The End of a Hero's Epic
Decades had passed since Zumito first began poring over those records.
The jungle he once called home—or rather, the ideal creatures Mitomok had created—were now under his command. He had fortified the island in the river where the old capital once stood, turning it into an impregnable stronghold that the Dessert Legion could never reach.
He had grown stronger, too. After ascending to the rank of narrative entity, he honed his mastery of the mystic arts while struggling through the wilds. Eventually he evolved beyond even that, becoming an Ascendant who had completely transcended the limits of his species.
These days he was less of a slingshot master and more of a jack-of-all-trades hero: mystic scholar, architect, and beast tamer rolled into one.
Honestly, as a high-tier entity he was a failure. He had no single overwhelming specialty—just a little bit of everything.
But Zumito seemed to like himself just fine this way.
Even so, he was now an 8th-level narrative unique Ascendant. In terms of raw power, he ranked fifth in my entire ecosystem. First place belonged to the fourth legion commander I was still creating. Second was Yogur-tosoth. Third, Shuc-rimmurath. Fourth, Nyaltartep. And fifth—Zumito. Even a jack-of-all-trades becomes terrifying once the level is high enough.
He had also asked me to create or evolve suitable beasts of burden to help him move materials, so I provided some. He was delighted when I gave him the bison that had lived in Ogolraeot’s world, along with several modified variants.
Zumito seemed determined to rebuild the city from scratch. He restacked fallen stones, restored collapsed sections, carved new sculptures, and slowly inscribed the history of his people across every surface. Thanks to the efforts of a single individual, both the Culture and Mystic scores of the region climbed steadily.
The capital where Zumito resided had escaped Yogur-tosoth’s destruction. It became a sanctuary of old altars dedicated to forgotten gods and a land where history still lingered.
He continued devouring history and knowledge in the library, meticulously carving the past of a race he himself had never fully known. He built the city upward with stacked stone, engraving proof that his people had once existed. He even strengthened the connection to the Great Boundary so that his records might reach into the afterlife itself.
Another century slipped by. They say that high-tier entities neither go mad from living too long nor grow weary of life. Was that true?
Despite the endless years, Zumito kept his back straight and his spirit unbroken. He remodeled the city so beasts could live comfortably within it, and in the great central plaza he erected massive stelae. On them he recorded the full history of his race, the deeds of every hero who had ever lived.
Legacy of the Last Chronicler
📍 Result: A single survivor restored an entire ruined capital and engraved the complete history, culture, and heroic deeds of his extinct race.
🎁 Reward: Promotion to Legendary Entity • Massive Culture bonus • Permanent historical sanctuary established
「The narrative entity ‘Zumito’ has successfully completed the feat of leaving behind a legendary legacy.」
「‘Zumito’s rank rises. He becomes a legendary entity. The city he restored and the complete culture and history of a vanished race that he preserved will remain in this world for a very, very long time.」
The Culture bonus granted by a legendary legacy was on another level.
Even if Zumito died now, I could revive him as long as I invested the resources. And if members of his race ever returned to this city, they would inherit its full history and could rebuild their civilization from where it had left off.
“Is that so.”
I offered my sincere praise. It really was an incredible feat. Like the old tale of the foolish old man who moved mountains—through sheer human effort, one could carve paths through stone itself.
There had once been a man in India named Dashrath Manjhi. After losing his wife because he could not get her to a hospital in time, he spent twenty-two years chiseling away at a mountain with nothing but a pickaxe. In the end he carved a road straight through the rock so no one else would suffer the same fate.
That was the very essence of human will. A living being spending an entire lifetime grinding down an immovable boulder until the impossible was achieved.
Zumito had done the same. The system itself had recognized his deed by granting him legendary status.
I looked forward to what he would do next.
But Zumito simply stopped moving. He stood motionless, as if something inside him had broken.
Then the tears began to fall.
“Hic… Hiccup…”
“Now… there is nothing left I can do for my people or my gods…!”
The completion of a great undertaking is the completion of a life.
The old man who spent decades hammering at a mountain despite being called insane had finished his life’s work and found closure.
Countless people now traveled the road that bore his name, crossing the mountain with ease. In that sense, his life had been fulfilled. I didn’t know for sure, but perhaps when he died he had no regrets.
Yet even after achieving his goal, Zumito was forced to continue living for all eternity.
In a world with no remaining members of his race, no one to read his writings, no one to interpret them, and no possibility of rebuilding or prospering his civilization, he had to endure endless time.
So this was where the epic of that great, legendary superhuman came to an end.
Zumito looked up at me with trembling eyes, sobbing. It wasn’t the passage of eons that broke him—it was the conclusion he had finally reached at their end.
Even the game that prevented wear from the passage of time could not protect him from this.
“With my mystic arts… can I resurrect my dead people?”
“O God. Then… could you recreate my race for me?”
“Then can you bring back the members of my race who left for other worlds?”
“Could you evolve the creatures you call Sugar Lumps so they can understand the legacy I have left behind?”
“Please… O God.”
My clone in charge of humanity spoke with calm detachment.
“Hic… ugh…”
Zumito sniffled, snot and tears running down his face.
“If I am sold to another world… will you protect the legacy of my people that I created here?”
I will not go out of my way to destroy it, but I will not go out of my way to protect it either. [TRUTH VERIFIED]
“Then… there are only three paths left for me? To command countless beasts and guard this place for eternity. To be sold off to another world. Or to cooperate with you.”
“When is the next collision?”
At that answer, Zumito fell into utter despair.
“And there is no guarantee you will lose.”
Zumito asked with the desperation of a man standing at the edge of suicide. One wrong answer and he really might kill himself.
“What exactly do you want from me?”
…….
“Why didn’t you stop me? Why didn’t you just sell me off? Why didn’t you send your monsters to attack me? Why did you leave me alone to repeat these meaningless tasks until I finally reached the end—until only infinite emptiness and futility remained?
Did you think that if you left me be, I would eventually cooperate with you?
No! Even now, I don’t have the slightest desire to cooperate with you!
If anything, if I could, I would kill you right this instant and offer you as a sacrifice for my people!
So why do you keep me alive? It would be better if you just let me die!”
Well. I suppose this is how I should answer.
“What?”
“That’s not true! I had a clear purpose—to leave behind the will and spirit of my race…”
And so the Demon King asked the final question.
A goal achieved after grueling labor, hardship, and tribulation. Now that he no longer had a destination in life, what choice would Zumito make?
For a long time Zumito kept his head bowed in deep contemplation. At last, he slowly opened his mouth.
“Then you must be the same as me.”
Hm?
“You too are wandering lost within a ruined solitude. In a reality with no hope or salvation, you cling to the belief that something will provide an answer, building and struggling just to keep living.”
…….
When he put it that way, it was very—very—hard to refute.
Zumito closed his eyes.
It was not the gesture of a resigned man turning away from a despairing world. It was the act of someone harboring a clear will, calmly observing himself.
I could have accelerated his perceived time as much as I wanted, but I simply waited for him to reach his conclusion. My legs didn’t get tired anyway, so it didn’t matter.
How much time had passed? Perhaps not very long at all. Logically speaking, it couldn’t have been more than the time between one meal and the next.
But to him, it must have felt like eternity.
Zumito opened his eyes.
“I have found my answer.”
I see. I’m envious.