Ch.349Bastion of Wisdom. Library (3)

“Hmm. Quite direct, aren’t you.”

+++What did you expect? I doubt you came all this way just for pleasant conversation.+++

“That’s true. Fine. Let’s get to the point. Come under my command.”

+++Ha…+++

Logos snorted with disbelief, breaking into a short laugh.

But that laughter quickly faded, and he soon looked at Victor with a cold expression.

+++Why should I do that? Granted, you possess overwhelming strength, enough to subdue Karil and leave severe wounds on Moneta’s legs. But you cannot kill the Four. You must know the reason why…+++

Victor nodded.

He had seen and studied enough. The Four were beings who drew power from human nature. To say one would kill them was equivalent to saying one would kill human emotions.

It was an impossible goal, and even if possible, no one would approve of it, and even if achieved, nothing but destruction would remain.

But…

“You seem to be misunderstanding something… Let me correct you.”

+++Misunderstanding? I am the god of wisdom. What exactly am I misunderstanding?+++

“What else?”

Victor smiled faintly, but Logos soon realized it was a sneer.

Before he could even utter the word “wait,” his space was instantly filled with light, and then tremendous heat rushed upon him.

+++AAAAARGH…!!!+++

Skin peeling off, muscles charring black, bones melting away.

Terrible pain dominated his mortal flesh, yet his body was still moving.

Of course, this was not by his will.

“Knowledge breeds arrogance.”

And from afar, a giant of light looked down at him and spoke.

“Wisdom creates pride.”

The tone was like a teacher admonishing a student who had made a mess of the classroom, but the power behind those words was immense. In the solar windstorm, his body was regenerating, tearing, healing, and burning all at once.

“I did not ask anything of you. I merely commanded. And you will obey. Because my power is greater than yours, because your domain is merely a well to my ocean, because your authority dims before my magnificence.”

It was an arrogant, prideful statement, but how could one refute it when the speaker was the creator of the world and the spiritual master of humanity?

Logos could not find an answer.

His mind, bound to his flesh, was crumbling and shattering in agony.

“You, Logos, who calls yourself the master of wisdom and knowledge. Remember this. My destiny is to rule the world, and my fate is to embrace humanity. Do you dare respond with foolish disobedience when I graciously offer you the glorious position to guide humanity under the shadow of the true master?”

Logos tried to answer but couldn’t.

His vocal cords were burning, his throat boiling, his mouth exploding, his teeth melting away.

“Despite not giving you a choice, you naturally try to refuse my ‘offer.’ As if you had options. As if you could oppose me.”

Then, the windstorm ceased, replaced by unbearably hot heat.

The floor began to boil, transforming into something hotter than lava.

Logos, unable to resist, looked at Victor, at the sun, with eyes that were evaporating as he felt the pain of melting alive.

“You represent human nature. I represent nothing.”

The giant of light, almost as vast as the world itself, watched Logos’s slowly melting body as he spoke.

“I am the sum of humanity, the definition of mankind, the creator of the world and its master. Do you, mere stewards, dare to become landlords? Those who mistake my kindness for entitlement shall have no future.”

The giant spoke thus, and Logos had to endure terrible burning pain for a long time.

When the moment that felt like eternity—or the eternity that felt like a moment—ended, he could reconstitute his body and escape the heat that vaporized his eyeballs and the windstorm that tore his skin.

Then Victor stood before him with a stern expression, and Logos dared not raise his head.

“Do you understand your position now?”

Logos nodded hastily.

He wanted to escape the intense pain still coursing through his spine as quickly as possible, even a second sooner.

“When I ascend the throne, you will no longer dare call yourselves gods. I establish an empire to unite the world, and I ascend the throne to save humanity. On the day I achieve this great work, you must choose whether to mount the scaffold as traitors or share in glory as my archangels.”

Victor sternly rebuked him, then tore apart the space he had created.

As the magic dissolved and the technology broke down, what was revealed was a desolate, empty room. He had been playing god with various barriers woven within this mere room.

Of course, he was indeed a god, but by the sun’s standards, he too was nothing but dust.

Victor opened the door of the room.

His wife, whom they hadn’t known was there, left the room first, and then Victor followed, closing the door behind him.

+++Huff… huff…+++

And though left alone, he could not bring himself to rise.

*

“Ah. You’re back. How was it?”

Victor and Raisha returned to the surface on the elevator that seemed to move as slowly as a lifetime.

They reunited with Simon, and fortunately, the atmosphere was much better than before.

“He was a rude fellow. I’d say his head is filled with ink instead of brains. But well… it ended well.”

If you’re unsure whether “ended well” applies in this case, it’s best to stay quiet.

When a god says something is so, anyone who disagrees is a heretic.

“That’s good then. It took so long I thought you might be fighting.”

“How much time has passed?”

“About six hours? Did you have that much to talk about?”

Victor looked at a librarian who was organizing books nearby to confirm if that much time had indeed passed.

“5 hours, 43 minutes, and 22 seconds.”

“So that’s how much time passed. A room of time and mind, indeed.”

“Stop using the librarians as stopwatches. They’re disciples of the god of wisdom; we should respect their dignity.”

“Well… if my sage says so.”

Victor answered glibly, then said to Simon:

“Simon, when you leave, spend time at the entrance talking with people as they welcome the new year. From their perspective, a living mortal has passed a divine trial. They’ll be desperate for even fragments of wisdom.”

“Hmm… Are you asking me to become a lecturer?”

“Think of it as a temporary position. I’ll deploy soldiers to manage things, so it won’t be too difficult.”

“Well… come to think of it, I’ve only known how to learn, not how to teach. This could be good practice. Alright, I’ll give it a try.”

“Excellent choice.”

Victor believed that if you receive something, you should rightfully give something in return. Just as his followers offer faith and donations, he gives them the gift of his existence.

It might seem audacious, but since the world would end without Victor, it was acceptable to set a slightly high price. That’s the frightening aspect of a monopoly market.

Recommending Simon as a temporary lecturer was a small compensation for being too harsh with Logos. Knowledge grows when shared, after all.

Even if he didn’t like the approach, it didn’t particularly matter. If it bothered him, he should have made his body non-combustible.

“Go out and call my subordinates. Have them control the crowd.”

“Yes, dear.”

Before leaving the library, Victor summoned his subordinates to control the crowds and promote the temporary lectures that would continue until the new year.

Soon, the Sun’s soldiers entered the library, and the expressions of the librarians watching them were decaying like living stinky tofu.

“From now until January 1, 1204, Simon will be giving lectures at the entrance. Send subordinates to control the crowd and distribute supplies to feed the people. Understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Do we have permission to contact local merchants?”

“Yes. Submit the necessary expense documents to Sim… no, to me for approval.”

“Understood.”

The high-ranking officers saluted and left the library, and only then did the librarians’ expressions relax.