Chapter 27
Chapter 27
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: Truth (3)
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"Arrrgh!"
In an instant, Gil was struck by an arm entangled in the corpse of a pus-filled lump and sent flying far away, crashing into the corner. Sticky venom oozed out, groping over Gil's entire body.
"Rondnel! Save Gil!"
Bulki shouted as he lunged forward, but even as Shainelius tried to keep it in check, the tentacle-like corpses swinging wildly made it impossible to even get close.
"Elis, no choice! Get ready!"
[Formation - Rock Guarding the Sword].
Bulki commanded Elis while raising a thick earthen wall behind the pus lump. Understanding his intent, Elis roughly pulled her visor down, resumed her stance, shoved the approaching pus aside with her left hand, and thrust the spear she held toward her foe.
Knight's Spear Piercing the Heavens.
Screeech!
The fierce light streaking through the air blew off the top of the pus lump entirely, leaving a massive hole-but the pus lump was still moving, spewing venom.
[Judgment of Glory].
Boom!
A deafening explosion erupted. Bulki, his eyes gleaming gold, charged in and crushed the remaining mass.
A few stone pillars collapsed, but fortunately, the cave didn't crumble.
Bulki gathered the group. Gil seemed covered in burns from the venom, but luckily, Rondnel had grabbed recovery potions from Magen earlier and treated him easily.
"This is..."
Confirming everyone was safe, Bulki spotted a black gemstone in the center of the floor where the corpses had gathered. He looked to Shainelius, as if asking for an explanation.
"Got it. I'll tell you what I know now."
In response, Shainelius, sweeping her swollen fingers aside, stood gripping a long bowstring with both hands and addressed the group.
"Tehom's Foreseers. That's what us fairies originally called those crushed ones. Abyss Watchers, Sin Bearers, Forgotten Pilgrims. Each race remembers them by different names in their own myths and legends."
"If it's Tehom's Foreseers, us dwarves call them the same. The rumors in the Empire must come from tales of dwarves and fairies."
Shainelius caught her breath at Rondnel's words and continued her explanation.
"We don't know how they cross from Gehenna to the eastern continent, but they bore the marks of demons-proof of the many demon gods from the western continent. Yet they are unmistakably human."
"Why would humans...? Why are other races there too? Urk!"
As Gil forced himself up to ask, Shainelius blocked her teeth and went on.
"As if their fate is to drift aimlessly somewhere, they walked endlessly through the darkness, evading the world's eyes. Whether their destination was here, the birthplace of the Holy Brazier... only the kings of the giant dwarves might have known."
"Gehenna... Does that mean they're all real demons?"
Elis asked, slumping to the floor.
"No. Seeing with my own eyes, I'm starting to fear defining what a demon even is."
As she said, calling those from the western continent demons meant anyone with a demon mark could become a demon, regardless of race.
And that was the truth of this world: the line between demons and other races wasn't clear-cut. Despite groaning in pain from his injuries, Bulki stayed sharp-minded and asked again.
"How can humans exist in Gehenna? No myth records that, no matter how far you search. How can humans bear demon marks?"
"That might be the price of your Empire monopolizing the Holy Brazier. Humans know nothing of the millennium-old pact not recorded anywhere, right? Unless someone deliberately hid it, our known myths are tangled with too many secrets."
Shainelius had investigated the millennium-old pact between races since losing her brother five years ago. But she found no clues-not even what Eden Sonain had said.
All she'd seen was trees in the forest corrupted, marked, and turned into demons.
"Too early to be sure. The answers are on the roof of the world, right above us."
Shainelius gazed at the iron staircase resuming far at the cave's end and said. Bulki agreed.
"Probably. Tehom's Foreseers, the millennium pact, and the primordial sinners in myth."
Bulki resheathed his sword, pocketed the black gem, and told the group.
"Let's move. We have to pass this trial to uncover the truths hidden by myth."
The Hero's party followed Bulki, each carrying their heavy burdens. But amid countless questions, only heavy silence filled the air. The higher they climbed the iron stairs, the greater the dread-not of enemies appearing, but of facing the truth.
"Holy Brazier..."
What if humans and the Empire truly twisted this world? If we all could become demons? If everything I knew had to be denied?
"No."
Amid the whirlwind of questions, light appeared.
"What in the world is..."
Emerging from the mountain's exit, the Hero's party couldn't help but be astonished.
There, clouds surged as if granted life by gods and Mir. Thick clouds blanketed everything ahead, impossible to see through. Then, far off in the storm, a massive shadow emerged,
"Let's go."
The owner of that looming shadow was this world's forgotten sinner.
They vanished into the storm of truth.
***
The Hero's friend had pondered it from his own small place.
What is a knight? Then what is a demon, the knight's enemy? What defines a demon? And that very question had now reached the Hero.
***
"Ah, Hero, it is Or's knight."
For some reason, in the storm's calm eye without a whisper of wind, the sinner welcomed the Hero's party.
"Are you the sinner forgotten by this world?"
Chillingly long fingers, a face gaunt to the bone. Before the aeons that had passed him by since primordial times, calling the sinner 'alive' was dubious.
His thin body and neck twisted like a dead tree; with those long fingers, he kept crafting something as he spoke.
"Who am I? Who are you?"
He was making a key for shackles binding his arms and legs with some black substance. Strangely, keys he'd already made were piled high around him, tangled and stacked like a black fence imprisoning himself.
"As a sinner, I'must be confined in even deeper abyss."
"Sinner, I am Hero Bulki Sonain, chosen by Goddess Miflas. What is the Holy Brazier, and why are Tehom's Foreseers beneath you?"
"Hero, it is Or of Light, the king Or founded. Your question is misguided."
"Misguided?"
The sinner raised his bony hand, shaking it as if asking Bulki for something.
"Perhaps..."
Bulki handed over the black gem he'd collected after dispatching the pus lump. The sinner snatched it away in a flash and began crafting more keys.
Bulki quickly grasped the meaning. The sinner made keys to unlock his own shackles-using the black gems Tehom's Foreseers carried across the continent to deliver somehow.
The sinner twisted his head grotesquely and asked.
"Young Sonain, do you think you're the first Hero to reach here?"
Every time, Tehom's Foreseers cross with black gems. Every time, the one chosen as Hero by Mir brings it through the storm, just as Bulki did. And every time, the sinner refuses.
"I'must be forgotten by the world."
From within his fence-his self-built prison, barely held by tiny gestures-the sinner looked down at the Hero's party and said.
"Your question is wrong. Who am I?"
Bulki hesitated, then stepped forward and asked.
"Then who are you?"
Only then did the sinner weep tears of blood and answer wretchedly.
"I am the sinner forgotten by all, the one who began all deaths. Or, Hero-even after I speak the truth, can you remain a Hero? Even knowing the primordial truth hidden by false myths, will you free me?"
Bulki couldn't answer, only gazing up at the sinner. And once more, the sinner opened the mouth he shouldn't, spilling the truth.
"In the beginning, there were three great Els. That is a lie. Hero... El was originally one."
This was truly the primordial myth, unrecorded anywhere.
***
In the beginning, El created the heavens and the earth.
El placed three of his creation wills at his feet: Or, the light of birth; Neshef, the fading dawn; and Miflas, the harmony that matched them.
The three wills stood atop five emotions that followed.
Cheret, the Glory Mir symbolizing purification; Yam, the Great Sea Mir of life; Agagthur, the Blazing Mir of evolution; Ets, the Flowing Wind Mir of cycles; and finally, Iveldra, the Dark Mir of eternity.
The great three wills learned emotions through them and soon took form. The wills with bodies mingled with the Mirs and birthed races. All races loved one another, and after a long time, it was good in El's eyes.
But those who worshipped light followed Or, and those who worshipped dawn followed Neshef-there were none who worshipped the harmony already in the world.
Thus, arrogant Miflas, blinded by jealousy, sank into her own abyss.