Chapter 401: Even Chaos Has a Point of View
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 401: Even Chaos Has a Point of View
Elder Lord Sanguine Valdamir, who had mastered Bloodcraft to its absolute limit, honed his Qi Arts, and accepted all his given years as experience, was undoubtedly a powerful foe.
However, the Sanctum was a group that had always won by decision against such vampires. They had maintained their power even while fighting a multi-front war against other heretics, all while dealing with vampires who do not die and only grow wiser with each passing year.
In a way, it was to be expected. The future, after all, belongs to the Saintess.
To be precise, it was because she used the future better than anyone else. But that amounted to the same thing. The Saintess was the only being in the world who could see the future.
“If only everyone here had been martyred. Order would have been achieved through that.”
The Saintess of Steel is invincible. No matter what becomes of the world, no matter how strong the vampires are, she will not suffer so much as a scratch.
In other words, everything except her could be broken. The Saintess of Steel shines brightest on battlefields where she is cornered on all sides. Feruel always returns alive, drenched in blood that is not her own, because even in the worst of situations, she can foresee her own survival.
Therefore, the Saintess of Steel heads only to such battlefields. To places where it is acceptable for everyone but her to die.
“But how can you just neglect this side of things? It's too obvious. If you truly wanted to stop the slaughter, it would have been better for you to leave the Lord Sanguine alone, wouldn't it?”
If her goal had been to save them, she wouldn't have brought them here in the first place. The future the Saintess of Steel can see is limited to herself, but surely she's not incapable of making a basic prediction.
Even with her intentions exposed, the Saintess of Steel was unfazed.
“Do not delve into the Divine. There is no treasure inside a tightly shut box, only an overflow of sin and tragedy that curiosity will unleash. The Divine you unearth will make humanity miserable.”
“Make humanity miserable? Is there a state more miserable than death?”
“Death is miserable because life is precious. But the Divine you unearth will destroy the value of life, of faith, of the soul. Like those vampires, it will shatter the boundary between life and death and reduce humans to inferior beings. This is a warning, a request, and at the same time, a plea.”
Feruel spoke in a tone that made it unclear who she was addressing, but I knew her words were meant for me. I also knew this was the Saintess's version of persuasion.
Vampires, by their very existence, relegate humans to the position of prey. Demanding human blood, they are predators, and humans can be nothing but food and livestock. Furthermore, they are a heaven-defying race that has overcome even death to enjoy eternal life. The Sanctum doesn't hate vampires for no reason.
The secret held by the Divine of Lightning might be something even greater than Bloodcraft. The secret the Lightning Thief wanted to protect, even to the point of hiding the lightning itself, is that dark and deep. The Saintess of Steel and the Sanctum are wary of it.
Still, the Saintess trying to persuade me? How novel.
I appreciate the sentiment, but you and I stand on different ground.
“Vampires are human, too.”
A statement with many implications. It might have been an obvious fact, or perhaps for Tyr, it was a moving sentiment that struck a new chord.
To the Saintess, however, it came across differently.
“…To think that even a human corrupting themself is the karma of humanity. Are you affirming even that?”
Because it was a gentle yet firm rejection. I smiled and nodded, and Feruel's shoulders slumped as if in grief.
In that moment, Feruel moved.
No, she hadn't moved. But in my mind-reading, Feruel had already moved. Feruel had foreseen her own movement, and it was destined to arrive as an unchanging future.
The Saintess of Steel charges. She thrusts a fist that can pulverize anything. Her bare fist pierces my chest and stops behind my back like the wind.
-A promised future that has not yet begun, but will come to pass regardless of what I do.
To think she'd predict my death the moment I refused. That wasn't persuasion, it was an ultimatum, wasn't it?
More importantly, can I even dodge this?
As I grumbled internally, Feruel completed her prophecy.
Every result is preceded by a process that leads to it. Valdamir's movements, as incredible as they were, were the product of a meticulous combination of skill and power if you broke them down piece by piece.
But the Saintess's prophecy was on another level. She observes the result in advance and forcibly connects the process to it. In particular, Feruel's self-prophecy, having narrowed its scope to an extreme degree, possessed a power that could be called absolute. Her invincibility, which earned her the title 'Saintess of Steel,' was merely one facet of this.
The blessing Feruel received was the enforcement of prophecy. The Ironclad Prophecy had pronounced my doom.
The cloth wrapped around her fist tore, strand by strand, revealing Feruel's bare hand. Prophecy is a double-edged sword. When aimed at an opponent, it is sharper than anything, but it is also a power that can slash its wielder. She had been limiting her power until now, but she had graciously revealed her full strength just to kill me.
The future she prophesies for herself will come to pass. Because that result is promised, the observed Feruel is invincible. No obstacle can interfere with her future….
Not even time itself.
Feruel prophesied a movement that surpassed all limits. A speed that no human beast could ever achieve, she brought it into existence by twisting reality with the power of her self-prophecy.
The process vanished. Pushing off the ground, exerting force, propelling the body, cutting through the wind—all such processes were omitted, and only the result Feruel had prophesied came to be. For an instant, Feruel existed in every place she had foreseen. Dots connected, painting the path black.
An absolute power that even the Saintess must handle with care. Without any warning, only the result prophesied by the lofty Sky God was realized. The world corrected itself to execute the prophecy, and the aftershock alone kicked up a storm and a deafening roar. A miracle that transcended the very concept of speed, all to kill one person: me.
Tearing the world asunder, Feruel's fist pierced through my body….
And yet.
No matter how lofty her power, no matter how august and mighty the Divine that protects them, it cannot be faster than Feruel's will.
Because the Saintess, too, is human.
“…!”
There are many ways to deal with a prophecy, but the easiest among them is to deceive it. Even if the prophecy is perfect, the person reading it cannot be.
My body crumbled. Cards bearing the Eight of Spades scattered in every direction like a popped balloon. It was the power of the Golden Lord, Elixir, which I had used to transform the clothes and clouds touching my body into cards. What Feruel thought she had destroyed was a shed skin I had hastily fashioned from cards.
Fortunately, Feruel can only prophesy her own future. I used every power at my disposal to pull my body from the trajectory she had foreseen. My head spun and my ears rang just from moving so fast, but I was alive.
Feruel cried out.
“To take the Divine into your body! That cursed anathema…!”
She noticed right away. I forced myself to ignore the tingling pain in my limbs and replied.
“This is all it takes to be cursed? Seriously. Compared to what you've done, this is a drop in the bucket. Compared to your inexplicable prophecy, what I did was just a cheap trick!”
A person with the power to enforce the future is calling a cheap trick like this a curse? Have all the real curses in the world died out?
Seven of Spades, the Lightning Spool. This card can draw out lightning into fine strands and wind it like a spool of thread. Unlike the one Peru used, this lightning thread is too weak for offense… but being weak has its own uses.
I drew this lightning thread into my body. The thread seeped into the nerves that spread throughout me.
Before meeting the Divine, this would have been a crazy act of self-harm, but now, after meeting the Lightning Thief and learning his secret… I can move my body with thought alone.
…Saying it like that makes it sound like no big deal.
The body is supposed to move with thought anyway. Using the Divine's power just skips the process of thought being transmitted to the body. I almost died even after reading her mind, so isn't self-prophecy a hundred times more of a cheat power?
Anyone would think so, but strangely, the Saintess didn't seem to agree. Feruel glared at me as if looking at a demon.
“The Divine you use will one day lead all of humanity to ruin. King of Humans, mark my words. When the end of humanity comes, you too will not be as you were before.”
“I'll keep that in mind. But since I'm human too, I'll start by protecting myself.”
Feruel bit her lip hard. So hard that I could see blood welling between her teeth. I guess even the invincible can harm themselves.
If she could have her way, she would have dealt with me right then and there, but that was no longer possible. Because darkness had arrived.
Into the Cloud Waterfall, where visibility was already poor, an alien darkness swept in. A pitch-blackness that obscured even an inch ahead filled my vision. It was the power the vampires had gained to oppose the Sanctum, and the weight of the suffering experienced by the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka.
The darkness was no different from the inside of Tyr's body. In that lightless place, the future could not be seen. Self-prophecy would still be possible, but it would lead to a tedious war of attrition. Even if she could predict where she would be, if she couldn't see her surroundings, it would be no different from flailing in water.
“You dare run wild, not knowing your place…! I'll make you regret ever appearing before me!”
She's shown too much of her power. The Sanctum isn't the only one that can figure out countermeasures.
The darkness swirled around Feruel. In the gloom where she couldn't even see her own limbs, Feruel opened her mouth with a look of despair.
“Oh, Saintess of Origin, who blessed this humble servant. Is this truly all the time you have permitted me….”
Feruel muttered in the swamp-like darkness. No longer able to envision a future of fighting, she decided to retreat in accordance with her prophecy. For me, it was a stroke of immense luck.
“You think you can escape?!”
No, Tyr. Let's just let her go. An invincible being is offering to leave on her own. Trying to hold her back will only hurt our hands.
Casually finding her way in a darkness that would suffocate an ordinary person, Feruel warned us before she left.
“Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka. It would be wise not to trust the King of Humans. He can be an ally to vampires… but he will never be an ally to only vampires.”
Tyr didn't even deign to listen, just scoffing.
“Play your oracle games with your own pawns. Did you think I would be swayed by such nonsense?”
“…It's an answer that comes with a little thought, no prophecy needed. But even sincere advice will not be heard if the heart is closed.”
Leaving behind ominous words to the very end, Feruel vanished into the darkness. Even in the pitch-black where nothing was visible, it seemed the future of her escape was clear. I felt reality twist, and then Feruel's thoughts were gone. She had fled.
To be able to appear on the opposite side of the continent, in the middle of enemy territory, and retreat without a single scratch. And here I am, struggling not to make enemies! Then again, you'd need that kind of power to go around picking fights everywhere and still be fine.
“Hmph. Cunning wretches. They claim to read the future, yet all they know is sowing discord and conspiracy.”
“They do it because it's effective. It worked this time, didn't it? With no other catalyst, you've ended up in a fight to the death with Claudia.”
I shrugged and looked around.
When you think about it, the Sanctum only managed to win over a single person: the Thunderarch. And yet, this much blood was spilled. With the Thunderarch and hundreds of the Guardians of Thunder, who had led and run Claudia until now, all dead, the chain of resentment will now link together and snowball, even if no one else interferes.
Fortunately, the Fallen Dominion now has a king who will receive both hatred and awe in equal measure.
“…Leave.”
The King of the Fallen Dominion ordered us to leave.