Chapter 69

Let’s think about this for a moment.

Erebus created an explosion of magical power by splitting in half the scale under their jaw—the scale I had lent them—and used the resulting gap to escape.

My divine body is so sturdy that it doesn’t falter even under tremendous impact, yet Erebus managed to unleash an explosion strong enough to make me feel pain.

If the explosion was painful enough for me… what must it have been like for Erebus, who detonated it beneath their own jaw?

What about Erebus, who triggered such a self-destructive blast against the toughest existence in the world?

Even if the details are unclear, they surely didn’t emerge unscathed.

But still…

“Even so, to end up in this state… tch, tch.”

I clicked my tongue as I gazed at the small fragment of darkness dangling from the tip of a fishing needle made of shadows.

This fragment of darkness could neither speak nor think, merely twitching faintly—its only sign of life.

Did they really have to run so far just to end up like this? I couldn’t help but feel regretful.

“Destroy what you can’t possess!!” That seemed to be the sentiment behind Erebus blowing themselves apart and fleeing, yet now they’re reduced to this pitiful state! Too pathetic!

With a sigh, I watched the fragment writhing helplessly on the shadowy fishing hook, unable to even free itself.

Still, I couldn’t leave it like this.

I began channeling a trickle of magical energy into the tiny fragment of Erebus. Gradually, it started to absorb the magic and grow slightly larger.

For now, the immediate danger seems to have passed… Hmm.

Should I try reading the memories contained within this fragment? I’m curious about what happened to Erebus to reduce them to this state.

Though it’s uncertain whether any memories remain in such a small fragment, there’s no harm in checking.

—

After briefly scanning the memories…

There wasn’t much useful information left.

The fragment’s memory began with the powerful self-destruction caused by splitting my scale, combined with the backlash from an emergency teleportation spell that caused Erebus to lose control over their own form, scattering into pieces.

As a result, Erebus’s essence of eternal darkness fragmented into several parts, each wildly roaming and attempting to consume one another.

Most fragments fled while others engaged in fierce battles, trying to devour their counterparts.

Eventually, only two large fragments remained, along with a single, lonely smaller fragment that clutched onto the split silver scale.

Strangely, none of the other fragments dared touch this particular piece.

It seemed instinctively they knew—if they consumed this fragment, they would inherit the name and identity of Erebus itself. And with that, they’d also become a target for my pursuit.

Thus, the other fragments abandoned this small fragment of darkness, leaving it alone deep within the earth where it quietly lingered for a very long time.

Until my shadowy fishing needle finally tracked down and captured it.

—

What should I do with this little thing?

Punishing it in its current state might risk erasing it entirely.

Even though they’ve done wrong, I don’t want to destroy them completely.

I originally planned to assign Erebus some work in the underworld until the end of the world came—but now, given this state, that won’t be possible.

In its present condition, it can’t accomplish anything. Hmm…

I looked down at the tiny fragment of Erebus wriggling on my palm.

Even in this diminished state, after all the trouble they’ve caused, I can’t let them simply vanish.

Destroying them outright feels like letting them escape responsibility. No, not quite right. Somewhere around that idea.

I’ll wait until I gather all the other fragments before deciding on punishment. That makes sense.

But how am I supposed to collect all these scattered fragments? They’ve spread far and wide…

If only they had split into just a few large chunks instead of countless fragments…

For now, I’ll focus on preserving this small fragment. It might disperse if left unchecked. Sealing it inside something like a gemstone would be best.

Placing the fragment on my hand, I began crafting a gemstone around it.

The strongest gemstone: diamond. Its shape—a classic round brilliant cut when viewed from above.

Carefully enclosing the fragment inside, I infused it with magic to ensure nothing could break it. Thus, an indestructible diamond was completed.

Next, I adjusted its functions: allowing the fragment to absorb external magic or dark energies to restore its strength; enabling it to grow by consuming other fragments; preparing an emergency mechanism to release its power externally when needed, though only accessible from outside.

Finally, I added a tracking function to prevent losing its location.

When finished, the diamond had turned pitch black, either due to the influence of the contained fragment or the corruption by magical energy.

Is this what they call a “Black Diamond”? Kinda cool.

Holding the diamond between my thumb and forefinger, I examined it under the sunlight.

The seal seemed secure, with the fragment resting quietly inside.

Gently pushing magic into the gem, I observed it being absorbed by the fragment without escaping.

Good. The flow of power into the gem works perfectly, while preventing leakage outward.

This gem has become a prison-like structure, ensuring the fragment cannot escape unless I choose to release it.

With this, Erebus’s fragment should be safe from annihilation.

Someday, when all the fragments reunite and Erebus regains consciousness, they will face proper punishment—a punishment so severe they’ll beg never to repeat their mistake.

—

However, strange events began occurring across the world after that day.

Creatures, aside from slimes crawling on the ground, which were previously similar to Earth’s animals, started changing in bizarre ways.

They grew stronger, fiercer, more savage.

Some became larger, developed new organs, or began wielding magic—like wild boars spewing flames or wolves with electrified fangs.

Even timid rabbits sprouted sharp horns and learned to ram trees, creating holes.

Not all animals became aggressive, though. Horned horses, for instance, gained the ability to leap through the air or create fog to hide themselves while maintaining their herbivorous lifestyle.

Among these transformations, the most concerning were the dinosaurs that failed to evolve into dragons.

Wyverns, drakes, sea serpents—these “lesser dragons”—who quietly lived with their advanced but non-draconic bodies, began turning hostile and using magic.

Wyverns breathed fire, drakes caused earthquakes, and sea serpents generated whirlpools, becoming truly menacing creatures.

Hmm… Should I deal with these somehow? If even a single wyvern attacks a human city, it could lead to complete destruction.

At the very least, precautions must be taken. I’ll inform the children of the Temple of Life to erect protective barriers around human villages.

While we’re at it, we should block entry to the transformed beasts as well.

—

By the way, these changes weren’t limited to animals.

Among humans, individuals began appearing who instinctively manipulated magic.

People who shot fiery blasts from their hands, fired arrows of light, or levitated objects with telekinesis.

Fearing and rejecting these new abilities, others ostracized them. Some chose to conceal their powers, while others grouped together to explore and master their gifts.

This marked the emergence of monsters and mages in this world.