The conclusion regarding our next step was solid—there was no reason to rush forward when an anomaly of this scale was still in effect. We would wait it out.

Another matter was settled soon after. The Landship would remain near the Cliff of Nothingness. The Divine Grave, for all its enigmatic horrors, possessed an existential weight so overwhelming that it could act as a deterrent.

The Ordeal of the Dusk was approaching, and the Calamity Objects that would spawn throughout the night might be less inclined to emerge near something so… absolute.

Of course, there were risks. The Divine Grave itself could generate unpredictable phenomena—anomalies beyond our understanding. That meant Kuzunoha and Viviane would have to remain vigilant, watching for any disturbances that could spiral out of control.

The meeting ended on that note, a quiet but firm resolution settling over us. There were only three hours left until the Ordeal began.

I returned to my quarters, letting out a slow breath as I shut the door behind me. The echoes of the briefing still lingered in my thoughts, but I pushed them aside. There was something else I needed to do.

It was time to pay Black Daffodil another visit.

I settled onto the plush sofa, closing my eyes as I attuned my spiritual projection. The process had become almost second nature to me—an extension of my will rather than a strenuous effort. Within moments, my consciousness detached, and the world around me shifted.

The transition was smooth, almost graceful this time.

The chaotic void of my mindscape reassembled itself into a familiar drawing room—a space mirroring the grandeur of Kuzunoha's mansion. And at its center, as expected, Black Daffodil awaited me.

She had taken on a new appearance, as she always did. Tonight, her gown was a deep, shimmering indigo, reminiscent of a starless night. The patterns on the fabric swirled like liquid constellations, constantly shifting yet never breaking form. Her faceless void regarded me with its usual inscrutable amusement.

"You're early," she mused, resting her chin on her interlaced fingers. "What a pleasant surprise."

I stepped forward, seating myself across from her with a smirk. "I'm nothing if not unpredictable for you now."

She chuckled. "A dangerous trait, in times like these."