Chapter 10: The Man Who Became a God (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 10: The Man Who Became a God (1)
Let’s summarize the situation.
“So, what you’re saying is…”
The world was progressing toward utter perfection.
Friction between the Human Realm and the Demon Realm persisted, but it rarely escalated into serious conflict.
Those minor disputes were merely the defeated demons asserting their rights. Even a naturally bellicose race like theirs didn’t genuinely desire war.
‘Because they know.’
They knew all too well that they couldn't handle the lingering aftershocks of another war. It was, in essence, nothing more than a final desperate struggle.
Even their main enemies, the False Gods, were long gone. Not just relegated to the shadows of history—their very existence had been literally ‘deleted’ from this universe.
‘And yet.’
Heroes were still awakening Blessings.
‘Maybe if it were only the pre-war generation, but…’
The new generation born after the war possessed Blessings as well. It was a situation that blatantly contradicted the setting of this world, Miracle Blessing M.
“You must have sensed it vaguely too.”
I had.
“That things are drifting in a strange direction.”
Of course I had noticed.
“You just turned a blind eye because you wanted to stay comfortable in the status quo.”
“…”
She hit the nail right on the head.
“Listen carefully.”
Yoo Se-in let out a heavy sigh and pushed back her bangs. She continued in a solemn tone.
“Every world has a predetermined form of apocalypse. Whether it’s the universe you came from or the one I came from. Every universe has a lifespan.”
“And this world’s lifespan…”
As my voice trailed off, Yoo Se-in nodded.
“That’s right. When you struck down all the False Gods, this world should have collapsed. But look at it now. Is it destroyed? No. On the surface, it looks like the ultimate happy ending.”
“…”
“Because you love this world too much. Because you—Kang Geomma, the one and only god of this universe, the God of Sword—wish for this universe not to end. That’s why your subconscious bound your humanity to this world. Because you didn't want it to end. Because you didn't want it to return to nothingness.”
I listened in silence, letting out only a low groan.
I knew Yoo Se-in wasn't saying this to scold me. Yet a heavy weight of guilt sank deeper and deeper into my chest.
“…The reason Blessings haven’t vanished must be because this world loses its reason for existence without ‘Blessings’…”
“Yeah.”
“And the person holding the snack bag you just popped sealed tight… was ultimately me, too.”
“You could put it that way.”
“Then that means… Mmph!”
Yoo Se-in leaned in so close her face filled my vision, reaching out a finger to press against the center of my lips.
“Shh.”
“?”
My expression must have been quite a sight if anyone else had seen it.
“If you, the absolute god, speak ‘those words’ out loud, it could affect the worldline. Geomma, you’re not just a human anymore. It feels weird saying this, but you’re a god—a God with a capital G. An entity second only to the Counterforce, interfering with the natural order…”
I couldn't hear a word she was saying. All I could feel was a salty taste lingering on the tip of my tongue.
And no wonder—those were the exact fingers she’d been using to eat potato chips just a moment ago.
Wait.
Come to think of it, after devouring the chips with those fingers, she had sucked on them… or to put it mildly, covered them in saliva.
Dammit!
“Ptu! Ptu!”
A wave of nausea washed over me. As I made a show of spitting into the air, Yoo Se-in knitted her brows.
“We’re family, a little exchange of spit isn’t going to kill you. Stop being so dramatic.”
Yoo Se-in took a few steps back and shot a retort at me. But if she was going to play it like that, I had plenty to say too.
“Did you forget that us being ‘family’ is just a joke? Ugh, damn it. Ptu, ptu. Did you soak your hands in seawater or something? I was a knife-wielding fishmonger in my past life, but I’ve never tasted anything this heavily seasoned.”
The serious atmosphere instantly ground to a dead halt.
“Hmm.”
Yoo Se-in stared at me blankly, as if she were looking at a ghost.
From my perspective under her pitch-black eyes, it felt a little eerie.
“Come to think of it, this is a first.”
Yoo Se-in wiped her lower lip with her thumb.
“Doing something like this with someone else.”
The corners of her mouth—usually dry and droopy—seemed to twitch upward for some reason. Surely it was just my imagination.
…At least, I wanted to believe so.
* * *
Beneath the bedrock of Gehenna.
Leon and Metatron carefully took each step forward. Yet, as if mocking their vigilance, the underground of the Demon Realm was eerily silent.
Though pitch-black as if smeared with ink, the darkness posed no obstacle to the two men. The brilliant radiance radiating from their wings brightly illuminated their surroundings.
“There doesn't seem to be much here, Father.”
“So it seems.”
Even with their senses honed to a sharp edge, no suspicious presence was felt.
The only notable thing was that winding paths crisscrossed so deep underground. Given the nature of the location, however, that was somewhat understandable.
Step, step.
The two men walked without a clear destination.
By now, it felt a bit anticlimactic. Had they been overly sensitive because of the recent anomaly?
“I guess it was an unnecessary worry.”
“It’s a relief if it was.”
Leon scratched his cheek awkwardly.
“Yeah. I guess I haven't broken my old habits either. Why do I feel disappointed about this…”
It happened in an instant.
Thwip.
Metatron thrust out an arm, blocking Leon’s path.
“Father?”
“…”
Even when called, Metatron only showed his vast, broad back. However, gravel and dust beneath his feet vibrated restlessly.
Fwump!
Leon groaned.
His eyes stung as his retinas were suddenly exposed to a burst of bright light.
“I was careless, my son.”
Metatron turned around with a gentle smile. Two additional pairs of wings had sprouted from his back.
Though all his wings had been torn off during past torture, thanks to the devoted care of All-Power Meain Poison, Metatron had succeeded in regenerating up to four pairs.
“I-I’m alright.”
Leon pressed his hand against his eyelids.
“Setting that aside, what is it?”
“Look over there.”
Leon shifted his gaze in the direction Metatron gestured with his chin.
“What is that…?”
At the end of his line of sight stood a rounded structure resembling an egg, but its scale was unlike any ordinary egg.
It was colossal—excessively so.
“It appears to be an egg, for now.”
Approaching it, it was even larger than it looked from a distance. The egg easily dwarfed Metatron's height, which neared three meters. By estimation, it looked to be well over five meters tall.
They wondered if it could truly be classified as an egg, but when knocked on, it had the unmistakable texture of a shell.
“Could it be a dragon’s egg?”
“I wish it were, but it doesn't seem to be.”
Metatron gestured toward a spot on the egg with his eyes.
Letters were inscribed there. Leon tried to read them, but it was a language he had never seen before. As his son stroked his chin in confusion, Metatron smirked faintly.
“You silly boy.”
He gave him a light flick to the forehead.
“What did you even learn at the academy? That’s the Rune Language.”
“Runes are a dead language. They don't even teach it at the academy…”
“Mmm, is that so? Hm. It was quite a popular language back in my day. Then again, comparing my sense of time to that of humans is my mistake.”
As Metatron’s ancient eyes reminisced about the past, Leon pointed a finger at the writing.
“So what does it say?”
“Let’s see…”
Just as Metatron was about to lean in to look closer—
הר מגידו
A voice echoed from a blind spot in their perception.
Leon and Metatron turned their heads toward the sound. A pointed boot tip abruptly emerged from the darkness.
“It means ‘The Final Day.’”
Stepping out from the shadows, the intruder grinned, revealing his teeth.
Upon confirming the identity of the uninvited guest, an indescribable emotion flickered across Metatron’s face.
The opponent was once the ruler of the Demon Realm and the direct superior of his own younger brother.
“It’s been a while, Metatron.”
“…”
The 1st Corps Commander, Lycan. A confrontation was now set between him and Metatron, the former leader of the angels.
* * *
I returned to the academy. However, I didn’t head straight home. I decided to take a walk instead.
“There’s no one around.”
Whether because it was the weekend or because it was April, in the midst of the lingering spring chill, the academy grounds were quiet and deserted.
A silly thought suddenly crossed my mind—that spending my days constantly surrounded by cadets might have been just a dream.
Only after walking for several minutes did I stop.
A solitary bench greeted me lonely.
“Long time no see.”
The paint was peeling as if chewed away by mice. Beneath its legs, weeds had managed to push their way through the asphalt and grow.
It was the bench I used to frequent during my student days whenever I wallowed in solitude. Meeting Abel for the first time… being called a “dummy” by Ryozo… it all happened right at this bench.
‘A lot of time has passed.’
Feeling the transience of time, I sat down on the bench.
I leaned my head back loosely, watching the evening sky as dusk slowly settled in.
Sitting like this made me feel strangely sentimental.
Peace had bloomed beneath the soles of combat boots. Just like the weeds near my feet.
Even those trivial weeds had sprouted by drinking the fresh blood of the heroes sacrificed ten years ago.
‘Is that why?’
I never carelessly step on even a single blade of grass at Joaquin Academy. Someone might ask what kind of pathetic melodrama that is for a God of Sword to indulge in.
For me, who was kicked out of a miserable Earth, this world—Joaquin Academy—was a gift given to me by my first boss.
It holds a special meaning for me.
And yet, the countless Holy Heroes sacrificed in the 2nd Human-Demon War had voluntarily thrown their lives away.
Pushed by the system, searching for artifacts…
Thinking back to how passively I used to move, I felt ashamed of my past self.
‘If I had been in their shoes, would I have made the same choice?’
I had asked and answered this question to myself countless times, but in the end, I could never reach a conclusion.
No.
‘I deliberately avoided it.’
Because a strangling sense of debt acted like a binding rope, squeezing my heart tight…
Suddenly, it felt as though the thick weeds morphed into the shape of hands, grabbing hold of my ankles.
“I…”
Refused to become a god.
I embraced being human.
That was why the crushing weight of responsibility bound my feet and pressed down on my shoulders at times like this. Cold chills ran down my spine often—precisely because I was merely human.
I had imprisoned myself in the cage known as emotion, rebelling against the Completion of the World out of pure selfishness.
Yoo Se-in had argued that if I insisted on merely preserving the status quo like this, the world would meet its doom.
Tighten.
The suffocating pressure tightened all the way up to my calves.
My internal conflict flared fiercely.
‘If I throw away my humanity right here, will everything be resolved?’
Then…
Then what happens to the family I built?
What becomes of Ryozo and Abel?
These deeply human anxieties kept holding me back, tethering me to reality.
That’s right.
I was afraid. This was an intimate secret I couldn't share with anyone…
The more the world revered me, the more the chains of guilt wrapped around my limbs, binding my soul.
“Hah…”
I rested my elbows heavily on my knees and bent my back forward. My deep sigh blew against the weeds below.
‘I’m sorry.’
Because I’m so greedy, I might end up making your deaths meaningless.
I chuckled bitterly at myself.
It was a good thing this was a deserted spot on campus; if a cadet had seen me like this, they would have been utterly shocked.
Rustle.
Just then, I felt a gentle touch caressing my shoulder.
Reflexively, I turned around.
From behind, a tree branch had lightly rested against my back. Five-petaled flowers were blooming modestly upon it.
It swept down my back like a person’s touch, filled with all the warmth of early spring.
After standing dazed for a brief moment—
The cry of a Scops owl snapped me back to reality.
“Well, this is embarrassing.”
Chuckling softly, I gently took hold of the flowering branch as if shaking hands with it. Then, I plucked a petal and let it ride the night breeze.
“Alright, alright. I get it.”
I brushed off my pants and stood up.
“I’ll stop whining.”
Pear blossoms, announcing the beginning of spring.
Their language of flowers: affection, comfort, and solace.