Chapter 245: Association President Victor Poison (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 245: Association President Victor Poison (2)
The greatest challenge facing ancient humanity was survival.
They spent their days constantly worrying about how to survive today, tomorrow, next year, and the years after that.
Naked, a human being is weak.
Before wild beasts bearing sharp fangs and claws, a human was nothing more than a tasty meal. They were no match even for a chimpanzee several weight classes lighter.
The ancestors readily acknowledged the limitations of the human species.
The combat strength of an individual human was only slightly better than that of a rabbit.
They lacked fur to protect them from the winter cold.
Their fingernails and toenails shattered against mere pebbles.
Their skin tore open at the scrape of a tree branch, and they were hopelessly vulnerable to disease.
All they possessed was a single tuft of grass to cover their waists.
Humanity put their heads together.
If we are to prosper...
"Gather more people!"
United, humanity deliberated with reason and logic, offering solutions through collective intellect. Even if it wasn't the ultimate answer, they acted on what they believed to be a better direction.
Thanks to that, humanity succeeded in building civilization.
Arming themselves, they hunted wild beasts and coped with natural disasters.
Freed from the shackles of mere survival, humanity rapidly expanded its power.
They broadened their reach across land and sea, and eventually into the sky.
Even into realms beyond their reach, they relentlessly set foot.
The teeth and claws of wild beasts devolved into mere luxury items, and natural disasters were no longer a fatal threat.
Humanity is truly arrogant.
The spears and blades once aimed at beasts turned upon each other.
To claim even a fraction more of this speck-of-dust blue planet—viewed from a cosmic scale—they stole from one another.
Blind blades ruthlessly took the lives of others.
Humanity fell into corruption.
It was a dark era overflowing with greed and selfishness.
Appeals to basic humanity were reduced to vulgar, unfunny jokes.
And so.
Just as human history was becoming stained dark red with blood, an unexpected enemy invaded.
The Demon King's Army—the 1st Human-Demon War had begun.
The moment war broke out, humanity was driven to the edge of a cliff.
On every front, they suffered helpless, crushing defeats.
It was natural. While humanity lay languishing in complacency and sloth, the demons had assembled with a single unified purpose.
The eradication of humanity.
"That beautiful land flowing with milk and honey is far too wasted on humans. Submerge it all!" shouted 3rd Corps Commander Vesna, raising a massive tsunami.
…
"Drive the humans out! Burn every trace of them! Show them clearly that true malice burns like fire!" 5th Corps Commander Agor's flames scorched all of creation.
…
"Soak the earth with human blood to make it fertile," added 4th Corps Commander Permush, assembling human flesh and bone.
…
"When the air of this blue star turns murky with complete redness," 2nd Corps Commander Kuarne smiled sickeningly.
…
"We shall prepare for That Person's descent in the promised land," proclaimed 1st Corps Commander Lycan.
…
Only at this declaration of total annihilation did humanity finally put down the weapons pointed at each other and unite.
They instinctively realized that begging for mercy would not work in the slightest against those demons.
Under the long-forgotten banner of "survival," humanity gathered once more.
However, the tides of war were overwhelmingly stacked against them.
With evil fiends charging in like a torrential wave, soldiers could only panic.
In countless situations, an actual battle could not even be formed.
One-sided massacres were a daily occurrence.
It was because human society was decayed to its very core.
It was impossible for such people to unite overnight; expecting otherwise was not hoping for a miracle, but asking for a stroke of mindless luck.
Humanity's banners snapped, and military morale plummeted to rock bottom.
Day by day, the war bugles of the Demon King's Army blared louder.
It seemed as though the last flickering candle of human hope was about to be snuffed out.
Humanity's fate is sealed.
Everyone gave up.
Yet, it is precisely when all are in despair that a hero emerges.
"Humanity will prevail."
"It is possible."
"The ember of humanity will not be extinguished here."
The hero born of troubled times lit the bonfire of hope and seized victory.
The Hero of the Origin, Balor Joaquin.
Here, Victor Poison pondered.
Humans are weak, yet arrogant. Without a pillar to support them, they easily shatter and rot.
Standing a step back from humans who live merely a hundred years...
Even now, it is the same. Corruption pervades modern society, and the demons will invade sooner or later.
He viewed human history and malice through the eyes of a third party.
He had more than enough time for contemplation.
He was an Ancient, free from the shackles of a finite lifespan.
In times like these, a savior is needed. A savior who will prevent humanity from falling into the mire of malice! Not just humanity, but I too shall be saved!
To this grand vision, Victor tacked on a small personal desire.
So, if I could just put an end to this dreadful life...
Twisted though that desire was.
I want to die by his hand!
Truly an idea fitting for a madman.
* * *
I was flabbergasted.
My mind was so tangled that only a few words came out.
"...What on earth are you talking about?"
"I am asking you to please strike me down with your own hand, Heavenly Sword!"
The Association President's words were incoherent.
Yet the clear eyes staring intently at me were brimming with insanity.
Is this what people nowadays call a "clear-eyed lunatic"?
I thought to myself that for a guy over two hundred years old, he certainly lived like a youth.
"Dad!"
Medea, unable to hold back any longer, stepped forward.
She grabbed Victor's wrist as if twisting it, practically bending his arm backward.
"Even if your brain is fried, what? Asking the Sword Demon to kill you?! What kind of utter nonsense are you spouting?!" Medea yelled furiously.
Her voice was sharp, but her face was pale.
"My second child..."
Whether he realized his daughter's inner turmoil or not, Victor stared blankly back at Medea.
"You know as well, don't you? That no one in our Poison family has ever lived out their natural lifespan. So...!"
Right into the right side of the mouth spouting that grand monologue, Medea's slap landed.
SLAP.
Medea didn't even give me a second to be startled.
Her raised arm swung in an arc once more.
SLAP.
This time on the left.
Ouch.
Was the Tyrant's hand particularly spicy?
Both of Victor's cheeks swelled up instantly.
Our society is built on a foundation of respect for elders.
Just talking back to one's parents summons an earful.
But a child resorting to violence?
We call that immoral. In other words, an unfilial brat.
Right now, Medea had become an unfilial child by slapping her own father.
Despite three pairs of eyes watching, she had delivered a refreshing slap to her dad's cheeks.
The very Academy Principal who always set an example for her cadets.
...Then again, it's understandable.
Imagine watching a parent blabber on in front of their child, asking to be killed.
A thick railroad spike driven into the left side of Medea's chest felt almost visible.
A spike carelessly hammered in by the man who was her father.
The sorrow and bitterness of being an Ancient was not something felt by Victor alone.
His daughter, Medea Poison, surely felt it too.
Yet, Medea had not gone mad.
...
I looked at Medea with a somber gaze.
From her position as Academy Principal, she watched over the cadets as a beacon for a new era.
Since she did not age, she volunteered to be a lighthouse for future heroes from that very same spot.
Medea was satisfied with and grateful for that life.
She willingly dedicated her life to the cadets she loved so dearly.
Her affection for the academy cadets was obvious just by looking at the official story of Miracle Blessing M.
The moment she sensed the harbinger of war through [Poet's Blessing], she acted.
First, she reported it to the Hero Association and the International Union, but they turned a blind eye.
What war in an era of peace?
Stop dabbling in political interference and just stick to your job as principal.
If she had physical evidence from the site, even those foolish bastards would have no choice but to accept it.
Deciding that talking to them was like reading scriptures to a bull, Medea immediately left to inspect the Demon Realm.
And there, on the barren soil of the Demon Realm, she met her death.
Very slowly and painfully, at the hands of 2nd Corps Commander Kuarne.
Only after her cold corpse was brought back did humanity realize Medea had been right.
Her death breathed a harsh wake-up call into the complacent human world.
Subsequently, the Academy, the Association, and the Union rallied as one. At the center of that righteous cause was Medea's sacrifice.
Sacrifice.
While someone tried to abandon their life, Medea sacrificed hers.
That devotion became a seed, allowing humanity to bear the fruit called victory.
In the future, the Sage Medea would be enshrined in the Pantheon alongside Balor Joaquin as one of only two Holy Heroes.
"Dad..."
That very Medea was now drooping her shoulders, her voice cracking.
"It wasn't really this bad before. Why on earth have you changed so much?"
"..."
Victor answered with silence.
By now, Medea seemed to intuitively realize it too: her father had completely lost his mind.
"You two, step outside for a moment..."
Without taking her eyes off Victor, she ordered her male escort and female secretary.
"Y-Yes, ma'am!"
Quick-witted, the secretary and escort hastily darted out of the research lab.
Even so, they didn't forget to salute.
It wasn't so much a strong work ethic as it was preparing against future retaliation.
Well, considering they stay at the Tyrant's side, their observational skills are hardly ordinary.
My eyes shifted from the door where the two had departed to the other pair in the room.
There, the Poison father and daughter were engaged in a fierce argument.
"My second child... It is not as if I wish to say such things... But I find this life unbearable now."
"Giving up on life just because it's unbearable—does that make any sense?! What about the Association you founded? What about the Spear Saint, that gorilla who trusted you and followed you for decades—is he a joke to you?!"
"The Association has proven itself, hasn't it? It has remained strong for twenty years without an old coot like me. And there is a successor. Second child, that friend Myura you mentioned will do far better than I. Naturally so, since he is a normal human like them."
Hearing his excuses, Medea snorted in contempt and shouted back.
"Oh, look at you, carefully preparing all these excuses! But you left out the most important part, didn't you? Asking the Sword Demon to strike you down—what's that about? Is that also an excuse about life being unbearable, or is it one of your dementia symptoms?!"
"Committing suicide like our ancestors is a bad habit. It must be broken now. Rather than that, by the hand of the savior...!"
"You... you crazy old geezer!"
Her raised hand froze. I had stepped in to stop Medea.
I shook my head side to side.
"No matter how much you hate your parents, a child shouldn't hit them. Principal, you've lost your composure."
Medea couldn't say another word.
Her face stiffened, as though guilt had washed over her belatedly.
I spoke as if comforting her.
"However, I'm not saying your reaction was wrong. Because to me, the Association President looks like he's lost his mind completely."
Gently nudging Medea aside, I stood in front of Victor instead.
"I understand a little of what you were feeling when you made that request to me, Association President. Your life must have been tedious, empty, and dreary."
"..."
"I understand, but even so, you are insane."
At my words, the Association President's expression turned blank.
Is calling a crazy person crazy really such a grand shock? Ah, right. They say true lunatics don't know they are lunatics.
"You are out of your mind. To ask me to kill you when you could choose to die fighting the demons."
I won't deny that my tone had an edge to it. I was genuinely angry at the Association President.
Partly because he made such an absurd request to me, but even more so because he made Medea sad.
It infuriated me that she was hurt because of a man this pitiful.
"So, here is a proposal."
I drew the Sashimi knife that Victor so desperately desired and held it in my grip.
After calming down Medea, who startled violently for a moment, I continued.
"I cannot kill you, but I will cure your madness. The method is physical therapy. As for this Sashimi—just think of it as a syringe or a scalpel."
"...?!"
I ran my finger once along the blade.
"You know what they say: a blade is the best medicine for a crazy bastard. I performed this procedure on the Archery Saint first, and the results were stunning."
The look the Association President gave me—as if I were the lunatic—was the absolute highlight.
Why give me a face like that?
"This might sting a little."
I proceeded with the treatment.