Chapter 341
Chapter 341
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 341
Chapter Title: Can One Who Has Seen the End of the World Plant an Apple Tree? (46)
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For people, certain moments linger not just as simple memories, but as something more.
They might be the first kill. The death of a loved one. Or special, intense instants like a first kiss.
The playground from childhood. A cool night skyline. Or even a trivial moment, like throwing a tantrum to have the cucumber removed from kimbap.
If life is a journey, those moments are footprints. Between steps, unlike other memories that fade with time, they remain vivid like analog photos, untouched by the erosion of years.
The sensations of this moment now. The fragrance. The pain and warmth, all seared into memory like a brand.
The sharp edges of shattered machinery and the smell of iron. The stench of blood and rot piercing the nostrils.
Some of the cracked and scattered screens still projected the outside. Rescued holy knights freed from Palkatus's commands. The sturdy red dragon's flames and the blue dragon's lightning crashing down on Termakian's head. Nigmi entering the earthworm burrow with the surviving mutants. All visible.
Unlike the other sharply settling sensations. Sound was dull and hazy, as if submerged in water. Ears rang.
The system alert's light blinked faintly. When did it return? No. Not worth worrying about.
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"Is this.... really the end?"
"Yes. It's over."
"....You worked so ha....rd. Really."
"...."
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Thud.
He felt Rakshasha collapsing powerlessly into his arms. Her soft skin. Threads invisible to ordinary eyes. Threads connected to every joint, every tendon of Rakshasha.
Palkatus was dead. The one who eyed him suspiciously from expression to speech, gaze—gone.
It meant he no longer had to pretend the leisure of a victor.
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"I'm.... starting to feel a bit overwhelmed now?"
"I'll help you."
"You know that's not the help I want."
"It's fine. I'll help."
"You're so.... frustrating."
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How would this moment be remembered for him? Like a mirror reflection. Like when he became the digital world's prisoner in Zone 38 to stop Orpheus, saving his people by killing Palkatus, who thrashed to the very end.
....Would it be remembered as the victorious moment? After trials and tribulations, piercing near-impossible odds to claim a great win against a hated rival.
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"Gruk. Feels good. Green runt dead."
"....Being controlled by someone is far less pleasant than one might imagine."
"Oh dear.... Look here. Look here, Professor! Are you.... alright?"
"Yes."
"No, your face...."
"I'm fine."
"You're trying to fool someone who sees through you! If there's a problem, tell us so we can help!! What on earth happened that—"
"I'm fine. I said."
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Or as one memory of struggling to survive. For human Professor Park's life. An ordinary process of overcoming the trial called the game.
....Pffft!
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"....Rakshasha?!"
"Grrrrrrr!!! Desert woman!!! Let go! Now!"
"Rakshasha! What is this madness! Why the Professor....!"
"Leave us be."
"Let go now! That woman stabbed your heart!"
"I'm fine. Leave us be."
"No, what in the world...."
"Please. Just.... leave us be."
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Drip. Drip.
Or perhaps. Out of desperation, because it was the only card at hand.
Would it be remembered as the pathetic moment of demanding victory at the cost of the life of the woman who chased him, claiming to love him.
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"Rakshasha."
"Shh. Before you blame me, let's make this clear? It wasn't your plan, it was mine. Even without your cooperation, I would have done it. If you hadn't cooperated and failed to fool Palkatus, my plan would have failed, and my life along with everyone's would have ended in the most miserable way possible?"
"....Rakshasha."
"Deceiving and misleading to kill? That suits an assassin and information guild master more than a saint, doesn't it?"
"....Rakshasha."
"....A man who cries a lot is pretty cute too."
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The glass shard in Rakshasha's hand. The one that pierced Palkatus's heart now pierced his own.
Like pulling her body toward him, Rakshasha's threads trembled violently, straining to restrain her own form.
The taut threads dug into her skin, red lines etching across it.
....Bluffing. Pretending to hold a card you don't have, fooling the opponent.
Rakshasha was at the pinnacle of handling threads and spells, able to snag even Nigmi moving hazily fast underwater.
From Palkatus's 'command'. Holy Knight Johan moved as ordered yet screamed in pain and despair. Likely Palkatus's arrangement to hear anguished sensations in the final scene. And it meant those controlled could still move tongue and lips freely.
For top-tier assassin Rakshasha handling threads, that was enough. To yank her body with threads, moving convincingly enough that ordinary-eyed Palkatus wouldn't suspect.
[Embarrassingly, the desert woman holds two names, and mine is not permitted to you.]
Power to command characters, living intelligences, wouldn't falter over such a simple flaw. Even with different names, if Palkatus clearly targeted her.
Yet, by the time he realized that simple error, his heart was already pierced.
The shock of being fooled, rapidly fading life force. And his experience of repeated defeats at the end—enough to make him think he'd fallen to a hidden trump card I'd kept to the very last.
The ordinary-eyed fool couldn't see the ultra-fine threads, invisible even to Rakshasha's eyes, forcing her body.
The glass pierced Palkatus's heart, but what tore was the shallow self-suggestion covering his fear of the father who always defeated him at the end. What spilled with blood was the deep anxiety etched in his mind.
[Just that? That absurd reason, and all this comes to nothing?]
Thus, Palkatus fell for Rakshasha's plan.
His plans were always perfect, as ever.
What was imperfect was Palkatus himself.
....Rustle.
With the glass shard still embedded in his heart, he carefully scooped up Rakshasha and headed outside.
Clank. Clank. Clank. Clank.
Metal footsteps echoed in the ruined passage, blood pouring from his throbbing chest trailing like red threads behind his steps.
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"You know? People stabbed in the chest know they're dying, yet grasp the blade with hands too weak to lift an arrow. If that monster did the same, the curse controlling others—all that power would have dwelled in me."
"It's fine. Dragons can heal it. Beings from legends and myths can surely remove that command on you."
"It's said that in the death throes, a power equal to life's weight descends? Like a mage's last spell. Like radiant aura igniting the dying knight's blade.... Everyone's freed but me—doesn't that mean the monster I killed thrashed to the end because it desperately wanted to live?"
"....I heard dragons can turn people into dogs with a word. No way it's impossible."
"Then that would be ni....ugh!"
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Unable to finish, Rakshasha gritted her teeth against the pain of her body tearing itself apart.
The command on her. Mutual Slaughter. Kill each other.
The 'standby' on the holy knights, Ottoman, Notum, Yggdrasil lifted a moment before his death, as I observed. Just before my foot on Palkatus's head, I heard Ottoman lose balance and fall.
In the final instant, even with all possibilities gone, Palkatus didn't stop struggling; life's instinct wished the hand gripping the dagger in his heart—Rakshasha's—away from him.
No strength for new commands, so he'd dumped all recovered power atop the existing ones.
'In the last moment, Palkatus instinctively reclaimed all meaningless power, pouring it like a falling man thrashing onto the one piercing his heart.'
Rakshasha's body followed the command to kill the nearest me. The more her flesh obeyed, the deeper her restraining threads dug, tormenting her.
I knew better than anyone she'd have acted without my consent.
But recalling my face beside her—acting as if I saw through everything, lost nothing—felt worse than the glass in my heart.
"We're almost there. Hold on a bit longer. Please."
Spurt!
Signaling the end of the long day, shadows fell over the desert with the sun sinking beyond the horizon.
Dragons with twilight at their backs were close enough to reach in one weakened leap.
『....Saladin? And Rakshasha?』
『Saladin means....‘that human’. The third candidate, right?』
The dragons flew over the glass plain their breaths created. Professor leaped toward them, gently presenting Rakshasha in his arms.
No need for pathetic explanations before true dragons. They'd see through just by looking.
『Rakshasha! Saladin, this is, such....!』
"Aldarshaqs. You can heal her, right? The one who cherished your fragile, useless sibling pair like her own life, throwing herself at mutants to protect them."
『....』
Instead of the desired answer, the dragon squeezed shut its large, deep eyes.
....Still young, just become a dragon. So young and weak it struggled against one Termakian, unable to wield its power fully. An ancient dragon. One fully embodying its power, harmonizing the world—would be different.
It must be. It has to be.
Professor turned to the dragon half again larger than Aldarshaqs.
"....I have a request. Great Ancient, Sluggish Wise Dragon Atlahheba."
Crunch—
A grinding of teeth from his arms. Better if she'd released the threads and moved freely per the command. He'd take dozens of stabs if she'd stop slowly carving herself up. But she remained resolute.
Desperate eyes met the dragon's deep ones; instead of reply, a long sigh like flame emerged.
『....Why is it every human who slightly appeals to me starts with demands upon meeting? We have much to discuss, but you won't hear a word now.』
Dragon with deep red scales holding ages. Atlahheba descended, long maw approaching Rakshasha in his arms.
The dragon's breath, with long lashes, smelled of ash.
『....I can heal it. Me.』
"As expected! Please. She's the dragons' guardian, caring generationally since your hatchling days—"
『But impossible.』
Possible, yet impossible.
First answer: functional possibility.
Second: refusal.
Atlahheba refused to erase Palkatus's command on Rakshasha.
He swallowed ragged breath to argue the contradictory reply.
"....Felix Drixiel sacrificed eyes and legs for your tail. If a price is needed, I'll give everything. Whatever it takes. Even if, like your tail not regrowing, it's permanent loss from the pact—whatever—"
『Not a matter of price, human. Separate from my ability. Means you won't get what you want. Though a fragment, it's a command holding world-creator power. Untying takes long. Long time. Especially if hammered deep with squeezed-out power—very long.』
"Tha—"
『And such high-order commands don't just control actions—mind, thoughts, mindset follow too. Originally not for instant control, but literally 'character sheet'. Creator force deciding target's character, personality, mindset, job, abilities, past.』
『Her command: Mutual Slaughter. By the time I fully erase it.... she'll have become a killer slaughtering all related humans. So, I can erase the command, but can't return her to you.』
Sluggish Wise Dragon. As the name implies—lazy and wise—last Ancient escaped desert for amusement, preserving life.
Her words, one with the world, undeniable fact and death sentence.
『Left as is, it'll affect her soul too. In next world, world after—even further—soul composing Rakshasha born as killer making killing kin life's goal. So, to truly save her.... 'stop' her while mind intact. Only way. Separate soul and flesh before command devours all. That halts progress; I promise to hold and restore that soul. Then, slaughter command won't carry over.』
What Rakshasha held wasn't just her body. Letting go now, yielding to command, meant releasing what held her vanishing self—like a puppet with cut strings.
Boom—
Aldarshaqs landed beside Atlahheba, nose tip touching Rakshasha.
『Ancient One. Truly no way? This human, Rakshasha.... is parent to me and my sister. Even you can't save her....?』
『Child. Our role here is to step away. That's all.』
『Even with dragon power.... nothing I can do.』
『....Glad you, young one, realize quickly. Even with godlike power, we're but world-bound. Change or create, pay the price—unchanging. That's harmony. That's the world.』
Hooo—
Atlahheba's breath settled on Rakshasha, faint color returning to her pained face. Brief reprieve. All she could offer.
『Professor. Third candidate. Finish your task, ready to talk—return then.』
『....Saladin. Rakshasha.... please take care.』
Flap—!
Red dragon wings spread. Blue dragon body followed skyward.
『Kwaaaaaaaa—』
Distant cry.
Grief-stricken wail slicing heavens, brushing moon past setting sun.
Trailing edge of dragons' sorrow cloaked them in night's dark.
"Mmm.... Sun set?"
"Yeah. Just now."
"Finally, this long day.... ends...."
In desert night's chill descending with dark, Professor held her deeper. Glass shard stabbed deeper into heart. Command Mutual Slaughter progressing, her fading awareness would slow—hopeful act.
"....You'll do it?"
Instead of reply, Professor voiced hope.
"Dragons said it. They're mere creations too. Beyond Lo Haram, World Tree—vast world holds countless ways, surely, surely...."
"....How did such a pure soul become so cold, strong, unyielding. How."
Unconvincing words crumbled under her hand stroking his cheek, falling with tears.
He knew. Even now, Rakshasha endured pain to hold herself. Atlahheba's aid mere breather. No time to flail for hopeless possibilities, nor even move further.
Knew, but couldn't accept.
Too terrified of what lay ahead, what must be done—couldn't voice it.
"....Wow. Here. This spot.... Help me up?"
"...."
"Now."
Dying, she gazed childlike sparkle at something discovered.
"Well.... Remember? The prophecy I gave you."
"Yeah. I remember."
Truthfully, he didn't. Sorrow and fear flowed river-like within.
"Straight east. Between Cyan and Doppelron stars, walk to third well encountered, leave my mark. Then, man wandering desert chasing stars finds true love, woman counting him like wind-scattered sands meets. Desert woman Anaya finds mate after long wait."
To her song-like murmur, Professor wiped tears unseen, turning head where she looked.
"Between Cyan and Doppelron—straight east. First well: little oasis we remet. Second: Kauladi oasis. And here. Third before us."
Yes. A well. Moon's sea fallen powerless. Hole full of that water. Sunk moon's risen hole—like well holding all sea.
"For Moonshadow leader's mark, what better than true moon."
And atop third well lay the fallen moon, power spent. Toward desert, leave mark at third well encountered. There, Anaya meets her true love.
"....Until you truly win my heart, call me Rakshasha?"
"How reclaim heart once given. My love wandering stars, countless lives hung heaven like stars."
"...."
"Death isn't end—you know? Body to sand, soul to heaven's star gazing you and world. Fear not."
Grinding teeth to hide grief trembled. Unsuppressible groan escaped; her arms embraced his neck deeper.
With sorrow, words held fear.
Feared by all as saint, yet calling self unbeliever to end.
"....Dead don't become stars."
"Is that so."
"That sky's cold frost and dust world. Stars not jewels holding souls—dried rocks."
"Oh my. Church of Light needs new doctrine."
"No next for dead. If you die here.... I'll lose you forever. This, this talk.... our last."
Her data soul, dragons would restore—live as other figure in other world.
But Rakshasha who'd journeyed with him till now vanishes here forever. Forever. Like all his lost ones thus far.
Enduring doesn't mean numb.
Perhaps, in accumulating loss, one day collapse under weight.
Someone sharing his time vanishing—unfamiliar pain, endlessly repeating in this era.
"....If life defined so coldly, wouldn't be this hard. You and I, our world too."
Her soft voice brushed fear-filled eyes, piercing him. Voice from embraced form resonated not ears but chest, body quaking.
"You, gazing beautiful Milky Way—what feel?"
"...."
"Cold void? Or starry cluster intoxicating, mysterious thrill? Your sky cold makes you cold gazing?"
"Rakshasha. I...."
"Shh. Man I chose strongest, unyielding before any. If you feel so, it is. Follow your truth."
Her clear eyes met his. What read she in him? Unknowing meaning, why comforted by words.
Crack. Crack—
Threads pulling taut again. Reprieve ended, Palkatus's brand gnawing her will.
Even as threads dug flesh, she gazed only him, pain unshown.
"Believe you'll let me remain me?"
Night's shadow on cold sand ground. Dust-filled wasteland.
Like that day. Woman loving him dying before him. Awaiting him to end it for her.
"....I'll miss you."
"Miss as I waited, then forget."
Forget. Scald brain with bleach—could he forget this?
Professor felt he'd carry this moment in heart long. Perhaps, forever.
Scarred arms wrapped her shoulders. Rakshasha buried face in his, tears finally falling.
"I love you. My Saladin."
"....Anaya."
Like heart's distance, they embraced deepest possible.
Deeply.
Deeper.
With falling tears.
Crunch.
Lest her purity soil. Deep in chest.
As trembling birdlet shattered, crumbling in arms.
Saladin hoped his tears sufficed to see her off.
Flawless desert night spread over lone man's head.
Over melted glass plain, Milky Way descended—like lover from final moments cradled in stars' embrace.
Man, sending lover off, held her long there.
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