Chapter 309
Chapter: 309
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>Translator: penny
>Chapter: 309
>Chapter Title: Demon King No. 2 (7)
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>Sigurd had wandered through countless dimensions, experiencing all manner of bizarre miracles.
He had seen a prophet craft sturdy ideoplasts as effortlessly as breathing.
He had even witnessed firsthand a high-ranking demon king exhale a faint sigh that transformed into a powerful ideoplast, eventually blossoming into a complete dimension.
“Yet in all the worlds, I have never seen anyone who could create the very laws that form dimensions.”
The laws of the Lexicon Realm were truly astonishing.
Let there be light.
Once that code was inscribed, light of consistent intensity would shine upon the world forever.
Let there be life here.
Manipulate the code thusly, and bizarre lifeforms would spring to life, skipping over eons of birth and evolution.
The codes even transcended physical limits.
They expanded to whatever coordinates were set, accelerating time as commanded. Infinite worlds stretching endlessly, so long as their creator willed it.
“And do you know what was most inexplicable of all? That the oracle who crafted those beautiful codes was merely a single human.”
Not a god, nor some high-ranking demon king from elsewhere.
The oracle of Kornsiim.
The spiritual leader of a minor tribe, whom he had dismissed as just another ordinary prophet.
“To Sigurd Sigurdson—who believed himself the most exceptional among humans—the oracle was nothing less than a gauntlet thrown down in blatant challenge.”
A code specifying fire produced fire, one specifying water produced water. Identical codes always yielded identical ideoplasts.
As Sigurd observed these rigid rules, he couldn’t help recalling the people who had been enthralled by his tales.
‘Sing a comedy, and they felt excitement and joy. Sing a tragedy, and they wallowed in sorrow and despair... Everyone envisioned exactly the ideoplasts I desired.’
And so Sigurd had thought:
‘Perhaps I can do it too?’
Listeners hearing the same story always evoked similar ideoplasts.
Then, could he not make his very stories function like codes?
‘Could I not gather stories upon stories, forging them into the grand laws that comprise the world itself?’
That sliver of possibility captivated the storyteller’s heart in an instant—an irresistible allure for one grown bored with endless frivolity.
‘Yes! I don’t want to chase fleeting dreams as a mere entertainer. I want to become a great tale remembered for eternity! The one story, the one law that pierces the world!’
And so the tale-spinner, who had wandered a thousand dreams, began passionately scouring the material worlds for the stuff of stories.
Sungjin clicked his tongue upon hearing that much. The more he listened, the more absurd it seemed.
What was the point of all that?
“That’s Sigurd Sigurdson’s ultimate goal? You’re joking.”
“…Is it not grand and beautiful?”
At Isabella’s question, Sungjin scowled and snorted.
“No. No matter how I think about it, it just seems like wasting time on pointless nonsense. He could’ve at least slept instead—time wouldn’t have been wasted then.”
Isabella gave a wry smile as she gazed at Sungjin.
“That much hasn’t changed. Even before losing your memories, you seemed utterly unable to sympathize with this tale.”
“…….”
“But have you never considered this? That your heart remains unmoved precisely because you are the next oracle. Because you are promised to surpass all limits, you can remain indifferent to all this.”
Who knows.
Sungjin pulled a sullen face and glanced out the window. In the time it took to hear the story, quite a bit had passed; the carriage was already approaching the townhouse.
“Sigurd Sigurdson has lived through immense spans of time. He amassed more knowledge than any prophet and could craft ideoplasts of artistry surpassing any demon king. Yet to the kings of other dimensions, his limits were ever clear.”
Merely an exceptional human.
No matter how he proclaimed himself the ‘Demon King of Dreams,’ no one took his words seriously.
“Thus he spent his life rejecting his humanity. But upon learning of an even more exceptional human—the oracle—did he not first need to surpass him to truly advance to the next stage?”
At that moment, Sungjin keenly detected the faint note of self-mockery in her voice, like a ghost sensing it.
“You think his dream is a bit foolish too, don’t you? Am I wrong?”
“……!”
Isabella fell silent, her eyes widening as she stared at Sungjin.
“Sigurd Sigurdson is an irredeemable fool. He committed far too many wrongs chasing an impossible goal. But at least you, who’s stopped now, are in a far better position than him.”
“…….”
“So forget that pathetic dream already! How long are you going to let a lunatic’s ravings poison your mind? He’s never coming back.”
“…I don’t find it so foolish. I was once strongly captivated by that ideal myself.”
Her voice trembling, Isabella followed Sungjin’s gaze out the window, staring wistfully at the passing scenery.
“Besides, the most intense passions often stem from simple motives. I can’t entirely dismiss how Sigurd Sigurdson, weary from endless ages of tedium, became obsessed with that dream.”
“…….”
“But now that things have turned out this way, it all feels futile. As you said, the storyteller won’t return to me.”
And with that, the two ceased speaking and sank into silence.
For neither Sungjin nor Isabella was Sigurd Sigurdson a pleasant topic.
Clatter.
Soon, the carriage halted before the townhouse. Sungjin alighted first and silently extended a hand to Isabella, who was rising belatedly.
A perfectly ordinary bit of etiquette. Yet to Isabella, it carried a slightly different weight.
Never expecting to be treated as a true lady, Isabella hesitated with a surprised look before taking Sungjin’s hand.
“One last question.”
After gently setting her down, Sungjin spoke.
“The gray plague that spread through the capital before—was that Sigurd Sigurdson’s doing?”
Isabella regarded him with an odd glint in her eyes for a moment.
“You pretend to have no questions, yet you never miss the most important ones.”
“…….”
“Well, fine.”
Letting out a small sigh, Isabella paused to choose her words carefully.
“I can’t tell you everything I know about the gray plague. It’s still too closely tied to Sigurd Sigurdson’s future plans. However…”
Her vivid turquoise eyes, reminiscent of summer greenery, met Sungjin’s squarely.
“At the very least, directly implanting monster eggs into people was not his doing.”
At that, the demon king who had been listening silently jumped in with an answer before Sungjin could even ask.
[That’s the truth.]
‘…Got it.’
Sungjin instinctively realized that Isabella’s response had just barely skirted the line set by the puppeteer.
At least the part about her cooperating with him was genuine.
“Lady Isabella.”
Sungjin lifted her hand slightly toward his face before releasing it.
“I look forward to your continued assistance with Amelia’s matters.”
As he offered the polite farewell with a sly quirk of one lip, Isabella’s face suddenly drained of color!
“Hic, hick! Hick!”
“……?”
Sungjin tilted his head at Isabella, who began trembling visibly.
What? He’d said he’d let her live for now. Why was she flinching like this even when he was being nice?
[You seriously can’t look in a mirror before smiling at people?]
What are you talking about? I didn’t outright threaten her, did I? That should be fine.
[...Wasn’t that just you saying she’d die if she didn’t obey your sister like a slave?]
Shut up, you ungrateful demon king—not even worth the bear meat you mooched!
Whose side are you on, anyway? Huh?
* * *
That night.
Owen, who had stayed late discussing the poison needle incident with the Volanta tribe, logged into Pangea Chronicle a bit later than usual.
Arriving at the rendezvous point, his usual friends and the recently joined mole engineer greeted him warmly.
[Owen, you’re late today.]
[Come on in! We’ve been waiting!]
[Good to see you, friend!]
[Y-Yeah, you guys waited!]
Owen waved cheerfully and took his seat.
[Where’s the newbie?]
Gurup promptly lifted his hair to point at the far corner of the tavern.
Owen turned to see a small mountain goat sitting alone by the window, staring blankly outside.
[Iseongjin said he had something on his mind earlier!]
[He told us to call him once everyone’s here, but he seems so focused it’s hard to disturb him.]
[…I see.]
As they said, the air around the baby goat was solemn, almost heavy.
‘For a newbie, he sure puts on weighty airs sometimes…’
Creak.
Owen rose and slowly approached the goat, a touch of concern in his heart.
‘Hey, newbie. Got some worries? If so, don’t bottle it up—spill it to everyone and feel better.’
Meanwhile, contrary to their concern, Sungjin was simply letting his thoughts drift along the stream of consciousness. Immersed in a strange premonition that something was about to happen.
‘Isabella said it: identical codes always produce identical ideoplasts…’
In her words, the forms of the Lexicon Realm were perfectly standardized ideoplasts.
At their core, they were sturdy ideoplasts.
‘Come to think of it, Father mentioned something like that recently.’
Probably the night Sungjin had visited at dawn.
The Holy Emperor had told him of a wizard once famous in Bertrand District long ago. Before vanishing amid heresy accusations, he had been a capital sensation.
-He would unleash spectacular magic spewing multicolored flames from his hands. Quite the spectacle.
“But there’s no such thing as magic in this world, right?”
Sungjin had found it odd at the time. At least in the Delcross material dimension, he’d never seen anything qualifying as ‘magic.’
Even the palace treasury’s so-called magical items were all Lexicon Realm products from Ionia.
Sure enough, the Holy Emperor nodded.
-Indeed. The man was a skilled aura user. He merely combined drug-mixed flames with atmospheric effects to deceive the crowds.
-What? That’s just a scam.
As Sungjin scoffed, the Holy Emperor smiled faintly and added,
-Never forget this, Mores. Every world has a fundamental power like aura. If you witness some inexplicable phenomenon that seems superhuman, always ponder what lies at its root.
Right.
Sungjin stared blankly into space, lost in thought.
‘This world has magic like in games, special skills like aura. But at root, it’s all ideoplasts. Nothing more.’
Like Father’s salmon he’d seen in the Rift before.
Like my Demon King No. 2 that incinerated black Justitia.
Whoosh.
At some point, vivid flames erupted before Sungjin’s eyes. Small and unassuming like the demon king, yet an indelible crimson blaze that would never extinguish once lit.
It was Demon King No. 2.
[Gasp? Newbie!]
Owen, approaching, recoiled in shock and rushed over—
[Magic? It’s magic?]
[Iseongjin! Is someone attacking? But this is a green zone?]
The other Silence Villains startled and turned to Sungjin.
“Hahaha…”
At how effortlessly it had happened, Sungjin let out a hollow laugh.
‘Right. If the Lexicon Realm is structured so that oracle-defined ideoplasts easily materialize…’
Then there was no reason my fully standardized Demon King No. 2 couldn’t manifest easily from my consciousness!