Chapter 223: The End on the Demon Train
Chapter 223: The End on the Demon Train
A period of hardship had passed.
The Demon Train itself had not changed much.
Several powerful individuals had died, but in terms of sheer numbers, the casualties were few compared to the total number of passengers. Furthermore, it became known that the reason for their deaths was a terrorist act by one who rejected the coming future and nearly killed everyone.
As that fact spread, the voices opposing reform diminished significantly.
I was somewhat concerned about the mental health of Al’shel, who had personally witnessed the descended entity, but he simply stood up calmly and continued his duties. "This is not the first time I have seen an Avatar," he said. "Nor is it the first time I have seen those I know being slaughtered before my eyes."
The global crisis brought about by a single person faded away quietly, failing to change the world.
However, that didn't mean no scars were left behind.
The funeral I was attending was proof of that.
Perhaps it was a testament to the fact that he was a man of the old era and held no great authority. Although many mourners were coming and going, considering his strength and his status within his race, it didn't feel like a truly large crowd.
Yet, there was something peculiar.
A strangely high number of other races were among the mourners.
Intrigued, I asked the person guarding the hall, but the only answer I received was that they themselves hadn't realized he had ties to so many different species.
I quietly leaned against The Wall and thought about him.
About Grix, the first powerhouse of the Demon Train we had encountered.
How far into the future he had looked.
How cooperative he had been with us.
And what a stroke of immense luck it had been for us to meet him first.
I had thought it impossible to reform the Demon Train in less than thirty days, but his plans and intelligence, combined with the meeting he arranged with Zess, had made it possible.
And yet, he had closed his eyes without ever seeing the future of the Demon Train he so desperately wanted to witness.
Because Al’shel and the Iron Man had awakened.
Because his body had remained without being consumed by flames.
I thought Grix would be the same.
But he never opened his eyes; he simply drew his last breath.
What had gone wrong?
Had he failed to endure that brief moment until the Shadow Keeper arrived?
Or had he endured that short time, only for his body to reach its limit, causing his consciousness to fade away in his sleep?
Or perhaps, he had already exhausted his entire lifespan the moment he launched his attack against Dam.
Countless thoughts crossed my mind, but there was no way for us to know the answer.
There was no medical examiner here, and even if we knew, what would change?
The fact that Grix was dead could not be denied.
"This is depressing," I muttered to myself.
To settle my heavy heart, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a metal rod.
Click.
The cold sensation of the metal pressed against my teeth, absorbing the heat from my body.
But the gloom didn't lift.
Why was that?
Perhaps it was because this emotion wasn't accompanied by anger.
It wasn't a burning passion like the rage that usually scorched my body.
It was a cold, sinking feeling.
Then again, Grix and I weren't even close.
The number of times we'd spoken could be counted on both hands, and we had virtually no personal conversations to speak of.
In other words, I was only attending this funeral because we were professional acquaintances.
So why?
Why did a corner of my heart ache as if I were bidding farewell to a lifelong friend?
Sigh.
I really want a cigarette.
For the first time in a long while, that thought occurred to me.
I wanted to trap this emotion in smoke and exhale it all away.
As I composed myself and watched the procession of mourners, something caught my eye.
Beings with bronze skin and fierce faces.
A race with flames flickering on their backs.
In other words, Deva’s kin.
So, they were still around.
Since Zess had said she didn't know, I thought they were truly extinct.
It seemed a small number had survived somewhere.
And seeing members of that race attending Grix’s funeral meant he had either done them a great favor or shared a deep friendship with them.
I looked up at the sky.
Thinking of the one who had departed first.
I changed my mind and decided to stay until the funeral ended.
My original plan was to force Brigadier General Un-ho—who had been sleeping in his room, scratching his belly, oblivious to the chaos—into a mandatory diet.
But witnessing this was more important right now.
After waiting in a corner of the funeral hall for a few hours, the burial process finally began.
A solemn atmosphere followed as they carried the coffin toward the grave.
It seemed cremation was the traditional way for Grix’s race, the Nuu.
The coffin was placed before a burning kiln. As if for the final rite, the lid was opened, revealing Grix’s face with his eyes closed.
Up to that point, it was similar to other funerals I had seen.
But the action that followed was something I never expected.
One by one, the people nearby opened Grix’s eyes, plucked out an eyeball, and tucked it into their robes.
Slowly, without haste.
By my standards, it felt incredibly strange and macabre, but they were a different race. It wouldn't be surprising if they had different funeral customs.
So, I watched in silence.
Since Grix had many eyes, the process took quite a while.
The moment the person at the end of the line plucked an eye, the man acting as the chief mourner approached me.
"Um... excuse me, may I ask a favor of you?"
He spoke with great humility and politeness.
"Yes, what is it?"
I replied with as much courtesy as I could muster.
"I know this must look bizarre to other races... but this is our funeral rite. Eyes are of great importance to our people, so we keep them as the final mementos left by the deceased."
I see. That makes sense, in a way.
"Therefore, I would like Lee Ha-ram to receive the second-to-last eyeball."
"May I ask one question?"
"Yes, anything."
"Is there a specific meaning to the last eyeball?"
Not the last, but the second-to-last. Why such an ambiguous position?
"It is an old tradition that the person closest to the deceased receives the second-to-last eye."
"...Then I believe you, the chief mourner, should be the one to receive it."
"No. I was merely an adjutant who served Lord Grix. I am not someone close to him."
"Then his blood rel—"
I swallowed the words before I could finish the sentence.
If I thought about it for even a second, it was obvious.
The fact that an adjutant was acting as the chief mourner meant that Grix had no kin left.
"...I apologize. That was a slip of the tongue."
"It is quite alright. We are the ones who should apologize for making such a shameless request. If it makes you uncomfortable, you may refuse—"
"No, I'll do it."
"Thank you."
Did everyone at the crematorium hear those words?
The chief mourner stepped aside to clear a path.
As I moved my feet, a path toward Grix opened.
A short path, yet one filled with heat.
I walked down it slowly, very slowly.
I stood beside him.
He lay there peacefully, his face showing no signs of damage despite the golden flames, wearing a quiet smile.
I observed his face carefully and reached for one of his closed eyes.
My hand touched the violet skin, which felt devoid of the power it once held as a powerhouse.
With only a tiny bit of strength, his eyelid opened all too easily.
Then, I reached inside and gave a slight tug.
The eyeball came out effortlessly.
Slightly sticky, slightly cold.
Yet, a clear, translucent, and flawless eyeball rested in my palm.
Everyone around me bowed their heads in silence.
As I stepped back, the chief mourner closed the coffin and slowly pushed Grix’s body into the burning kiln.
Slowly, ever so slowly.
Grix’s body, now missing all but one eye, fell into a quiet slumber amidst the crackling sounds and the heat.
And in my heart, I prayed for his peace.
Though our races were different.
I hoped that the Hero who had protected a world, his own race, and even other races, would rest in peace.
And I hoped his dreams would come true.
* * *
Now then, from here on... is the secret regarding the end of the Demon Train, known only to Al’shel and me.
* * *
"The Core has been damaged."
Those were the first words Al’shel spoke when he called me privately after the battle.
Glancing at The Core, it looked exactly the same as when I first saw it, but Al’shel wasn't the type to lie in a situation like this.
Therefore, I skipped the unnecessary questions and asked bluntly.
"How was it damaged?"
"There was no direct destruction or contact, but..."
Al’shel glanced at The Core and continued with a lonely expression.
"A portion of The Core has been corrupted due to contact with the Otherworldly Power and Dam's heat. Because of that, the overall balance has collapsed."
He closed his eyes and placed a hand on the surface, as if checking The Core's condition.
I remained silent for a while, not wanting to disturb him.
When I felt enough time had passed, I spoke again.
"So, what's the problem?"
He wouldn't have called me here for a minor issue.
There had to be a grave problem for him to summon only me.
"...There won't be any issues for the time being. However, as time passes, the problem will gradually grow."
Al’shel opened his eyes and continued as if looking into the future.
"The Core is already consuming energy to heal or isolate The Corrupted parts. However, The Core is a precision mechanism created through a convergence of countless spells, technologies, and accidental miracles. The consumption rate is beyond the expected range. Thus, while it may not be a problem at first, it will slowly break The Core down in the long run."
His voice was grounded in reality.
It was clearly a prediction, yet he spoke as if he had already seen that future.
"It will break down bit by bit until, eventually, The Corrupted part will break free from control and begin to spread its contamination. As a result, The Core's output and processing power will gradually decrease, and at some point... the Demon Train will collapse."
"...How much time is left until then?"
"I do not know. But it is not something that will happen immediately. I suspect it will take at least a thousand years before any noticeable problems arise..."
A thousand years. Certainly not a short time.
But what if we thought of it this way?
If Earth were guaranteed to be destroyed in a thousand years, and we had to leave before then.
Of course, since it wouldn't happen within their own lifetime, some might not care.
However, among those aboard the Demon Train, there are beings with incredibly long lifespans.
Considering that, if they had to leave Earth within forty years...
Could society truly escape the madness caused by an impending apocalypse?
"Is there a solution?"
"We need a powerhouse who is well-versed in magic or technology and can continuously infuse the missing energy. Such a person must manage The Core indefinitely."
"How strong must they be?"
"Since The Core itself produces residual energy, they don't need to be an overwhelming powerhouse. One-third of my strength... no, even one-seventh would be sufficient."
"Was there anyone like that among the powerhouses of the Demon Train?"
"There are a few who fit that description, but... Lee Ha-ram."
The corners of Al’shel’s mouth twisted.
"Can you trust them?"
I couldn't argue with that.
His words were far too logical.
And through those words, I realized what Al’shel wanted to say.
"...Are you saying you're going to stay here?"
"I would like to say yes, but that also seems difficult."
This time, Al’shel wore a bitter expression.
"I do not believe the passengers of the Demon Train would accept a new ruler who possesses everything."
Ah.
I understood.
They were the ones who had accepted this reform on the condition that Al’shel would disappear.
Many were even skeptical of the Star Race; they agreed with the reforms but opposed them simply because Al’shel was of the Star Race, only consenting after he agreed to leave.
So, how would they react if Al’shel said he was staying?
Even if he had the noble justification of maintaining The Core.
Could they truly be convinced?
Or would they believe that Al’shel had intentionally caused this situation for that very purpose?
Even I was thinking this way; there was no guarantee that those who had led their own races for a long time wouldn't think the same.
"...Then what do you want to do? Just leave?"
"That is also an option. We could leave while pretending to know nothing, or leave after informing them of the truth. We are, after all, merely visitors passing through."
Visitors.
I had thought so at first, too.
But over the past month, I had realized something.
These people were also living beings. They were not so different from humans.
That was why I was agonizing over this.
"...There must be another way, right?"
If it were just those two choices, Al’shel could have chosen for himself.
There would have been no need to come to The Core so secretly.
"Yes, there is another way."
Al’shel’s gaze turned toward Al’sophia, who was positioned at the center of The Core.
After a moment, as if he had made a decision, he spoke.
"Lee Ha-ram. Please kill me, then cast my corpse into The Core."