Chapter 223

The queen atop the white horse immediately detected the anomaly.

‘The incoming numbers are dwindling.’

Moreover, some changes began to occur in the state of those who had been charging recklessly.

‘Did they manage it?’

Thanks to the abnormally grown crimson trees, she couldn’t discern the situation inside the eroded area, but at least it was clear that things were heading in a positive direction.

‘If this keeps up….’

But it’s still unknown.

Even a seemingly advantageous battlefield situation could easily be reversed. It could shift entirely to the opposite extreme.

Because she had encountered such scenarios countless times before.

====

I…

have no right to decide someone else’s life.

That doesn’t mean I won’t kill those who need killing.

Misiltain scratched her helmet and embedded itself into the ground beside her face.

-!!!!

A whirlwind of complex and manic emotions surged through her eyes and face.

And toward that expression, I thrust Gorgonyon.

To be precise…

…because making contact held meaning.

Tap.

Then, I read.

If we cannot hear another’s circumstances from their own lips…

…we must look within.

…

……

A figure with a face covered in pure white cloth shouted. Their voice reminded me of an old man.

The emotion embedded in that voice seeped into one’s will, masquerading as passion while spilling out anger and hatred.

“The snake that gave the fruit of knowledge to the first humans! It is not an evil entity that engraved original sin into our hearts. It is a true liberator and guide.”

If obtaining knowledge requires committing original sin…

then so be it.

“Who is the one that calls us sinners, locks us away in the garden of paradise, and cultivates us as they please?”

Tetragrammaton.

Many call Him Lord, both the heavens and our father.

“But even He is nothing more than a δημιουργός (Demiurge). Is the creator omnipotent? Is the creator omniscient?!”

Where is the guarantee that the creator is good?

What if the creator harbors malice?

“Therefore, he is an evil δημιουργός (Daemonurgos).”

Also,

“The one who offered us the wisdom and truth called the Tree of Knowledge is the rebellious will.”

True Samael,

yet you too have fallen.

Was your power insufficient?

Your wisdom lacking?

Your omnipotence wanting?

Or…

was your will inadequate?

“To realize that this world is a flawed garden filled with evil—this knowledge can only be attained by someone awakening others!”

Thus, only we know the truth about the world.

“We must resist! We must stand against it! We must remain awake to avoid falling into their malicious traps! Whether it’s the world’s notions of good and evil or its judgments of right and wrong—it’s all traps set by them! Traps designed to keep us eternally cursed, unforgiven, and barred from the truth forever! Traps of despair, ignorance, anonymity, discouragement, and distrust!”

There will be no light there.

Only despair and frustration will overflow.

“We must not stop fighting. But if we, who are weak and hideous, find it impossible, then we must create our own god.”

In a dark ravine.

As the light fades in the ravine,

a white figure standing on a small platform preaches, proclaims, and orates to the many white figures below.

I… don’t know.

It doesn’t register in my ears.

It doesn’t imprint on my eyes.

I feel nothing.

My emotions are dried up.

I don’t even know when it started.

Thinking isn’t easy.

Because my head has always been numb and foggy.

“And this god! Our created δημιουργός (Demiurge) declares today’s birth here with a heart full of cries!”

He gestures.

All I see is a presence cloaked in white cloth and attire.

And what follows that presence’s signal.

Weakly, I urge onward.

Below the platform, even more people murmur incomprehensible phrases toward themselves.

“The heavens may be imperfect, or perhaps the origin of evil. We do not yet know. Thus, hating it is also ignorance. After acquiring knowledge, we shall hate and resent. We shall discard reckless and irresponsible emotions and explore their realms for the sake of fundamental knowledge alone…”

This is!

Our mission and destiny.

“Until the day we break the false egg laid by the false one and recognize the true Lord. Until the day we approach eternity, eternal life, and eternal wisdom.”

He stretches his hand again and points at me.

“Her name is Nebro. Her surname is Demiurge. She will become the first god created from us.”

Thus, she will…

“Break all the false rules and laws of this world like the shell of an egg.”

Pray. And agonize.

“To recognize the true God.”

…

……

……..

Though the face was similarly concealed in cloth, this man’s voice was somewhat tolerable—it sounded like a lullaby.

“Pleroma shares a connection with mana but must be approached differently from mana. The term ‘mana’ actually originates from dragons and ancient races. Even during the Vera Empire era…”

“…”

Boring explanation.

But I grasped the gist.

I extend my hand.

Then, following his request, I gather my consciousness.

A source of crimson light extends outward.

Its size filling my palm, though minuscule,

the crimson glow brightens enough to illuminate the entire room.

“Is, is this possible?! You truly… Are you really the Deity spoken of by the Seer?”

“…”

Know what.

My head hurts, so I don’t want to think.

Thinking about anything makes my head hurt.

So, I’ll think about nothing.

As long as I do what I’m told, no one will say anything.

…

……

……..

“There truly exists the bloodline of the gods.”

“Distinguishing between what should be doubted and trusted is also ignorance. Strive so that ignorance does not consume you.”

“Yes, I will bear it in mind, O Seer.”

They’re just rambling.

“To handle profound matters requires complete knowledge. Not even the slightest difference, akin to a speck of dust, is permissible. That is equivalent to not knowing at all. Knowledge is predicated on being complete and perfect. Therefore, if it is incomplete, it means you do not know.”

Then I know nothing.

I don’t even know who I am, nor do I care to know.

I’ve never been curious.

I am simply… nothing.

…

……

……..

“Execution.”

The verdict pronounced from my mouth instantly ends someone’s life and will.

“Execution.”

I merely act according to what I’ve learned.

That’s what they expect of me.

It must be the ideal form they desire from the fabricated false deity.

…

……

……..

“Lucesia?”

That’s my name.

Moreover, he claimed I was his daughter.

…What a strange guy.

I could’ve killed him, but his weird actions made me miss my chance.

Big trouble.

This is bad.

Even as a false deity, I shouldn’t have made such a mistake.

Where did I go wrong?

And… am I really human? A daughter?

Ridiculous.

How would you prove something like that?

Among the information I’ve heard recently, this is the most useless, meaningless, and irritating content.

But this won’t shake me.

The Enlightened One already warned me that such false ones would endlessly try to sway me.

Ultimately, it’s just another level of trial.

Storms and tribulations always come eventually.

Even if this brings a small disturbance and a slight confusion,

…it won’t affect me.

Because I have the mission to achieve truth for the believers who wish it.

…

……

……..

“It took too long.”

That person won’t rise again.

Despite continuously spouting nonsense until the end, it doesn’t matter.

Because he won’t appear before me anymore.

====

“This… is?”

Something has gone horribly wrong.

If everything I gleaned from her memories is true…

It happened then.

-Aaaaaah!!!

The Demon King screamed, shaking all over.

The problem was…

The armor she wore seemed to take on a will of its own, swelling in volume and rushing at me like a wolf or snake’s maw.

“…”

I immediately retreated five steps into the shadows.

-Uh, ugh!

Perhaps due to the fragments of black armor flying into the air,

The current appearance of the Demon King, Lucesia, resembled a fragile woman.

She collapsed onto the ground in a red dress that looked practical.

Despite only losing her armor, she appeared incredibly unprotected.

“!!”

She clenched her teeth and struggled mightily to rise, but judging by her condition, it didn’t seem easy.

However…

The scattered armor reassembled in mid-air and began forming a humanoid shape.

It was twice my size.

…An armor reacting to the Demon King’s crisis.

Although it seemed odd to attribute ego to it,

its intent was clearly conveyed.

The writhing black armor stood tall, gripping a dark sword with both hands and raising it vertically.

Crack!

The sound of metal grinding echoed briefly from how tightly it gripped the sword.

Despite appearing frail and precarious,

for some reason, it didn’t seem like it would fall easily.

“…”

And.

Seeing the stance it took and the grim scene it stood in, I involuntarily felt a deep sense of sorrow.

“…”

I suppressed my breath.

Then, mimicking the other side,

This side also raised the sword.

Vertically, forming the Obsidian Sword freshly conjured.

Para.

Both a parade and a knight’s etiquette, a mutual respect ritual.

Though technically useless as a response,

somehow, this time it felt necessary.

Eventually, we were placed on the same starting line but…

the process was clearly divided.

Fortes.

While I held the Obsidian Sword vertically with both hands at my left waist,

The other side…

Grate.

Rather than holding the sword on the shoulder or a similar stance,

He lifted it high above his head with both hands.

Not Grate.

That’s… Paviam.

If all downward motions in our swordsmanship are called Paviam,

his posture could rightly be called the starting point of Paviam.

“You… are thus.”

[…]

He swung his sword down.

Despite the distance being at least four steps away,

the descending sword came rushing toward me as if thrown or charging.

Clang!

I blocked it.

I quickly diverted it using Bettyta to the left and right,

but the Paviam wasn’t over yet.

At the moment of contact, it injected even more force, attempting to slice through upon contact.

After finally deflecting it,

he immediately lunged forward.

Necata.

I used Bettyta similarly, lowering my stance to flow past his thrust trajectory, then transitioning through Fortes-Bettyta-Grate to interrupt his sword momentum.

However, he countered with upward strikes, thrusts, and downward slashes.

Punita-Necata-Paviam.

“Not Grate.”

That’s definitely… Paviam’s beginning.

“You… are thus.”

[…]

His sword comes swinging down.

Clearly, the distance was at least four steps away,

yet the descending blade rushes toward me as if hurled or charging.

Clang!

I blocked it.

I deflected it swiftly with Bettyta to the left and right,

but his Paviam wasn’t finished yet.

At the point of contact, it poured in more strength, trying to sever upon mere touch.

After finally managing to deflect it,

he immediately lunges forward.

Necata.

I mirrored Bettyta, lowered my stance to flow around his thrust trajectory, and promptly transitioned through Fortes-Bettyta-Grate to cut off his sword’s momentum.

However, he countered with upward strikes, thrusts, and downward slashes again.

Punita-Necata-Paviam.

‘Totally…’

He uses it completely differently from me.

For me, these three moves—downward strike, thrust, upward strike—are close to lethal techniques aimed at decisively ending an opponent.

You can use them lightly, but even without doing so, they’re sufficient for subduing or incapacitating an opponent and inflicting serious injuries.

Since including Parade, four movements alone are enough.

But this incorporeal armor existence is different.

It solely aims to kill the opponent.

Once it bites, it won’t let go.

Though he utilizes Para-Grate-Bettyta-Fortes,

at least his usage and emphasis differ greatly from mine.

Additionally, the reason why he handles the sword this way now makes perfect sense to me.

“To you, I also have questions…”

Crack!

“But for now, I’ll match your rhythm.”

After all, what’s in front of me isn’t exactly a corpse but is practically the same as one.

However,

even so,

I decided to try understanding his futile determination, just a little.

Even though our swords are touching, we both understand each other better than anyone else, knowing exactly when to strike, withdraw, flow, and knock down.

But the difference is clear.

He undoubtedly walked the same path as me, a fragment and trace of it.

But the current me…

has reached an unreachable height that he couldn’t attain.

And proclaimed that very place as my domain, becoming the unique master of another world.

I possess a world and the pillars that uphold it.

And for him, having lost all of that,

“…”

Even if he repeats the cycle of death and awakening thousands of times,

he won’t be able to reach it.