As Aslan and Ereta arrived at the forest and paused briefly to rest, the sun gradually rose.
A mere few hours, at most three hours of rest. Despite the long chase and pursuit, it was a short break, but it was enough for Aslan. It was also sufficient for Ereta, who merely had to follow along.
Ereta shook off the gentle wave of drowsiness enveloping her body as she pushed aside the cloak wrapped around her and looked up.
Aslan had climbed a tree and was scanning the area with his eyes while greeting the rising dawn.
The trail led deep into the forest. A sticky mana could be felt from that trail.
The same kind of ominous mana was emanating from somewhere deep and dark within the forest.
“Hmm,” Aslan let out a sound tinged with fatigue and sleepiness and descended. The sound of his landing was barely audible.
“Wild Wizard… was it? Do we really have to exterminate them now?”
Ereta asked this while rubbing her eyes. Though she couldn’t sense the mana, she could feel the foreboding—an unsettlingly clear sense of dread.
Looking at the forest where this ominous feeling originated, the two conversed.
“If we don’t catch them now, they’ll only get stronger.”
Aslan said. There was no flaw in his statement. Such Wild Wizards grew day by day, awakening their magic, so there was no telling how powerful they might become if left unchecked.
But that was assuming they chose to fight.
“…Do you know about the Sanctuary of Cosmic Inevitability at the edge of this continent?”
Aslan nodded. The Sanctuary of Cosmic Inevitability was located on a peninsula at the far eastern end of the Vida Kingdom.
“Their influence extends throughout the entire Vida Kingdom. This forest is also part of their territory. I think it would be more efficient to release this Wild Wizard and just pass by.”
Aslan didn’t interrupt even though he knew the expected answer was coming. Instead, he seemed to listen attentively, keeping his gaze on Ereta.
“If we let the Wild Wizard go, there will definitely be a clash with my former people. We don’t know how much they will grow, but we can predict that losses will occur when my former people hunt down the Wild Wizard.”
A Wild Wizard who manipulates souls. Even an ordinary Wild Wizard was terrifyingly strong and a prime target for early extermination, meaning this one would possess a force that even priests would find formidable.
That was what Ereta focused on.
“While weakening the forces of the Sanctuary of Cosmic Inevitability, we wouldn’t suffer any losses ourselves. Wouldn’t that be more efficient?”
A rational and efficient proposal. Knowing that Aslan might agree depending on the situation, he nodded.
“That is more efficient. But we can’t do it that way.”
“Why not?”
“This forest is far from that peninsula. There are numerous fiefs and villages along the way, and many merchants travel through here. If we let it go, countless people will die, and their spirits won’t even be honored.”
To Ereta, this thought process was incomprehensible.
“It’s right to kill it now.”
“You might die trying to save those people’s lives. If you die, you won’t achieve your purpose, will you?”
A faintly chilling voice. Upon hearing this, Aslan slightly turned his head to face Ereta.
There was almost no emotion in his gaze.
This was Ereta.
An irredeemable evildoer. An evildoer whose disregard for life stemmed fundamentally from having been a priest.
But an evildoer nonetheless—not someone beyond reason like an Evil Deity.
Aslan, being merely human, had no right to judge other humans.
He was merely a human from Earth trying to return home.
His motivation to kill and punish Evil Deities came solely from the fact that if he didn’t, no one else would.
It was akin to repaying everyone who had lost something to Evil Deities.
On the other hand, what about Ereta before him?
Aslan gave neither forgiveness nor absolution to Ereta.
Ereta was an evildoer and would remain one.
That wasn’t a reason for Aslan to punish her.
If she attacked, he would kill her; if she tried to commit evil before his eyes, he would intervene. But Aslan saw no reason to kill Ereta when his strength was too precious to waste.
He needed to gather humans, regardless of good or evil, to fight against Evil Deities who transcended human morality.
Punishing Ereta or allowing her to be punished could wait until later.
Aslan approached Ereta. Only then did Ereta seem to realize what she had said, flinching and stiffening. When she saw Aslan’s extended hand, she closed her eyes.
Perhaps expecting a blow, she tensed her body slightly in anticipation.
Aslan gently placed his hand on Ereta’s shoulder instead.
“…”
When Ereta opened her eyes belatedly, Aslan met her gaze and spoke.
“Your opinion is correct. That method is undoubtedly more efficient. I’m aware of that, and I’ve thought about it too.”
“Then…”
“But the path I intend to take isn’t the efficient one. You know that, don’t you? It’s an impossible path.”
Ereta couldn’t immediately respond and closed her mouth.
Killing a deity—it certainly seemed like an impossible goal.
“Do you know what’s necessary to walk an impossible path? Not efficiency. It’s meticulous struggle and effort. Careful and deliberate actions without overlooking any variable.”
Aslan moved his hand from Ereta’s shoulder. Gently placing it on her cheek, Ereta’s pupils trembled slightly.
“I will kill all the deities and change the world. If I choose the easy path in dealing with just one Wild Wizard, I won’t even reach the point where I can kill a deity.”
Aslan lightly tapped Ereta’s cheek and withdrew his hand.
“I’ve already accepted my trials. I’ve decided to fight adversity. So, you don’t need to worry. …Still, I appreciate you discussing this seriously.”
Ereta remained dazed, absently touching her cheek. She understood Aslan a little better now.
Though his methods were hard to scrutinize, Aslan possessed a very unique set of values—values that seemed alien to this world, extremely unique.
She noticed Aslan heading deeper into the forest just in time and gasped softly.
When Aslan turned back at her sound, Ereta hesitated momentarily.
“What do you plan to do?”
He had said he would kill the Wild Wizard. He surely wouldn’t act recklessly without a plan.
Indeed, Aslan had a plan.
“Let’s try talking first.”
While Ereta blinked in surprise at this plan, Aslan smirked slightly.
It was quite common for hidden truths to lurk behind such ‘side quests.’
Since everything has cause and effect, understanding this was natural for Aslan, the gamer.
So, the first step was conversation.
Aslan entered deeper into the forest with Ereta.
The deeper they went, the stronger the trail became.
So strong, in fact, that the owners of the trail began to reveal themselves.
Specters, precisely soul-crafted specter-like monsters.
Aslan observed these specters watching him and Ereta from the shadows of the forest while gradually advancing deeper into the woods.
The deeper they ventured, the more the forest seemed to twist as if it had its own will. The twisted forest threatened anyone who dared enter its unseen landscapes.
Bizarre trees twisted and coiled around each other, growing as if using each other as pillars. They appeared to have taken this grotesque form centuries ago, showcasing their odd shapes.
With thick leaves casting shadows overhead, the forest stubbornly remained dark despite the rising sunlight.
As Aslan followed the trail of cause and effect, he finally encountered it.
At the heart of the forest, a nest carved in a spiral pattern by a grotesquely twisted tree. And standing squarely in the center of that nest—a giant.
It had four arms.
Each arm stretched out at different angles, twisted yet still moving.
At the ends of these arms, which could be called hands, were twelve fingers each, accompanied by bluish boils.
The torso attached to these arms was even stranger, adorned with six breasts. Each breast oozed pus, soaking the ground beneath.
The legs, bent and broken, appeared shorter, but the head was grotesquely deformed even atop those twisted legs.
Four eyes. Two embedded in the forehead and two in the eye sockets, endlessly rolling, flipping, and shedding bloody tears.
Aslan instinctively sensed the mana and realized the deformed giant was the Wild Wizard.
A giant Wild Wizard—a rare existence.
Since giants rarely produced wizards, it made sense that giant Wild Wizards existed as well.
It was simply Aslan’s first time seeing one.
Having concluded his thoughts, Aslan addressed the deformed giant.
“I am Aslan. I’ve come at the request of the giants to meet you.”
The deformed giant only rolled its eyes, offering no response. Since there was no reply, Aslan spoke again.
“Can we have a conversation? I don’t wish to harm you.”
Once again, there was no response. Instead, the deformed giant took a step forward, exuding a faint aura of hostility.
Aslan looked down with a troubled expression before raising his sword toward the giant, who stood over 4 meters tall. The draw of the sword was silent.
“There seems to be no room for negotiation.”
Flowing along the blade, a white light emerged. This unmistakably divine power belonged to the ancient gods and was sorrowful in nature.
As the overwhelming energy that consumed even souls spilled forth, the deformed giant hesitated.
“Mommy?”
This time, Aslan flinched. Furrowing his brow, he was about to ask what the “mommy” comment meant.
But before he could inquire, Aslan’s heightened fortune granted him acute sixth sense, revealing a particular presence emanating from the deformed giant.
It was a familiar sensation, as if encountered somewhere before.
Aslan paused his words, staring intently at the giant before realizing the energy resembled the purity he currently held.
Energy akin to the purity created by the ancient gods.
It was divine power of the ancient gods.
Suspiciously alarmed, Aslan asked,
“Who are you?”
In response, the deformed giant rolled its four eyes before answering slowly, dripping with pus.
“God of Burial, God of Burial.”
The God of Burial.
One of the lesser divinities of the ancient gods, not the current ruling gods of Geladridion.
Unlike the main divinities, lesser divinities were weaker gods.
They had only one domain, and that domain wasn’t particularly powerful.
Weak in both power and domain, they were killed off one by one after the fall of the ancient gods.
Some were devoured and killed by priests or monsters, while others fell to human hands.
Amidst the complexity, Aslan could grasp the situation.
One of those lesser divinities, the God of Burial, had possessed the Wild Giant Wizard.
He had to ask. Aslan opened his mouth.
“How did you end up like this?”
How did the divine power end up in a giant’s body, how did it become a Wild Wizard, and why did it create specters?
In response to Aslan’s questions, the God of Burial, rolling its eyes, slowly recounted its tale.
Although the speech was halting and difficult to understand clearly, Aslan patiently deciphered and grasped the gist.
What he gathered wasn’t vastly different from what he already knew.
The God of Burial had been killed by giants.
Though it was an old story, the ancient god before him had indeed died.
And somehow, even in death, it could possess another body.
Now possessing this body, it sought only revenge.
Hatred seeped through its stammering words, vivid and intense, causing Aslan to sigh bitterly.
The harm caused by these transcendent beings known as gods was regrettable. Even though this ancient god’s death happened long ago, it was a fact, and this grudge couldn’t be dismissed as unwarranted.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”
The deformed giant slowly shook its head.
“Happy to see mommy, but no requests.”
Though Aslan couldn’t call himself the mother, the context was understandable.
Given that this ancient god had “understood” the soul, it likely comprehended the entity through the soul it contained.
Thus, the purity Aslan held, with the divine sorrow burning within, must have symbolized motherhood to this lesser divinity.
That explained why this lesser divinity regarded Aslan as its mother.
Aslan sighed and suggested,
“Then, how about withdrawing the specters and living together with the giants? The giants who killed you are already long dead. The giants today know nothing of that. On the contrary… they would welcome you. They’re simple creatures.”
Certainly, upon seeing the divinity this ancient god possessed, the giants would undoubtedly embrace it warmly, for giants were creations of the ancient gods.
However, the entity that was both a deformed giant, a Wild Wizard, and a lesser divinity stiffened at Aslan’s suggestion. It was astonishing that facial expressions could still exist on a face nearly obliterated.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Aslan asked despite knowing the answer, hoping for even a slight deviation.
The predictable answer came quickly.
“All must die. I will kill them all. Humans, giants, all must die.”
Aslan closed his eyes at this.
Regretfully sighing as he watched the lesser divinity transform into an Evil Deity through sheer helplessness, Aslan eventually opened his eyes.
“Your anger and hatred… they’re all justified. Completely reasonable emotions. But…”
Raising his sword high and pointing it, the approaching Evil Deity stumbled backward.
“What you aim to do is wrong. You are an Evil Deity.”
“Evil… Deity.”
The repeated phrase like a broken tape. The previously dormant eyes rolled once more. Aslan reached for the axe behind him and added,
“I’ve decided not to spare any Evil Deities and believe all must be eliminated.”
Snap
Twirling the axe slung on his back into his hand and twisting the single-edged sword in his right hand, the reflected images of specters appeared on the straight blade.
“So, I must kill you.”
A calm declaration. The lesser divinity, the God of Burial, was shocked by this.
By the declaration that the mother figure intended to kill it, and the firm intent to kill behind that declaration.
The God of Burial became sad.
But this sadness and shock didn’t last long. Gradually, these emotions transformed into hatred and resentment.
Hatred for the mother who didn’t rescue it until it reached this state, and resentment towards the world that had killed and disgraced it.
Its eyes rolled wildly. Blood tears streamed down. As crimson blood marks engraved themselves over the tear-streaked trails,
“Dieeeeee!”
The lesser divinity charged.
