The End's Executor
Tsking my tongue, I rummaged through my bosom as if searching for something.
"Open your yap a bit."
"Why?"
"Why? To dump some trash, obviously."
At my words, the Secret Book finally lost its temper.
"You bastard! I won't let this slide! How dare you treat this noble body like a trash bin!"
The Secret Book bounced around in fury, but what could it do? I coolly ignored it until it wore itself out. Listeners never tire. It's the talker who does.
"Grrr! Just you wait, you punk. When Lord Harpocrates returns, I'll report every single one of your crimes!"
I picked at my ear and gave a half-hearted reply.
"Go ahead. Your god's off in America."
"What? America? What's that? Don't tell me you know where Lord Harpocrates is?!"
Aigoo, shoulda kept my mouth shut...
Anyway, Python's condition looked plenty stable even to me, someone clueless about magic. As long as she was on this mountain, her recovery powers were apparently insane. She'd wake up on her own if I left her be. In the meantime, time to handle my business.
"I'll give you the giant. Proceed with the offering ritual."
"You're really giving up that fragment of divinity?"
The Secret Book pressed again, but I shook my head.
"It's something Python's guarding with her life. Stab my benefactor in the back? Even a scumbag like me draws the line there. If she hadn't helped, Thematos would've already gobbled me up. That giant looked like he could digest anything—hell, I might've been out as shit in half a day."
Having received such a huge favor, betraying Python was out of the question.
"But."
"But?"
"I'll ask about that fragment of divinity. Gotta gather whatever info I can. The Burning Nameless One's gonna be key on this journey ahead. If I can snag it, I will."
I'm not immune to that divine fragment either. Right now, I desperately needed power. Of all people, I'd pissed off Artemis, one of Olympus's Twelve Gods. Nightmares were probably next on the menu.
"Not a total idiot, then."
"Shut it."
We bickered as we searched for a spot to perform the offering ritual.
"Peleus, don't go too far. This cave's crawling with dangers."
"Got it. Sticking to the range Python mentioned."
Soon enough, we found a suitable clearing. With no one around to eavesdrop, the Secret Book finally spoke up directly.
"Alright, let's spit the bastard out here."
The lock disengaged, and the book flipped open. Long fangs and a bundle of tentacle-like tongues burst forth, dripping with viscous saliva reeking of poison.
"Ugh."
My face scrunched up involuntarily. What a repulsive thing.
"Guweeeek!"
With a vile noise assaulting my ears, the Secret Book's gaping maw vomited out the cannibal giant Thematos. It was like a drunk heaving up every last snack from the night before—a spectacular spew.
Splat!
The meaty lump hit the ground, still twitching. What tenacious vitality. At a time like this, maybe that was a curse.
Schlurp, schlurp.
Foul slime mixed with blood and saliva oozed from Thematos's mouth like sludge.
"Now, perform the offering, Peleus. I'll explain the procedure in detail."
I was about to start when something occurred to me, and I raised a hand.
"Hold up."
"What now, you pest?"
"Pest or not, you skipped something way more important than the ritual!"
"What? What's that?"
This dense idiot. I pounded my chest in frustration.
"The End's Executor! The End's Executor! You still haven't told me exactly what that is. What I gotta do, what my duties are— that's the most crucial part!"
At my point, the Secret Book finally responded in a dazed tone.
"Oh, right... Yeah."
Thinking back, things had been too hectic. Fleeing from Cycnus, Apollo's son, regressing in a panic—I'd barely had a moment to breathe. Now we could finally talk properly. Time to nail this down.
"Offering ritual? When I don't even know my damn job!"
"Tch..."
Conceding my point, the Secret Book eyed the cannibal giant hungrily, retracting its tentacles and floating over to hover in front of me.
"Fine. Let me explain the End's Executor."
Finally, the real deal behind all this ordeal. Took long enough.
I nodded, and the Secret Book began calmly.
"The mission and duty of the End's Executor is simple. As the name implies: execute the end of the world."
"Hah?"
I'd half-guessed as much, but hearing it outright was absurdly grandiose. Felt like I'd become some third-rate villain dreaming of world destruction.
"'Hah'? You punk! Do you grasp how monumental this duty is, reacting like that?!"
I scratched the back of my head and replied nonchalantly.
"So why destroy the world?"
"As I said before, the end our cult pursues isn't humanity's end. It's the gods'."
Right. The High Priest had mentioned that. Humans would suffer big-time but ultimately survive. The end meant the gods' world ending.
Still, one question nagged.
"Does it have to be the gods who face the end?"
This Olympian world wasn't half bad. Maybe even better than my old Earth. Sinners got thunderbolted on the spot. Sure, there were rotten gods, but it had its own order.
"Why force an end? Can't we just keep things as they are?"
"Fool. The end is inevitable. It's decreed. The world's fate."
"Hm. If it's unavoidable, why not overcome it with the gods? They've got the power."
Being the End's Executor sounded like dooming the gods and saving humans only. But if some unstoppable apocalypse loomed, wouldn't teaming up make sense? Like a king and his people bickering while invaders approached. What happens then?
"We all perish?"
I voiced my biggest worry. Overpowering those mighty gods to save humans alone? This was myth-world—gods everywhere. And the Executor? Just me. Game over, honestly.
I laid it out, but the Secret Book, listening silently, denied it.
"It won't go down like that. Sure, some gods might side with humans. Like that sweet Hestia you fawn over."
"...As expected of Lady Hestia."
The one Olympian I fanboyed over. Secret from Lord Harpocrates, but I'd snuck offerings to the virgin goddess's temple.
"But that's a tiny minority. At the end, gods won't ally with humans. They'll try to wipe you out."
The radiant heavenly Olympus slaughtering humans? Shocking.
"Why...?"
"Simple. At the end, the world's truth will be revealed."
"The world's truth?"
"Yes. Gods will never let humans know it. They'd rather exterminate you all and create new humans than let that secret slip."
Chills. After a decade here, I'd gotten complacent. Thinking Olympians protected us. But they'd cull us for their own sake?
"We're like pigs in a slaughterhouse..."
"Kekeke. Nice analogy. Eyes finally opening, Peleus?"
Then it hit me.
"Hey."
"Hm?"
"This isn't the first time, right? It's happened over and over."
Stories from the golden archives about human creation flashed back.
"Hoo..."
The Secret Book sounded impressed.
"As I recall, gods first made humans from gold. The Golden Race were mortals but lived in divine prosperity. Records call it humanity's Golden Age."
"Go on."
"When the Golden Age ended, gods made the Silver Race from silver. Noble, but lesser than their predecessors. They rose and fell repeatedly before vanishing. Third, the Bronze Race from bronze—brutal warriors who perished in war. Now, gods forged the Iron Race from iron. That's us."
The current humans were the Iron Race.
I raised a doubt.
"If Iron came after Bronze, who's to say Stone isn't next?"
"So? What's your point, Peleus?"
"Maybe the end has cycled through this world multiple times. Records blame human greed and war, but I doubt it. Like you said—maybe gods wipe humans and remake them at each end."
Plus, divine power shifted too. Uranus ruled the heavens, overthrown by son Cronus. Cronus fell to Zeus, birthing Olympus. Massive upheavals at each "end."
I explained, tying it to why Apollo coveted the Secret Book.
"The High Priest said Apollo targets you to prepare for the end. It records post-end events, so he'd want foreknowledge. Yeah, puzzle pieces fitting now."
Stroking my chin and nodding, the Secret Book let out a sinister chuckle.
"Kuhuhuhu... Excellent insight. Worthy of Lord Harpocrates's chosen human. Indeed, the end has repeated many times in this world. But since gods persist, no true completion."
Fake ends left gods intact—just new cycles.
Anyway, the end was pivotal for humans and gods alike.
"Can you tell me what happened at past ends?"
Cronus castrated Uranus, swallowed kids Hades, Poseidon, Hestia, Demeter, Hera. Zeus overthrew him, freed siblings. Myths and legends, but specifics could help.
"Not even sure Cronus literally ate them. Maybe metaphorical."
"Could be. But I can't reveal that."
"Why?"
"It's one of this world's most fundamental secrets. Requires a fitting price. That Titan descendant there? Not even close. In the Mythic Age, when gods and giants shook the heavens, he was mere chaff."
Compared to ancient god-giant wars, Thematos was nothing.
"Accessing world secrets ain't easy, huh... Sigh."
What massive secret tied Uranus, Cronus, Zeus's reigns? Why do myths show only fragments?
Questions piled up, but one answer.
"Unveiling it all—that's the End's Executor's duty."
The Secret Book agreed.
"Yes. To save humanity, you must complete the end."
Gold, Silver, Bronze Races gone. Iron Race now. To protect us, gods must vanish with true end's completion.
What a grand goal.
Thus, freebie felt off.
"Got it. But hey."
"Hm? What, Peleus?"
"What do I get for completing the end?"
"What?"
Catchin' it off-guard with such a mercenary question.
"Saving the world is great. But if I score something too, that's even better, right?"
Heroes in tales ignored gold and women. Did I have to? Hell no—I loved that stuff.