Chapter 105
Translator: uly
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: The Second Trial
Neshef and Miplas each established their religions, leaving behind words through them, but Orun did not. Orun had no intention of transmitting his teachings. He was simply the victory of this land, the blessing descending from the heavens alongside the angels.
Because he himself was the utmost good.
He was the good will caught between the truth and life left by the great El. Thus, even when Neshef and Miplas existed as wills amid chaos, dividing the righteous from the unrighteous in this world, he did nothing. He was El Or, the good will. He always pursued what was more righteous, and that very direction was why the great El had granted him divinity.
Orun was the king and shepherd of the angels who defeated the progeny of sin in the beginning.
The angels, led by the archangels, always followed his good will.
"I shall follow the utmost good will."
As the archangel with a halo slowly raised his head and smiled faintly, the blue light permeating the blood of the god flowing across the ceiling seemed to lose its hue for a moment.
Bulki could only be flustered at the sight. Had factions formed within the heavenly host? Or were they divided on the matter of the progeny of sin? If not that, had the Mir returned? Understanding the Hero's dilemma, the Archangel of Judgment, Jeker, rose from his seat once more, gathered his arms, and spoke.
"We don't have time to dawdle. Once night falls and the Maamark swarm, I'must return to the battlefield. I will report that I found no progeny of sin among you during this day and that night has come. But Tehilla won't believe my word. So we must show him. Not that I released you, but that you overcame me."
"We... overcame you?"
Jeker didn't answer Bulki's question. Instead, Lilit stepped forward first.
"It'seems like there's some method. He looks ready to let us and even Dabagnel go, so let's hear it out, Hero."
The Hero would never lose the path to saving everyone. That had been proven in the first trial. Now, through this second trial, the Hero would prove his worth once more.
"What's the method?"
"Use the progeny of sin."
The qualification to bear Orun's will-that resolve to shoulder anything for the path to saving all.
"Grant sin to this child."
***
And so, 'night' returned once more to this inverted world.
The god, and the chaos that followed, the El and the other Mir who repelled it. Unlike the true world influenced by such forces, night in this inverted world denoted an irregular cycle. It differed from day in only one way: Orun's blood began to turn golden.
Light blazes brighter in the presence of darkness.
Due to some reactive force by which Orun's corpse regained light through that blood, the skies here darkened, and his rotting parts began to awaken, dyed in shadow. And at that boundary always stood the apostle of the god who guarded this night, the Archangel of Judgment, Jeker. During the day, he handled the remnants of Maamark in the underground passage within Orun's waist or rested, then ascended here at night to halt the Maamark advance.
"Praise the friends of the sacrificed wings, Jeker."
Archangel Jeker reappeared on the battlefield shrouded entirely in hazy night fog. He pressed his wings to Orun's corpse-that is, to the ground-and traced the holy sign with four hands, offering prayer to the vanished god.
"This night shall be guarded as well."
He rose again, his halo tracing a clear, sacred line that blazed brighter, and in an instant, light burst forth, dispelling the fog. The entire inverted world was filled with light.
That was the signal flare for the endless war between day and night, the moment when Tehilla at the chest responded to Jeker's signal by moving Orun's rigid arms. Enveloped in radiance, Jeker turned around.
"The Archangel of Judgment, Jeker, has arrived at today's battlefield."
An angel monitoring the distant scene through a device like a mirror transmitting light-or a line of pierced spears-reported to Archangel Tehilla. Tehilla rose from his position as the angel commander of the sacred temple at the heart, receiving the report. In a low voice, he said,
"Yes, I've confirmed Jeker's mass. It'seems things won't conclude until we pass this night."
Then he too pressed his wings to the ground and quietly continued his prayer, halo aglow.
"Praise the mute who was in the lowest place, Tehilla."
Tehilla stood tall at a seat formed by ancient runes, tracing the holy sign.
"All angels of the two arms, prepare to attack in accordance with my mass. The signal will come from the Archangel of Judgment, Jeker-follow his glory, and tonight, we shall drive back the abyss once more!"
Thus, the temple was bathed in brilliant golden light. But as the light blazed fiercer, the shadows grew denser. Accordingly, the Maamark cowering at the god's waist began to awaken one by one. They had sleek, fish-like skin, their body proportions twisted unlike humans', all lacking legs and moving with tails.
Their forms were similar despite varied movements; at first, they resembled blunt clumps of darkness like maggots, but as the gloom deepened, gills sprouted, savage teeth emerged, and their eyes-distorted pupils as if devouring chaos-radiated menace enough to extinguish light.
"Praise him!"
At that moment, Archangel Jeker shouted loudly, wrapping his wings around his body.
"Praise him!"
Holy flames rose, his entire form glowing golden. It was the authority granted only to those ordained by Orun for the role of judgment, the final spear against darkness.
Archangel Jeker faced the darkness with only his four arms and two legs, weaponless.
Kwa-gwang!
With every swing of his fists, Maamark vanished like torches lit in a cave.
Kwa-gwang!
With every stomp, the earth erupted, Maamark vanishing.
"Praise him!"
Finally, he stretched two arms toward the heavens and clasped the other two before his chest, unleashing a massive storm of light around him-like a pillar of fire-sweeping away foes and darkness. In that instant, half the Maamark that had bloomed this night were annihilated by Jeker's light without a trace.
"Now! All angels, seize those righteous arms in praise!"
Watching the scene, Tehilla commanded anew through the mass, the angels' communication system. No matter the distance, the angels at Orun's arms obeyed, pressing wings to the ground and continuing prayers. The prayers gathered like a mighty word, and aligned with Tehilla's arms, Orun's massive arms began descending toward the waist.
"Now... this next part will be crucial."
A wondrous spectacle unfolded, like a colossal golden fortress piercing the clouds. Jeker planned to exploit the gap after clearing the remaining Maamark from those arms.
"Hero, breathe upon me the sin you have permitted."
With those resigned words from Jeker, Orun's arms rose as if revived, literally grasping the massive storm of light Jeker had unleashed-like the hand of a god seizing lightning and tempest-to support Orun's waist under Tehilla's control.
"It's over."
In an instant, all Maamark vanished, and the abyss failed to endure this night. Tehilla smiled in satisfaction at the sight. But one of the watching angels cried out.
"Archangel! Something is approaching the Archangel of Judgment!"
Tehilla bolted from his seat, snatching the device to view Jeker. Jeker nodded as if aware Tehilla was watching.
"Jeker... so you proceeded with the trial after all. Then what of the Hero?"
Approaching Jeker were the progeny of sin with a thousand arms. The Hero, carrying the child with burning eyes of sin in two arms, advanced toward Jeker.
"Hero, is that your answer?"
In him, Tehilla saw the qualification to bear Orun's will-the resolve to shoulder anything for the path saving all.
"I'm sorry."
He was using that innocent, pure child to stain his own path with darkness.
"Truly, I'm sorry."
His steps fell heavily, seeming to bear sin itself with each advance. Dabagnel kept screaming, and that terror reached Jeker. The thousand arms engulfed the archangel. At once, Bulki covered Dabagnel's eyes with his hand.
"That's enough now. Rest a bit, Dabagnel."
This was the plan Jeker had spoken of. To survive the night, he repels the Maamark, but at its end, Orun's righteous arms move-precisely toward the Hero's camp and the seal where the Mir vanished. Of course, per Jeker, the Hero's camp had collapsed and their ship moved to another arm, but leaving that search to the sun fairies and dwarves, overpowering Jeker with terror would allow the Hero to meet the Mir and head to the heart.
"I'm sorry, Dabagnel."
But crucially, nothing in this inverted world could topple Jeker save the progeny of sin. Thus, even they must be used.
Dabagnel didn't know the method, so the Hero had to invoke it himself.
Thus, it was recorded in the tale: to defeat the archangel, the Hero draped sin upon the pure child. A painful, horrific sin, yet the Hero willingly accepted it. He immersed his hands in sin directly.
"Really, truly sorry, Dabagnel..."
In the battlefield between day and night, Bulki embraced the child breathing faintly and shed tears. He wouldn't dismiss it as unavoidable. Now, go-and surely defeat the archangel.
"I won't forgive you."
The Hero glared with wide eyes at Tehilla in Orun's heart.
"Very well, Hero. Now, face the final trial crafted by angels and Mir."
Of course, Tehilla had been watching him all along.