Ch.253The Road to Moros Gorge (1)

The most pathetic thing in the world is not living in the present because you’re trapped in the past or consumed by worries.

At least, that’s what I think.

The conversation I had with Simon on the bridge was tremendously helpful to me.

I became an adventurer because I wanted adventure, and I became an Apostle of the Sun because I chose to serve the sun.

I made those alcoholic elf twins my companions because I wanted them as comrades, and the bomb-specialist dwarf and the pyromaniac dwarf are by my side because I chose them as companions.

Who was it that said life hangs on the choices made between birth and death?

“I suppose all people think the same way after all…”

I muttered this while gazing at the night sky.

Though it’s night, the sun will soon rise.

The first Ascended Being who made me not human but transcendent.

He has made His decision.

To no longer stand by and watch.

How magnificent and grand is it that the specter of the past comes alive again, emerging from a long slumber, and soon the greatest being, immersed in sorrow, bestows His power upon the most insignificant existence?

I am the first Luminator, but I certainly won’t be the last.

The sun inevitably sets, but just as it rises again the next morning to drive away the twilight, His apostles will walk this earth until the last human on the 13 continents draws their final breath.

Slowly, the sun rises.

It rises, piercing through clouds and mountain ranges, obscuring the ascended starlight that had illuminated the night sky.

Gradually the world brightens, and people awaken from deep sleep, taking one step closer to their doom.

But don’t worry. Doom isn’t necessarily destruction.

-Cruising speed, 330km/h. Engines normal.-

“Hmm. At this speed, we should reach Moros Canyon within a week.”

I muttered, calculating the cruising speed reported through the voice tube and the distance to Moros Canyon.

The best thing about being up here in the sky is being able to fully enjoy the natural landscapes spread out below.

Most of it consisted of forests, fields, wastelands, and rocky mountain ranges, but the small villages and settlements visible here and there were evidence that humanity was steadfastly carving out their territory even in this harsh land.

When we look down at them, they look up at us.

What must it be like to live in that rough wilderness?

What’s advanced to them would be primitive to us, and what’s primitive to us would be advanced to them…

Perhaps they might hide in their homes, fearing the sky guardian that pierces through clouds and blocks the sunlight as it heads somewhere, or they might look up at the sky in awe.

Either way, it didn’t matter. If they look to the sky, they’ll soon know the majesty of the sun.

Today too, the wind howls, clouds gather, and the sunlight that rises, swallowing the horizon, brightly illuminates this world.

*

“Well, this is something. You’re actually reading books.”

When I entered the library, selected a suitable book, and began reading, Simon, who worked as the librarian, remarked with surprise.

“Even a warrior like me needs to cultivate some basic knowledge. Besides… I wasn’t in a position to be picky about books. I had to fill my head with knowledge, even if it was flawed.”

“True… it’s remarkable that a street orphan like you can read and write at all.”

It hurt my pride, but it was true.

Even in ordinary families with both parents, if they were poor, there was no luxury of learning to read.

Well, in heart cities like Faerus Vale or other prosperous cities, public education is well-established, so even children from unfortunate homes can receive education, but sadly, Parcival, where I grew up, wasn’t such a well-off neighborhood.

“Sigh… were there always this many books? It seems like there are more than last time.”

“Ah, we made a big purchase in Lorelai. The citizens also generously donated.”

“Is that so?”

I had wondered if the books were somehow reproducing, but apparently not.

Come to think of it, even in Parcival, books often had inscriptions saying ‘This book was donated by ~~’ when borrowed.

“Did you select good books?”

“Well. Censoring content when accepting donations isn’t something a follower of the God of Knowledge should do. Even the most garbage book has some value in reading it.”

“I suppose.”

Books are… essentially created by their makers to convey their intentions to readers. Whether those intentions are good or evil, once they reach the reader, the book has fulfilled its role as a medium.

“Ah, damn… I can’t get into this… Maybe it’s because I’ve lived more dynamically than the protagonist…”

But since conveying that ‘intention’ is quite difficult, I, who had tried to read a book after a long time, eventually grew bored.

I mean, is this protagonist impotent? A woman is lying in bed in the same room with her socks off, and he doesn’t make a move? This is a serious issue of plausibility.

“Hahaha… you certainly have the right to say that. You’re a distinguished general who ended a war.”

“Distinguished general… All I did was transport an overwhelmingly powerful weapon to the appropriate place. Don’t flatter me like that.”

“Don’t be so ignorant. War isn’t simply about ‘how well one fought.'”

“Then what is it about?”

“Fighting is… the realm of tactics. And choosing where to fight, who fights, and what to fight with is the realm of strategy. We defeated an enemy who had tactical superiority in northern Lorelai through strategic advantage, and that was entirely your achievement. You deployed armored units on the ground to block the entry of ground forces, and you single-handedly held off the enemy’s overwhelming air force with your airship.”

“But… I was just following the advice of my staff officers.”

“Who pays those staff officers? Besides, it was you who decided to accept their advice. Humility is good, but if you don’t have confidence in your abilities, you’ll eventually fail. Have a bit more confidence. You are an Apostle of the Sun, after all.”

When Simon said that, I gained a little more confidence.

Perhaps I had been overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness all this time.

Probably the powerlessness that comes from knowing—something those who have never fought against the world can never understand—that there are aspects of the world that can never be changed by force.

I killed over 50,000 people in Parcival, both nobles and commoners.

Yet Parcival remained unchanged. The docks were still overflowing with human trash, and the vacant spots I had cleared by killing were filled by identical villains.

I had grown weary of this meaningless slaughter, like cutting off a wart on your foot with nail clippers.

Perhaps that’s why I wanted to set out on an adventure.

At least in a new place, I wouldn’t have to witness that eternal cycle.

“Yes… I am an Apostle of the Sun. They are the Sun’s soldiers…”

But eventually this time came.

I realized that I was no longer a rebel fighting against the world, but a crusader who must establish order in the world.

Now, two years after setting out on my adventure, I have become an adult. I can no longer simply unleash anger and hatred at the world’s tragedies.

I have been entrusted with the heavy and sacred mission of burning the seeds of injustice and cutting out the roots of evil that have sprouted.

This is not simply because I am an Apostle of the Sun, an agent of transcendent will. It’s because I have begun to inscribe my existence in this world, beyond merely existing in it.

Every human, sooner or later, must take responsibility for their face and name.

Just as those who have formed families try to show only their best sides to their partners and children, as teachers maintain dignity before their students, as politicians hide their weaknesses before crowds, there comes a moment when one must hide their filth and weaknesses and pursue only strength.

It’s like how a 3-year-old child crying in the marketplace would evoke sympathy from anyone, but a 30-year-old man crying in the same place would make everyone frown.

In the end, no one can remain weak forever. Being alive… was better than being dead, after all…

“I’ve never thought about wanting to leave a mark on the world… but I’ve come this far. So at least when I die, I should leave my name in the world… Don’t you think?”

“Absolutely. When a man of valor sets his mind to something, he must venture into the greater world.”

When I said that, Simon stroked his beard and smiled.

The year 1202 was already heading toward September.

In this time when the sunlight grows stronger, what kind of people and what kind of world will I encounter?