Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Cultivator
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Anger stripped of justice blazed at the sight of the bizarre plants that had taken root atop the corpses.
"Disgusting."
Gil gave a curt assessment of this vast plain atop the membrane. And small wonder, for in this blood-red expanse, there was nowhere to set foot except on top of the rotting human and beastkin corpses, melting into pools of blood.
The corpses were slick and scorching hot, fed on blood droplets from stalactites formed by sinister sorcery. In this state, the Cultivator planted and sprouted seeds birthed by the offspring of sin.
The germinating demonic sprouts stretched upward like dead branches, growing into long, finger-like tendrils that curled and wove into vines.
When those thin branches curled like leaves, a single unbroken one would bear a black flower. That wriggling black thing was the refined seed produced by the Cultivator.
Pilgrims from Gehenna on the western continent couldn't shatter the boundaries of species without this process, but these refined seeds, grown in the land where Agagtur was sealed, truly held the potential for evolution.
Of course, it all stemmed from the demons' scheme.
"How do you like it, my crop? Seeds of evolution that will shatter the origins of species?"
The Cultivator asked this of Gil with perfect composure.
Gil believed he had become the sword of judgment itself, drawing out his power just as Gaon had instructed. In truth, however, he was the one dominated by the sword. He didn't realize anger had taken control of him, because he no longer truly perceived himself.
He dismissed his racing heart and burning mind as mere excitement from suddenly gaining such power.
This trembling thrill and excitement must be the strength that had overcome Agagtur's proxy. So Gil thought.
But in reality, he had surpassed Agagtur's proxy because he had already been the first in the Hero's party to become a senior knight, because he had gained enlightenment from Gaon's sword, and above all, because he had drawn a new sword named anger.
Anger consumed him, granting unbelievable power and the focus to concentrate on his enemy to the point of forgetting himself.
"I don't care about that."
Unable to perceive himself now, he keenly felt only the enemy's malice. Nothing else mattered. He had no questions about how the seeds were grown on corpses, how they were distributed, how far the experiments had progressed, or whether the beastkin and Godell's humans involved were righteous.
He saw only the enemy before him: the Cultivator.
"As indisputable truth, you die here, demon."
Gil took a heavy step forward. In that instant, every seed around him burst into flame and screamed. The ground built from these corpses literally burned away with horrific shrieks. The Cultivator watched in agony but recited his unalterable role in the tale.
"Y-You can't kill me. My king said my role doesn't end here. Great knight of the empire, I'must lead you."
But Gil no longer cared about anything.
"No. You die with your sins."
Gil raised his sword and ignited his anger once more. Though distance separated them, the heat from his hostile swing would incinerate the Cultivator and everything he had cultivated.
"I-I completed the experiment. Now beastkin will have human lifespans..."
"Die."
Anger.
Boom!
But just before Gil could swing, something blocked him, rendering his hand immobile.
"Y-You must stop, lumpy knight."
"The one you need to burn isn't him, knight."
Vyson blocked with all his might, while Gaon aimed an invisible blade.
"Remember what I said? I'm handling the Cultivator."
"What scheme have you been hiding?"
Gil didn't even glance at Vyson as he asked Gaon. He still hadn't lowered his sword. He could repel Vyson and swing right now. He was certain even Gaon couldn't defeat him in this state.
But the justice he had nearly lost drew a faint breath at Vyson's voice.
He had no right to reject this beastkin knight's intervention. Judgment on the Cultivator belonged to Vyson.
Not Gaon.
"Ah, don't look at me like that. I will kill the Cultivator. But I need to find and uproot the offspring of sin he possesses first. Otherwise, this tragedy will repeat elsewhere, not just in Godell, right? Calm down and hand him over. We need to go to Agagtur."
One reason for handling everything simultaneously: if they let the Cultivator go now, he would spread seeds elsewhere.
Gaon sought to prevent that by seizing the root-the offspring of sin.
"We must stop that, knight."
Vyson said, barely holding up his shield. He had believed Gil would guide his justice, but in truth, he was the one drawing out Gil's. In that moment, the power in Gil's sword eased.
"He committed a capital crime, no doubt. But he says he completed the experiment-I can't let that slip away. I'll watch him closely. Give me just a little time. I'll keep guard."
Only then did Vyson sheath his sword and look to Gaon. Gaon too had fought hard and craved rest, but the revolution's end was near.
"Don't move. Have the Cultivator unseal the sorcery to the underground Lord's Tower, seize his lab, then head to the Lord's chamber below. Agagtur's lava cave entrance is down there."
At Gaon's words, Vyson approached the Cultivator. Gaon watched him subdue the man, then eyed the passage Gil had carved on his ascent.
They could fall straight down, but surely the Cultivator had a safer way. Gaon turned back to him.
"Whatever sorcery it is, unseal the way down from here..."
"No. That is not my justice."
But Gil could not accept it. He swung his sword high.
Anger.
"You idiot! Run, beastkin knight!"
"Damn it!"
Boom!
Gil slammed his sword into the cursed cultivation chamber. The thread-thin branches and seeds unworthy of being called plants vanished into ash in an instant, and the corpse-mingled muck of the ground melted without a scream. Overwhelmed by the explosive flames that burst like living things, the membrane supporting the chamber ruptured. Ash erupted like snow from above.
"Heh, unbelievable."
Gaon chuckled wryly mid-fall, admiring the spectacular sight, then turned to Vyson.
"M-My children!"
"Shut up!"
Vyson clamped one arm around the writhing, screaming Cultivator's waist and extended his broken arm to lay his sword beneath his feet-bracing for the impending impact.
"Hold on tight!"
But he never hit the ground. Gil, having burned the cultivation chamber, descended faster than the falling flames, catching Gaon and Vyson. Fortunately, his blazing eyes had cooled a bit from incinerating the chamber.
"I didn't mention burning the cultivation chamber, so that should be fine, right?"
"Of course."
Gaon grabbed Gil in return. Gil ignited flames at his toes instead of his sword, suspending them in the air. The sudden halt could have snapped their gripped arms from the recoil, but both Gaon and Vyson could endure it.
Gil landed safely on the first floor of the Lord's Tower. As soon as his feet touched ground, Vyson spoke to Gil without even noticing his rolling sword.
"Well done, knight! But you should've said something!"
Gil clapped his shoulder hard in reply.
"You worked hard holding me back, young knight Vyson."
He was sincerely grateful to Vyson.
Even when intoxicated by power and numb to all else, Vyson's voice had undoubtedly stopped him. Moreover, he could sense how much anger Vyson, leader of a beastkin tribe and pack, was suppressing-and how hard he labored to think of what was truly right amid it all-far more than a mere human like himself.
"Alright, looks like things on Godell's surface are mostly wrapped up."
As Gil and Vyson shared that moment of understanding, Gaon yanked the Cultivator by the scruff and continued.
"Now for the real counter-revolution. Hey, open that quick. The offspring of sin is in your lab, right? Your king won't come up there. He's probably lost his mind from the experiments."
The lab where experiments occurred had been guarded by Agagtur's old proxy, but the underground Cultivator's research room was sealed by sorcery, needing no guards. And surely the source spreading the seeds-the offspring of sin-was there.
The Cultivator raised both hands in resignation, picked up the queen's corpse scattered nearby amid the debris, and undid the sorcery as he spoke.
"Th-The king I serve is not the Lord."
He moved as if fearing his king more than those who sought his death. Slowly, down the endless dark underground passage stairs.
"It was my master's will to plant the offspring of sin in the Lord."