Chapter 293: God-Slaying God (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 293: God-Slaying God (1)
‘O God of the Sword...’
Kuarne’s eyes filled with tears of remorse. At his feet, corpses were piled high like mounds. There were fragments of human flesh, of course, but just as many belonged to demons.
‘You have finally opened your eyes.’
Kuarne didn't spare a single glance at the corpses. He only looked up at the sky. With its atmosphere stripped away, Earth’s sky was no longer a soft pale blue. A color of utter emptiness—pitch blackness—was now Earth's roof.
“Ah, ah.”
Countless sword scars laced the expanse. The universe he had thought was everything was now wounded.
Kuarne had imagined this very scene since time immemorial. Even in his dreams, this vision had appeared time and again.
“You are... truly magnificent.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, Kuarne covered his eyes. This universe was facing its apocalypse, so this grand scene would soon end. Yet it was beautiful precisely because it was fleeting. People naturally feel a nostalgic melancholy not for evergreen trees, but for flowers that bloom for a fleeting moment. Kuarne’s heart felt the same.
“Is this pathetic mess really all you wanted? Is this your grand finale?”
It was then that a voice echoed from a distance. Kuarne turned his head. A glare as abrasive as desert sand pierced toward All-Power Meain Poison.
“...Oxygen should be scarce, yet you are still able to move. Woman.”
Meain was the only hero still standing on her own two feet. The others were rolling their eyes back, foaming at the mouth.
“I’m not just some ordinary human, you see.”
Just as Kuarne said, normal breathing was impossible due to the depleted atmosphere. Not just for humans, but for demons as well. Every creature born and raised on this planet grew up breathing oxygen. Yet that taken-for-granted right had been stripped away.
Garrgh...
Screams entangled with one another. Human or demon, regardless of who they were, all were dying together. But they weren't the only ones suffering an unfair fate. Somewhere out there, alien planets harboring life were surely in the same boat. The 'Apocalypse' was unfolding equally across the entire universe.
Meain looked around at the death of the universe, then nonchalantly threw out a question to Kuarne, her sole remaining conversational partner.
“So your grand goal was just to die alongside the universe? Don't you think your plan was a bit overly extravagant for such a paltry objective?”
“Hmm.”
Kuarne fell into brief thought. Should he kill or spare this woman, who would vanish without a trace after three or four spells?
“Since things have come to this, I suppose I shall tell you a little.”
His hesitation was brief. She would die on her own soon enough anyway. 'That Person' was painting across the universe with a blade as his brush; it would be insolent for a mere being like himself to recklessly smudge blood over it.
‘Not that I have any real reason to entertain her, though.’
Kuarne was in an extraordinarily good mood right now. That emotion was fully reflected on his face. The gleam in his eyes was clearer and sharper than ever.
“Before I met That Person, I suffered from profound boredom. I felt deep skepticism about brandishing the gospels of false gods as if they were truth.”
Kuarne reminisced. His eyes grew moist with fond nostalgia.
“Then one day, That Person appeared before us. His face... well, with my feeble mind, I cannot recall it clearly, but I believe he was a man. His voice sounded somewhat youthful as well. But what did gender matter? Whatever form That Person possessed, I knew I was capable of loving him.”
“...”
Meain silently listened to Kuarne's story. While paying close attention, she cross-referenced his words with the prophetic text, the Akashic Records. There might be a clue to resolving this situation hidden in what he was saying.
“When I first saw him, That Person and I were enemies... I was so foolish. No matter if it was my master's orders at the time, how dare I attempt to oppose him? I should have committed treason if that's what it took to avoid it. But back then, I was not as wise as I am now. Yet, despite my foolishness, That Person kindly awakened me with his blade.”
Kuarne clawed furiously at his cheek as if bugs were crawling underneath his skin. Even as blood flowed and flesh peeled away, he muttered heedlessly.
“By the time I realized it, it was too late. Having fulfilled his holy task, That Person had already entered eternal rest. Ah... though I was ready to willingly dedicate this body and this universe to him... That Person no longer felt any interest in this world, and so he ended his own life.”
Kuarne’s eyes turned dull and lifeless.
“Yet I instinctively knew. That Person would surely return. When this world became filled with filth, he would descend again to cleanse everything. For his blade is a sword that cuts even death itself—and so, it was my duty to create the right conditions for his second coming.”
Kuarne had been sick with longing. When That Person vanished from this world, Kuarne’s life ended alongside it. Despair cast him into a deep abyss. For tens of thousands of years, he flailed at the bottom of a lonely, isolated sea. The overwhelming grief of losing everything corrupted him. The most beautiful angel succumbed to madness and fell from grace.
“So I immediately formed the Grigori and launched a rebellion. I didn't think it would succeed. Not with my elder brother Metatron around—he was the foremost among angels, after all. But that didn't matter. What mattered was the fact that I 'rebelled,' not the 'result.'”
The corners of Kuarne’s drooping mouth suddenly curled upward into a distorted smile.
“Next, I infiltrated the demons and sparked a war. Up until then, the world was still relatively clean—until seven hundred years ago, that is. Yes. The very event you humans named the First Human-Demon War.”
Kuarne gnashed his teeth. As a certain face suddenly flashed in his mind, jealousy and rage surged within him.
“Balor Joaquin... that pathetic fool was using a 'portion' of That Person's power. I was bewildered. He clearly wasn't That Person, so why was he wielding that power? Thus, I decided to observe. From afar, I watched the battle between 1st Corps Commander Lycan and the God of the Sword, and in that final moment, I was finally able to grasp That Person's location.”
Kuarne laughed again. His mood swings were volatile.
“That Person is a Being from the Outside. Therefore, the Hero of the Origin, Balor Joaquin, was merely a bridgehead meant to drag That Person into this world. Thus, the true God would one day return. And the optimal time for that...”
“...Is when the Hero appears.”
Meain finished his thought. Kuarne rounded his lips in mock surprise.
“To figure it out just from the context... your mind is quite decent for a human.”
“I suppose so. I am the former principal of this Academy you reduced to rubble, after all. Believe it or not, I'm one of humanity's greatest intellects.”
At those words, Kuarne scoffed. He swept his gaze over the Academy, now reduced to ash.
“The reason I attacked this place is because it was a prison. A prison that obstructed That Person's divinity and nurtured wicked humanity. Furthermore, you committed an act of foolish bravado. For mere humans to presume to teach a god—how utterly laughable is that? So, I thoroughly destroyed it for you.”
“Hahaha!”
Meain clutched her stomach and burst out laughing. Kuarne’s eyebrows furrowed sharply. He had seen his fair share of humans going mad and laughing hysterically right before death.
‘That laugh is different.’
That thought struck him. The green-haired woman's laughter was no hysterical fit. It held the unburdened relief of a human who had just resolved a long-standing mystery.
“The Academy isn't just this sprawling building.”
Meain lightly kicked a piece of stone rubble rolling near her feet as she spoke.
“A mere building? We can just rebuild it. Seven hundred years of history? That's not very long for demons, right? It's the same for humans. Just because a single individual can't live that long doesn't mean the spirit of the era doesn't endure forever.”
Meain caught her breath. Was it just her imagination? The air that had been suffocatingly thin just a few minutes ago felt considerably smoother.
‘It's... not my imagination.’
By casting a quick glance up at the sky, she realized the reason. Her cross-referencing of Kuarne's rambling lament with the Akashic Records had just concluded.
‘The God of the Sword is male, youthful voice, the Hero of the Origin is the guide, second coming, the Hero...’
Meain began piecing together the fragmented clues like a puzzle. Since the framework was already in place, it didn't take long.
“Kang Geomma.”
Meain spoke that name. Kuarne’s face contorted violently in rage.
“That Person's name is no longer Kang Geomma! That was merely a filthy name attached to his vessel. His true name is Herev. The sword itself!”
“No.”
Meain shook her head. Splatters of sweat dripped onto the ground.
“He is Kang Geomma.”
Meain raised her index finger and pointed upward. Kuarne glared at her as if ready to slaughter her on the spot, then turned his eyes to the sky he had been treasuring.
And he was left entirely speechless. Kuarne was struck dumb with horror. His face, already fair, turned as pale as a corpse.
[The True Blessing of Transfer manifests.]
[Combined with the 'Demon Eye Defying Heaven', the radius expands across the entire worldline.]
Golden light spread across the entire universe.
[The True Blessing of Regeneration manifests.]
[It seals the sword wounds across the entire worldline and assists the universe's self-restoration.]
The cosmic clock, which had been wounded, broken, and malfunctioning, clicked back into gear.
[The Divine Blessing of Borrowed Power manifests.]
[As the caster's speed exceeds the speed of light, it traverses backward through the timeline.]
A female voice echoed in their ears. To some, it was glad tidings; to others, a toll of doom.
[The True Blessing of Communication manifests.]
[Through this blessing, these words are translated into all languages and conveyed to everyone.]
Meanwhile, the heroes and demons who had been lying motionless began squirming on the ground. Kuarne, on the other hand, lost focus in his eyes. His pupils looked hollow.
“A-Ah... No. This cannot be! It cannot end like this!”
It was time to wake from the dream he never wanted to leave and return to reality.
[The Blessing of the Sword God manifests.]
++++++++++++++++++++
《May the Blessing of God be with you.》
++++++++++++++++++++
* * *
I see a skein of light. I reach out my hand. It feels within my grasp, yet slips from my fingertips like silk.
‘Just one more step.’
How many steps have I taken? Once the count exceeded trillions, I stopped keeping track.
I simply kept walking. I did not rest. Using the indigo light in the far distance as my beacon, I threw my body forward like a moth to a flame. I even had the illusion that my flesh was melting into the universe itself.
‘No, perhaps it wasn't an illusion.’
Having wandered the universe for billions of years, perhaps I really had become one with it.
I witnessed the birth and death of stars. I watched them gather in clusters to build galaxies. Hundreds of millions of years have passed since I swept past them into the empty spaces of the cosmos. It has been a long time since I swam through the void and futility, chasing nothing but that indigo hue.
Though my mind has withered dry like an ancient tree, there is no physical aging.
At least my appearance remains just like back then—the same as those days I can barely remember. For I have twisted the laws of the world.
I rewound time. Before I knew it, I became an existence beyond causality. I sprinted infinitely forward, driven by a single purpose.
—Get a hold of yourself, Kang Geomma.
Lycan steadies my mind.
—It's almost time. If you let go now, you will be cast out from the bonds of time and will never be able to return to reality.
Without his advice, I likely would have halted after reversing merely tens of thousands of years.
—There are people waiting for you there. Remember them.
A demon's whisper. Ironically, it reignites the embers of hope.
“Yeah.”
I spoke. Because my conscious mind was still as a clear mirror and calm water, it was my subconscious that answered.
“I have to go back.”
Light washed over my retinas. A single beam of light guiding me, pulling me forward.
It was not a thread of cosmic order, but the manifestation of familiar, longing faces. The human heart.
In that fleeting instant—
A sticky sensation licked my cheek. I closed my eyes and opened them. Brilliance gathered in my pupils. From the sockets of my eyes, white spectral flames trailed long and slow, like a wolf's breath.
I vividly perceived my surroundings. The veil of the abyss crumpled and tore open smoothly.
Figures revealed themselves. Their line-up was chaotic and their sizes uneven, varying wildly. Yet all their eyes were turned toward one exact point.
〈Truly, we wished to see you again.〉
The rulers of the old era faced a reality transcending causality.
〈God of the Sword.〉
They are gods. Gods do not move solely within the bounds of time and space. They exist in the past, the present, and the future. Causality itself is merely a framework of their own creation.
Shing.
My sashimi knife severed their words in a single blow. At the center of the abyss, the ringing resonance of the blade spread out in overlapping ripples.
—To avoid placing strain on your body and the worldline, you must not drag out this battle.
Lycan added. I nodded.
“I know.”
Just one minute a day.
“It's always been like that.”
I become the Sword Saint.