Chapter 248
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 248
Chapter Title: Killing a God-Possessed Body
Killing a god-possessed body physically is incredibly difficult.
Stabbing it with a sword or shooting it with an arrow won't even make it blink. Even taking a cannonball head-on that would turn a person into paste would only scratch clothing with low divinity infusion.
Most war weapons are efficient. Bullets don't need to be any faster, and making them larger makes them inconvenient to carry, so firearms have settled on their current size.
To topple something tougher requires bigger weapons, and only a portion of the forces carry those.
Tanks and walking mechs are no different.
A tank only needs to be tough enough to protect its crew from man-killing projectiles, and a walking mech only needs to contend with the gods' creations.
Of course, these massive machines have evolved stronger weapons and tougher armor to fight each other, but they don't demand destruction beyond a certain threshold.
Even heavy weapons that kill multiple people don't need to get any stronger.
That's why dealing damage to a possessed body with purely physical weapons is so tough.
'But...'
Hegemonia glanced back and eyed the orc-sized shell hurtling straight at her.
'...In Lost World, weapons capable of harming apostles and gods aren't used.'
Using her divinity-enhanced accelerated thinking, Hegemonia identified the shell.
It was a shot from the Empire's mobile super-heavy artillery.
'The bombardment paused for a bit, and in that time, they've gotten close enough to lob shells this deep inland?'
Hegemonia checked how much time remained until she could exit the orc's body.
'56 seconds.'
Plenty of time left.
If she could, she'd simply vacate the orc's body to minimize damage.
Unfortunately, it wasn't something she could dodge at that speed.
Divinity directly accelerated a god's cognitive abilities, but physical capabilities and raw strength had their limits.
'Guess I'll have to tank it directly.'
Hegemonia wasn't too worried about the shell itself.
It would punch through the orc's natural body in one shot, and no Empire or Allied Kingdom tank or walking mech could withstand it either. Those weren't the primary targets anyway.
It had barely scratched the Allied Kingdom's sky fortress, but at that size, even the largest divine beast-class warships would shatter from a single hit.
'Still, it doesn't have the power to kill a possessed body.'
Hegemonia knew Arrega Lob, the werewolf apostle, had taken wounds from Seong-un's bombardment.
It was undoubtedly a dangerous weapon.
But Hegemonia's current possessed body surpassed even that werewolf apostle's physical prowess.
To harm a possessed body, the weapon needed comparable 'divinity'.
This divinity created a vast gap between the infused and the mundane. Only a handful of ancient relics, god-forged creations, apostles and their weapons, god-possessed bodies, and gods' direct manifestations carried it.
And even among those, divinity levels varied, making lower ones struggle against higher.
To challenge a god, you needed at least apostle-level divinity.
What puzzled her was something else.
'How'd they hit so precisely?'
She knew Nebula—Seong-un—could curve trajectories with his wind powers.
But that required prior knowledge of her possession target.
Hegemonia had only possessed the orc seconds ago.
The shell, arcing in a parabola, must have been fired dozens of seconds earlier.
'Lucky shot?'
That was the only explanation Hegemonia could muster.
Coincidental opportunity. Accidental luck.
'That's all...?'
Hegemonia couldn't imagine more.
She stopped dwelling on the shell.
'Alright, catch it with both hands and slam it into the ground. That should reduce the damage to a level this orc body can handle. I could even use the rebound to launch toward the opposite front. Stance would be...'
As she planned, Hegemonia manipulated the orc's body down to its involuntary muscles, nerves, and every muscle fiber, moving to execute her ideal maneuvers.
But then she belatedly spotted something off about the incoming shell—a faint silhouette around its edges.
'...No way?'
It was proof the shell carried divinity.
—┼
Heavenly Mandate Emperor Kyle Rak Orzan died of illness.
At forty-three, it was relatively young.
With the war against the Allied Kingdoms underway and life growing harsh even in the capital Orzan, many suspected assassins and launched investigations.
But the players already knew.
Kyle had been born with a weak heart, and no matter how advanced medicine got, diagnosis—let alone treatment—was impossible in time. The players merely watched from above as the mortals busied themselves, giving them space to accept his death.
Some players thought differently.
At the time, Wisdom argued they should have strained to keep Kyle alive longer.
"Nebula, it might be tough now, but if we'd started forty years ago when we found him, we could've done heart transplants by surgery by now."
"But unifying the Third Continent would've been a pipe dream. We'd have dumped all faith into tech advancement."
"Fair point. But wasn't Kyle too exceptional? If he'd just lived, he could've reshaped the world later. Imagine if he'd lasted twenty—no, ten more years. We might've even seen him triumph over the Allied Kingdoms."
Seong-un calmly acknowledged it.
Wisdom wasn't wrong.
He'd become king through Seong-un's guidance, but if a king had those stats in a normal Lost World game, it'd be a sure win.
"But that ignores variables. From my view back then, Kyle, his surroundings, the Empire's position—it wasn't right for that gamble. High starting stats don't guarantee growth."
Players could see stats, but not growth potential. They called it 'growth ceiling,' and specimens like Rakrak, Hwikyung, and Kyle had high ones.
So players hoped controllable entities had high ceilings. Seong-un had been lucky.
Wisdom conceded the facts but shook his head.
"Still a shame. Even as an apostle candidate, influencing the mortal world from the pantheon ignores causality costs. Letting that genius end like this."
Seong-un asked curiously.
"Who said it's ending?"
Wisdom's mind whirred.
"...Huh?"
As Seong-un said, Kyle's death didn't end the Empire's growth through him.
Direct intervention was tricky, as Wisdom noted.
Even if Kyle showed genius in science, ideas, talents—interfering on the mortal plane consumed faith due to causality.
But Seong-un knew another way.
"Wisdom."
"What?"
"Do you think this world isn't a game?"
"Philosophical? Simulation universe? Not my specialty, but not unrelated."
Seong-un shook his head.
Wisdom knew tons and aptly named concepts from academia that Seong-un hadn't heard.
"Dunno about that. Here's my take—hear me out."
"What're you getting at?"
Seong-un said,
"The world we're in now and Lost World as a game. What's the key difference?"
"Too many to pick. Time flows continuously, every detail controllable..."
"But Earth could make 'a game like this' theoretically, right?"
"VR or AR? Multiverse? ...Not impossible."
"Yet this world doesn't feel like a game."
"Perspective-dependent, but nah, Nebula. I believe this world is real, all life here exists."
Seong-un nodded.
"Back to my point—the decisive factor is one."
After a pause, Seong-un said,
"If this world were a game, we couldn't replicate it."
"Simulation hypothesis confirmed. Why?"
"Storage capacity."
Wisdom's mind halted.
"Right, Nebula. Everything's data. Even theoretical quantum computers would need insane sizes for this data volume. Depending on calcs, but impossible."
"So I'm gonna prove it."
"Prove what?"
Seong-un said,
"This world is actually a game."
"...Hmm. How?"
"We're gods—we can create anything. Need space? Expand it. Basic elements? Summon 'em. So we could recreate 'this game.'"
"But..."
Seong-un pointed at Wisdom's head.
"Exactly—'capacity.' If we simulate an identical world flawlessly, high chance it's a game. Makes no scientific sense otherwise. Violates physics."
"Not full proof. Plus, creation costs faith—the most precious resource."
"I know."
"Intriguing challenge, but how's proving it help win the game?"
Seong-un waved it off.
"Opposite. Whether it's a game or not doesn't matter. The benefits come when we can simulate."
"Benefits?"
Seong-un paused, surprised Wisdom asked.
"You really don't know?"
"Huh?"
"Run countless games to here, then watch outcomes. That's precognition. Or practice our moves first. That's prediction."
"Ah."
"Like now—enemies everywhere. No clue who hits which front, so reinforce all. But know in advance? Small forces suffice."
Wisdom said slowly,
"Read all future scenarios... ahead of time."
"If possible."
Wisdom sighed unusually.
"Not easy, Nebula."
"Telling a programmer this."
"Just clarifying—programmers don't know all hardware. I'm theory-only there."
"Oh?"
"Not my field anyway."
Seong-un said,
"Doesn't need perfect match. Aim for real-world fidelity eventually, but 'Lost World' level helps now. Skip details, keep big picture. Not future tech—our era's suffices."
Wisdom countered,
"Still hard."
"We got countless scholars."
"Sure, computers eventually. But it'll take ages."
"Within 50 years?"
"Impossible. Wasteful faith spend, I'd advise."
Seong-un shrugged.
"Might be possible."
He pointed at the monitor, where Kyle Rak Orzan awakened in the primordial lands.
"We've got a genius."