Chapter 156: The Scale (1)
After the fall of the Amimone Tower, a peculiar question lingered in Orthes’ mind:
“Why doesn’t Aegio’s Scale work?”
Among the relics in Orthes’ possession, the Scale of Aegio was perhaps the most venerable.
After smuggling the scale out of the Amimone Tower—technically posthumously approved, now that Kynemon had taken control of the tower—it seemed logical to expect the spirit of an ancient priest to appear, as had happened with other relics.
But no such event occurred. Whether he slept with the scale at his bedside or placed it above his head, no spirit manifested, neither in dreams nor waking moments.
“A defective product?”
Kaicle, however, confirmed that the scale brimming with immense divine energy was undoubtedly authentic.
Orthes had sought another ancient priest to solve this mystery after an unproductive conversation with the priestess of Estia. While the priest of Phoibos—the one described as knowing the most—had muttered cryptic phrases before vanishing, Orthes placed his hopes on Aegio’s priest.
Aegio was the preeminent god among the deities. Even the leader of the Aegio cult held a rank second only to the Pope and stood above all other priests.
If the ancient Divine Cult’s schemes to summon Orthes had any central figures, it was highly probable that Aegio’s priest played a key role.
Still, with the relic inactive, exploring its secrets wasn’t feasible amidst the urgent matters of late. Despite sending both the rebellious elements within the Amimone Tower and the former Tower Lord on a one-way trip to Blasphemia, Orthes had to focus immediately on the Tower Lord succession war.
Even after that, Orthes was busy preparing materials for Hydra Corporation’s general assembly. While Arabella handled the research and organization, Orthes still spent significant time editing and drafting scripts. He meticulously prepared answers to likely questions from both internal and external directors.
Though not overwhelming, Orthes’ schedule was certainly hectic. It was only natural that the investigation of Aegio’s Scale was deferred.
For now, Orthes placed the scale in a corner of his bedroom, intending to study it later when he had more time.
***
And so came today, when the Hydra Corporation assembly had concluded successfully. Satisfied with their progress in initiating their plans, Orthes and Carisia decided to take a rare early night off.
As Orthes lay down, free from the burden of scheming, Carisia barged into his room like she had on a prior holiday and claimed his bed.
Though initially dumbfounded, Orthes—ever her loyal subordinate—yielded the bed to his boss without complaint and resigned himself to the sofa.
In the drowsy haze of sleep, the two shared idle conversation before drifting off.
At last, the necessary weights were placed on the scale.
***
Where is this?
A peculiar sense of buoyancy accompanied by the surreal vagueness unique to dreams enveloped Orthes. Recognizing the situation was straightforward—it was his third time meeting an ancient priest.
It was time for Aegio’s priest to appear.
But why only now? Did the scale need some kind of “charging period”?
The hazy landscape of the dream gradually sharpened, revealing an expanse of blue sky. Beneath Orthes’ feet lay soft, white clouds.
“Floating on clouds, huh? Quite romantic and eco-friendly of you,” he muttered, scanning his surroundings.
There was no sign of the ancient priest. Orthes flopped onto the clouds, deciding to wait. After all, these spirits usually wanted acknowledgment for their deeds before they could rest.
As he lay there, a sudden thunderous rumble echoed—a sound like the roaring of thunder following a lightning strike.
Orthes turned his gaze skyward, puzzled. The clouds remained unmoving, and there was no wind. Yet something felt… off.
“Wait a minute.”
What he had mistaken for the sun was growing larger. No—it was coming closer.
As it neared, Orthes could make out its true form: the head of a giant made of lightning, draped in white clouds like a toga.
“I’ll ask—”
The giant’s majestic voice reverberated across the heavens, each word resonating like overlapping thunderclaps.
“Gold and treasures to ensure your comfort for life, and a return to your world. What will you choose?”
The question was unexpected. The first option aligned with Orthes’ current goals; the second harkened back to his initial wish upon arriving in this world.
The giant raised its right hand, revealing a massive version of Aegio’s Scale.
On the left side of the scale was a literal mountain of riches, while on the right was a single, unremarkable door.
Despite the vast distance, Orthes could clearly make out the door’s shape—a metal door with a simple lock.
It was the door to his old, cramped apartment.
“Is this some kind of personality test?”
The lightning giant remained silent, its intent clear: it wouldn’t speak until Orthes gave an answer.
“Could you shrink yourself a bit? It’s a pain craning my neck to look at you!”
His attempts at small talk were met with the same unyielding silence, leaving Orthes to ponder his choice.
“I choose… to return.”
Though Orthes had achieved much in this world, the prospect of returning to his humble but familiar life outweighed staying in a dangerous realm where a Mage King loomed.
The giant posed more questions—first offering glory, then power.
Each time, the left side of the scale changed to represent the new reward. At one point, a sword representing ultimate strength appeared, prompting Orthes to quip, “Would wielding that let me beat the Mage King?”
The giant didn’t answer, and Orthes again chose to return.
The pattern continued until the giant declared:
“This is your final question—”
As the clouds parted to reveal the final offering, Orthes massaged his temples in irritation.
***
While Orthes deliberated over his answer, Carisia was facing a similar dilemma elsewhere in the dream.
For her, the right side of the scale held not “returning” but the destruction of the White Light Tower.
“Choose—”
Carisia had also reached the giant’s final question. Unlike Orthes, however, the giant facing her was holding the scale in its left hand.
This wasn’t due to any special significance—it was because Carisia, upon seeing the giant, had immediately fired a full-power magical beam, obliterating its right half.
Normally, the dream’s logic would restore the giant, but a mage of Carisia’s caliber wreaking havoc in the dream realm was a force even it couldn’t fully counter.
Using its now-missing right half as a sacrifice, the lightning giant barely managed to suppress Carisia’s magical rampage.
The giant was silently grateful that Orthes hadn’t resorted to similar measures; otherwise, the relic itself might have been irreparably damaged.
“Orthes or the White Light Tower’s destruction…”
Carisia closed her eyes.
She opened them moments later.
“Orthes.”
“Why?”
Her reasoning was simple: it felt like the happier choice. But she didn’t share this with the lightning giant.
Instead, she tilted her head and smirked.
“Didn’t you say that was your final question?”
The giant hesitated.
“Ask what you wish, then. Are you the creators of Orthes?”
“We are not.”
The ancient priest of Aegio silently thanked the heavens for not appearing in human form, as Carisia’s golden eyes held an icy intensity reminiscent of the Mage King.
Maintaining its dignity, the giant quickly explained:
“The one you call Orthes still has a choice to make.”