Ch.20668. I simply can’t face you with any dignity.

She fell.

Just as the branch was about to break, the rope snapped first.

After hanging a rope on a tree and placing the noose around her neck,

The troubled, hesitant girl throws herself toward the ground.

She struggles instinctively for a moment.

It seems the rope wasn’t in good condition.

The makeshift noose, tied from stems, looked terribly flimsy even at a glance.

“Cough! Cough!”

The girl coughing violently was as white as snow.

Her hair, eyebrows, eyes, and skin color.

That’s why the blue attire she wore stood out so starkly.

A ceremonial robe seemingly made from gathered luxurious materials.

Eventually, lying on the ground and looking up at the pale, snowy sky, the girl sensed a presence and painfully tilted her head to the side.

“󰕃󰔷󰔣ֻ󰚝󰙥󰙄῍”

“󰔷󰔣ֻ῍󰔢ץאּ”

An incomprehensible language.

Similar words flowed from the girl’s mouth as well.

Naturally, as an observer, there was no way to understand what those words meant.

The girl, now helped to her feet, surrendered herself to the men’s support and escort.

Crunch, crunch.

Her cold bare feet left modest tracks in the steadily accumulating snow.

……

From countless scenes, I understood that the civilization of this era or world where the girl lived was distinctly different from our own.

Even there, the girl occupied an extremely special position.

I’d guess she was among those placed at the highest positions in the country.

Their lives were constant struggle and war.

Once weak, they resisted and fought desperately to survive.

In an age where survival was proof of strength, their power inevitably grew.

But.

The snow-white girl constantly wandered around bloodstains, rotting corpses,

And swarms of insects that outnumbered them hundreds of times over.

A soul wandering endlessly, lost and dazed.

There were neither enemies nor allies.

Neither kin nor heretics.

…Only pitiful, wretched souls remained.

Embracing these souls together, she once again moved toward a tree where snow had piled high.

And then.

Taking out a small, bronze-colored blade.

This time, she slit her throat.

As blood gushed out, the girl who spilled her blood onto the white snow

Collapsed like a lifeless corpse, staining the white snowfall red, again and again.

……Days passed like that.

The girl struggled to get back on her feet.

Once again, some men approached and supported her.

…The girl, bearing both condemnation and praise, was in constant agony.

Then one day.

A god descended.

It all began from that very tree to which the girl had been dedicating herself.

A branch fell from the sky and landed on the ground.

It remained connected to the sky, making its height and size impossible to estimate.

And that fallen branch, by intertwining with the tree she had been devoted to and making offerings to, transformed into something else entirely unknown.

The deity spoke.

Offer blood.

Blood.

Blood.

Your faith. Your soul. Your flesh. Your devotion. Your dedication. Your heart. Your neighbor. Your love. Your family. Your kin. Your friends. Your compatriots. Your race. Your people.

Everything good and bad.

Without exception. Without remainder.

From afar, it seemed like part of a struggle for racial survival.

But up close, it must have been despair and frustration in itself.

There was no individual there.

Only a self that existed for everyone.

The girl was the same.

So she too, willingly, was the first to sacrifice her life.

The girl who could not die died again and again, without rest, until she could no longer die.

As a result, the world was saved at least once.

They achieved salvation once.

But protecting the world didn’t mean preserving their race and lives.

The great tree eventually split in two, with one returning to the sky and one to the earth.

After countless ages passed, the souls bound to the tree were given life again and took root on the ground.

…The tree was a kind of ark, it seems.

The one commonly mentioned in myths.

From there, countless lives were granted existence.

The first fairy was born… around that time.

With that, worlds began to merge.

As if pieces of a shattered world were coming together, one by one.

It was much later when other life forms, races besides fairies, came to face them.

Exchange and harmony.

Struggle and conquest.

…And war again.

Great beings, transcendents, godlike entities who encouraged and promoted this.

And those who carried out their teachings and will.

There was no salvation or paradise there.

The salvation the girl had initially hoped and promised for.

……It was all a lie.

Ah, if I had known the world would be like this, would I have needed to be so desperate?

Right after that doubt arose.

That voice was heard.

The voice.

From far away.

From a distant, far-off place.

From an existence that shouldn’t exist.

It promised neither salvation nor redemption nor paradise.

But consistently.

……Only extinction and destruction.

Where neither pain nor anguish could arise.

Infinite extinction.

Pure destruction.

It whispered.

====

And all that remained was a pale world with sparse, slowly falling snow, before a small, somehow familiar tree.

At that place, she, in the form of a girl, was speaking in a monotone voice as if talking to herself.

“In your terms, it would be right to say I made a deal with the devil.”

The pale girl I had seen earlier was now speaking in a language I could understand.

“Struggle and competition. Endless fighting. War. We cannot escape this cursed cycle.”

“……”

“So there’s no other way but to find salvation through destruction.”

“So you seek destruction, the annihilation of all?”

“That’s right.”

“But surely the master of the world wouldn’t want that?”

“…Perhaps they want us to overcome the trial of destruction. Alternatives and preparations must be in place for that too. You already know, don’t you?”

“You mean my sister?”

Objectively, this might be a cruel story, but to me, not particularly.

It could be that way, or it might not be—just about that level.

“Even though you know it won’t work, you still have to try. That’s your reason for existing. Is that it?”

“I’m sorry for you, but it can’t be helped. It’s been decided that way.”

“This is troublesome.”

Is it because they look down from such a distant, remote place?

Perhaps to them, individuals are nothing.

Maybe treating an entire race as a single concept would actually be better.

“But you want me to charge in even knowing I’ll fail?”

“If you don’t do it, there will be another after you. This too is an endless cycle.”

“…Then is there any need for me to do it?”

“No. But in exchange, you’ll pay a severe price for abandoning your duty. From the moment your body and soul separate after death.”

“That’s terrible.”

“You are a special one permitted to commit great evil. So, yes. As your kind often says, enjoy your life. The fact that your emotional makeup differs from others, that your desires are stronger than others—all of this forms the foundation for that.”

“And what about my will in this?”

“You only have the choice to comply or resist.”

A cruel story.

Arbitrary yet forceful.

“I hate being dragged along by someone else’s words.”

“That emotion and impulse aren’t yours either. You were made that way.”

“For what purpose?”

“Because one who conforms to order cannot become a destroyer.”

“…So you’re saying don’t conform to order, but follow and obey your will, something like that?”

“That’s right.”

……Further conversation would be a waste of time.

“I’m not saying I haven’t looked for better methods. I’ve searched everywhere… and realized this is the best option.”

So don’t suffer anymore.

“Complete extinction and destruction beyond death… that is our only salvation.”

“About that. Rationally, I don’t want to argue. I sympathize quite well.”

“The survival instinct that pursues life, such emotions are ultimately fabricated lies. For the race as a whole, it may be the foundation for development and growth… but for you yourself and the individual, it only brings pain. The happiness and fulfillment felt when males and females pair up are all lies. They’re nothing more than things made to be that way.”

“A bleak reality.”

Love, romance—when you look at it that way, they really do… become cheap.

“Tell me. What do you intend to do? I’ll determine your treatment based on your answer.”

“In such a hurry?”

“……”

Looking at her, I say to myself.

All that remains for her is frustration and despair.

Even resignation has been worn away and eroded, to the point where she can no longer tolerate any remaining resignation—that must be the being before me.

Once, by endlessly killing her immortal self for the sake of her people, she protected and nurtured the World Tree.

And the World Tree became another ark, bringing forth their descendants after a time of destruction, providing a foundation for them to build upon.

But faith was miserably discarded in an endless cycle of suffering, with neither salvation nor paradise.

Now she’s nothing but a dead soul embracing delusions, with no belief, sublimity, or integrity left.

“Even as gods come and go, we can never stop fighting. Those who protect us will ultimately throw us onto the battlefield in the name of that protection, constantly making the world an arena for struggle. The battle between order and chaos… that’s what it is. There’s only horror, without any nobility or value.”

“You’re right.”

“……”

“And knowing how terrible it is, you still want to push me into that pit. Oh, or you’re telling me to give up and accept death willingly, but what’s the difference? They seem the same to me.”

“You’ve talked too much. It’s time to decide.”

“Sigh.”

Neither choice will be pleasant.

Whatever I choose, all the choices at this moment are easy and simple.

To achieve a great war, a massacre, a great work that engraves oneself in history… might be both magnificent and glorious in a way.

How many people have enjoyed massacres and wars just to carve their names into history?

Look through history books and you’ll find plenty.

If you look at hero chronicles—not fairy tales but unembellished pure accounts—most heroes were nothing but powerful brutes.

They weren’t elevated for doing good deeds.

They were revered because they were powerful, victorious, and overcame trials.

Enough to naturally cover up some of their evil deeds.

“I reject both your proposals. Neither seems enjoyable or rewarding.”

“…Then die.”

She pronounced it like a sentence.

“And there will be no peace for you after death. Your soul will know only eternal pain without salvation. So if you fear that, obey. That is your only way to live forever.”

“…So go to heaven and become His sword. No, in this case… go to hell and become His sword. Is that it?”

“……”

“Telling me to become like Trigramaton. You’re quite overestimating me.”

It seems.

She doesn’t want me to die in vain.

That’s why she’s being so overbearing and pushing me.

To make me afraid.

And I experienced the past she showed me very vividly.

As if I had gone through it myself.

That pain and desperation, that sense of frustration.

The experience of a soul plummeting was a despair that could never be tasted twice.

So I know.

The pain she speaks of is incomparably, immeasurably more absolute suffering than ordinary pain.

On the surface, it looks like she’s cursing me, but it’s the opposite.

Her manner of speaking seems coercive, shameless, and quite brazen.

She’s not just showing me the way—she’s driving me to go.

…She knows better than anyone that this would be the best outcome for me, Kariel, as an individual, apart from the majority, the greater good, or the whole.

Saying that even if I don’t do it, that result and ending will come to pass.

That I was born with permission from God to commit evil.

So don’t think unnecessarily and just follow along.

If I don’t, all that awaits me is eternal pain.

But if I just do what I’m supposed to do, there will be glory and peace instead.

“What does it mean to make a better me?”

“……”

“You see.”

As if waking from a dream, the absurd world gradually recedes.

I wasn’t expecting an answer or reaction anyway.

“…It means refusing the easy path and deliberately choosing the difficult one.”

And only such people.

…Will somehow pioneer paths that others couldn’t.

Most will fail and taste frustration.

Nevertheless.

I must believe without doubt.

I, who have been granted the qualification by God to commit evil, I, who was born as a vessel destined to burn the world…

…Because of that, I can surely do it.

I must believe without doubt.

“This was never a battle between you and me, or the world and me.”

From the beginning, this world.

Me looking at the world.

Me accepting such a world.

A fight and struggle between me and myself.

“Fear, hesitation, anxiety. They all originate from within me after all.”

In the dark space, I removed my hand from the wall and slowly turned around.

“If I’ll reach the end you’ve drawn even if I fail, why should I hesitate?”

Suffering eternally in hell even after death.

Most people are moved by this outrageous, unrealistic, and unproven story, become terrified, and writhe in agony even in their sleep.

But here’s the strange thing.

You can’t avoid it anyway.

If you’ve done such a deed.

That future will certainly come.

So being afraid and gripped by fear is a loss no matter how you look at it.

Even in that moment, time passes, my youth is chipped away, and my body decays.

“Mother’s words were truly right.”

Do not fear sin.

Fear only your own weakness, kneeling powerlessly before that ugly sin.

And father also said, didn’t he?

“Instead of being held back by fear, take one more step forward.”

One teaching.

Another teaching.

Those two becoming one.

Gave me the courage to take a step forward now.

“A hero.”

A champion.

Lady Irenes was also intimidated in all sorts of ways, and I’ve heard that father, mother, and others faced many such trials and temptations.

If I, who has been listening to and admiring such stories all along, were to easily kneel before such a trial.

……I wouldn’t be able to face them at all.

“World Tree? You weren’t wrong. So you do your part.”

I move toward the small exit.

“I’ll find my own way.”