Ch.989Non-existent Memory

A pair of wings on a massive body like a mountain. Horns sprouting from its head and a long tail.

The monster created by the World Tree somehow resembled a dragon.

Though there were significant differences when examined closely.

“Grooooar…!”

As the pair of wings made of vegetation spread wide, they cast a massive shadow over the rocky armor covering the monster’s entire body.

Inside the rocky armor, the body seemed to be made of flame rather than flesh and bone, with crimson fire flickering between the gaps in the rocks.

Its six legs resembled those of a bear or lion, its partially exposed chest formed large curves like a woman’s, and its neck was relatively short like a human’s.

And attached to that neck was a woman’s head.

Perhaps modeled after a fairy’s face. It had a neat and delicate appearance with elongated ears. In some ways, it could even be called beautiful.

If only it kept its mouth closed.

“Grrrrrr…”

A maw large enough to swallow a bear whole and still have room for more.

Its mouth was grotesquely split to the ears, it had no tongue at all, and its exposed teeth were shark-like and sharp.

And that wasn’t all.

Vivid flames poured endlessly from the empty eye sockets, and its hair, long enough to half-cover its back, was blue and semi-transparent like a ghost.

Wooden antlers resembling deer horns sprouted from both temples, with small lightning bolts swirling and crackling around each twisted branch.

In short, a monstrous dragon that was a mix of beast, fairy, elemental, and tree?

It was massive, imposing, terrifying yet beautiful—enough to cut one’s fighting spirit in half just by looking at it.

“What on earth is that… Senior Perne, do you know anything about it?”

“No, how could I? Such a monster…”

Perneisia shook her head, her ear tips trembling. Even she, who had once served as a guardian of Alvheim, had never even heard rumors about such a monster.

“…I’d believe it if you told me it was the World Tree itself that appeared.”

Ophelia bit her lip as cold sweat ran down her face. She felt a pressure squeezing her entire body, as if she might faint at any moment if she relaxed her guard.

A monster whose visible mana alone was several times that of a dragon.

To Ophelia’s eyes, which could see the flow of mana itself, the monster appeared to be as powerful as a divine manifestation.

‘No doubt about it. This monster, even more than that fairy…!’

In terms of mana quantity, it easily surpassed the Great Guardian Varnir. The monster before her contained a terrifyingly vast amount of mana within its body.

Of course, just as even mighty dragons could lose their lives to human swords, strength wasn’t determined by mana quantity alone…

“…I think we should retreat. Honestly, I don’t see how we can win.”

At the very least, she didn’t think she and Demian alone could defeat it.

That’s why Ophelia suggested a temporary retreat.

Rather than fighting that thing, it might be better to return to the battlefield where Varnir and Haschal were fighting and just watch.

It was a typical mage’s judgment—assessing the odds and, if unfavorable, abandoning without hesitation.

“No.”

Unfortunately for Ophelia, the being standing beside her was not a mage.

“Whether we have a chance or not… that’s something we can’t know until we fight.”

The hero of the sacred sword. Demian shook his head as he raised his pure white greatsword to point at the monster. He would not choose to flee without even trying to fight.

“It might be stronger than we think… or it might be weaker. Either way, I can’t retreat without finding out for myself.”

Unlike mages who calculate their odds before fighting, warriors are those who determine the gap between themselves and their enemies through their weapons.

Demian was no different.

“If we just retreat now, we won’t learn anything, but if we fight, we can gather information. Its strength. Its tactics. Maybe even its limitations.”

With that, he gripped his sacred sword more firmly and spread his pure white wings behind his back.

To face the monster—like a living volcano—without retreat, to extract information about it in the clash between killing intent and killing intent.

Until he finally found that small, faint chance of victory, so slim its existence was barely discernible.

The symbol of divine might.

The hero and the monster collided like a calamity.

=====[ Haschal ]=====

Know thyself.

The ancient philosopher Socrates said that. Actually, it wasn’t his original saying. It was supposedly inscribed on some temple pillar.

Anyway, the lesson in those words is simple.

If you want to engage in belated self-discovery, you should choose a peaceful and tranquil profession like philosopher or priest.

“PWAAAAARGH!”

“Kuhak…!”

I had such thoughts as I crashed into the middle of a collapsed tree trunk.

My abdomen, which took the direct hit, throbbed as if it would rupture.

Blood dripped steadily. It was a fierce slash that would have split my body in half if not for my enhanced physique, the defense of my Karma of Murder, and the protection of the Fire Seal.

“Your reaction speed has become abnormally slow. Have you truly reached your limit?”

Varnir, who had sent me flying with his green divine sword, tilted his head and asked.

It was a face that questioned why I had taken a hit and been sent flying from an attack that I should have dodged in the first place.

“Limit? Don’t make me laugh. Getting cocky over one lucky hit.”

I sneered as I stabbed Durandal into the ground and used it as a cane to get up. With a face suggesting my limit was still far off.

It was true that my remaining strength was less than 40% of normal, but it wasn’t enough to say I’d reached my limit yet.

The reason I failed to respond to his slash and took the hit wasn’t due to physical or mental fatigue.

What was it then?

Well, isn’t it obvious?

[ Your sword has dulled. You’re thinking of other things when you should be focusing all your attention on the battle. What are you thinking about? ]

‘Well… deep contemplation about myself?’

As Hersella said, I couldn’t focus on the battle because I was busy thinking about other things while fighting Varnir.

I was trying to find my essence or whatever, as Astraea had advised me.

Of course, it wasn’t an easy task.

[ What nonsense is this… Did you hit your head? ]

Hersella, who couldn’t hear the goddess’s voice, didn’t even understand what I was talking about.

‘So…’

Therefore, I briefly explained to her why I was behaving this way.

The goddess personally told me that if I could find the “star” or whatever inside me, I would have a chance to win.

So I was trying hard to find it by racking my brains, but as a result, I couldn’t focus on the battle and took a direct hit.

[ How pathetic. Both tasks require your full concentration to achieve, yet you try to do both simultaneously, not knowing your limits. Such a thing is impossible. You’re so stubborn. ]

Having understood the situation, Hersella let out a hollow laugh and mocked me. Saying that someone like me attempting to meditate and fight simultaneously was absurd.

Judging by the hit I just took, she wasn’t wrong, but her tone was so irritating that I wanted to refute her even if I had to force it.

‘You never know until you try. I’m just not used to it yet, so I took one hit—’

[ No, that’s not what I meant. Why do you need to do both simultaneously in the first place? ]

Hersella cut off my protest and clicked her tongue.

Then.

[ Step aside. ]

With one firm command, she ignited the remaining power of the Karma of Murder like a wildfire and spread it out.

[ You just stay behind me and focus on finding yourself. I’ll buy you the time for that luxury. ]

My senses grew distant, like falling into a dream just before sleep.

The crimson nebula spreading around me enveloped my entire body like armor, melting into me, and my limbs began to move on their own, no longer following my will.

[ Well… I might even defeat him while you’re at it. ]

Just before completely losing control of my body, a confident laugh echoed in my fading mind.

[ So hurry up. Unless you want to give me something to mock you about for the next decade or so. ]

The Art of Karma of Murder,

The Body of the Evil God.

The next moment, my consciousness was pushed to the back of my mind, separated from my body.

Having lost control of all my limbs, all I could do was think in a space where nothing was possible.

Though I could only stay there until Hersella’s power ran out, it was an optimal space for self-exploration.

Is this Hersella’s way of being considerate?

“That power… indeed the divinity of Vanirgand? You’ve managed to reach that level without succumbing to his evil star. But you’re still immature!”

“An old elf being so arrogant, whether I’m immature or not will be determined by the result. The result being your dismembered elf corpse!”

…Or perhaps she was just desperate to engage in a blood battle with a powerful enemy.

Anyway, thanks to her, I was able to gain time for self-reflection. I should be grateful for that much.

Well then… let’s give it a try.

—-

I closed my eyes—more precisely, I cut off all interest in the outside situation and devoted my entire consciousness to contemplating my inner self.

Until I found the “star” within me.

I don’t know how to find it. To begin with, it wasn’t even clear what that “star” meant.

That’s why it was an incredibly difficult task.

It felt like searching for a treasure chest that might not even exist in the middle of uncharted territory without a map.

So I intensively observed the flow of power within me and reflected on all my words, thoughts, and memories, hoping to find even the slightest clue.

Just quietly, just endlessly.

And.

Suddenly, at some point.

-℡҉̰̯̟͇̮̠̞͍̞̫́̆̑͑̃̌§҈̝̲̥̞͔́͗͗̏̃͌̀‡̶̮̖̳͉͒́͛̐̾͒℡҉͓̗̮̱̣̮̱͚̒̌̒͂№̷̦̙͙͚͉͎̯̱͍̦̎̈́̑́̑͑͊̈̃̂͋̚ͅͅⅨ̸̝͍̖̤̞̜̍̏̀̒̓ͅ℡̸̟͔̠͈͙͔͈̖̙̮͇̪̂̆̋̏́̾̅̎͒Å̸̩͚͇͎͎͍̯̟͍̙̝̪̓̎̒͑̄͗͗̎̄̆™

A scene from my memory flickered with noise like a malfunctioning CRT TV.

Memories from after I returned to my homeland after losing both legs and being discharged, before falling into this world.

The jobs I couldn’t get due to the cold treatment toward disabled veterans. The cold gazes of people.

And finally, memories of giving up on everything, locking myself in a small room I barely managed to get, and spending time playing games as a drunkard…

-‡̴͕̠͎͔̳̩̯̝̲̣̣̀̒̃̋̀̀№̴̜̲̗̪̘̭̂̉̿̆̄̍̑̆̉§̶͈̰̝̝͎̱̟̘͚̪͊̐̾͑̍̆̄͑̉͛‡̶̬̩̥͎͙̃̉̽̈̍̐Ⅸ҉̮͍̭͉̙̥͙̤͒̈̓̂́̐̊̚№҈͍͔̮̩͆͛̽̂̂̀̓̾́̿̋ͅÅ̶̬̦̜̗͉̮͈͖̭̑̑̏̃́̍Ⅸ̶̠̤̙̥͔͍̙̘̜͈̜͛̃̾͑̊́̈̓͂̍㏇

With the noise, they split, twisted, broke, and transformed into completely different memories.

‘…What is this?’

Memories I didn’t know. Memories that weren’t even in my head emerged as if recalling forgotten reminiscences.

I forgot all other thoughts and, as if entranced, delved into these unknown memories that had surfaced in my mind.

And.

I remembered.

—-

“Thwoong!”

The low, dull sound of a silenced pistol.

Just before returning to my homeland, someone’s bullet pierced through the back of the head of a man heading to the airport in a wheelchair.

The man lowered his head, splattering blood and brain matter. His pale face, soaked in his own blood, resembled someone I knew very well.

It was the face I saw every time I looked in a mirror.

‘…Ah.’

I let out a mental groan and opened my eyes wide.

Yes, I remembered.

I finally remembered.

I never returned to my homeland. I couldn’t return.

Just before boarding the plane heading home, I was assassinated by an unknown person and met my death right there!

Why, why had I forgotten?

No, I didn’t forget.

Why had I been mistaken?

In the shock that felt like thunder striking my mind, I finally realized.

The years of memories and experiences I thought I had after returning to my homeland were all fabricated lies.

Begging for jobs was an illusion.

The cold treatment from my countrymen was something I never experienced.

Even the memories of locking myself in a room, drinking heavily, and immersing myself in games were wrong.

War of Remnant?

Such a game…

…never existed in the first place.