Chapter 562: A Tale of the Past, Humans and Sin - 2
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 562: A Tale of the Past, Humans and Sin - 2
With these hands, he had devoured over ten thousand humans. He was a beast that ate humans, their predator and natural enemy. There was no need to fear the King of Humans...
That thought had vanished long ago.
The King of Humans was young and innocent. But contrary to her appearance, she was violent, powerful, and above all, clever. When Ankra charged with his claws out, the King of Humans neither advanced nor retreated.
She simply drew a hatchet from her waist and threw it.
Humanity's greatest trait is the use of tools, for they use their forelimbs not to walk, but to grasp. Unlike other beasts that use their front legs to launch themselves forward, humans throw things.
Humans aren't the only ones to use tools, and throwing is not their exclusive privilege. Still, it is a formidable power, one rarely seen among other beasts.
And the King of Humans, while perhaps not the strongest individual human, was a 'concept' that encompassed them all. When it came to the act of 'throwing,' she was incomparable.
The ragged soldiers lost their limbs and were swept away. Even these powerful warriors who knew no death lost their will to fight before an explosion of power that defied imagination. No, even if their will remained, the bodies they needed to enact it were shattered.
Ankra was no exception.
Just as he thought he had barely dodged the axe that had clear-cut the jungle, the King of Humans' other arm blurred. It was a strike as if pinning the world to a cutting board and slamming down. Simultaneously, a violent storm swept over Ankra's right arm.
“Kua, kuaaaaak!”
The horizontally spinning axe ground its way from Ankra's shoulder to his elbow. Where the axe made contact, blood evaporated, creating a red ripple. It was closer to pulverization than amputation, a destructive force unthinkable for a thrown weapon.
Ankra was sent flying like the trash he usually discarded, tumbling across the ground. An unbearable terror filled his face.
“Your arm grows back quickly, doesn't it?”
In contrast, the girl before him—the small absolute ruler wearing the title of King of Humans—gazed at Ankra's shoulder with a look full of curiosity.
Having devoured tens of thousands of humans, Ankra's body could recover quickly, and he could even enlarge parts of it. His transcendent vitality had played a large role in his reign of terror over the jungle. Though it was a useless ability now, it bought Ankra precious time.
Time to appeal to the King of Humans.
“O, King of Humans!!!”
“Hm? Me? Why?”
“Why? Why did you attack me!!”
At the unexpected question, the girl's eyes widened, unsure of what to do. The way she rolled her round eyes around made her look like a guilty animal trying to gauge the situation.
“I was living peacefully in this jungle! I raised livestock and hunted, living a life as intense and fulfilling as any other human! Until you came!”
He wasn't wrong. Though the dead might think differently, he had spent his days in pastoral slaughter.
He hunted, captured, killed, and ate humans. One could condemn it as cruel, but in a jungle teeming with beasts that were hard to catch and offered little meat, humans were high-quality livestock. Ankra just happened to eat an exceptional number of them; cannibalism was a frequent occurrence in this jungle.
“But you, who have never set foot in this jungle before! Just because I eat a few people, you invade my territory and try to kill me?!”
The King of Humans had tried to kill him first, so he had only resisted; he had only fought back against an invader. Ankra shouted, spitting blood.
But the girl's demeanor was completely different from Ankra's. The flustered girl scratched her head with the blunt side of her axe and said.
“Why? You're the one who challenged me first, right?”
“A... challenge?”
“Yeah. You bared your teeth at me and tried to fight, didn't you? So I just fought back.”
“What?”
Ankra was speechless at their completely different perspectives.
Ankra was the king of the jungle, and he had fought a battle of destiny against the King of Humans, who could not accept his ways. But from what the King of Humans was saying, the reason for the fight was nothing more and nothing less than the fact that he had picked one.
“It's the leader's job to accept a challenge! I was just granting your wish!”
This was completely different from what the Prophet had said. Ankra asked in a trembling voice.
“You didn't come to get revenge... for the thousand people I ate?”
“Huh? A thousand people? Why does that matter? I just killed a thousand people myself.”
She was right. Ankra had brought not only his ragged soldiers but all the ordinary warriors of his tribe. And the King of Humans had slaughtered them in an instant. Without any hesitation. In fact, she seemed to have enjoyed it.
Ankra fell into confusion. The King of Humans was far more powerful than he had thought, but also far more savage. A kindred spirit. The reason Ankra felt fear was because he recognized her as one of his own and understood the difference in their power.
“Were you scared of dying? Then why on earth did you pick a fight with me? You were bound to lose.”
A declaration made arrogant by its simple truth. His pride was wounded, but this was no time to worry about that. Seeing a sliver of hope, Ankra hurriedly made an excuse.
“It was because of the Prophet! She prophesied that you would attack me!”
“Whether you were incited or deceived, you still picked the fight, right? You were full of thoughts of beating me. So it was a challenge.”
“It wasn't my true wish! If you and the Prophet hadn't come, I would have just wanted to live peacefully like I always have!”
The slaves of the Anka tribe might not have been included in that peace, but Ankra's words were undoubtedly true. The girl calmed the thrill of the hunt and muttered, her voice sounding as if she'd sobered up a little.
“Really?”
The hostility that had filled the jungle subsided. The terror that made every hair on his body stand on end lifted like a fog. As Ankra, freed from death, gasped for breath, the King of Humans, having withdrawn her killing intent, turned around with refreshing decisiveness.
“Yeah. You're terrified. You won't challenge me again. It's no fun, but... if you're going to submit.”
She seemed slightly disappointed, showing her back a little too deliberately... but he felt no desire to launch a surprise attack. He had felt the difference in their class.
Above all, the sheer violence displayed by the King of Humans... it easily surpassed that of Ankra, the man-eater. The sight of her, not backing down despite not having a regenerating body, had broken Ankra's spirit.
'Still, I survived...! I can just recover the power I lost! As long as I'm alive, I can plan for the future!'
Just as Ankra was rejoicing in the relief of his survival, someone appeared beside the girl without any warning.
“My King...”
The Prophet. She who reads the heavenly signs and feels the earth's veins, who watches the movements of celestial bodies and predicts the flow of clouds and wind. The priestess of the King of Humans.
She was the one who had come to Ankra and informed him that the King of Humans would soon arrive. Likely to instigate a fight between the King and Ankra...
For a moment, anger surged within Ankra, but he was still in the presence of the King of Humans. While he suppressed his emotions and bowed his head, the King of Humans replied.
“Hm? What is it?”
“You must kill him.”
A chilling sensation pierced Ankra's body.
Fear? It was different from that. It wasn't the cry of a defeated foe who could only taunt with his mouth, nor was it a blast of intense killing intent.
It was as if she were reading a predetermined fact. A suffocating feeling, as if her declaration itself would become reality... as if it were blocking all paths forward except death. It seized Ankra's throat and would not let go.
Hearing the Prophet's words, the girl tilted her head.
“Kill him? Me? Him? Why?”
“Because it is necessary to set things right, my King. He, who eats people, is a beast of sin that has filled this great forest with screams and pain. Because he quenches his thirst with human blood and fills his belly with human flesh, and because he establishes and spreads his norms through that sin. His existence is a harm. His very breath is a sin. For humans to live as humans, beasts like him must be made to have never existed.”
A negation that went beyond contempt and hatred. An attempt to eliminate him from every branch of the past, present, and future.
Ankra broke out in a cold sweat.
“But he's human, too.”
“That is why he must be excised. If he were not human, we could simply make him an enemy. As an enemy, he would be a challenge to overcome, a trial to surmount. But he is human... a kinsman, though I hate to admit it. That alone makes his sin our own, and it will weigh us down and stain us.”
The girl answered, picking her ear as if she wasn't interested.
“Sin? What's that? Is it something you can eat? I've never seen it.”
“My King. Our beautiful and violent King. Humans can see the unseen. We look up and learn. We see what is higher, we envy and admire them, and we wish to become like them. That is why we need a shining star. We need a North Star to show us the way. We must erase that dark and vulgar thing, and establish righteousness and justice to lead everyone.”
“Really? Then you kill him. You can do that, can't you?”
The King of Humans spoke nonchalantly and turned away. Without any lingering attachment, without the slightest interest in Ankra's fate, the girl gave a great yawn and walked away.
The Prophet watched her retreating back with a somewhat sorrowful and tragic gaze.
“I cannot be the one. My King, you are the King of Humans. You must act and show them yourself. That is the only way for humanity to change... My own meager and foolish actions cannot become a shining star. They cannot become the path forward for all...”
He didn't understand what they were saying. But he knew they were discussing his fate. Ankra felt bewildered and enraged that his destiny was being decided by a conversation between two people who had nothing to do with him.
The girl replied to the Prophet without much thought.
“Don't worry about it! Just do what you want to do!”
Raising a clenched fist as if cheering her on, the girl shouted brightly. But to the Prophet, it seemed like a desperate conclusion.
“Ah...”
Targeting the deeply sighing Prophet, Ankra slowly rose to his feet. His body was stained with blood, but having accumulated power by devouring thousands, it had already regenerated.
“You tricked me. The King of Humans had no interest in me at all!”
“That is because my King respects humans. In other words, it could be called neglect... but that is the greatest respect such an absolute being can show to the weak. Should I be happy? Or should I be sad?”
“But I survived! You failed. I just have to eat again to regain the power I lost today!”
Ankra extended his claws. The sharp, hard claws, as strong as any beast's, gave off a cold glint. Ankra charged toward the defenseless Prophet.
“I'll eat you first!”
The Prophet was an acquaintance of the King of Humans. But the King would not stop this death for that reason. With that conviction, Ankra targeted the prey before him to satisfy his hunger.
Just then, a sharp line of killing intent pierced him. Feeling the danger, Ankra twisted his waist with surprising flexibility to block the blade rushing toward his neck.
Sparks flew as steel and claw scraped against each other. Ankra was shocked by the heavy weight pressing down on him. The female warrior, having failed her surprise attack, clicked her tongue and kicked him. Baaam. With a loud impact, Ankra's body was pushed back.
“How dare you lay a hand on our priestess?”
She was a warrior with the agile body and impression of a black panther. Her hair was tied back tightly so as not to be a hindrance, and she carried a quiver on her back. Daggers and knives were strapped to her waist and thigh, ready to be drawn at any moment.
A well-trained body. She was surely a formidable warrior. However, the impact Ankra felt on his hand was clearly strange. It wasn't the kind of power or weight that should come from a body like that.
Moreover, for a blade to dig into his claws, which could fell trees—Ankra was astonished by its sharpness.
The warrior pointed two daggers at Ankra and said.
“Priestess. I just have to cut him to pieces until he dies, right?”
“Agartha. Be careful. 'That thing' won't die just from being cut. To kill 'that thing,' which has absorbed the life force of tens of thousands, you currently need to make it stop breathing two hundred and ninety times.”
“Two hundred and ninety?”
“Originally, you would have had to kill it over a thousand times. If the King hadn't intervened, we would have collapsed from exhaustion first.”
The Prophet spoke of the future calmly, but two hundred and ninety was still a large number. After a rough count, Agartha shook her head and raised her daggers again.
“Anyway, I just have to keep cutting, right?”
“Yes, Agartha. Make it die.”
“As you command. I will make the priestess's future a reality.”
And Agartha charged, her two daggers a dizzying blur.
Shimmering motes of light fell from the sky. Agartha's daggers were fast, dazzling, and sharp. But even more than that, the formless energy covering the blades sought Ankra's life with terrifying purpose.
Spurt. Blood sprayed from Ankra's neck and chest where he failed to dodge the blades. Agartha's daggers had succeeded in taking Ankra's life.
If only for a moment.
“You bitch...!”
Ankra changed his strategy. Until now, he had instinctively dodged, but there was no need. He had confirmed that he wouldn't die even if struck by the light-wreathed swords; now it was time to give flesh to take bone.
With the blades still in his body, Ankra shot out both arms. In the brief moment Agartha paused after embedding her daggers, Ankra seized her wrists. In terms of raw strength, Ankra easily overpowered her. Ignoring her struggles to break free, Ankra twisted her wrists with even more force. Agartha's expression contorted in pain.
Just then, a slash like a beam of light fell upon Ankra's arms. The swift, light-wreathed sword cut through Ankra's arms and bones, and as the strength drained from them, Ankra's body lost its balance and pitched forward.
Agartha's face brightened.
“Grandiomor!”
“I told you not to let your guard down, didn't I? Even with Qi, your opponent is the king of this jungle, said to have hunted even elephants. You should have been more careful until we arrived.”
He was a handsome man with a gentle impression. He seemed soft enough to embrace the world, yet one could glimpse a firm core within; he was clearly beautiful both inside and out. Even Agartha, who was used to men, blushed for a moment.
The hero, Grandiomor. A handsome man with righteous conduct and an even more righteous face. His swordsmanship was also outstanding, and he had been chosen as one of the King's warriors. He, too, had now arrived, following the Prophet.
Ankra's hands, though severed from their owner, were still twitching and crushing her arms. Grandiomor used all his strength to pry the fingers off one by one and toss them away. Ankra's hands twitched on their own before disappearing somewhere into the undergrowth.
“Kuaaak! You pieces of prey!”
But Ankra paid it no mind. As he drew upon his power, flesh bulged and surged from the severed stumps. The newly formed arms were larger and thicker than before, as if several arms had been woven together.
“I used ten at once! Let's see you handle this!”
The power he only used when wrestling with elephants, his secret art of rapidly consuming the lives he had devoured to gain incredible strength. The grotesquely thick arm aimed for both Grandiomor and Agartha at once.
And it collided with a large shadow that suddenly charged forward. A blade, longer and larger than a person, engulfed Ankra. The clash of power shook the air.
“Hnnnnngh!”
The large man put his back into it and swung the blade. After a brief struggle, Ankra couldn't handle the man's strength and was sent flying. He flew far into the distance, felling a couple of trees before finally stopping.
Agartha said irritably.
“Hangpae! You're late!”
“You two were just fast.”
The man, who had muttered briefly, slung the blade over his shoulder. Hangpae, the strongest human on earth. The pinnacle of physical strength, whose pure power was said to be unmatched by anyone save the King of Humans. He showed no sign of exertion even after sending the king of the jungle flying.
It wasn't just because he was strong. Even if he was born strong, he couldn't be stronger than Ankra, who had devoured tens of thousands of humans.
“Qi. A pinnacle that I found across all the futures I have been to, one that humans can attain without the interference of a 'Divine.' The limit of what a human can achieve through training.”
The Prophet stood before them all, reciting sorrowfully.
“Even that could not reach the current pinnacle of sin. Our power is, yes, weak. Against the shadow of sin that has overturned the world. Against the loopholes and the hell of the apostles that humanity has neglected. If we fight fairly, we will lose.”
Hangpae, who had been listening quietly, flared up.
“Hey. Princess. Are you saying I'm weaker than that thing?”
“Don't argue, Hangpae! That's a prophecy. Just as the priestess said, if we had fought as we were, we would have lost. Whether from exhaustion or carelessness!”
“That would be you. Not me.”
“What?! Are you looking down on me just because I let my guard down for a second?”
“Both of you, stop fighting. You know the best outcome is for the King to execute that demon herself. The Saintess was just pursuing a good outcome.”
While the three warriors argued, Ankra twitched, dripping blood. Having exhausted his life force fighting the King of Humans, he couldn't fight them now.
He had to escape. To think he was fleeing not from the King, but from the King's warriors. If this news spread through the jungle, he would be mocked... but survival came first.
Fortunately, they wouldn't be that fast on their feet. Ankra straightened his knees in an instant and kicked off the ground on all fours. He bolted toward a direction where he felt no presence.
Watching Ankra flee like an insect, the three warriors spoke calmly.
“He's running.”
“Seems he values his life. It's useless, though.”
“This, too, must have been in the princess's future.”
And then Ankra collided face-first with someone who had appeared out of nowhere. The flimsy-looking man's eyes widened in surprise upon encountering Ankra. It was so unexpected that neither had time to dodge. They collided head-on and were sent flying in opposite directions.
“Uwaaah! That hurts!”
“Kugh!”
To think they had an ambush prepared. Coming to his senses, Ankra reflexively attacked the pursuer. If he retreated, he could escape; if he fought, he would crush him. He couldn't run backward, so it was an unavoidable choice.
But the choice the man before him made was none of the above.
“Huh? Uwaaaaaah!”
He saw Ankra, got scared, and started rolling around on the ground. Ankra, not expecting his opponent to throw himself down, got tangled up and fell over as well. Now rolling ignominiously on the ground, Ankra grabbed a vine to pull himself up.
The moment he did, something pulled taut snapped, and sharp steel stakes flew from somewhere, digging into Ankra's body.
Terrible pain followed. Ankra struggled to remove the steel stakes piercing his entire body, but the reverse-barbed stakes only tore deeper into his flesh. Worse, they wouldn't break or crush even under Ankra's grip.
How could iron be so sharp and hard? As he reeled in shock, a woman with short blonde hair wearing a hood walked out from the bushes.
“I told you to lure him, not roll around on the ground with him. You almost set off all the traps.”
“Ahaha... Well, it ended up luring him in, didn't it? That's a success, Elric.”
“What good is a good result if the process was a complete mess? There's no guarantee you could succeed the same way again.”
The man, scratching his head and laughing awkwardly, looked utterly unreliable. In contrast, the woman called Elric seemed to move with the precision of interlocking gears. Adorned with various pieces of equipment, she used pulleys and mechanisms to pull on a rope. Ankra was dragged along, feeling a pain like his body was being torn apart.
The man shouted to the Prophet.
“We got him! El, over here!”
And so, the Prophet and the King's warriors approached the incapacitated Ankra. Sensing his death, Ankra panted and asked why they were trying to kill him. Why did they hate him when they had never even met?
In response, the Prophet said.
“He devours a thousand people every year. Not because he is hungry, nor because it would be a waste to throw them away. Simply because it forces the surrounding tribes to expend their energy producing children to offer as sacrifices. It was an atrocity committed only once, long ago, in a war that decided the fate of his tribe. But he came to regard it as a tradition and repeated the horrific act every year.”
Ankra shouted at the Prophet, filled with rage. Had she lured him into a trap? Had she made him challenge the King of Humans?
“As a result of failing to break that chain of sin, the sin eventually came to reign with the greatest power. It grew so strong that it could not have been severed had the King not come... and it spread even more evil.”
Next, he tried to persuade them. The King of Humans had forgiven him and let him live, so they should too.
“He even cuts open the bellies of old women who can no longer bear children and stuffs dead infants inside to disguise them as pregnant... because a pregnant woman counts as two. These evil acts, using humans to falsify human numbers, are born and spread solely because of him.”
Finally, he begged for forgiveness. He pleaded for them to spare his life, promising he would never do it again. Just as he had with the King of Humans.
“It must not exist. We cannot turn away with the excuse that we did not know. Ignorance and savagery cannot be reasons for this horrific sin. This is sin itself, a taboo. To ensure this is never done again... no, it must be erased entirely. It must be buried in the earth and grass so that no one can ever recall it.”
But they were not the King of Humans.
The Prophet let out a terrible sorrow, facing Ankra with an emotion that transcended contempt.
“'This' does not exist in the future I will draw.”
The Prophet raised two fingers before her eyes, blocking Ankra from her sight. Crackle, crackle. Everything surrounding him began to distort and disappear.
Ankra was being negated from the very root of his existence. All causality connected to him was being severed. Traces would remain, but they would not remain as fact. He would be forgotten in the depths of old memories.
For the Saintess of Origin would bless all things.
As he was buried in the earth, Ankra felt a distant despair.
There were too many gods in the world.
Not fakes like him, but real gods.