Ch.187Life and Death (1)

Llewellyn stared blankly at the bizarre creature below.

Though he was clearly looking down at it, strangely, it didn’t feel like he was looking down—rather, it felt as if he were kneeling and looking up at this monster.

He understood intellectually that this must be the God of Life and Death. It couldn’t be anything else.

It was the only being standing in that outer demon realm, while everything else had been reduced to bone fragments, monsters whose original forms were no longer recognizable.

But Llewellyn couldn’t answer immediately.

The moment he looked at that being, hatred and disgust boiled up from deep in his gut.

One emotion clearly wasn’t his own, but the other definitely was.

The hatred was certainly a sentiment bestowed by the mourning of his “father.”

The Steward had said he despised them.

On the other hand, he had called them sinners. Llewellyn thought this was believable since it came from the God of Dreams.

Of course, he could understand to some extent. Having just merged bodies with his sister, Llewellyn could comprehend it somewhat.

What he couldn’t understand was how that resulted in their bodies completely becoming one, and furthermore, how that became a sin for which they were imprisoned.

What on earth had happened?

Is incomprehensibility the nature of divinity?

Even as he pondered, Llewellyn continued to look down at the deity.

After analyzing the hatred, disgust remained.

Llewellyn contemplated this disgust.

Why did he loathe this God of Life and Death?

The reason was quite simple. Because of how it looked, and how it was designed to provoke such feelings.

The God of Life and Death stood upright like a human, but had few other similarities to humans.

Its skin wasn’t the soft, elastic flesh characteristic of humans. Rather, it would be more accurate to call it an insect’s carapace—hard and repulsive in form.

Yet it wasn’t an exoskeleton. Muscles were visible inside. The glimpses of bright red flesh writhing beneath evoked the same disgust as watching an insect’s movements.

A form that seemed to combine the most repulsive aspects of both humans and insects.

Still, Llewellyn thought it might have been better if its limbs had resembled insect appendages.

The arms and legs attached to the God of Life and Death’s torso were entirely human.

Two pairs of arms and legs, all human in form. Though covered in carapace, their uncanny abundance inspired disgust.

And then there was the way it spoke—not through a mouth or even nostrils, but through the open top part where a skull should be.

Human Yoon Sejin felt instinctive revulsion at the sight.

Yet beyond human disgust, something else remained—something only the god Llewellyn could perceive.

Llewellyn’s brain measured the sensations. He gauged and calculated the divinity touching his body.

The result was clear.

This being contained both the beauty and ugliness of death and life.

It wasn’t intentional. Llewellyn didn’t know this, but the God of Dreams understood well.

Divinity isn’t composed according to one’s own will, but changes according to one’s deeds and worship.

The sun, always brightly burning in the sky and bestowing grace upon all humans, is the strongest object of faith.

And just as the sun became the King of Gods who mastered knowledge after a kingdom using the sun as its symbol established universities and spread knowledge at sunrise.

A god’s name and role were sometimes more important than their deeds.

So it wasn’t according to one’s own will. In an era where death was close and life devalued, it was natural that life and death would take on repulsive forms.

The nobility of death, along with the instinctive fear it inspires.

And the twisted yet beautiful aspects of life as well.

All these existed within this deity. Which aspect was more intense was obvious.

Beauty normally shines brighter amidst filth and ugliness, but when completely overwhelmed, it’s a different story.

“Are you… talking to me?”

He couldn’t even think of an answer. To buy time, Llewellyn said whatever came to mind, and Life and Death did not respond.

Even speaking seemed terribly painful for it. Arba watched the scene tensely, and the soldiers were visibly on edge.

An unidentified monster. Communication is possible.

“Is it… speaking to you?”

But no one except Llewellyn could understand that language.

Without the blessing of language, that was inevitable.

Llewellyn didn’t dwell on this fact. He himself was unaware of his ability to hear others as he wished to hear them, and to have whatever he said transform into the language others wished to hear.

Llewellyn grimly gripped the castle wall from where he stood. A small crumbling sound echoed.

The monster vanished.

“Steward, I ask you again.”

Llewellyn froze at the voice coming from right beside him.

He didn’t need to turn his head. A long, large arm flickered at the edge of his vision.

“Do you still hate me?”

His body stiffened. Hatred and disgust welled up.

Beyond that, fear. The uniquely human emotion of facing something incomprehensible.

Though Llewellyn had survived countless brushes with death and steeled his resolve with laughter, this was the first time he truly faced death.

The rest had all been clouded by reason. Llewellyn unconsciously held his breath.

“Child, child of the sun. Me…”

“Anomaly manifesting.”

A voice beyond reason suddenly rang out.

“Star Flame.”

With a thunderous boom, flames erupted.

Llewellyn’s body staggered momentarily, and flames that felt warm lashed against his skin.

Only then could he turn his head. The God of Life and Death was no longer in the spot Llewellyn had been staring at.

There was only the flame that had burst forth momentarily. Black soot remained where it had cleared.

And his sister descending upon it.

“Sejin, are you okay?!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I’m…”

And the deity? Turning his head, Llewellyn saw the God of Life and Death outside the castle wall. The god stood unwavering, not fallen.

It took in both Llewellyn and Lucilla with its gaze, perplexed.

“Two Stewards?”

After those words, it spoke no more. It was impossible to know what it wanted or intended to do. But Llewellyn felt he couldn’t just stand there blankly.

He had to fight. No, was fighting the right choice?

Was he sufficiently prepared? He didn’t know. Above all, he didn’t know how the opponent fought or what kind of being it was. As Llewellyn hesitated, raising his thumb to draw in the air—

“Wait!”

He stopped at the strangely masculine voice coming from a woman.

The sound of soldiers holding their breath followed.

Their reaction was like seeing a severed head speak on its own. Llewellyn saw Ortemilia rushing over with a head in her hands.

“Stop this fight, you reckless ones!”

Crimson eyes and crimson hair. A band wrapped across the head, shaped conveniently for hanging at the waist.

A magical item Llewellyn himself had asked to be made for carrying.

A god speaking properly without lungs or vocal cords below the neck, inside that band.

A dreamlike scene straight out of a nightmare.

As Arba and even the soldiers froze—

“God of Dreams. You’ve gotten smaller.”

The God of Life and Death said.

“Lost weight?”

Despite the joke-like remark, the God of Dreams made a face of disgust with varied expressions.

It wasn’t a joke.

But after that, it showed no particular words or actions.

Originally, it was uncertain whether one could see even if they tried.

The way it had climbed onto the castle wall earlier was an acceleration that even Llewellyn, with his 22 points of agility allowing him to sense most actions with his eyes and senses, couldn’t perceive.

It was natural to think that some kind of divinity might be at work.

Meanwhile, Lucilla sighed softly beside him.

“It’s unharmed even after taking Star Flame. Sejin, we need to be careful.”

Star Flame. Though he wasn’t sure of its firepower, being an anomaly manifestation, he thought it must be extraordinary.

Yet there wasn’t a single wound.

Because it was the God of Life. Llewellyn wondered how exactly that worked as he heightened his tension.

Just as he was raising his hand, thinking he should draw his sword—

“Fight?”

The skull split open as the God of Life and Death spoke.

The deity turned around in confusion, looking behind. Its gaze met only the endless horizon and the dreary demon realm.

“Who?”

A voice of incomprehension. Llewellyn blinked and blankly looked back at the God of Dreams.

The God of Dreams wore a stunned expression, as if aghast.

That alone revealed what kind of being this deity was.

*

The conversation took place outside the castle wall.

In the middle of the dreary, black, death-like demon realm.

This was unavoidable. The God of Life and Death had confirmed itself to be a being that inherently evoked human disgust, so Llewellyn had to meet it privately, away from people’s eyes.

And the God of Life and Death, thus met in private, was something quite different from its impression.

Not human, and dull. Not perceptive either.

But the divinity and power overflowing from its body acted like a mighty storm in itself.

It gave the feeling of a storm personified. That meant danger.

Facing such danger alone made Llewellyn feel twisted and anxious.

He kept his thumb raised to draw out his sword, Starswarm, at any moment, but he wasn’t sure if he could respond in time if that thing tried to do something.

So Llewellyn tried not to go against its intentions as much as possible…

But the God of Life and Death seemed to have no intentions to speak of.

Face to face, the uneasiness he felt became articulated.

It was closer to a plant in human form.

Even the hardened skin covering its exterior resembled not an insect’s carapace but a plant’s bark.

Something alive yet dead. Something actually alive but perceived as dead by the ignorant and unenlightened.

A truly fitting appearance. As Llewellyn realized this, the God of Life and Death met his eyes.

Its incomprehension toward humans was the same. Llewellyn thought of it as a giant plant with will, and calmly considered.

“Steward.”

The head splits open. The metallic voice emerges again.

A strange voice neither female nor male. Llewellyn barely suppressed the twitch of his fingers as he faced the god.

“I ask you again.”

The god addressed Llewellyn patiently and calmly.

“Do you still hate me?”

A persistent question from before. It feels as if there’s something else it wants beyond that.

That’s why Llewellyn rarely answered honestly.

Though he felt disgust, and though the entity called “father” in the sky above constantly whispered to hate it—

Separately from that, he simply couldn’t understand what intention lay behind the question.

It wasn’t something he could answer hastily. He couldn’t even guess what it wanted.

So after hesitating, Llewellyn sighed.

“I cannot answer. I don’t know what you want.”

The God of Life and Death stared blankly at Llewellyn before opening its mouth.

What words would come out, what would it propose, what surprise attack might it launch?

Llewellyn, tense, looked at the crack opened in the skull.

“You were right.”

He paused at the remorseful voice that flowed out.

“We should never have been together.”

From where he stood, trying to discern its true intentions, the God of Life and Death earnestly wished:

“Return us to our original forms, as the God of Life and the God of Death.”

To reunite with a lover.