Chapter 206

She fell.

The branch looked ready to snap, but the rope gave way first.

After hanging a rope on the tree and fashioning a noose, the girl placed it around her neck.

After hesitating in anguish, the girl threw her body toward the ground.

For a moment, she flailed instinctively.

The state of the rope wasn’t good, it seemed.

That thing made by tying the stem into knots looked shoddy at a glance.

“Cough! Cough!”

The girl hacking violently was as white as snow—her hair, eyebrows, eyes, and skin tone all alike. Because of this, the blue outfit she wore stood out drastically.

It looked like fancy ceremonial wear, sewn together with luxurious materials. Lying down on the ground after a while, the girl gazed up at the pale, snowfall-kissed sky before weakly turning her head upon sensing an aura.

“Blahblahblah…”

“Blahblahblah…”

An unknown language.

Also, similar words flowed from the girl’s mouth.

Of course, there was no way for the observers to understand what those words meant.

The girl was helped up by some men.

Crunch crunch.

Somewhere along the line, cold bare feet had left faint tracks in the growing snow.

…

Based on countless scenes, it was clear that the civilization of this era—the world where this girl lived—was vastly different from the present.

Even so, the girl appeared to occupy a very special position there.

Judging by appearances, she was likely among the highest-ranking individuals within her nation.

Their lives were ceaseless struggles and wars.

As the weaker ones, they resisted and fought to survive.

Survival itself proved their strength, and inevitably, their power grew over time.

But…

The pristine-white girl constantly wandered amidst coagulated blood, rotting corpses, and swarms of insects hundreds of times larger.

Lost without direction or purpose, she endlessly roamed like a forlorn soul.

There were no enemies, no allies, no kin, no strangers.

Only pitiful, wretched souls remained.

Holding these tormented souls close, she approached a lone tree blanketed in deep snow once more.

Then, pulling out a small bronze blade…

This time, she slashed her neck.

Blood erupted, staining the pure white snow red as the girl collapsed lifelessly, continuing to dye the snowy field crimson.

…Days passed.

Struggling painfully, the girl rose again.

Once more, some people came to support her…

…And the girl endured both blame and praise, wracked with suffering.

One day, a god descended.

Everything began from the very tree the girl had devoted herself to.

A branch fell from the heavens and struck the ground.

Its connection to the sky was unbroken; its height and size were beyond comprehension.

And the fallen branch intertwined with the tree she had always revered and offered sacrifices to, transforming into something incomprehensible.

The deity spoke.

“Offer blood.”

“Blood…”

“Blood…”

Your faith, your soul, your body, your sincerity, your dedication, your heart, your neighbors, your love, your family, your bloodline, your friends, your compatriots, your race—all of it.

All the good, all the bad.

Without exception. Without remainder.

From afar, it was survival for the species.

But up close, it was nothing but despair and frustration.

There were no individuals here.

Only a self existing solely for everyone else.

The girl was no exception.

Thus, she willingly became the first to sacrifice her life.

The girl who couldn’t die kept dying tirelessly until death itself ceased to be possible.

As a result, the world was saved at least once.

Salvation was achieved.

But safeguarding the world didn’t mean preserving their kind or their lives.

The great tree eventually split in two—one part ascending to the heavens, the other descending to the earth.

After countless eons, the souls bound to the tree were granted new life and took root in the world.

…Was the tree some kind of ark?

Like the one often mentioned in myths.

From there, countless lives were born.

The first fae was born around that time too.

Around then, the worlds began merging.

As if fragmented pieces of the world were coming together, bit by bit.

The fae encountered other races besides themselves much later.

Exchange and harmony.

Conflict and conquest.

…And war again.

Great beings, transcendent entities, divine powers encouraged and promoted these things.

And those who practiced and followed their teachings.

There was no salvation or paradise there.

Not the salvation the girl originally hoped and waited for.

…It was all lies.

Ah, if only she’d known what kind of world this would be, would it have been necessary to struggle so desperately?

Right after such doubts arose…

That voice reached her ears.

A voice…

From somewhere far, far away.

From a presence that shouldn’t even exist.

It promised neither salvation, redemption, nor paradise.

Instead, it consistently whispered…

…Nothing but annihilation and destruction.

Pain and anguish that wouldn’t even arise in such endless obliteration.

It just kept whispering.

====

And now, all that remained was a pale world where sparse snowflakes slowly drifted down in front of a familiar little tree.

At that spot, the girl-like figure stood expressionlessly muttering to herself.

“You could say I’ve made a contract with demons.”

The pale girl from earlier was now speaking in a comprehensible language.

“Struggle, competition, endless battles, war—we can’t escape this cursed cycle.”

“…”

“Therefore, receiving salvation through destruction is our only option now.”

“So you’re pursuing the destruction and ruin of everything?”

“Yeah.”

“But isn’t that against the will of the Lord of this world?”

“…Perhaps the trials of destruction are meant to overcome. There must be alternatives and preparations for it. You already know that, right?”

“My younger sibling?”

Harsh as the story might objectively be, it doesn’t particularly affect me.

Maybe it could happen, maybe not. Just about that level?

“Even knowing it’ll fail, we still have to try. That’s the meaning of our existence, right?”

“To you, unfortunately, it can’t be helped. It’s been decided.”

“Troublesome.”

Maybe because they oversee the world from so far away, individuals mean nothing to them.

Perhaps treating an entire race as a single concept is actually the better approach?

“But do you expect me to throw myself into something I know will fail?”

“If you don’t, there’ll be someone next. This too is an endless cycle.”

“…Then why should I bother?”

“It’s unnecessary. Instead, you’ll pay dearly for abandoning your duty—right after your death when your body and soul separate.”

“Terrifying.”

“You’ve been granted special permission to enact great evil. So, enjoy life as your race often says. Your differing emotions, your stronger desires—they’re all foundations for that.”

“What about my own will?”

“There’s only submission or defiance.”

What a cruel tale.

Arbitrary and compulsory.

“I hate being dragged around like this.”

“That emotion and impulse aren’t yours either. They were made that way.”

“For what?”

“One who conforms to order cannot become a destroyer.”

“…So you want me to defy order but follow your will? Is that it?”

“Yeah.”

…Further conversation would just be a waste of time.

“I’ve tried looking for better options. I’ve searched everywhere…and ultimately realized this is the best choice.”

So stop agonizing over it.

“Complete annihilation and destruction beyond death…that’s our sole salvation.”

“That’s true. Intellectually, I have no objections. I fully understand.”

“The survival instinct, the happiness from coupling—it’s all fabricated falsehoods. For the species, it may be a foundation for progress, but for you personally, it’s only pain. You were made to feel that way.”

“Such a bleak reality.”

Love, romance…when analyzed this way, it really cheapens everything.

“Tell me, what do you intend to do? I’ll decide your treatment based on your answer.”

“So soon?”

“…”

Looking at her, I tell myself.

All that remains for her is frustration and despair.

Her endurance has worn thin, unable to bear any more resignation.

This must be the woman standing before me now.

Once, she endlessly sacrificed herself for her kin, nurturing and protecting the World Tree.

The World Tree became another ark, surviving eras of ruin and giving rise to future generations, providing them with a foothold.

But faith, salvation, paradise—all vanished into an endless cycle of torment.

Now belief, sanctity, purity—none of it remains.

Just a desolate wanderer clinging to lost ideals.

“We can never stop fighting, even if gods protect us. They’ll continue using that as an excuse to cast us onto battlefields, endlessly plunging the world into conflict. The fight between order and chaos…it’s nothing but sheer horror.”

“Correct.”

“…”

“And you push me into this abyss despite knowing how terrible it is. Or is it just letting me give up and die peacefully? Either way, what’s the difference? They seem the same to me.”

“You’ve rambled enough. It’s time to decide.”

“Hmph.”

No matter which path I choose, there won’t be anything pleasant.

They’re all easy choices in this moment.

Achieving greatness in history through grand wars, massacres, and empires might seem magnificent and glorious.

How many people sought to etch their names in history through slaughter and war?

If you look at hero biographies without romanticizing them, most heroes were just powerful brutes.

They weren’t celebrated for doing good.

They were exalted because they were strong, victorious, and overcame trials.

Covering up their misdeeds easily.

“I reject both of your offers. Neither seems enjoyable or fulfilling.”

“…Then die.”

She declared.

“And even after death, you’ll find no rest. Your soul will endure eternal suffering. If that frightens you, submit. That’s the only way to live forever.”

“…So go to heaven and become His sword. No, in this case…go to hell and become His sword. Something like that?”

“…”

“You’re asking me to become something akin to Trigrammaton. You must think quite highly of me.”

Looks like…

She doesn’t want me to die needlessly.

That’s why she’s pressuring me like this.

To instill fear.

And I vividly experienced the past she showed me.

As if I had personally gone through it.

That agony, that excruciating pain, that sense of failure…

It was a despair impossible to endure twice.

That’s why I understand.

The suffering she speaks of surpasses ordinary pain.

It’s an incomprehensibly absolute torment.

Though it seems like she’s cursing me,

Her manner is oppressive, shameless, and audacious.

In truth, she’s pushing me towards a path.

…Because she knows better than anyone what’s best for me as an individual, beyond the majority, righteousness, or the whole.

Since it’s a foregone conclusion whether you participate or not.

You were born with divine permission to commit evil.

So don’t hesitate and just follow.

Otherwise, all that awaits you is eternal suffering.

But if you fulfill your task, you’ll gain glory and peace instead.

“What does it mean to become a better version of myself?”

“…”

“Let me explain.”

Gradually, the absurd world fades away like waking from a dream.

I didn’t expect answers or reactions anyway.

“…Choosing the hard path over the easy one, I suppose.”

And only those who do so…

…Will manage to blaze trails others couldn’t, one way or another.

Most will fail and face disappointment.

Still…

I must believe without doubt.

I, who have the divine right to wield evil, destined to burn the world—I must believe I can.

Truly, I must believe without doubt.

“This wasn’t a battle between you and me, or the world and me from the start.”

Originally, this world…

The way I perceive it…

Accepting that perception…

It’s a struggle between me and myself.

“Fear, hesitation, anxiety—all stem from within me, after all.”

In the dark space, I slowly turned my back after removing my hand from the wall.

“If failure leads to the ending you’ve scripted anyway, why hesitate further?”

Eternal suffering in hell after death.

Most people are terrified by this unimaginable, baseless story, breaking out in cold sweats even in dreams.

But here’s the kicker:

If it’s unavoidable…

If it’s a future that will definitely come…

Then fearing it and being paralyzed by terror is just a loss either way.

Time keeps moving forward, my youth keeps fading, and my body continues to age.

“My mother was absolutely right.”

Don’t fear sin.

Fear your weakness in the face of that ugly sin.

And my father also said…

“Don’t let fear hold you back. Take another step forward.”

One teaching.

Another teaching.

Combined into one.

Giving me the courage to take this step forward.

“Hero…”

“Warrior…”

I’ve heard stories of Irene enduring all kinds of pressure, and my parents and others facing numerous trials and temptations. If I, who admired such tales, buckle under this trial…

…I’d have no face to show them, right?

“Lord of the World Tree? Even so, you weren’t wrong. Do what you must.”

I moved toward the small entrance.

“I’ll handle my own path from here.”

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