Ch.231The Gospel of the Cursed (2)

Laios’s memories were incomplete and unclear. He said he didn’t remember much about serving as a guide during the Fifth Crusade.

But the blood-curdling terror, his countless promises to stand up when looking at Ismene, and the time when he was blind remained vivid.

“A creature half lion and half bear clawed my face. I wasn’t completely blind, but I could only make out vague outlines. I was sad that I could no longer see Ismene, but I also felt relief—cowardly as it was—that I didn’t have to see those terrible things anymore.”

In the end, he was abandoned. A guide who couldn’t lead the way was nothing but a useless mouth to feed.

Yet he survived. Half-buried in dirt and snow, he remembered his sister who had come with him from Berta Village, Ismene, and his mission. The mission to eliminate the Demon King.

But the wasteland’s curse remained. To the blind Laios, it revealed sounds. The sounds of Ismene’s fate.

He couldn’t explain the detailed process to Kain. Laios clutched his head. His trembling hands were visible even from where Kain sat.

“I wanted revenge. I wanted to tear them all to pieces…”

Then the wasteland gave him a gift. Black smoke that crawled like a snake across the ground burrowed into his body. It was a fragment of the Demon King that Arianne of Humility couldn’t swallow and had discarded.

Laios stood up.

He wasn’t hungry, thirsty, cold, or hot. He could even see now. Though everything looked different from before, he could see.

To him, the world was a dark sea at night. A tide of corpses without a drop of moisture. Beyond the horizon of undulating remains, a crimson light rose.

Naturally, he went to find Ismene first. And there he met his second death.

Ismene had already become a soulless monster. All that remained was a broken, mutilated vessel for a soul. A monster without a soul, desiring only revenge. The howling spirits of the wasteland, with their tearing laughter, gladly enshrined her as their saint.

“They have no purpose. They just kill, mate, cry, and harm themselves, only to be reborn and repeat the same actions. They’re bound to the wasteland, neither living nor dying, with nothing left but emotions consumed by evil.”

Ismene couldn’t even recognize Laios. His body was shattered into pieces.

But the wasteland wouldn’t let him go. It sent him to its edge and revived him again. So he could suffer once more and become the wasteland’s poor joke.

His agony was the wasteland’s pleasure, and his pain was the wasteland’s strength.

Evil spirits who take pleasure in others’ misfortunes. Those who mock others’ deaths to confirm their own existence and feel superior. These are the cursed ones bound to the wasteland.

– What, can’t take a joke?

They burst into tearing laughter, mocking Laios. So he fought. Until they could no longer laugh, dying and rising countless times, he finally stood above them.

‘Laugh.’

He whispered, pressing his gauntlet against their mouths and tearing them. He murmured as he ripped their lower jaws.

‘I said laugh.’

The wasteland also taught him how to awaken dead souls. He learned how to play with even the dead like toys. Mocking. Mocking. And mocking again.

– Just trying to make you laugh, that’s all.

That’s why laughter never ceased in the wasteland. They laughed at everything they saw. But when someone fearsome like Laios passed by, they laughed obsequiously, watching their step.

Here, one could neither live nor die. Yet with each step, they writhed in agony. The only brief respite from pain was laughter—the mockery of seeing fellow dead souls in the same predicament.

As he spent time neither alive nor dead, a voice reached him. Something with a human outline.

For some reason, it didn’t try to devour him by splitting its belly open, nor did a hand with a dagger spring from its neck.

It was literally an ordinary person. He called himself “Günther.” The voice seemed somehow familiar, but Laios was just happy to meet someone human-like after so long.

“We talked for a long time. He told me that I was indeed a hero chosen by revelation. But the Demon King’s subordinates had harmed me, eaten pieces of Ismene, and were spreading false stories throughout the world.

He said he had been searching for me, the ‘real hero,’ for a very long time, and as proof, he would give me this sword. He also said I could only draw the sword once I passed the trial and became a true hero.”

Living in the cursed land, unable to die, Laios had already learned many things through experience. How to conceal himself in shadows. How to transport himself to desired locations.

He never mastered the art of swordsmanship, but it wouldn’t have been much use anyway against beasts larger than bears.

He could go anywhere where light bloomed. The Black Phoenix priests worshipped him, and followers sought revenge upon the world.

They would give everything if he gave them the power to overturn the world.

So he did. Their hopes were sealed in the sword, and their bodies writhed and transformed. Strengthened, they roamed the world, but after achieving what they wanted, they boarded Laios’s ship.

Occasionally, massive flames erupted as if from a volcano. Flames impossible to ignore. Fragments of the Demon King.

Unforgivable things.

Laios headed toward them. He gathered the Demon King’s fragments one by one, turning their bodies into beasts and loading them onto his ship. The only exception was “Humility.”

Arianne’s unusual appearance—white hair and skin so transparent it seemed to glow—was already famous among the crusaders. Though Laios had never spoken with her, he already knew who she was and where she came from.

Because Arius of Temperance, who had voluntarily become a beast, had confessed everything to him. Arius was the ship itself and Laios’s new master.

“He told me that he was willing to sacrifice himself for the truth.”

Arius told him where to find the heroes. In Arianne’s case, though she had no fragment of the Demon King, she was found in the southern Empire where Black Phoenix Faith activities were most vigorous, thanks to the rituals of the Samaritans.

“Why was William first?”

“Arius said he was a shrewd libertine. A man who took other men’s wives behind their husbands’ backs—how despicable could he be?”

Incredibly, it was true. William had sent warning letters to everyone. Though it seemed no one took them seriously.

“Arius. William. Arianne. After that, it didn’t matter who I chose next. In fact, I knew the locations of all the others except Günther. They all used the Demon King’s fragments whenever they wanted.”

“And coincidentally, you encountered me?”

At Kain’s question, Laios pondered for a moment.

“I’m not sure about that myself. It wasn’t my decision. The sword pointed that way. It might sound crazy, but it’s a crazy world anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“I believe you,” Kain replied without a hint of humor. “When I broke Günther’s spear, the sword spoke to me. It even moved on its own, pulling at my hand as if guiding me.”

A slight smile appeared on Laios’s face. Something like expectation. But it soon darkened.

“But you couldn’t draw the sword either.”

“No.” Kain stared at the sword. “What exactly is that sword? What do you know about it?”

Laios was silent. All that could be heard was the sound of winding springs. Only after quite some time did he answer.

“Literally, hope. The specters of the wasteland placed their wishes in this sword. Those who lost their lives in the Imperial army’s massacre when the wasteland was once a beautiful field of canola flowers placed their hope here.”

“Why?”

“Well. Isn’t it similar to burying your most precious thing in the deepest place? You hide it away because you can’t afford to lose it.

It’s not surprising. Like ‘Once I achieve this, I’ll be complete. Once I get through this period, I’ll be better.’ Just as people keep postponing happiness, the souls of the wasteland postponed hope.

When the promised time comes. If hope cannot save them, if the expectations they held turn out to be nothing. That’s when they’ll truly collapse.

They fear hope. Fear that the illusion will shatter. They long for it, want to follow it, but are afraid of disappointment, failure, and pain. They don’t want to hurt anymore.

So they placed it here. The empty future that leads people. That’s all I know about this sword. False hope. A future that people follow but can never achieve. A sweet dream so fantastical that it forever deprives people of paradise.”

Kain was puzzled. What the sword had asked him wasn’t about emptiness, at least. Was it a chatty sword that asked different things to different people, or one that liked to grasp at straws?

And why had the sword pointed to Kain’s group? He couldn’t understand. Did it reflect the hope of whoever held it? But Laios knew nothing about Kain’s group at that time.

“So. This was all a massive fraud.” Laios gave a hollow laugh.

“When I went to get the last remaining fragment of the Demon King, and when I realized Günther had deceived me. I was about to throw away everything I had gathered. I thought if I poured in all the fleets I had collected, I might win.”

The swirling vortex filling the sky, winged angels, beasts, and the fleet. All of them were Laios’s subordinates.

But that fleet was never deployed. It’s flying along the cloud patterns now, like the ship Kain and Laios are on.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t sacrifice this fleet for that. Because then I wouldn’t be able to see Ismene. The forces I have are just a handful. The souls sprawled before her are disorganized and lack any command structure, but they’re all insane and too numerous for me to break through alone. And… you stood against him.

Actually, I still don’t understand why you’re forcing your companions to sleep and coming with me. No one has ever thought of me that way. No one has ever treated Ismene that way. Why are you different?”

“As I said before, it’s the protection you should have received long ago. It’s not that I’m particularly special, or that I’m great, or that I have a kind heart… not at all. I’m not that kind of person. I just didn’t want to bring people I care about into dangerous places. And regulations say I shouldn’t.”

“Regulations?” Laios genuinely seemed not to know. “What regulations?”

“Security Bureau regulations. In clearly dangerous situations, you need to secure yourself first. You have to survive to do anything. But if it’s truly unavoidable, you must save at least one person.

So they can relay the news and discuss countermeasures. I told you. I’m not a special person. It just happened to be me who came as a representative. Any agent with their head on straight would have done the same.”

Laios still shook his head, not quite understanding.

“I see it’s not a romantic reason. But is it okay to tell me such things? In the White Blood Knights, we weren’t supposed to talk about internal regulations outside. The Security Bureau must be even more…”

“What are they going to do? Fire me? I’m quitting after this anyway. I can’t take it anymore.”

At this unexpected statement, Laios burst out with a “Kuk” laugh. Seeing him trying to hold back his laughter, Kain burst out laughing too. It was nothing special, but the two laughed until tears came to their eyes.

“Ah, I don’t think I’ve laughed like this in over ten years.”

“Isn’t that what old men always say?”

“Shut up. You look older than me.”

“I think we’re about the same age.”

Silly jokes. Trivial stories. Not much substance.

But because of this, Laios recalled things he had forgotten. Small, insignificant laughs that were only funny to oneself, not particularly amusing to others who didn’t know the context.

For the first time since leaving Berta Village, Laios laughed happily without mocking anyone. No fight broke out after laughing. There was no need to tear someone’s mouth for laughing too much.

It was just comfortable. A very small but warm and nostalgic warmth.

The last joke in this world shared between two people, never to be enjoyed again.