Ch.418The Path to the Arcadia Continent (2)

# The Twelfth Continent

The meaning of those words to the Iron Walker Party was by no means small. After all, the Iron Walker Party was no ordinary party.

Anyone would have to nod in agreement if it was a party that included those who would become Emperor and Empress.

“Damn. Already the twelfth continent. We’re really not far from the end now.”

“Still, we mustn’t let our guard down. The battles ahead will only grow more intense. Especially after you take the throne.”

“Yes, I’m expecting that.”

“But you don’t truly feel it yet.”

At Simon’s words, Victor nodded with an awkward smile. In the end, even he couldn’t escape the limitations of a god who came from humanity.

The Arcadia Continent would effectively be the last continent where he could make a “pilgrimage.” Once he entered Centrum, he would have to begin preparations to formally ascend to the throne—though, of course, he was already making preliminary arrangements.

“This month alone, over 500 city-states have sworn loyalty. And by the time I reach Centrum, probably 70% of humanity will have pledged allegiance to me.”

“What’s the current number?”

“57% of humanity…”

“That’s more than enough, isn’t it? You already have the majority of humanity in your grasp.”

“Yes. That’s true.”

Victor continued to smile. In truth, he had no other expression he could make. The fact that it was becoming increasingly difficult to suppress his divinity was proof that his power as a god was continuously growing.

He might be able to suppress it somehow until Centrum, but once there… well. Would he truly be able to contain his power? The continent was in chaos, wars continued to rage, and everywhere people were killing in his name, and dying while crying out his name.

Each time, he could feel the fire burning within him grow larger, growling and demanding more fuel. Though it had its origins in Saburo’s power, it was by no means the same flame.

While Saburo’s flame consumed itself, Victor’s flame burned others. It wasn’t simply about producing light and heat. If Saburo was fundamentally a being infinitely close to the concept of “fire” itself, Victor felt more like an independent entity who wielded such “fire” according to his own will.

To put it simply, one was a campfire, and the other was a human who had taken a branch from that campfire to make a torch.

Unlike Saburo, who only proclaimed mechanical neutrality, Victor could wield his power infused with his own will. Just as someone holding a torch could make the fire larger, extinguish it, or use it to set things ablaze.

Whether this would be an advantage or disadvantage for the future of humanity as a species, he couldn’t say. Even if Victor could handle it, how would his descendants govern this power?

As his wife had said through tears, Victor himself acknowledged that his character and humanity were severely twisted, and the distortion was so pronounced that others could easily notice it. Would the next emperor, descended from such a being, wield that power for the benefit of all humanity rather than for personal glory?

Victor couldn’t easily say “yes.” To be honest, the curse placed on the couple was starting to feel like a blessing. Just thinking about the countless parents in Parcifal whose children had gotten their skulls cracked because they couldn’t keep them in line—there would be enough to fill the coastline.

“Damn… why are there so many things to think about?”

Victor sank into deep thought as he ran his hand over his face. How should he put it? As in his adventurer days, he had thought that gaining power would allow him to do whatever he wanted, but now that he had power, there were countless things that power couldn’t solve.

Politics, diplomacy, and would you believe that even bringing a single village under control by force wasn’t so straightforward? And this was Victor, master of all humanity, not some mediocre knight.

“Sometimes I wonder if this world is just too big.”

“The world was always big. You simply didn’t recognize it.”

“…”

The fact was that the world had always been vast. As Simon said, Victor had simply failed to perceive or recognize it until now.

When he had no power, he had to solve whatever problems were right in front of him, world be damned. Now that he had power, he faced only problems that power couldn’t solve, making the world suddenly seem larger.

*

“Any last words, unbeliever?”

“The Sun’s catamite has a sharp tongue. Kill me. A quick death would be more comfortable.”

“…If that’s what you want.”

Bang!

With the heavy sound of a pistol, the head exploded like a broken watermelon. The owner of that head was Levant, the tyrant of Yaben City. But now he was nothing more than a lump of meat.

“How truly barbaric.”

Calson, the mayor of a neighboring city who had executed him, wiped the blood from his chin with a handkerchief and threw down the pistol in his hand with disgust. The sensation of killing someone never became familiar.

“Is it over now?”

“Yes, Mr. Mayor.”

“Good. Then let’s head back… I believe the people of this land will manage well on their own.”

“Of course. I’ll prepare the ship.”

Riots, revolutions, rebellions—the names were grandiose, but in the end, someone’s head always rolled as a constant. And that meant people died, which in turn meant that society collapsed even faster.

And currently, no one in the 13 continents was prepared to respond to such total warfare.

The reason Calson’s city had invaded the neighboring state wasn’t even for the noble cause of eradicating a monarch belonging to the Shadow Alliance. It was because they had surrendered to religious extremists who threatened to burn their city if they didn’t punish the neighboring tyrant.

As a price—or perhaps hush money—donations poured in from everywhere, but 200,000 people had died in this war. Few things could fill that void.

“This damned war. When will it ever end?”

The entire continent was burning. And it was a particularly vicious fire, deliberately set to burn everything until nothing remained to be burned. To survive such a conflagration, one had to throw out everything flammable from their home.

Already, most of the Four Great Gods’ followers in the city had converted, and those who refused to convert to the end had all been beheaded.

Either way, those in the middle couldn’t survive. Mayor Calson, who had firmly believed that the greatest virtue of human society was tolerance toward those with different opinions, downed the strong liquor his subordinate brought him with trembling hands.

In the past few months, not only his city but his entire worldview had been utterly and completely shattered.

The last month of 1204 was so cruel that he almost wished to die drowning in alcohol.

“Mr. Mayor. Another ‘directive’ has arrived.”

“…What is it?”

A “directive” referred to orders from the alliance of monarchs who followed the master of humanity and lord of fervor. Of course, they were a stronger force than the city he governed. Needless to say, their “directives” were compulsory.

“They want us to accommodate 200,000 refugees. They’ll provide food, clothing, and medicine, but we need to arrange housing on our own.”

“Arrange on our own…?”

“That…”

The soldier who brought the directive rolled his eyes with an expression that seemed to ask if he should continue, then closed his eyes tightly and spat out the next words.

“Since 200,000 people died… we should utilize their homes…”

“….Fuck.”

Mayor Calson stood up, emptied the remaining liquor in the bottle, and then threw it to the floor.

Crash!

“Aaaaargh!!!! Fuck!!! You goddamn sons of bitches!!!!”

The mayor began smashing nearby objects in a rage, but the soldiers nearby made no attempt to stop him. Naturally, because his anger was justified, and their feelings matched his own.

Not only had 200,000 people died in a war they never wanted to fight, but now they were being told to house refugees in the homes of families who hadn’t even received death notices yet. Could this truly have come from someone with a human heart?

If so, the Sun was unworthy of being humanity’s master, and if not, the Sun was an incompetent master who couldn’t even look after his own followers.

“Huff… huff….”

“…Mr. Mayor?”

“Tell them we agree…”

“…”

“We’ll… accommodate the refugees… And prepare a public address. I need to speak directly.”

“…Understood, sir.”

Evil has brakes. Those who rush toward wickedness eventually hit the limits of humanity.

But what about justice? Does justice have brakes too? Calson thought not.

One person’s justice inevitably becomes another’s evil, but the vast majority of people didn’t know this and never sought to learn it.