Chapter 2

〈Lindholm Spirit Mountain〉.

There was a spirit mountain to which all living creatures were said to go after death. The spirits of creatures that reached Lindholm Spirit Mountain would change their destination based on the size of their lingering attachments; some would ascend to heaven, while others would wait in a corner of the mountain to resolve their attachments.

--- A place for the veneration of souls.

At the summit of such a Lindholm Spirit Mountain, there was a place where particularly powerful spirits with lingering attachments gathered.

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"The interdimensional grass was picked."

"Seriously? It's going well, isn't it?"

"Can we really say it's a success if the soul doesn't actually transfer properly?"

"That's true, but the fact that the interdimensional grass planted here connected with the interdimensional grass in another world is a miracle in itself."

Several voices echoed there.

The summit, covered with uneven pebbles.

The cold wind blowing and the remnants of snow scattered around.

In this space of white and gray, spirits with translucent bodies—

"Still, it's suffocating with a hundred spirits gathered. Hey, move a bit further away."

"Don't say that. Everyone is worried. We're waiting for our child to be born."

A total of a hundred spirits.

In the center where these spirits gathered, there was one body that had physical form.

It lay on its back, its white hair fluttering in the wind.

It didn't move at all, like a dead person.

"We managed to create a physical body from the remnants of our souls, but the important part, the 'inside,' is missing. This is worse than a dead person. It's a doll."

"The child who will resolve our lingering attachments. The body is a collective of us. It surely has the potential. But it's no good if the inside is a puppet."

"Being greedy is self-destructive. —Although we're already destroyed."

"We're not being greedy. It's not about having or not having talent. If a soul with noble and strong will, one that won't be defeated by the harsh wind, comes, I won't ask for anything else."

"That's being greedy. But whatever. First, we need to see if it really comes. Souls can't be captured in this world. Those that ascend to the sky are swallowed by the 'Heavenly Sea of Souls,' and those that come to this spirit mountain are all souls with missing parts."

"We are no exception. Therefore, to resolve our lingering attachments, we can only call a healthy soul from another dimension."

"Right. Anyway, as Tyrant said, the real question is whether it can really come over. The magic I attached to the roots of the interdimensional grass has indeed crossed worlds. The roots have connected with the roots on the other side. When the flower blooms, the gate will open."

"Everything has been left to miracles, but so far, it's gone well. —Honestly, I never even saw interdimensional grass in my lifetime. I thought it was a fairy tale."

"Everyone thought so. I've never seen it either. And seeing the interdimensional grass really cross worlds, surely no one has ever seen it before."

Numerous voices flew.

Men's voices, women's voices.

All of them were somewhat high-pitched.

"---The interdimensional grass is about to bloom. I'll trace the magic to see who made it bloom."

"Be careful. If your consciousness gets trapped in the gap between worlds, everything will fail."

"Make sure to guide the soul of our son."

"Leave it to me. We won't fail now that we've come this far."

One of the spirits.

A tall, slender man with a gender-neutral beauty, nodded.

Immediately after, the man's body vanished as if blending into the wind.

The other spirits watched him disappear with solemn expressions.

Among them, someone said, as if in prayer,

"---Come, child of the heroes."

The voice dissolved into the sky and flew far, far away.