Chapter 596: A Tale of the Past. The Old Testament - 3
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 596: A Tale of the Past. The Old Testament - 3
Monsters lived in the four frontiers of the continent.
Unlike the central lands where the King of Humans roamed, these four monsters of the frontiers were barbaric and violent. They cruelly hunted and devoured their fellow humans. In the monsters’ domains, people suffered and trembled in fear, and those who could bear it no longer and tried to flee were often killed.
At that time, the King's nation was gradually expanding its borders. Humans who were lucky enough to escape the monsters' domains heard of the King of Humans and, clinging to a sliver of hope, came to find them. They decried the cruelty and horror of the four monsters, unleashing their pent-up fury.
And 'Noona' replied curtly.
“Me? Why?”
Before the new era, it was a time when people fought and killed one another without hesitation. Anyone outside one's own tribe was considered no different from a wild beast, and if they were to be killed, it was better to annihilate them completely.
Conflicts had lessened as society transitioned to agriculture and humans became more territorial, but such cruel rationality still lingered in the hearts of humanity.
The autumn of humanity had arrived, and with the nation prospering, the winds of change were beginning to blow. But they had not yet fully permeated the people's hearts.
“They haven't done anything to me. They haven't tried to carry me off, and they haven't attacked my people. I don't even know who they are. Why should I go and kill them?”
'Noona' asked out of pure curiosity. The King's warriors, too, answered with reluctance.
“No, Your Majesty. You are right.”
“There is no reason for Your Majesty to intervene in such a trivial dispute.”
“Besides… the frontiers are too far away.”
Though the King of Humans was said to wander the world, they did so only as their mood dictated. If the weather was too hot, they would pitch a tent by a river and pass the time bathing. If it was too cold, they would bundle up and warm themselves languidly by a bonfire.
If they came upon a village, they might linger for a time, offering teachings to those who sought them out. The places where they stayed the longest became the foundation of the 'nation'.
The King of Humans was like a moving capital. Though the King's warriors followed them, they too had come from the 'nation's' principal villages to serve their monarch. To them, the frontiers were a distant and unfamiliar land.
“The journey is well over a thousand leagues. Even traveling light, it would take a year. And who knows what fierce and terrifying beasts inhabit that strange land? Though it is impossible for Your Majesty to be defeated, if those monsters are as powerful as the rumors claim, there is no reason to fight them.”
To even consider sending the King of Humans—'Noona', who had ushered in the most brilliant of ages—to such a place was unthinkable. The King's warriors, who had already lost their previous king to the tigers of the mountains, vehemently opposed the idea.
“Your Majesty, I implore you to reconsider. Your humble servant begs you.”
Even Nevida, who revered 'Noona's' will, came forward to voice her sincere opposition. It seemed the matter would be settled then and there.
“You must punish them.”
But a Lorekeeper stepped forward and pleaded with 'Noona' to punish the monsters.
“Those four monsters are not beasts. They are all human. They are devils in human form who prey upon, indulge in, and violate other humans.”
Kneeling before 'Noona', the Lorekeeper produced four dark, crimson scrolls—ominous, forbidden scrolls inscribed with the lore of the frontier monsters. The Lorekeeper then began to recite their tales.
“Ankra, the Eater of a Thousand. He devours a thousand people a year and hunts more than twice that number. To him, humans are mere livestock—food to fill the bellies of himself and his followers, ingredients for his gluttonous consumption of life. This Anathema of Gluttony, which consumes all, will one day look beyond the jungle and covet these lands.”
In the southeast of the continent, a monster lived in the endless jungle, preying on humans: Ankra, the Eater of a Thousand.
“The demonic beast, Bahmeth. Master of the Black Water. As the mother of monsters, she manipulates black mud teeming with life to birth creatures that have never before existed. When the dismembered bodies of humans and beasts are thrown into her black spawning pools, monstrous hybrids are born. This Anathema of Grafting, which splices life together, will one day displace all natural creatures and overrun the world.”
In the southwest of the continent, in a land of black water beyond the desert, was the clay creator who mixed the remains of the living to create monsters: the demonic beast, Bahmeth.
“Jotun, King of the Giants. He lives on a snowy mountain, where he violates hundreds of women. Of the children born, he kills all but the largest and healthiest. Having selectively bred only the finest stock for hundreds of years, his people are now far larger and stronger, true to their giant nature. This Anathema of Splicing will seek to trample and violate all humans but themselves.”
In the northeast of the continent, a tribe of giants left massive footprints on the snowy mountains as they abducted people. Their chieftain was Jotun.
“…And then there is the place where I first opened my eyes. On that mountain, madmen distort the world to their whims and spread their twisted ideology. The Anathema of Heresy from that place will delude our minds like a demon.”
In the northwest of the continent, on the lonely Mount Yullim, was the leader of a mad cult, said to have burned out his own eyes in worship of the heavens: Gwangmyeongcheonjon Be-el.
Having recited all four tales, the Lorekeeper pleaded, her face a mask of sorrow and pity.
“Your Majesty, they are exceedingly dangerous and harmful. If these demons, who perpetuate a cycle of sin, are allowed to reign with their immense power, humanity will be slowly corrupted, like paper stained by the inkstone it rests beside. They will lead us down the wrong path. Devouring others will become common sense, boasting of the number eaten will become a virtue, and the weak will be reduced to livestock, their lives an endless chorus of agonized groans.”
A cold wind rose. The Lorekeeper's cry was desperate, yet it stood alone. A dry, cool gust from the autumn of humanity swept through the air.
“Please, take pity on the plight of the wronged, who have suffered until their feet blistered, their hearts burst, and they coughed up blood. In Your Majesty's name, I beg you to punish all such Anathemas.”
Who dared to give an order to the King? To demand a journey of over a thousand leagues and ask her to behead her own people?
Who dared to treat the King of Humans as a mere mercenary?
A bitter wind blew, heralding the coming of winter. A biting gale that could tear the skin from bone swirled within the tent, thick with the promise of violence.
The King's warriors moved forward. The other Lorekeepers moved to block them. The tension was a taut string, ready to snap at any moment.
'Noona', however, remained untouched by the conflict that was about to ignite.
“I'll go take a look.”
Nevida cried out.
“Your Majesty!”
“But I'm curious,” 'Noona' said. “That person came all this way, even as they were dying, just to leave a message. They must have fled because they didn't want to die, yet they died the moment they arrived. I want to know what they were trying to say.”
What does a beast live for? It is the most foolish of questions. Life is not a means, but an end in itself. Every beast struggles to prolong its existence, even for a single moment more.
That was why the King of Humans, recalling the person who had died before her, felt a flicker of curiosity.
“I'm going!”
It was a journey that would take several years at the shortest, over a decade at the longest. Even the warriors sworn to serve the King could not easily embark on such an arduous trek across the continent. The line of those who fell behind would stretch long, like shadows at dusk.
At the mere request of a Lorekeeper, the 'nation' had lost both its King and the storyteller. Some of the warriors shot the Lorekeeper looks of pure hatred.
Meanwhile, Nevida and the other young, healthy warriors prepared to accompany 'Noona' on her long journey.
“I will serve you, Your Majesty.”
“Do as you please!” 'Noona' replied, neither refusing nor accepting their offer.
The road was long and perilous. Beasts they had never seen before darted past, and majestic landscapes they had never imagined unfolded before them, as if permitting the humans to gaze upon their splendor. The Lorekeepers filled their scrolls, trying to capture even a fraction of what they felt. Experiencing new sights, sounds, and sensations, 'Noona' and her warriors walked steadily toward the distant, snow-capped mountains.
'Noona' and the King's warriors were the most exceptional of all humans. For a time, they had the luxury of enjoying the journey itself.
That is, until they neared the giants' domain.
The moment they saw them, they understood why the giants were called giants. They were at least three heads taller than an ordinary person, with hands and feet as thick as cauldron lids, and they roamed the land carrying massive clubs.
They even dragged humans behind them, bound with thick, coarse ropes—the very image of giants from a nightmare. The moment they laid eyes on 'Noona', they began to mutter.
“Female.”
“Small.”
“Pretty.”
“Looks strong.”
“Take her.”
The giants' language was primal and strange; none of the King's warriors could understand it. But when one of the giants strode forward and abruptly reached for her, no one could fail to sense the threat.
“Males, kill.”
“Female, take.”
The King's warriors drew their weapons to face them. They were warriors of exceptional skill, but the giants were simply too large and powerful. The warriors were pushed back by their overwhelming strength.
“Hm?”
But as the giant's hand reached for her, 'Noona' simply extended her own.
“UWOOOOOH!”
The giant's wrist bent back at an impossible angle. The creature, with its cauldron-lid hands, was forced to its knees by the sheer strength of 'Noona'—a girl who barely reached its waist—and was left crawling on the ground.
The giants who had ruled the snowy mountains had been brought low by a single small girl. The King's warriors, who had been struggling against their might, now took down the remaining giants with the efficiency of seasoned hunters.
The captives who witnessed this spectacle approached, still bound, and bowed their heads low.
“Save us! Please, we can't go back with them!”
“Please, just let us live…!”
Though their language was different, the King of Humans could understand them. 'Noona' heard their pleas and replied.
“Hm? I'm not going to kill you.”
The King of Humans needed no one's acknowledgment. Whether they met another nation or another tribe, the King of Humans was their king. This was why the 'nation' could be united as one.
Her words carried weight. Instinctively sensing the truth in them, the captives relaxed and entrusted their safety to her.
While caring for the starved and exhausted captives, 'Noona' and her warriors learned of the giants' customs.
Mount Unfallen, the highest mountain in the world. The giants who made their home at its base would roam the snowy peaks in small groups, sometimes descending to the plains to raid villages. They devoured the men on the spot and abducted the women, dragging them back to their stronghold.
What awaited the women there was a life of endless childbearing. They were forced to conceive and give birth until their bodies gave out, all while being made to watch as their ‘failures’ were killed before their very eyes. They became vessels for creating both birth and death.
By repeating this cycle of birthing and discarding countless times, they kept only the largest and healthiest children. This was the secret to the giants' immense size and strength.
“My god…”
The truth was so disgusting and cruel that even the King's warriors felt the urge to retch. Even those who had been displeased with the Lorekeeper now found themselves partially agreeing with her.
The captives, sensing an opportunity, knelt before 'Noona' with a sliver of hope in their hearts.
“…Passing traveler. C-could you… could you possibly rescue the others who were taken…?”
But 'Noona's' reaction was not what they expected.
“No.”
“…Pardon?”
“They're human too, aren't they?”
To 'Noona', the King of all humankind, the atrocities of a few were nothing more than ripples on the surface of the ocean. A storm might rage, but does the level of the sea ever change?
To the King of Humans, who represented all of humanity, it was only natural for some humans to attack and capture others. She felt no reason or need to stop it.
“People abandon their newborns all the time,” she said. “If I have to kill the giants for that, then I have to kill other humans, too. Every single time they abandon a child.”
The giants were merely more extreme and cruel about it. Similar things were likely happening all over the world.
The King of Humans was special. That specialness united all of humanity, but ‘all’ included the cruel and barbaric giants.
This was a matter of essence, a fundamental truth that could not be changed as long as 'Noona' was the King of Humans.
The Lorekeeper said nothing.
Instead, she sat by the head of a captured giant and whispered something to it in the giants' own tongue.
“Kahahahahahaha! The female King of Humans has come!”
Not long after, as 'Noona' and her party were preparing to leave, hundreds of giants approached, their footsteps shaking the very earth. At their lead was Jotun, the chieftain of the giants, who stood a full head taller than the rest.
“Excellent timing! The soil to receive my seed was growing barren! If it is the King of Humans, she will surely bear a healthier fruit!”
Jotun stared at 'Noona', his eyes gleaming with a filthy, primal lust so blatant it left no room for misunderstanding.
“I shall impregnate the King and produce the ultimate fruit!”
Watching Jotun approach, 'Noona' did not back down from the challenge. She simply gripped her handaxe.
The eternal snow, which had never before lost its pure whiteness, was stained crimson.