Chapter 205
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 205
Chapter Title: Even 13 Regressions is Total Bullshit
-----------------------------------------------------------------
A divine beast brought twelve eggs.
Beasts akin to gods hatched from the eggs.
The god named them Guardian Divine Beasts.
The Guardian Divine Beasts matured in just one hundred days after birth and roamed the world, spreading the god's love.
They dug wells, helped with farming, brought rain, mediated quarrels, and stopped fights.
They taught benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom to the unvirtuous folk, guiding them onto the righteous path.
Filial piety and respect, justice and universal love.
Their rule, founded on the ideal that all should love one another, brought warmth to the harsh lives of the beastmen tribes.
Thus, twenty years passed.
"We shall create the Heavenly Realm together with you, Heavenly God."
Ten Guardian Divine Beasts ascended to the heavens.
With the world at peace, they declared they would build the Heavenly Realm.
The Heavenly Realm was to be a place for virtuous beasts who had attained enlightenment.
Before departing, they entrusted their eggs and offspring to the various tribes.
"Please raise them well, Wolf-Head."
"If you leave, I'll eat them all."
"You're the great hero Kitarn, yet you jest like this."
"No, why are you dumping seven on me! Am I your nanny?"
"Don't exaggerate!"
The Guardian Divine Beast 'Ginran' tapped the wolf's thick arm.
"I grew up well under your care too. Sure, I suffered trailing after you on your journeys, but you're the most reliable foster father I know."
The dark-furred wolf grimaced as he cradled a bundle of eggs.
At his side, two young cubs clung to his shins, gazing up at him with bright, sparkling eyes.
"Please look after my children, Kitarn."
"Get lost. Live well up there."
Ginran vanished with a soft chuckle.
Kitarn, the renowned wolf tribe chieftain, scratched vigorously behind his ear.
"Damn it. I thought I'd sent off one headache, but now there are more. My wife'll kill me when I get home."
Though Kitarn, who received the most children in the mortal world, grumbled, he cared for them with the same sincerity as he had Ginran.
As he tended to the young ones, the wolf-headed Kitarn relentlessly honed his martial prowess.
One day, Ginran's child asked,
"Foster Father. Foster Father."
"What."
"Why do you train until your fists bleed and you collapse from exhaustion?"
"To fight."
The child tilted its head.
"Fight who? There's no reason to fight anyone, right?"
"......"
The child's innocent words rang true.
The era forged by the Guardian Divine Beasts was one of perfect peace.
A refined age where there was no need to clash with other beasts.
Training that served no purpose whatsoever, just as the child said.
"I know this is an age where fangs are unneeded."
"But?"
"Even so. This is how I've lived my whole life."
The first thing he learned after birth was how to sharpen his claws.
The adults taught him to hunt and slay other tribes.
They believed that was the way to be chosen by the god.
His father taught him the meaning of struggle by marching to battle, killing foes, and dying himself.
They slew enemy leaders, raised their tribe's name, seized fields, and captured strongholds.
Fail to do so, and family died, homes were lost, bellies went hungry, and the god's favor eluded them.
He was born to struggle, lived to struggle.
Even if the god denied it, even if all struggle lost meaning, that never changed.
***
"Kuhahaha! Who's this? None other than the famed childcare hero Kitarn himself?"
"May that loose tongue of yours ripen well."
The one approaching with booming laughter was Kitarn's sworn brother, the tiger-headed Hutaero.
"Kuhuhu, Kitarn. Word is your wife plucked every last hair from your hide."
"Rumors. I raised Ginran like my own daughter. She doted on the grandkids."
"Hah~ That wolf-clawed Yuri? I can still see her splattered in blood, claws bared like a madwoman."
Hutaero stroked the scar on his nose bridge.
"Still no whiskers where your wife scratched you."
"Time has passed. The era has changed."
They were sworn brothers now, but he and Hutaero had tried to kill each other several times.
He inherited secret arts from his dying uncle and father, turned his back to his future wife as they cut down dozens of keelkin warriors, and allied with Hutaero after saving a tiger tribe child...
That era had faded into distant memory.
Flutter—
As Hutaero and Kitarn entered the tent, they saw the assembled chieftains seated.
Hutaero scowled fiercely.
"What the hell. Why so few?"
The Plains Tribes Council.
Fewer than half the expected chieftains—only twelve—had gathered for a meeting where all twenty-seven surviving plains tribes should attend.
"We'd like to know that too. Dragonkin Yahuhon."
Rat-headed Sochan, famed as the youngest chieftain, glared at Yahuhon in the head seat.
Those gathered had all received letters from the dragon-headed one in the head seat.
The man once called Great Chieftain. Dragon-Head Yahuhon surveyed the chieftains.
"They aren't needed. I've gathered only those I deem worthy."
"Kuhk! Deem worthy?"
Pig-headed Aekgon retorted.
The chieftains sensed it instinctively.
'The weight of the dragon-head's words is unusual.'
An odd pressure emanated from Yahuhon.
A bizarre scent like blood, intoxicating.
Hutaero bristled, muscles twitching as he subtly unsheathed his claws, irked by it.
As tension rippled through the tent, Yahuhon asked Aekgon,
"Pigkin Aekgon. Do you know what we are?"
"Us? Kuhk! Chieftains! Strong! Great! Huwuk! The twelve chieftains of the plains!"
Aekgon's massive frame shook as he answered.
But the dragon-head shook his head.
"Wrong."
"!?"
Aekgon furrowed his brow, and the chieftains eyed the dragon-head in confusion.
What is he getting at?
To those gazes, the dragon god replied lightly.
"We are failures. As you know, remnants left over from creating the Guardian Divine Beasts. The strongest, greatest beings."
The chieftains' faces twisted.
They gripped their weapons at their sides, baring killing intent toward Yahuhon.
"Dragon-Head. You picking a fight?"
"Harsh words, Yahuhon."
Yahuhon asked the chicken-headed one clutching his blade.
"Chicken-Head Gyeokso. You don't deny it?"
"......"
"The keelkin aren't remnants of Guardian Divine Beast creation. Why not say so?"
Kiiing—
The clear ring of a sword drawn.
The keelkin swiftest sword in the world.
Too late once the sound hit.
Having allowed first strike, even the dragon-head couldn't avoid a fatal wound.
"Hup!"
So they thought.
Gyeokso, the world's swiftest sword wielder.
He trembled, arm shaking, rice stalk feathers flushed red.
No matter how he strained, the sword wouldn't draw.
The dragon's tail pinned the hilt firmly.
'When did he...'
Few sensed Yahuhon's movement.
What was certain: he appeared before Gyeokso at near-invisible speed, struck the hilt back into its sheath the instant the blade emerged.
Gyeokso's eyes bulged with veins as he tried to draw, but the dragon tail on the hilt didn't budge an inch.
The dragon calmly asked the chieftains.
"What of the others? You don't deny your tribes are remnants of Guardian Divine Beast creation?"
"Yahuhon."
Kitarn met the dragon-head's gaze steadily.
"What do you think?"
Yahuhon tilted his head, stroking his chin.
"I thought perhaps. And harbored a doubt."
"Doubt?"
Yahuhon scanned the other chieftains.
"No one here hasn't fought a Guardian Divine Beast, right?"
"......"
"You wondered. How strong are they, really."
Unavoidable curiosity for the mightiest warriors, battle-hardened veterans.
How strong was the perfect beast, the Guardian Divine Beast.
How superior to lord over them.
The dragon god reminisced.
"I kept one close, observed it closely. Inspected bones and sinew, how quickly it learned. Even sparred lightly."
Each chieftain gauged the Guardian Divine Beasts' power by their own measure.
Were they truly absolute?
Truly insurmountable?
Some felt fear, others fury.
And...
"Tiger-Head. You think we're weaker than them too?"
The dragon's clear eyes locked onto the tiger's fierce ones.
"Can we not aspire to surpass the 'heavens'?"
"......"
The tiger pondered.
Guardian Divine Beasts were strong.
Heaven-sent physique, genius eyes grasping techniques at a glance, upper dantian open as if innate.
But.
"No."
The tiger bared his fangs.
"If we fought to the death, I'd win."
"Kukuku. Indeed."
The dragon-head laughed for the first time.
The other tribe heads likely thought the same deep down.
No matter how strong the Guardian Divine Beasts, they were greenhorns ignorant of true struggle.
In a real fight, they'd prevail in the end.
"We can grow stronger than the Guardian Divine Beasts."
Yahuhon met each chieftain's gaze as he spoke.
"Those at the pinnacle of struggle—we can do it."
"......"
"I seek those who share my will. Will none stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me, walk the same path?"
Yahuhon's words stirred the hearts of chieftains who pursued strength above all.
He clenched his fist tightly.
"Will none join me to surpass the heavens and become War Gods?"
Snake-headed Sia narrowed her eyes.
"Yahuhon. You truly mean to kill the Guardian Divine Beasts?"
Rat-headed Sochan's face hardened.
"They are gods. Is killing Guardian Divine Beasts even possible? No one's ever killed a god."
To the chieftains' questions, Yahuhon replied easily.
"Worry not."
Thud!
The dragon-head kicked the nearby brazier.
Red embers spilled, and something hidden within tumbled out, rolling to the chieftains' feet.
Sochan and Sia's faces paled at its identity.
"You mad bastard!"
"Yahuhon! You've already done it!?"
Two thoroughly cooked heads rolled from the brazier.
Horned—they were Guardian Divine Beast heads.
Kitarn's eye twitched.
'The large one is Cheonggeuk, who stayed at the dragonkin lair. And the small one...'
The noticeably smaller head was undoubtedly a young Guardian Divine Beast's.
"Gods die. And I gained power."
Yahuhon stomped the rolling Guardian Divine Beast head.
"With equal divine might, no reason I couldn't kill them."
Kuuuuuu—
The power of the slain Guardian Divine Beast.
The sacred force that inscribes laws upon the world flowed from Yahuhon.
"No need to await the god's choice any longer. Become gods ourselves—that suffices."
Intense light blazed from Yahuhon's eyes, his mane and whiskers whipping fiercely.
"Thus, I name myself Dragon God. Come, those who would walk the War God's path with me. Rise and stand shoulder-to-shoulder at my side."
Yahuhon, having absorbed the Guardian Divine Beast's spirit, was a changed being.
The tiger-head rose without hesitation.
"If you can do it, so can I."
One by one, following his lead, they stood by the Dragon God.
"We fought and fought like that. Being shoved aside like useless junk in the back room now is unbearable."
"Those Guardian Divine Beast bastards ruined our sacred struggles."
Even the hesitant had no reason to refuse the Dragon God.
The last remaining was wolf-headed Kitarn.
The Dragon God gazed down at the silently seated Kitarn with delight.
"Wolf-Head Kitarn. Since birth, pitting strength to see who's superior—that's the nature they imposed on us. Then mustn't we test if they can stand above us?"
Kitarn remained silent.
He disliked Yahuhon's methods.
But Yahuhon's words struck at the core.
'I have lived to struggle and triumph.'
Yet the coming era cornered him.
The end of struggle.
That was neither the life nor death he desired.
'Twenty years ago, when the god didn't choose me. I should have died then.'
A knot lingered in Kitarn's heart.
It was ashes.
A flame unchosen by the god, all struggle rendered meaningless, burned out incompletely.
The warmth of the ashes whispered to him.
'Our lives were in the struggle.'
'Dying with blood spilled was fine.'
'No matter the pain and torment, at struggle's end awaited the god's promised victory.'
Flames roared from the ashes.
'The great victory is gone.'
'Honorable struggle, where even death brings no regret, is gone.'
'It hasn't ended. It's been erased.'
'We must take it back.'
The scent of struggle ignited flames in Kitarn's ashes.
'Those who struggle must die in struggle, at least.'
'The ended struggle, the lost victory, the forfeited death.'
'All that vanished twenty years ago must be reclaimed.'
The final chance, never to return.
Life clutching ashes was a corpse's existence.
He'd pretended to accept it, but his nature yearned for struggle's end.
Kitarn gave a wry smile.
"In the end, I couldn't forget the struggles of twenty years ago."
"That is our life."
Until seizing victory or meeting death, the flames of struggle would burn unceasingly.
The Dragon God extended a hand to Kitarn.
"Wolf-Head. You know it well, don't you? The mission to finish the battles stolen by the god."
"......"
"Our ancestors wail. To seize great victory with our own hands."
Kitarn grasped the Dragon God's hand.
The flames of halted past struggles reignited.
Would they trample the remaining ashes, extinguishing struggle's fire?
Or would struggle's blaze consume the gods, ushering a new era?
The beastmen's world stood at a crossroads.