Chapter 99
Chapter 99
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 98
Chapter Title: The Snake's Slough
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People tend to see only as much as they know.
Therefore, the limits of human potential that most people can specifically imagine are merely a slight extension beyond their own capabilities.
A 0th Hierarchy citizen imagines themselves as a 1st Hierarchy being swinging a greatsword like a tree branch,
and a low-rank 1st Hierarchy knight can imagine themselves as a 2nd Hierarchy being wielding a person like a weapon.
And when they reach the realm they had imagined for themselves, they are invariably astonished by what they can do.
Saint King Vesper II realized this upon reaching the 2nd Hierarchy.
The world is vast, and his imagination was meager.
Ascending one Hierarchy means living in a different world.
Simply growing stronger or faster is merely a side effect.
Upon reaching the 7th Hierarchy, where he could contend with dragons,
and the 8th, where he gained the power to cleave the seas,
Vesper II was convinced he had become capable of founding a new religion in the Empire.
And on the day he emerged into the world to announce the beginning of his new religion,
he learned just how insignificant he was in the Empire.
- “Religion? Haha! A mere 8th Hierarchy founding a religion?!”
Those were the words of a noble who toyed with Vesper II, then sandwiched him between two mountain ranges like a sandwich.
- “Heh. Not a bad specimen.”
- “Gah! Who are you?!”
- “Shh. Don't move. Damage would affect future experiments. Don't worry. You'll contribute to humanity's prosperity.”
And then a mad scientist dragged that noble away with ridiculous ease.
The scientist appeared out of thin air, paralyzing the resisting noble with venom and hauling him off.
Years later, he learned that scientist was Antares, the [Eternal Scorpion] among the 13 Reverse Heavenly Stars,
and that even Antares ranked low in combat prowess among them.
- “Hm? Why fear me? I won't use you as an experiment subject. Ants are too tricky for that.”
And when he realized he was merely an ant in this vast universe,
Vesper II came to fear the power of the Twelve Tyrants.
As long as they existed, the ideal religion he desired could never be completed in this world.
But in this moment, the Saint King realized something.
He had not feared the Twelve Tyrants.
“Haha...”
He had yearned for power.
The power of those who wielded the world's laws as they pleased, the true masters of this realm.
And now, in this very moment,
the Saint King had obtained a rare opportunity to confront that power with his own body.
“Every time I see it, it just makes me laugh in disbelief.”
He muttered as a house-sized wave approached him and Vesper II's mother.
“What an overly rough welcome.”
The Saint King knew.
This wave was merely Opfir's greeting.
Without exaggeration or bluff, enduring this wave was what made the greeting official.
The Saint King gritted his teeth and thrust his shield forward.
“Fine.”
Even if he couldn't win, he would burn his soul until the sun and moon deemed him a worthy opponent.
Clang!
With the shield facing the wave, the Saint King struck its back.
The round shield dispersed the impact like a prism scattering light, emitting a wide-ranging shockwave from its front.
Boom!
The powerful shockwave that could cleave a river collided with the wave.
The concentrated shockwave punched a hole through part of the wave.
The Saint King and the scribe slipped out through that hole.
Having evaded Opfir's greeting, the Saint King prioritized his mother's condition.
“Mother, are you alrig—”
“Kid!”
Immediately after, Opfir—who should have been in the sky—grabbed the Saint King's head and slammed him into the riverbed.
“Glub glub (Sneaky!)”
“Any leader of a religion should at least know how to speak underwater, whelp.”
The two sank deeper into the water.
It felt just like a water ghost grabbing one's ankle and dragging them down.
The Saint King quickly ran through his options.
Cleave the river?
That would secure air and footing.
No.
A foolish choice.
Showing such an opening against Opfir would mean his head bidding eternal farewell to his body.
Fight underwater as is.
The Saint King gathered holy light between his hands.
A small sun appeared in the darkening depths.
Opfir targeted the Saint King's heart, refusing to give him any chance.
Opfir's hand blade pierced the Saint King's chest without resistance.
However, Opfir frowned upon claiming the heart.
“Quite the amusing trick.”
The Saint King with the pierced chest scattered like an illusion.
Opfir looked up to see the scribe above the surface, hands clasped in prayer.
Then, the real Saint King appeared behind Opfir.
He gripped the gathered light like a spear, poised to hurl it at Opfir.
And before Opfir could defend, the spear left the Saint King's hand and embedded in Opfir's chest.
Meanwhile, on land.
Ari pounded furiously on the golden translucent wall of the dome the scribe had erected.
“How is it this tough?!”
“Your Highness. Please calm down. That woman's blessing comes from the lowest angel rank, but its Hierarchy is 7th. Physically breaking it is impossible.”
“Then what are we supposed to do? Stay trapped forever?”
“Rosa and I are analyzing the barrier. We should dispel it in a few hours.”
“Wanna bet? I'll break this wall faster.”
“...”
Grace looked at Ari with complicated feelings.
She had seemed like the model maid during their occasional palace meetings, but up close, she was hot-tempered.
Grace gave up persuading Ari and focused on analyzing the barrier.
Then, Rosalyn called out to Grace.
“Sis.”
“What's up, Rosa?”
“It's been too quiet since the battle started. Isn't it already over?”
“No way. They're probably still fighting hard in the river.”
“But it's been silent since that one tsunami.”
“That's how high-Hierarchy battles are. The higher the Hierarchies, the quieter reality becomes.”
“Why?”
“Because vitality gets too tenacious.”
The Saintess pointed to her own heart.
“Vital spots like the heart lose meaning from 6th Hierarchy onward.”
At 7th Hierarchy, one could keep fighting even with half their neck dangling.
From 8th, even the Saintess wasn't sure, but supposedly limbs regenerated fast enough not to affect combat.
“Powerful, massive attacks are mostly for overwhelming or toying with weaker foes. Against equals, they pierce defenses for instant kills or leave unhealable scratches, even if small.”
The Saintess gave examples.
Dragging into a painting world to etch an indelible soul wound,
casting curses that kill instantly under certain conditions,
or accumulating damage faster than regeneration.
Something like that.
“Right now in the river, Saint King and Lord Opfir are locked in a fierce clo—”
Splash!
Before the Saintess could finish, the river water erupted.
The group's eyes naturally followed the figure rising from the river.
“His Majesty the Saint King?!”
Rosalyn cried out involuntarily.
The bloodied Saint King rising from the river staggered upon landing on shore.
His shield was shattered beyond recognition, and his left arm couldn't regenerate, embedded with shield fragments.
Incredibly, Opfir emerged from the river next, completely dry despite just coming out.
Opfir approached the Saint King, ignoring the numerous spears lodged in his back and torso.
The Saint King reformed his shield and assumed a spear-throwing stance.
But when Opfir appeared before him, he thrust instead of throwing.
However, Opfir's response was utterly unexpected.
Opfir ducked, and the spear in his back bent, wrapping around the Saint King's arm.
It was a familiar technique, but somehow different.
“Mountain Lord's Pride technique...! But you're no beastkin!?”
“They say all rivers lead to the sea. From the heavens, all martial arts converge to one.”
Opfir used the spear in place of a tail to bind the Saint King's arm, then drove a palm strike into his solar plexus.
Thud thud thud!
Sounds like bursting balloons echoed deep in the Saint King's solar plexus.
“Gah!”
“Refusing attack magic to the end. Wary of backlash? Wise choice.”
The Saint King's body crumbled.
“Mo...ther...”
Vesper II knelt, tears streaming, and closed his eyes.
In a pious prayer pose, the Saint King soon ceased moving.
Opfir looked down at the corpse and took a deep breath.
It seemed like catching his breath from the unrelenting underwater fight, or composing his emotions.
Then, blue light shone from behind Opfir.
Turning, he saw the robed scribe, now shed of her robe, oozing black liquid from her stitched scars.
Her lower body was a writhing mass of tentacles, and half a shield fragment was embedded in her waist.
A faint blue flame gathered on her right arm.
“It's... not... over... yet.”
“Think I'd falter for the tricks of a dying corpse?”
The scribe flinched.
“You knew?”
“Your time ends soon too. No need to finish you off.”
“To the end, you make us so wretched.”
“That's how the world works.”
Opfir nonchalantly snapped off the spears in his body and regenerated his armor.
“Rejoice. You've satisfied me. I'll postpone this kingdom's destruction.”
At those words, the scribe's scar-covered face formed a feeble smile.
“...Thank you for the undeserved mercy.”
“Go to your child. I won't stop you.”
The scribe weakly bowed to Opfir and approached the Saint King, who slumbered in prayer.
She clasped his hand, pressed her forehead to his, and closed her eyes.
“I love you.”
With those final words, she too stilled.
Looking at the now-motionless pair, Opfir recalled the original story.
The Saint King hadn't died to Grace's suicide attack.
But when the scribe got caught in it and perished, he went mad, transforming into a massive tentacle monster.
With his revenge target already dead by suicide, he had no one to vent on, no chance for redemption, and rampaged destructively in insanity.
Rex's great army raided and defeated that Saint King.
The terror of 8th Hierarchy lay in finesse and experience, not size, so the bloated monster failed to live up to it.
Thus, the Saint King lost his heart to Ari and his head to Peter.
That monstrous transformation left him dishonorably recorded in history as the cult leader of the “Demon King Worshippers,” and Saint King Kingdom was absorbed into Providence Kingdom.
But in this world, the Saint King and scribe's end was different.
Is this right...?
Opfir pondered.
For villains' demise, it was too dignified.
Of course, the Saint King's self-destruction from overreach was ugly enough, but compared to the original, it was honorable.
Leave them like this, and they'd be remembered as kings who fulfilled their duties to the end.
After agonizing, Opfir shook his head.
I don't know about tough stuff like this.
He knew nothing of philosophy.
He'd memorized contents for Final Boss refinement, but they were mere knowledge, not beliefs.
He was always the Final Boss.
And Opfir was an arrogant, autocratic, somewhat corrupt peace activist.
What such an Opfir would say to the Saint King was this.
“It was fun, Saint King. And congratulations. You've brought peace to this country.”
Under Providence Kingdom's reign, Saint King Kingdom would now enjoy peace.
Finishing his final RP, Opfir looked toward the expedition.
The scribe's golden dome was fading.
As it vanished, the blood pooled toward his head drained below his neck, cooling his mind.
Come to think of it, how do I clean this up?
This was the problem with Opfir acting.
Fun in the moment, but no thought for aftermath.
Especially hard to rein in emotions post-high.
I'm Duke now... I'm Duke...
Before the dome fully lifted, Opfir regained his composure.
The little Opfir in his mind rebelled, but
Duke shoved Opfir back into a corner of his mind.
“Ahem. Hm.”
As the golden barrier fully dissipated, his comrades emerged.
Ari cautiously entered combat stance, wary of Opfir(?).
“Are you Opfir or Sir Duke?”
“Whether I'm Opfir or Duke, I don't recommend that attitude. Opfir doesn't leave battle-ready warriors alone. You okay with that?”
Ari flinched, her tail drooping limply, betraying her feelings.
Opfir(Duke) chuckled and relaxed his shoulders.
Then, suddenly beside Ari,
“Courage is admirable, but that's called recklessness. No audience, so no need to act.”
“Whew.”
“By the way.”
Duke switched back to Opfir tone mid-sentence.
Ari's body stiffened.
“Let's address this. Defying Her Majesty's orders was rash.”
“You knew?”
“Why do you think I let the Shadow Knight hide in my shadow?”
In Opfir state, his link to Rex severed.
So Opfir had kept one Shadow Knight in his shadow for comms.
“Must've been tough guarding. You can come out now.”
Now fully Duke, he tapped his shadow.
A knight drenched in cold sweat crawled out.
“Huff... huff...”
“Good work.”
“Thank you for protecting me.”
“No trouble.”
“And it was an honor to witness your prowess firsthand.”
“Hope it was a valuable experience.”
At Duke's encouragement, the Shadow Knight nodded weakly.
Then, Yu Hana's voice echoed in the knight's mind.
“Pardon? Must've misheard.”
“Director? Director!?”
Experiencing workplace harassment for the first time, the section chief desperately shouted into the air,
but the director ignored him lightly.
The darkness of Providence Intelligence Director Yu Hana ran this deep.