Ch.397Flower Canyon. Neriden Canyon (3)

Clop-clop. Clop-clop.

This was probably the first time I had moved so slowly on a Bruiser. While it was impossible to run in places like marketplaces, right now I was deliberately not running.

As we gradually gained altitude, herb gatherers coming down from the ridge all prostrated themselves in deep bows.

I could see their baskets filled not with medicinal herbs, but with various wild vegetables. At least their families would enjoy a bountiful dinner tonight.

“I apologize, Your Majesty. Despite the mountain access prohibition, some people still climbed up secretly.”

Once the herb gatherers were out of sight, the administrator at the front bowed his head in apology.

“Don’t blame them. They weren’t gathering medicinal herbs, just mountain vegetables. I’m not so heartless.”

“I thought you were a god…”

At those words, Victor couldn’t help but squeeze his eyes shut for a moment.

Come to think of it, it was true. He was no longer human. But interpreting his statement that way showed a remarkable lack of tact.

“I meant it figuratively. Don’t fixate so much on a single word.”

“Understood. From here, we must proceed on foot. Please dismount. The slope is too steep to continue on horseback.”

“Very well. Everyone, dismount.”

As the Iron Walker party got off their horses, the administrator began climbing the steep ridge without hesitation.

The dwarves, with their short legs, were practically rock climbing rather than hiking, but thanks to Simon, who cast a levitation spell when he saw their struggle, they were able to ascend comfortably.

“This is Bloody Mary. I thought it looked familiar.”

“I’m honored you recognized it. We did some extensive work to enhance the mountain’s scenery.”

“Oh? Well, the inhabitants of this land do have considerable expertise in horticulture.”

“Thank you.”

If they could make even the weakest flowers bloom effortlessly, surely they could transplant cherry trees that were much stronger and hardier. Though it wasn’t yet time for autumn colors, the blood-red cherry blossoms of Bloody Mary fluttering along the ridge created a truly fantastic sight.

If there were such a thing as a peach blossom paradise, perhaps it would look like this. The crimson cherry blossoms created a mystical atmosphere, like an entrance to a realm of immortals, separate from the mortal world.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? But the view from the summit is far more magnificent.”

“That’s quite the confidence.”

“When confidence meets evidence, it becomes self-esteem.”

The administrator smiled gently as he continued upward. Truly remarkable confidence—no, self-esteem.

The path to the summit was difficult but beautiful and dreamlike, accompanied by pleasant mountain breezes that felt as if they had bribed the wind spirits.

Though clearly real, the fairy-tale-like, otherworldly feeling of walking through this landscape perfectly demonstrated why this land was considered the most beautiful place on the Cecilia continent.

And finally, upon reaching the mountain’s summit, the Iron Walker party understood why the administrator had spoken with such certainty.

*

Flowers.

Flowers everywhere.

Yellow flowers, red flowers, blue flowers, green flowers, white flowers… The garden flowers, as if every flower in the world had been gathered and planted here, looking almost artificial, gently embraced the wind that broke against the ravine, and nurtured their leaves and buds in the midday sunlight.

“Beautiful.”

“Indeed it is. This sight is both the pride and atonement of Neriden.”

“Atonement?”

“Our ancestors fought a long war. Through 50,000 years of civil war and conflict, the human soul became desolate, and we realized we could never return to the past. That’s why we covered this place with flowers. To mask the stench of corpses and silence the laments of dead weapons… You can see it, can’t you? How many were buried in this land. And… how many were never buried at all.”

“…”

Victor knew the answer.

Only 23 million were properly buried or cremated. The remaining 76 billion soldiers died lonely deaths in the melted ravines, inside weapons, under weapons, on top of weapons, their bodies pecked and gnawed by crows and insects, never receiving proper funerals.

“Half-decayed corpses emerge whenever we dig the ground. Rusted and broken weapons. And the legacy of the once-great ancient civilization. The golden age of humanity that will never return. Humanity’s obstinacy and self-righteousness. The glory of tens of thousands of years ago, brutally destroyed by the madness and fanaticism of gods… No matter how much time passes, as long as people live on this land, they will never be forgotten.”

“…Indeed.”

The human soul had already been destroyed.

From the moment the first human struck down his brother with a stone. From the moment humanity chose violence over compromise, war over negotiation, extermination over coexistence. The human soul had fallen into the abyss of hell, reduced to awaiting the final judgment that would someday come.

Of course, there must have been opportunities. But after rejecting them all, humanity ultimately fell to these 13 continents.

Perhaps in some timeline, there existed an ending where a god born from human goodness guided humanity. But that was mere speculation. Human history entered its second act when an evil god born from human wickedness tore the world apart as punishment.

“Despite all these flowers… we cannot mask the stench of corpses. Burning the bodies that emerge whenever we dig to plant flowers, the remnants of ancient war machines that appear whenever we divert water to create orchards… these are not uncommon occurrences here.”

“I see. So all this scenery is actually a cemetery.”

Victor closed his eyes.

And he drew the souls buried deep in this land back to the surface.

Suddenly, an earthquake struck, and the ground split open.

Even the mountain shook with the vibrations, and through the cracks in the earth, tens of billions of vengeful spirits began to pour out.

Those who became ghosts after dying without proper respect. Those who died with hesitant loyalty to a crumbling empire and fanatical devotion to the glory of deranged ministers. Hundreds of vengeful spirits, unburied and rotting, their flesh torn by animals, their bones crushed and marrow sucked out, filled with extreme pain and hatred, formed a storm and approached the sun.

They did not speak. They could not speak.

They merely glared at him, filled with the intense hatred and resentment accumulated over thousands of years.

Through the smoke of crushed skulls, he extended his hand. Feeling something, the sun applied force, shifted his weight, and then pressed his forehead against the vengeful spirit closest to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Victor said.

For what, and to whom, was this apology? Only the great storm of vengeful spirits gazing at him with their foreheads pressed together would know.

The vengeful spirits, decayed and forgotten, their resentment congealed over thousands of years, violently enveloped Victor’s soul. A torrent of hatred that even a god would struggle to escape from. Souls that never received salvation, whose reasons had eroded away, leaving only the single cry: “I didn’t want to die like this.”

The administrator watched it all from the side.

Could he purify this land?

Could he appease the vengeful spirits dwelling in this land, the souls of the dead who craved the lives of the living?

“Half of you fought for me, and the other half fought against me. Some fought willingly, while others were forced into battle.”

The wailing of the vengeful spirits grew louder.

They writhed as if eager to escape this massive storm and slaughter the living to vent their anger.

“I will liberate you, whose names have been forgotten and whose bodies have rotted away. If you seek salvation, accept me. I will send you to where you should have gone thousands of years ago, to the side of your comrades and family.”

Gradually, the storm subsided.

Beams of light breaking through the clouds became hooks that tore the storm to shreds, and the liberated spirits escaped the twisted current, ascending to heaven in the form of their original human bodies.

“My name is Victor Walker, the last heir of the Nariakiran Empire and the first emperor of the Victorian Empire. In the name of one sun and two empires, I release you from the karma of the solar eclipse.”

Quietly but firmly, the emperor’s voice resonated.

The storm shattered into pieces and began to follow the light above the clouds, toward the sun in the universe.

Like flower petals dancing in the wind, the souls fluttered. They would finally be liberated and free.

Those seeking rest would find it, and those desiring rebirth would be born again.

Year 1204 of the Death Era, December 11th.

On this day, the Neriden Ravine became a land not of regeneration, but of salvation.