The mother who births herself.
A deity of evil bearing such a name was an exceptionally striking one in appearance.
In terms of power alone, it was stronger than the Supreme Divinity but equal to or slightly weaker than a predator—relatively weak among deities of evil.
This deity of evil resembled a bizarre amalgamation of a snake and a centipede, but more accurately, it was akin to a grotesque synthetic beast composed of all manner of creatures.
A monstrous entity filled with countless twisted and oddly transformed composite beasts where scales should have been present.
Its colossal body stretched from the beginning to the end of the universe, sprouting an innumerable amount of legs, each revealing traces of different beasts.
At first glance, it might appear as though this was a cosmic harmony-made monster, but in truth, it was an artificially created evil deity.
A biological monstrosity created to prevent the universe’s destruction.
A monster tasked with devouring all existing life forms, endlessly replicating itself, and surviving even in the farthest reaches of the universe. Its mission was to seed new life in the universe that would emerge after the current one’s demise.
From this arose the being known as “the mother who births herself.”
Of course, this mission had long been forgotten.
Now that the mother who births herself had infinitely split her own body and obliterated the universe, the mission had become meaningless.
Nevertheless, certain information could still be inferred from this.
That the mother who births herself grants her priests the form of beasts and bestows upon them remarkable regenerative abilities.
Coincidentally, Aslan received a letter that brought such information to mind.
It was naturally difficult to be certain based solely on the sudden news of someone becoming a priest or the unexpected transformation of everyone into beasts without any prior signs.
Still, Aslan reasonably suspected the involvement of an evil deity in this matter.
After all, wasn’t it an evil deity?
Their will and intentions didn’t necessarily carry any meaning.
Firstly, at the point where many humans collectively and suddenly transformed into beasts, there was only one conceivable entity.
To confirm his suspicion, Aslan summoned an authority greater than himself in this field.
A woman stood leaning on crutches, twitching cat-like ears while wearing an unpleasant expression.
Maria Aureus Meland’s protector and hybrid offspring of the mother who births herself: Catherine.
As she listened to Aslan recount the story, Catherine bared her teeth and growled, then relaxed when Richard made an awkward face, crossing her arms.
“So?”
“I’d like to hear your thoughts. You know…”
“That you think I, being a hybrid, might understand better? Is that it?”
Her tone carried a subtle undertone of hostility.
Aslan stiffened momentarily at the hostility before nodding. Catherine tapped her arm with her fingertips, revealing her discomfort.
Catherine soon countered.
“What kind of beasts did they transform into?”
Aslan recalled the detailed information he had read in the letter, noting how Olpasbet’s guards had hastily documented what they saw.
“Cows, horses, bears, wolves, sheep, crocodiles… There were all sorts of beasts. For some, two or more animals were mixed together, making it impossible to identify their original forms. Others were so grotesque they couldn’t be recognized at all.”
“Do you still have the letter?”
“Of course.”
“Hand it over.”
Aslan pulled the letter from his robes, and Catherine quickly snatched it and began reading.
Her meticulous eyes scanned the text as her cat-like golden irises slowly traced the words. Watching her, Aslan leaned back against an orc barrel behind him.
The wait wasn’t long.
“That damn bitch’s power—it’s accurate. No doubt about it.”
“The damn bitch,” referring to the mother who births herself, came from Catherine’s mouth. Aslan nodded upon hearing it, and Catherine continued folding the letter.
“They’re not hybrids or priests like me. They’ve merely been transformed into monsters by her power. Though…you probably already know that best.”
Her tone was mocking, sneering, or perhaps sarcastic, as Catherine tossed the letter aside. Aslan caught it and nodded.
The number of priests serving the mother who births herself wasn’t particularly large.
But the mother who births herself grants powers to her priests.
Powers to mutate humans or animals under certain conditions, creating composite beasts or transforming them into animal forms.
The incident in Olpasbet was definitive proof of this.
A power close to outright monstrosity.
The grotesque forms of these irrational monsters, lacking any sense unless they were priests or hybrids.
Evidence that the mother who births herself had interfered.
Finally convinced, Aslan sighed as he slipped the letter back into his robes.
The issue wasn’t this.
It was why and how her influence had reached there.
Upon hearing Aslan’s concerns, Catherine shrugged with a look of mild irritation as she glanced down at him.
“How should I know? Everyone’s dead, so the possibilities are obvious. Either a priest used the power and died, or somehow found a way to activate it later or from afar.”
Presenting plausible speculation while withholding further information, Aslan guessed the latter was more likely.
Priests are tools of the divine. While prepared to sacrifice their lives if the deity so wishes, they aren’t entities that demand mass suicide indiscriminately.
At most, they’d invoke a veil of mercy, and generally speaking, priests don’t throw away their lives recklessly.
Thus, Aslan believed it was the latter.
What remained was why such an act was committed.
The monstrous transformation aimed at the people of the Northern Empire implied one of two things:
Either it was intended to obstruct Aslan’s journey to the Northern Empire, or something significant was happening there that had drawn them into it.
“If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave. Master Richard, I shall visit another time.”
“Ah, sure. See you later.”
The hybrid woman maintained a disrespectful attitude toward Aslan but showed deference to Master Richard.
Watching her retreat, with her cat’s tail and ears subtly trembling, Aslan remembered something.
While the number of priests serving the mother who births herself was small, the number of hybrids was considerable and scattered across the world.
Historically, hybrids were clearly visible and became objects of fear in common society, inevitably becoming subjects of rumors.
If this event in the Northern Empire wasn’t a singular incident but deeply intertwined with its history,
Then perhaps the rumors and prejudices mentioned by Lumel weren’t mere hearsay but were instead based on actual events, interwoven with truths.
If that were the case, the situation would become far more complex and dangerous than Aslan had anticipated.
Initially planning to prepare thoroughly and travel to the Northern Empire as safely as possible, Aslan now realized he couldn’t do so.
The situation would soon slip out of Aslan’s control and become uncontrollable.
Thus, it needed to be suppressed early or preemptively.
Aslan had to head to the Northern Empire as quickly as possible.
While Aslan thought and acted accordingly, something was indeed happening far away, beyond the sea.
*
The front waters of the Northern Empire, a barren wasteland greeted by rough reefs and biting sea winds, where a massive ship was breaking apart amidst a storm.
“Aaaah!”
Someone’s scream accompanied the flight of something immense.
A giant harpoon-like object struck and shattered the mast, which collapsed helplessly, crushing a man beneath it to death.
Though a notable tragedy, no one paid it any attention.
The people aboard the ship drifted aimlessly, carrying within them pain and death, screaming and dying rapidly.
Dying while spilling their intestines, being torn apart by beasts, pierced by charging moose, split in half by swinging forelimbs—humanity faced sheer catastrophe.
Amidst this chaos, a man moved.
Without uttering a battle cry, the copper-colored blade swung silently.
The honest trajectory of the thrust cut through the rushing beast’s waist and cleanly withdrew.
The beast let out a roar. As the severed torso spilled its entrails onto the floor, the man pivoted and thrust backward.
With a crunch, the blade pierced through flesh and bone, killing the beast—a hybrid of bear and badger—as it writhed in death.
Pulling out the sword, the man surveyed the approaching beasts while brushing his body with his other hand.
Thud! The dagger he threw simultaneously pierced the eye and forehead of a wolf-like creature, slipping past him.
Retrieving the dagger from the corpse, the man looked around. Under the rain, he appeared calm.
He was undoubtedly a unique individual.
His naked frame, devoid of armor, glowed faintly emerald, adorned with swirling blue tattoos spread across his body.
His honed physique steamed under the rain, fully functional, and the few daggers or tools strapped to it lay ready for instant use.
Contrasting his threatening body, his face was serene.
His pupils emitted a vivid gray light, imbued with the glow of mana, while his jade-green face bore lush black beards and white tattoos.
Completely soaked in both foreign and his own blood from head to toe, the man shook off the crimson from his copper sword and surveyed his surroundings.
He was Green.
A veritable prototype of a warrior.
And yet, the magic that accompanied him made him even more distinctive.
Ki-eeeng! A grayish magic swept over his body, emitting a sound unfitting for its nature, swiftly healing wounds and closing fissures.
High-level restorative magic from the Restoration School.
An art that could not exist without medical and anatomical knowledge grounded in magical ability.
Top-tier restoration magic, surpassing mere proficiency.
It was natural that the beasts, growling lowly, retreated cautiously.
No matter how much damage they inflicted, he healed instantly.
His mana seemed limitless, and his treatment swift, leaving no room for openings.
He was a dangerous presence, a challenging warrior.
The beasts surrounding the Green warrior sensed this.
At his feet lay countless beasts incapable of such resilience, lacking reason.
Each capable of tearing an adult human to shreds.
Yet, they struggled to kill this single Green warrior.
The encirclement resembled an execution ground.
A humiliating spectacle; despite numerical superiority, they were outmatched.
Some beasts, their remaining sanity consumed by humiliation, lowered their bodies and growled, preparing to charge.
Before they could, something stepped forward.
Crack! The heavy deck groaned and caved under the weight of its steps.
This something was even more peculiar than the Green warrior.
Hoof-like appendages resembling those of a cow, long muscular legs akin to a horse, and bear-like forelimbs walked forth—an abomination.
A monstrous figure standing four meters tall, possessing carnivorous teeth and the head of a moose.
This being stepped forward and stood among the beasts.
With eyes glowing red, it looked down at the Green warrior and spoke in an incongruous high-pitched voice.
“Green-skin, let us make a deal.”
It was a formidable warrior, indeed.
