Chapter 373

Ȓｅａɗ οｎ ＫɑṫЯҽаⅾ​ıɴɡСαｆҽ

To the king, the world is a book.

A book read and reread.

A tiresome book he wrote himself, reviewing, revising, memorizing every single letter.

He knows which sentence is on which page without even thinking, so there’s no meaning, value, or interest left in reading it.

The insidious thing is, he has no other entertainment besides that book.

Bael has only one book, and the world is contained within it.

He can’t find other reading material.

Because even that “other thing” is already included in the book.

That’s why Bael has no interest in reality.

The reason he sits on the throne and idly dreams is because there’s nothing else to do in the first place.

Omniscience and omnipotence.

Knowing everything.

Being able to do everything.

Ironically, becoming unable to do anything.

A contradictory, incompetent king.

That was the reality of the King of Devil Gods.

300 years ago.

Bael had an interest for the first time.

The Hero.

The God-slaying sword created by the four seasons.

The Chosen One who shattered Bael’s predictions head-on for the first time.

For the first time, the future changed.

For the first time, his eyes were opened.

For the first time, he shook off his drowsiness.

For the first time, he felt clear emotions.

For the first time. And for the first time.

A character in the book jumped out of the book. He couldn’t predict it. How was that possible? His predictions were repeatedly wrong. 

What is this? What should this emotion be called? What are you? Why are you deviating from the future I drew? The drawing moves on its own. The letters change on their own.

The future is painted over with the unknown. No matter how solid a building is, it will collapse if the foundation is eroded. Bael’s solid future collapsed.

Anticipation.

For the first time, Bael felt anticipation.

“I don’t know.”

He was interested in not knowing the future.

Yoo-seong. Bael’s nemesis. What other unknown will he show? Once again. Can he repaint the predicted future? You. Again. What will you show me? Show me. Once again. The future you painted.

But anticipation turned into disappointment. Yoo-seong was defeated by Astaroth. 

In the end, he couldn’t escape the predicted fate. He couldn’t help but feel regret. If he had used his full power. If he hadn’t cared about the surrounding damage. He could have won. 

Even though Bael had predicted that he would go through this process and be defeated, he couldn’t help but be disappointed. No, that’s why he was even more disappointed.

His nemesis betrayed his expectations.

The greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment.

Bael could no longer be interested in the world.

In the end, this is the conclusion.

There’s no need to see the process.

Disappointed, Bael lost interest and skipped through time.

Turning the pages of the book, he opened the last chapter.

It’s not that he accelerated time.

He skipped the intermediate process itself and derived only the result.

Originally, this is the end.

Bael opened the last chapter.

The world also reaches the last chapter.

The characters in the book don’t even know that the process has been omitted.

The future drawn by the King is the victory of the monsters.

He brought forward the result.

Humans are defeated, and the monsters reclaim the lost paradise.

Happy ending, happy ending.

Various comedies and tragedies unfolded in the omitted process, but Bael, who already knew everything, was not interested.

Thus, the long battle came to an end.

Bael closed his eyes again in futility.

Waiting for someone who will bring the unknown again someday.

…That’s how it should have been.

If the four seasons hadn’t intervened.

Autumn took the risk and nullified Bael’s authority.

Forcibly returning the already turned page.

The omitted process returned to its place, and everything returned to the beginning.

As the creator who created the Chosen One, Yoo-seong, she reproduced the creation’s ability.

However, even if she reproduced Yoo-seong’s ability, she was not as good as Yoo-seong. Of course. 

In terms of simple force alone, the Chosen One surpasses even the four seasons. Although the four seasons are the creator who created the Chosen One, the Chosen One’s special field was an area that was difficult for the four seasons to invade.

As a result, Bael’s power remained in the world.

The omitted traces were etched like indelible scars.

However, no one recognizes that fact. Even the transcendent devils will not realize it. It was a phenomenon that only Bael, who skipped through time, and the four seasons, who turned it back, could recognize.

[…]

But here.

A variable occurred.

An unintentional coincidence.

[Truly… truly unforgettable.]

The Godlike One.

Michael sighed briefly.

[The feeling of a single existence transcending cognition, transforming the world.]

Michael descended with Azazel’s supernatural power.

His lifespan has already expired and he lost his body.

His soul was torn to pieces.

Compared to his prime, he has only a fraction of his power.

But he was closer to God than anyone else in the world.

A transcendent being closer to God than the false gods that are the Devil Gods.

[Lord of Purgatory.]

There was an undisguised tremor in the voice that murmured.

If he had a body now, he would have acted without realizing it.

One step back.

His shoulders twitching.

And everyone who saw that scene would say.

The Godlike One.

The greatest hero.

Was trembling with fear.

[Bael, is that you?]

But that was only for a moment.

Michael skillfully shook off his fear.

Diluting instinctive fear with cold reason.

“Bael?”

[Azazel, this is a belated warning, but don’t carelessly utter that name.]

“Why? You’re saying it just fine?”

[I’m fine. But you’re not.]

“?”

If you carelessly speak the name of a being like Bael, Bael’s gaze may turn to you.

It was fatal to Azazel, who summons divine beings, let alone other supernaturals.

Just a brief glance from Bael entangles causality.

Once entangled, causality cannot be easily broken, so it’s better to be careful in advance.

[More than that, are you okay?]

“Huh? What?”

[Hmm, haven’t you noticed yet.]

“What?”

Notice? What? Azazel didn’t know what was going on, but she put it out of her mind for now. 

This was not the time for that. She finally met Riel. The child she had been looking for. All that was left was to beat up that Ereshkigal or whatever she was called and save Riel.

“…Huh?”

But Azazel, who raised her head and looked ahead, could only make a blank sound.

Clearly, until just now.

Just a few seconds ago.

There was one monster and one human in front of her.

The monster, Ereshkigal. The Knight Leader, Johan.

And when she closed her eyes and opened them, no one was to be seen.

For some reason, her whole body hurt rapidly. Originally, her body was aching as if it would break as a result of using Michael’s power excessively. 

But in those few seconds, the pain swelled up rapidly like an inflated balloon. At that moment, she bit her lip to block the scream that was about to burst out.

“What, this, what…?”

Words won’t come out.

Thoughts won’t connect properly.

Azazel belatedly realized that she was covered in blood.

Half of it was her own blood. It was red.

And half of it was someone else’s blood. She felt a curse.

A deathly aura that seemed to burn flesh just by touching it.

“It hurts? Huh? What is it? No, what is it?”

When did she get so injured? Her body is heavy. Her small body was as heavy as a ton. Like a water-soaked cotton ball. She was tired. She didn’t understand. She didn’t remember. As if she had skipped the process and only pulled in the result.

[It’s the work of the King of Devil Gods. Perhaps he accelerated time… no, rather, did he delete time?]

“What does that…”

The domain of light that Michael created to protect humans.

The divine power to declare this place as Michael’s territory and protect the people within that territory.

Due to that influence, there were some people inside the barrier who recognized the sudden change. Ordinary supernaturals only felt a small sense of incongruity, but the captain-level supernaturals were able to recognize a clear anomaly.

[If the King of Devil Gods had intervened directly… no, if that were the case, everything would have already been concluded. He wouldn’t have ended it so clumsily. Then…]

“Wait a minute. Don’t get lost in your own thoughts and explain it to me. What, what happened…?”

[I understand. But before that.]

Michael paused for a moment, then sighed and said.

[Save those children first. They’ll die if you leave them like that.]

“Huh…?”

Save? Who?

As if to answer Azazel’s question, her head moved on its own.

Borrowing her body, Michael stared at one place.

There was a black-haired young man panting. Kneeling on one knee, he was barely able to avoid falling by supporting himself with the holy sword.

Sword Saint.

It was Johan.

Azazel’s eyes widened. He was completely half-dead. He looked like he was about to breathe his last. Who attacked him to put him in that state? 

Azazel, who was about to rush to Johan, stopped abruptly. It was because of Johan’s sharp eyes. He didn’t have the strength to hold the holy sword right now, but if he did, he looked like he would aim it at Azazel.

“What, what is it? That look…?”

“…Hoo, are you back to your senses now?”

“Huh? Senses?”

“That’s fine. I think I know from that expression.”

Johan collapsed to the floor as if he had used his last strength.

Azazel was dumbfounded, but she couldn’t leave him alone, so she hurried over.

“Who… who did this? How could a swordsman like you be attacked until you were in this state…?”

“I know, right? How long has it been since I’ve been so messed up? Was it when I was beaten to a pulp by my teacher in the name of training?”

“Is this the time to joke?”

“I want to return those words to you?”

Johan raised his head weakly. He forced open his eyes, which seemed to close at any moment, and spat out as if chewing.

“It was you. You’re the one who put me in this state.”

“Hey, is your head okay? Are you so injured that you’re losing your mind?”

“…Ha.”

Johan scoffed at Azazel’s question.

His distorted expression clearly showed that he was genuinely dumbfounded.

“Shouldn’t you thank me first? I barely stopped you from making an irreversible mistake.”

“…”

Coming this far, even Azazel was starting to get a sense of things.

The suddenly changed surrounding situation.

The clearly existing blank in her memory.

The pain of the wounds felt all over her body.

And even Johan’s reaction.

If you put them together one by one, a plausible guess was made.

“What, what did I do?”

“…”

In response to the question she spat out with slightly trembling lips, Johan pointed to one place without answering. 

Forcing his stiff neck, he moved his gaze to that place. Immediately after, the blood completely disappeared from Azazel’s face. Her face, as white as a corpse left for a long time, was stained with shock.

“You did it.”

In the direction Johan was pointing.

There was a woman drowning in blood.

With all her limbs torn off.

Barely clinging to life.

As if slowly drowning in the pool of blood she shed.

“…Riel?”

“So now, put down what you’re holding. It’s scary.”

“Huh?”

Only after hearing that did Azazel realize that she was holding something.

The moment she realized it, Azazel swallowed her breath.

Otherwise, she would have let out a tearing scream.

The still dripping chunks of meat.

The arms and legs that had been attached to someone’s body until just now.

Azazel turned her head with a stutter like a broken clockwork doll.

She put the woman drowning in the pool of blood back in her eyes.

“Ah.”, she said.

In the end, Azazel had to let out a silent scream.

Author Note

A/N (Author’s note):
…Hahaha.

Long time no see.
How have you all been?

As for me, well…
I could say “So much happened, I’m really exhausted”
But that would just be making excuses, so I’ll skip that.

Truthfully, I only had about 3 weeks where work was so busy that I couldn’t write.
I was so swamped I couldn’t even think about writing then.
But after that, I did have time to write.

But you know what?
Once I stopped writing, it became really hard to start again.
The words wouldn’t come, I had no motivation.
I could see the views and recommendations gradually dropping.
I started wondering, “Is my story not interesting anymore?”

Writing is supposed to be my hobby, something I do for enjoyment.
But at some point, writing stopped being fun.
Forced.
Yes, writing became forced.
That was last chapter.

Writing under pressure – that’s not a hobby at all.
So I ended up putting it down completely.
“I’ll resume the series someday, someday…”
I kept thinking that without acting.

Then it suddenly hit me:
“If I don’t update by today, I’ll really have to discontinue it.”
Because starting tomorrow, real life will get busy again and I won’t have time to write.
If I let go now, I think I’d really give up for good.
That thought scared me.

So I started writing anyway and…
Wait, it’s actually coming out well?
Huh? What? Why is a complete chapter done already?
I didn’t force it – the words just flowed naturally.
Maybe I’m the type who needs deadline pressure?
Hmm.

I’ve been rambling a lot, but
The conclusion is:
I’ll return with the next chapter as soon as I have time!

Translator Note

T/N (Translator’s note):
Wouldn’t it be funny if the author knows of the translation and is actually waiting for it to catch up to continue writing?

It’s just speculation and cope though…