Chapter 69
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Translator: volt
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: To Survive (3)
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"My God, L-Lord! Lord! We have to do something, anything...!"
"The great chief went in! The great chief went inside!"
"Bring buckets of water! What? Grab anything that can put out the fire—water, sand, whatever!"
Achak's mind went blank. This wasn't part of the plan. He hadn't even considered it.
It was absurd. For a great chief to rush in himself just to save some nobody...
Achak's hand trembled on the hilt of the knife at his waist. Without realizing it, he had stepped out from the alley and was staring at the burning house.
As he turned his dazed gaze, people were slowly approaching him.
Of course. Lingering near an arson scene with a blade at your side looked suspicious to anyone.
He'd been too shocked to remember to hide.
"...Are you the culprit?"
"..."
"Lord Rolli? What should we do?"
"For now... confiscate his weapon and take him somewhere to lock up. My God, what a..."
"N-No."
"...What?"
"I-I didn't think it would end up like this... I had no idea..."
"..."
Achak shuddered. He still couldn't believe the scene he'd just witnessed.
He hadn't been here long, but he knew.
It was the great chief's leadership that held this place together. Without him, the community would...
What about his surviving tribesmen?
The aftermath unfolded vividly in his mind.
Even as his arms were restrained, Achak trembled violently and wept at the tragedy before him.
"Th-This isn't... This isn't what I wanted..."
"..."
"N-No, I-I didn't know the great chief would... die..."
"...What? He passed away?"
"Huh?"
Achak let out a dumb noise at Lord Rolli's question.
That was when it happened.
Crunch.
He turned his head. From the collapsing, flame-engulfed hut, someone emerged.
Flames still licked the sky like the tongues of hell.
Pouring out heat that no one could survive.
Yet amid it all, someone strode out boldly.
His face was contorted, his clothes reduced to worthless rags that barely covered him, burns twisting across his body.
And Achak saw it.
The burns fading like ripples on water.
The gashes, distortions, and tears on his body vanishing one by one. The wounds healed in an instant. No, it went beyond mere healing.
Not even a scar remained. As if time itself had rewound.
Because...
"Uh... uhh... uugh..."
...Achak's mind convulsed, struggling to process the incomprehensible. Was this a hallucination from extreme agitation, or was he truly seeing it?
A man emerging from the flames.
The tips of his hair ignited, then extinguished.
His body still radiated the fire demon's heat, yet he stood before them utterly unscathed, not a single hair out of place.
"He" unwrapped the man bundled in wet cloth over his shoulders.
The man with snake tattoos on both shoulders—the Catawba tribe's great chief.
The snake-tattooed man gazed up at him with awe. Tears of fear streamed as he knelt on his one remaining knee.
Flames still roared behind them, but their light and heat dared not touch the halo cloaking "his" form.
He placed a hand on the snake-tattooed man's shoulder, murmuring something, then turned his head.
Toward him.
Toward Achak.
Achak shuddered at that gaze alone. Despite being near-naked from burned clothes, he exuded more overwhelming power than any fully armored warrior.
Glancing around, everyone had knelt in worship. Tribe or foe—it didn't matter.
He stood before Achak, arms still pinned.
And spoke.
"I don't know who you lost."
"..."
"My condolences."
"Ah... uugh..."
Achak was too overwhelmed to speak.
He had so much to say.
Why not drive out the Catawba devils? No, why not kill them?
Why accept them into the community?
Why, why... why...?
Countless "whys" piled up, dissolving into tears. All he could do was sob.
"Uh... uuh... uuwaaah..."
As if knowing every word Achak wanted to say, he replied.
"Release this man."
"...Lord Nemo, it's dangerous."
"This hardly counts as 'danger' to me."
"...Let him go."
At Lord Rolli's command, the hesitant men released Achak's arms. Nemo himself lifted the fallen man to his feet.
Achak looked up at him. Flames blazed behind like a cape.
The stars and moon crowned his head like a king, his invulnerable body the ultimate armor.
He, Nemo...
"Uh, uuh... uugh..."
"Stand. And..."
Nemo drew the knife from Achak's waist.
"...I know what you must do."
"Y-Yes... Yes? Yes?"
Nemo placed the blade in Achak's hand.
Achak grew more confused, unable to grasp the moment. Why? After saving the snake-tattooed man, now kill him? Why?
And then.
Stab.
"Uhh... uh...?"
The dagger pierced Nemo's chest.
"..."
"..."
"..."
In that instant, silence fell over everyone.
The Spaniards who came to pray.
The Algonquins rushing to fight the blaze.
The English arriving to handle the situation.
And all the gathered onlookers.
They watched as he plunged the knife into his own chest.
And he whispered into Achak's ear.
"Your grudge... I will bear it all."
"..."
"Right here.
If it doesn't end here, then forever."
Shink.
The blade withdrew from his heart with a chilling sensation.
Blood overflowed, yet no scar remained.
Achak knelt and wept.
Then rain fell upon this harsh world.
The flames—and the hatred—faded with it.
Achak... said nothing.
He merely clung to Nemo's legs and sobbed.
Sometimes this world is utterly cruel to people.
If only one loaf of bread is given among a hundred starving souls, they might have to turn cruel.
That doesn't make them villains.
Yet from there, malice sprouts, grudges accumulate, and generational wars ignite.
It's not because people are cruel.
It's because the world... is.
This time, the Catawba and Tutelo killed these people's families and neighbors.
But last time, these folks slaughtered Catawba and Tutelo.
Tribal conflicts and wars are commonplace here. This moment is just a fleeting link in an endless chain of vengeance.
So tangled that judging good and evil feels pointless.
When the first English arrived on Roanoke, nearby natives lured them with false info to kill rival tribes.
The Chesapeake used the English to threaten the Powhatan, who then exterminated the Chesapeake.
How many neighbors had the man wailing before me killed before I arrived?
Is he a villain? Mourning only his own while ignoring those he slew?
I don't know.
Yeah.
I don't know.
In the rain, countless people looked up to me.
Nemopa followers knelt uniformly, hands clasped.
Those new to Christian rites clumsily mimicked, bowing heads or raising hands haphazardly.
But all paid me homage.
The flames beside me flickered in the rain but still burned.
Thousands, maybe tens of thousands, gathered.
All eyes on me. Eleanor hurriedly draped a cloak over my half-naked form.
...In this moment, these words must be spoken.
I brushed my chest. No wound remained.
Anyone else would have died from a stab to the heart.
Or lived scarred hideously.
Not me.
"...I will state it once more."
My body bears no scars.
"Those who commit evil will pay due punishment. No one escapes without trial or penalty.
But I will not brand anyone a villain."
I have the power to make this world less cruel, and the resources.
"I, and this community, will exclude no one who wishes to join us."
Literally infinite resources.
I can do it.
I can add a touch of kindness to this cruel world.
I can absorb all the evil, grudges, and hatred born from it with my unscarred body.
I may not break the cycle, but I can make the world slightly better.
So I will.
I will do it.
Thomas Hewett gazed down at the charred remains of the hut... or what was left after the fire.
The memory still felt like a dream.
He'd heard that being stabbed or burned was humanity's worst agony.
That's why they tore and burned heretics and traitors.
And...
"He endured it all."
Solely to save a man.
Solely for this community.
"...Oh, Lord."
He recalled first meeting him.
The foolish days when he mistook him for some Asian prince.
Revived on death's door, he thought no greater grace could come.
Not that the favors since were minor.
He provided food, shelter, protection from enemies.
Any failure would have meant their doom.
Yet they'd given nothing back.
Still, he risked everything to save them.
That grace was immense. Hewett knew it well.
But...
"Perhaps that day's grace was greater still."
Enduring all that pain, he protected this holy Virginia community.
Teaching them something greater than hate and rage.
...True life.
Hewett turned from the ashes and walked toward the church where he awaited.
A path from dreamlike haze to reality. With a sigh, Hewett pondered the bitter truths.
No fairy tale where hatred vanished like magic.
The arsonists surrendered. Sentenced to labor in southern mines. Some protested noisily.
Algonquins who fought Catawba-Tutelo still shunned them. Natural after recent war.
Hewett sighed again amid such thoughts, arriving at the council hall.
Time to deliver more bad news to Lord Nemo.
Creeeak.
"Ah, Mr. Hewett?"
"...Lord Nemo."
People bustled, debating. Tablets showed shifting numbers and charts crunching calculations.
"Seems we're short on English to teach the Catawba farming..."
"For now, increase the next batch of imported horses."
"Cattle too, please. Not enough for breeding programs."
"Got it, John. Lots to discuss—I'll compile charts soon."
As talks swirled, the figure at the head listened to reports... no, the angel.
Fatigue etched his face. Population doubled; work doubled. Inevitable.
"Lord Nemo?"
"Ah, Mr. Hewett. You're here. Something to report?"
"...Yes."
Hewett nodded gravely, offering his laptop.
"As you'll see..."
Desperate figures scrolled.
"Food is critically short. We won't last years like this."
"..."
"..."
"..."
All eyes turned to Hewett. He pressed on, burdened.
"Not just food. Without slashing resources per person, we can't sustain this population..."
"Indeed. And land to distribute is lacking too."
"...Yes."
Everything was scarce.
The gift economy half-collapsed from the uproar, absorbing many into the fold.
Semi-self-sufficient groups now fully reliant on Virginia's production strained it massively.
Prior generous allocations slashed. Complaints everywhere.
Hard-won tribal peace might reignite.
"Public opinion could sour. For now..."
"Hold."
Interrupting, Nemo drummed the table thoughtfully.
"I know what you're suggesting, but no. Unequal distribution... once tried, it fractures the community beyond repair."
"Th-Then some solution...?"
"There is. If plans proceed, food surplus and goods production solved in one go."
"Really? What..."
Nemo pondered, then spoke.
"Lack of arable land, right?"
"Yes."
"We have automatic pumps, yes?"
"Ah... yes, those wondrous devices?"
"Exactly."
"But why...?"
"Replicate them. Modify for mobility."
"Pardon?"
"Might take months or years, but certain."
Hewett tilted his head, unseeing the link.
"...With steam engines, no one starves."
Nemo spoke with conviction.