Chapter 90
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: The God That Was Not Born (4)
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89. The God That Was Not Born (4)
-You've started developing a resistance to poison, huh?
This was a signal that the alchemist's experimental subject was no longer just poison, but Enoch himself.
From that day on, the experiments inflicted on Enoch grew even more sadistic and cruel, as if testing his limits.
-You're not expelling the poison with mana, yet you've gained resistance to all these poisons? They all have different mechanisms?
Enoch was administered poisons ranging from the most trivial to those strictly banned by the Empire.
How many times was he brought back from the brink of death with antidotes or regeneration, only to repeat the cycle?
-Hmm... At this point, aren't you basically a living universal antidote?
Enoch's once pale skin had turned a distinct brown, as if scorched by fire.
And he had acquired a body resistant to most poisons.
Resistance to poison was one of the hallmark traits of House Zahav. But the process of awakening it was far too different from what anyone had anticipated.
Blood, pain, despair, pus, death, and resentment.
A fragile power that had barely bloomed amid all those horrors.
Everyone could see, even if they didn't want to, that this was a form far removed from the current Enoch. And that it was only the beginning.
"Ugh-!"
One noble with a weak stomach vomited up the contents of his banquet meal.
He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears as if he could endure no more... but nightmares weren't something you could escape that way.
-The deadline is generous, so maybe I can run a little personal experiment.
The alchemist pulled out not a flask of poison, but an ordinary hammer. He eyed Enoch with anticipation.
-If the inside is tough, can the outside be tough too?
The experiments that followed were closer to torture than anything resembling science.
Sometimes bludgeoning with blunt instruments, sometimes slicing with blades, occasionally dunking his body in boiling oil or unknown drugs—the alchemist thoroughly destroyed Enoch's body.
At the end of each session, he'd force-feed him raw regeneration potion or some similar mystery drug to barely keep him alive.
Then, to check how much it had changed, he'd slice open his belly to inspect the organs or grind bones for samples.
Pain so intense that death might have been preferable.
Yet Enoch endured these experiments that would have driven grown adults mad long ago.
-Is a commission something you do on someone else's request?
-Hmm? Mostly, yeah. Procuring test subjects and materials costs a fortune. Black mages are handy for that.
-...I'll kill you. All of you black mages too.
-Haha! Wanting to give back the pain you've received is instinct in any creature. But enduring this far just for that... there's more to you.
He was right.
Enoch hadn't held onto his sanity solely through simple vengeance.
The solid sense of self from his Earth memories. And...
-It's not just about the pain I've suffered. I'll repay it all, including the shares of the innocents you've killed without remorse.
-...That's unexpected.
There was clearly pity for the other test subjects captured alongside him, who unlike him hadn't endured and had died.
-You know this, right? In Calypso Territory, there are no truly innocent people. That girl who froze to death was a pickpocket thief with nimble fingers by nature. The old woman crushed to death was a con artist who'd spent her life running small-scale scams. You know that?
-More or less.
-And yet you call them innocent and vow to avenge them? Look, kid. Seems like we'll be seeing each other a while, so here's some advice: Be a little more honest. Otherwise, you'll go mad quick. Like me.
-My mind won't change. I hate the sins, but I don't want to hate the people. Not all of them, but most could have lived normal lives with a slightly better environment.
-Ahaha! What about me then? Maybe my environment turned me into this guy who wrecks your body today.
-Is someone who doesn't pity others' pain, doesn't feel shame for their own flaws, shows no consideration for anyone, and won't even judge right from wrong... human?
-Huh?
-You're not human.
Even as his mangled body twitched with pain, Enoch spoke calmly.
Yes. Enoch was enduring well... but that didn't mean he was doing so with a fully sound mind.
It was more like relying on memories from his safest time on Earth, free of worries or concerns.
In a way, speaking words no one in Calypso taught or understood made him no different from a madman.
But people outside Calypso—especially those born of noble or imperial blood—gave it another name than madness.
Nobility, or honor.
He wouldn't bend amid hellish torment. Instead of submission before those who held his life in their hands, he bared his teeth.
"A lion's cub is a lion from youth, and even at the bottom of the world, the bloodline endures..."
Enoch's plight was so horrific that merely watching was burdensome, yet no one turned their gaze away from him.
Not because they couldn't, but because they felt it deserved reverence, even if it wasn't the heroic tale they'd imagined.
Time passed like that.
Enoch's body, repeatedly shattered and regenerated externally, awakened regenerative power beyond human limits.
This too was one of House Zahav's hallmark traits.
Though still confined to the dim underground, Enoch's body could always maintain peak condition.
...Ready to fight at any moment.
-Impressive. Truly impressive. A body like this is a first. Honestly, I think it's more beautiful than any beauty.
-Crazy pervert bastard.
-Ah, it was just a metaphor, not like that, kid. More like awe at how resilient a human body can become.
The mad alchemist grinned, pulling a crystal orb from his pocket.
-So, this time, let's break your soul a bit instead of your body.
-Keep acting cocky, and you'll die by my hand first.
-Heh. That might not be bad either. You know that, kid? You're the greatest masterpiece of my life.
-Drop the 'friend' crap if it disgusts you.
-So prickly. Anyway, even you might find this tough.
The alchemist activated the crystal orb with a confident expression.
From it flowed a mind-shattering spell cast by black mages.
-Graaaahhh!!
Even Enoch, accustomed to most pains, couldn't endure five full minutes and let out a beastly scream.
Myriad eyes staring at Enoch, corpses entwining his limbs, bloodied tentacles slicing his belly and burrowing into his guts—and always culminating in his greatest trauma.
His mother's death.
No physical strain, so no recovery time; the black magic gnawed at him day and night.
A powerful curse and one of the few horrific illusion magics—before long, Enoch's black hair had turned completely white.
Depigmentation from extreme stress. But by the time all his hair had whitened...
Enoch suddenly regained his senses. He could distinguish reality from illusion.
-Wow. Even this worked?
-...
The alchemist exclaimed in ecstatic shock. It was natural. It seemed Enoch's mind and soul had finally overcome the black magic curse.
Of course, the reality was slightly different. His flesh had simply 'adapted' to the dark magic power, gaining resistance to it.
The curse weakened due to resistance; his soul hadn't elevated, nor had a new mental barrier formed.
But that hardly mattered to the alchemist.
What mattered was that Enoch had become a body that could withstand entirely new threats.
-This should be enough.
-...
-I heard you were just a whore's son... Something special from your father's side? At this point, we could call it divine flesh without shame.
-...
-Yeah. We've raised you this far, time to harvest. Be happy. Soon, you'll be one with me.
-...
-What? No reaction? Did you finally snap this time?
-...What's that?
-That? It's your mom, though not much left.
The alchemist grinned and lifted a head placed beside the crystal orb, still emitting curses even now.
-Where was it... Raven Clan? Heard their members cast preservation spells on dead whores' bodies to play with them.
-What?
-Thought maybe, so I tried buying it, but they resisted fiercely. Had to take it by force... Sorry. Only the head's left.
-Mom...
-Figured after all your suffering, I'd give a final gift. You know, like giving kids a favorite doll before surgery.
-...
Long, straight black hair. Beauty so stunning it widened eyes unaccustomed to it in Calypso.
A faint smile lingered on her lips, the only part left of her.
As if relieved that at least her child had survived.
-I'll leave the head there. Ends tomorrow anyway, so spend your last time with family, right?
The mad alchemist's idea of kindness. But to Enoch, it became the final trigger.
Resistances piled up unknowingly to both the alchemist and Enoch himself. A body adapted to all manner of horrors.
Its limit began to unlock unconsciously.
-Right. You've changed a lot now, but... you look like your mom, huh?
-Yeah. Quite a bit.
A gentle smile formed on Enoch's lips.
-Didn't want to see her like this.
The rage that had burned unquenchably in Enoch's eyes for years. With madness as added fuel, it became an inferno.
That blaze wouldn't die until it reduced one side—Enoch or his enemies—to ashes.