Chapter 563: A Tale of the Past, Humans and Sin - Finale
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 563: A Tale of the Past, Humans and Sin - Finale
But Ankra survived.
How was that possible? Even Ankra didn't know. In truth, he was in no state to think. He had been torn to shreds, left to wander the vast jungle.
Every year, he devoured a thousand people, and the number he killed exceeded ten thousand. Every year, he scattered his overflowing life force as if to flaunt it. The ragged soldiers of the Anka tribe consumed his flesh and blood, which they treated as sacred relics.
Though he had never been conscious of it, Ankra was a master of black magic, and he had already scattered his abundant life force throughout the jungle. Though defeated, his power was like that of a god.
His tenacious life force clung to existence even as his being was torn asunder... until one day, he opened his eyes as if waking from a long sleep.
He was parasitizing a member of a certain barbarian tribe in the jungle.
Having lost his body and scattered most of his power, he had no strength left. He lacked even the power to usurp the body, merely borrowing it to maintain his consciousness. Grateful just to exist, he survived as a hidden parasite.
But a problem arose. His host was on the verge of death.
The reason was laughably mundane. While pushing through the undergrowth, the man had been scratched all over by thorn bushes. Bleeding profusely, the host simply waited for death.
In the jungle, death was so common it could come for any reason: blood loss, infection, or a beast drawn by the scent of blood. It was too common to even be a story.
For him, however, the situation was dire.
If the host died, so would he. He had just regained consciousness; he couldn't just disappear again, leaving only his power to wander aimlessly. That could not happen. He had to survive. He didn't know why, but an overwhelming desire to live was all that remained to move him.
Seizing the opportunity as his host weakened, he took control of a part of the man's body and restored it with his power. Recovered from a fatal wound, the host fell to his knees at the unexpected miracle, calling out to the great spirits, the sprites of nature, and Mother Earth.
It was the moment a mere parasite became a god. His will was twisted into a divine will, moving the host. Although he didn't possess the dominion or the will to completely control the host, he felt no need to. The host accepted his intentions as divine revelations and obeyed.
Borrowing the host's strength, he gathered the other fragments of himself scattered throughout the jungle. The fruit of trees that had grown by feeding on his scattered flesh. Shards that had flowed into the bodies of other animals. Bones that still remained. Driven solely by the will to survive, he sought out and collected his scattered remains from every corner of the jungle.
He gathered, and gathered, and gathered some more. He cut and pasted, accumulating power until, finally…
Ankra was resurrected, leaping across centuries.
When he opened his eyes, he was being called a god, and the humans who received his power had become undying. Finally having a physical form again, he fashioned a new body for himself by gathering the bodies of his Kindred.
That was the true nature of the Sacrificial Vessel.
Having read the entire past of the man called a god, I was less pleased and more bewildered by the unexpected information.
I possess the ability to read minds, which I use to read a person's present. While I can read an individual's past, I have to learn about bygone history or grand-scale events from books, just like any other person.
A power befitting the Beast Kings. Those who claim to represent an entire species don't concern themselves with a past that has died and vanished.
In any case, having lost my power due to a certain incident, I've had few opportunities to learn about that forgotten past... But by reading Ankra, I've obtained a significant amount of information. About the Five Sovereigns, the Oracle, and even the past King of Humans.
This is far more useful than I thought. I never expected an opportunity like this.
While I was organizing the information I'd read, the priestesses of the Sacrificial Vessel were bewildered by my revelation.
"Ankra? But... he is supposed to be an ancient, evil ruler from the oral traditions of this land."
"What blasphemy are you spouting at the Sacrificial Vessel!"
Then, the Sacrificial Vessel raised a hand. The patchwork of flesh moved bizarrely, each piece with a different strength and speed. As if forcibly holding together a body that threatened to explode and scatter, the Sacrificial Vessel gestured with a movement that felt overwhelmingly powerful despite its instability.
[This god does not devour humans. I only gather and nurture them.]
And the Sacrificial Vessel rose to his feet. Though his body was unbalanced, it somehow managed to find its equilibrium.
[This god does not rule the jungle. I only protect and watch over it.]
He was about three meters tall, and even wider. The intimidating pressure from the scars and stitches covering his body was terrifying.
[This god is not Ankra. With his flesh scattered upon the earth and his blood seeped into the river, the one called Ankra no longer exists. This god is only the Sacrificial Vessel of the Undying.]
The Sacrificial Vessel spoke in a dignified voice.
Of course, he had a point. Having experienced death, having actually died and been resurrected, and having barely survived by assembling the bodies of others, the Sacrificial Vessel was different from who he once was.
But that doesn't mean his past as Ankra just disappears. Besides, I'm reading your thoughts plain as day. Who do you think you're fooling?
"You just don't act like him now. But the source of your power and black magic is still Ankra's, isn't it?"
[You who came from beyond the plains, this god has spoken to you directly. Do you dare to doubt me?]
So he's determined to deny it. It's even a lie with a reason behind it. Ankra has a history of being defeated by the King of Humans and the Saintess of Origin. If someone suddenly starts questioning his identity, he has no choice but to deflect.
I was caught in a bit of a dilemma. Right now, I had a way to expose his lies and make him confess the truth. A very certain way.
The problem was whether I should. To reveal his identity, I would have to reveal my own. And that could be dangerous.
Hmm. What to do? Should I just let it go? Or should we try to get along?
[Begone at once. If you do not leave this place immediately, I will make you a part of this god's body.]
"Oh, really? Are you sure it's okay for me to just leave?"
[What did you say?]
"Aren't you curious? How I found out your identity, how I recognized you the moment I saw you."
[That is a trivial matter to this god.]
"I doubt that. You don't know who might come looking for you next. Wouldn't it be better to hear it from me, who came with goodwill and curiosity?"
[...]
Ah, screw it. It's not much of a secret anymore, is it? I'll just say it.
I confessed boldly before the Sacrificial Vessel.
"I am the King of Humans. The same king who brought an axe down on your head."
Oh, this was worth the risk.
An axe, the King of Humans. The keywords were too specific to disbelieve. The memory of being defeated by the King of Humans in that distant past remained only with the Sacrificial Vessel. It wasn't something to boast about, nor was it recorded in history. It was, truly, a lost past.
If a being existed who could speak of that memory, it could only be one of two people: the Sacrificial Vessel or the King of Humans.
And since I'm not the Sacrificial Vessel, I must be the King of Humans.
[Impossible!]
At the mention of that distant past, the Sacrificial Vessel reacted violently. The face that had maintained its dignity, however grotesque, contorted without restraint.
[Why! Why have you come for this god now!]
And with that, the priestesses' faces began to move erratically. The Sacrificial Vessel's body—or more accurately, the bodies offered to him—began to synchronize with his emotions. The priestesses, bewildered by feelings that were not their own, looked toward their god.
The Sacrificial Vessel, overcome with fear and rage, cried out.
[Since becoming a god, I have guided humans! I cared for them instead of oppressing them, saved them instead of killing them, and fed them instead of feeding on them! I have done everything for them, so why do you persecute this god!]
"Persecute? I don't think I've ever persecuted you."
[Why have you come now? This god has not challenged you! I have not eaten or killed humans! I built my altar with this god's own flesh and blood instead of bones! In this tiny patch of land, I have only sustained this body by sharing myself with my Kindred!]
The Undying were the limbs of the Sacrificial Vessel, a part of his colossal body. Just as one's hands might clench and eyelids twitch when agitated, the priestesses received the Sacrificial Vessel's emotions and grew confused.
'The Sacrificial Vessel is...'
'Afraid?'
Inferiority, defeat, despair, rage. And beneath it all, a subtle terror writhed like a vortex. The Sacrificial Vessel, half-cowering and half-swelling, shouted.
[With this power, I have only held onto the lifelines of these weak subjects! So why, whyyy have you come again!]
This was too successful. I didn't expect such a violent reaction. Should I try to calm him down a bit?
"Uh, well. Just so you know, my coming here was purely a coincidence. I was just passing by, ran into a familiar face, and helped them out for a bit."
[The right arm?]
"That's right. I didn't come here with any ill intent."
To be precise, the Saintess's blessing led me here, and the ancient evil she wanted me to deal with is probably this Sacrificial Vessel. But I have no intention of killing him. That's why I came without the Regressor.
"And I only spoke to you to say hello. There's almost no one left who remembers the King of Humans from that era."
[To say hello? Impossible.]
"It's true. The King of Humans who split your head in the past didn't come looking for you for any particular reason, did he? You were openly plotting treason, so he just granted your wish."
Despite my nonchalant remark, the Sacrificial Vessel did not let down his guard.
[I have plotted nothing this time!]
"I know. You've been living quietly, holding your breath, ever since you were defeated by the King of Humans. I don't have any plans to do anything to you, either."
My goal was your memories, and now that I've read them, I have no further business here. I could have just left quietly.
But that felt like a bit of a waste.
"—And I don't have the power to do so anymore."
[...What?]
Ankra, who once held the ambition to overthrow the King of Humans and cover the world, had a change of heart after dying once and was now living quietly, reigning as the god of a small village. Well, this sort of thing is quite common. Everyone experiences giving up on their dreams after hitting a harsh reality.
I think that's fine, too.
But there's something I'm a little curious about.
"What do you mean, 'what'? I'm talking about power. Even a being like you couldn't recognize me at first, could you? If I were the King of Humans with my true power, you would have known the instant you saw me."
The King of Humans is the embodiment of the concept of the species. Even in the distant past, he was so powerful that he had no equal on earth. With that much power, he should have been recognizable on sight.
But now, I'm just an empty husk with no presence. An ordinary human that even the Sacrificial Vessel couldn't recognize at first glance. The Sacrificial Vessel, sensing the power emanating from me, replied slowly.
[...What happened to you?]
"It's similar to what happened to you. I, too, was betrayed by the Oracle and those five. They stole my power and made me disappear. What I am now is a shell. I managed to come back somehow, but compared to then, my life is like that of an insect."
In the past, he was clearly evil. But now, terrified and reigning as a god, it's hard to call him absolutely evil. He may sustain himself with the flesh of his Kindred, but he promises them immortality and continuously revives them. Judging by his actions alone, wouldn't that make him a benevolent god? Or is he an evil god, parasitizing their bodies with the power he gained from devouring humans?
Whether the Sacrificial Vessel is an evil god or a good one, whether he was rehabilitated after having his head split by an axe or is just lying low out of fear—no one knows. Not even I, who can read minds.
You can't know until the situation arises. If you don't know, you can't judge. If you want to judge, you must know.
"It seems you've recovered a fair amount of your power. Hah, as for me, I have no way to get mine back."
[...Does that mean the Oracle betrayed you as well?]
"Yes. It seems I did something to displease them. They stabbed me, butchered me, and tore my power to pieces to share among themselves. My powerful and glorious days are nothing but the past, and now I'm just a shell on the run."
[The King of Humans, on the run. From whom?]
"The Oracle's successors. I don't know if you've heard of the Sanctum. Hah. What did I ever do to deserve living such a pathetic life? They could have just taken my power, but they wanted more."
As I muttered to myself in lament, I felt a faint tremor from the Sacrificial Vessel.
Fear, shame, rage, helplessness, defeat. But an overwhelming despair, the feeling that he could never win, was crushing him. That was why the Sacrificial Vessel had holed himself up in this dark cave, waking intermittently and peeking at the outside world only in very limited ways through his Kindred.
Fearing that the King of Humans might come for him, or that the Oracle might find him. Like an insect that had dug a hole and hidden itself in fear.
But the words I whispered stirred a desire deep within him. The Sacrificial Vessel's demeanor grew cold as he spoke.
[...Then. If I just devour you... this god will no longer have to live in fear.]
"Huh? What are you talking about all of a sudden?"
The Sacrificial Vessel pointed a finger at me and said.
[You who are this god's Kindred. Kill him.]