Chapter 363: The King Who Kills Others, The God Who Kills Himself (17)

I explained the situation to the Regressor and Tyr. I told them how I tried to persuade the Golden Lord, only for his wrath to turn towards the Dholes.

I also mentioned how Peru had stepped forward to stop him.

Bracing myself to be grabbed by the collar again, I was surprised when the Regressor simply nodded in agreement.

“Well, that can happen.”

“Pardon? ‘That can happen?’”

“Not everything goes as planned. Especially when it comes to unknown entities like the Golden Lord.”

｢I’ve also meddled with things and completely ruined them before. Like when I tried to stop the Military State by leveraging the Sanctum’s power to label them the axis of evil, which ended up sparking a world war.｣

This is strange.

When Peru or Hilde criticized me, it didn’t bother me at all, but now that the Regressor is agreeing with me, I feel like I’ve done something wrong.

Am I on the same level as the Regressor?

No way.

I’m definitely more normal than her.

I have to be.

… Right?

The Regressor, having taken it all in stride, generously reassured me.

“Anyway, good work. At least you stopped the war.”

“But because of me, the Fallen Dominion is on the brink of destruction.”

“It’s not you destroying it, is it? It’s the Golden Lord. No need to blame yourself.”

｢If you could fully control the Golden Lord, that would be even stranger. That sort of thing is only possible for the King of Sins. Still, this confirms that Hughes has the ability to communicate with the Arcanes. He claims to be from the Military State, but could he be an abandoned imperial prince? Well, his origins don’t matter much.｣

Why is this happening?

Why is she making me feel like trash?

Having grasped the situation, the Regressor stood up decisively.

“All right, let’s go.”

“Huh? Go where?”

“To stop the Golden Lord. We can’t let the Fallen Dominion fall, can we?”

The Regressor said it as though it were obvious.

Of course, it wasn’t.

Hilde, clearly taken aback, asked again.

“Leaving aside why the Fallen Dominion’s destruction is a problem, how do you plan to stop the Golden Lord?”

“We’ll figure it out when we get there. We might not be able to stop him on our own, but if Peru’s there, we might have a chance.”

“Peru didn’t even help us. Why should we risk our lives to stop the Golden Lord for her?”

“Just leaving it be isn’t an option.”

“Why not?! And why are we poking the rampaging bear?”

Ignoring Hilde, who was practically jumping in protest, the Regressor prepared to set out for real.

After taking a moment to gather herself and deciding on a rough course of action, the Regressor secured her swords, Chun-aeng and Jizan, and glanced around.

“Let’s go. As for directions…”

She trailed off, noticing something in the middle of the cornfield.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll need a guide.”

Finding the Golden Lord’s trail wasn’t difficult.

A straight, unmistakable path stretched out from the middle of the cornfield, carved by the Golden Lord himself.

Hilde “borrowed” a nearby Dhole’s cart, or so she claimed.

Though it was nothing more than a wheel-mounted wooden frame, it sufficed.

With a makeshift sail attached and Chun-aeng summoning wind, the cart propelled forward at speed.

The Golden Lord’s road had no bends or obstacles.

With Chun-aeng’s wind nullifying air resistance, we quickly left the cornfield behind, and in the distance, we spotted the Golden Lord entering the nearby city where we had met the Dominarch.

We all fell silent.

“R-Run!”

“God help us…!”

The reason was simple.

What words could we use to describe what we were seeing?

The Golden Lord… was like a mop.

Not in the sense that he was dirty, but in the sense that he wiped away filth to reveal a hidden surface beneath.

In the mosaic-like city near the cornfield, the Dholes had taken up residence.

Knowing they would leave someday, they treated the city with no care.

They stripped locks and hinges from doors and windows to sell, littered trash everywhere, and demolished walls or pillars as needed to make space.

The city was bustling but filthy.

The Golden Lord wiped away that filth like a mop.

As he marched, the grime of the Fallen Dominion peeled away, revealing the gleaming remnants of the Golden Empire beneath.

Scattered debris rose and reformed into bustling streets.

Within a 500-meter radius, everything was enveloped by the radiance of the Golden Empire.

The Golden Lord was like a massive cleaning tool dedicated to restoring a nation.

And… he removed humans as well.

Bodies were crushed, broken down into components the moment they entered his domain and ready to be repurposed into the brand new, pristine Empire.

Until now, the Golden Lord had largely ignored them, perhaps due to the presence of the Dominarch.

But now, he indiscriminately attacked the Dholes.

The city moved.

Dholes fleeing the chaos found their paths blocked.

While they hesitated, the Golden Lord’s homunculi descended upon them with relentless precision.

There was no escaping the homunculi of a Primarch.

No one was spared.

The Golden Lord’s vision for his Empire didn’t include humans.

“Everyone! Move this way! Get to the mounts as quickly as possible!”

The Dominarch, Hector, amplified his voice using a broad metal plate, urging everyone to escape.

The Dholes leveraged their greatest strength—mobility—to flee.

Though there were casualties, many still managed to survive.

Perhaps their survival didn’t sit well with the Golden Lord.

He made his next move.

The city trembled as if it were alive.

A Dhole sprinting on two legs suddenly felt something strange.

He had the strength to run, yet his legs grew heavier and his heart pounded as if it might burst.

At first, he thought it was fear taking its toll and pushed himself harder.

Then, he fell—and in that moment, he realized the exhaustion was not just in his mind.

His body scraped along the ground, sliding downward as if he had slipped on a steep incline.

Scratching at the stone floor with broken nails, he muttered under his breath.

“T-The city… is tilting…”

With those words, he tumbled down—toward the Golden Lord.

This city was the Golden Lord’s creation.

To deal with the pests hiding within it, he used a simple method: he folded the city.

It was as if a colossal clam had snapped shut.

The slanted streets became slides, sending the Dholes who hadn’t escaped tumbling downward.

Some managed to cling to the walls with their hands, but many were less fortunate—striking obstacles along the way or plummeting into the Golden Lord’s “resonance.”

While some remained alive, it was only a matter of time.

As the city closed its jaws, they would face one of two fates: falling to their deaths or succumbing to the Golden Lord’s resonance.

The terrified Dholes cried out in desperation.

“Help me! I’ll give you everything I have!”

“Save me! Anyone, please, get me out of here!”

But no matter how much they screamed, there was no way to save them.

Which Dholes would risk their own lives to save them?

Those who had escaped or were fortunate enough to be outside fled even farther, fearing the aftermath.

Then, the city stopped.

At the same time, one person surged against the flow, heading toward the city.

Riding atop Aurea was Peru.

As she approached, the closing city halted with a jolt, as if caught on something.

Peru’s ability had little effect on living beings, particularly strong, spirited creatures like her mount.

Sitting astride the snorting Aurea, Peru mentally mapped the structure of the city.

｢…The city’s bedrock has been transmuted into steel. The power source? Twisted Steel?｣

Steel possesses restorative force.

If you twist a steel rod like a braid, it exerts powerful energy to return to its original form.

The Golden Lord had used transmuted “twisted steel” as the city’s power source.

Peru, a Primarch who had also reached the pinnacle of alchemy, could not create such designs herself, but she could analyze them through observation.

She quickly identified the key.

｢…Then, the power source…｣

She would dismantle it.

Even steel’s restorative force disappears if its structure is destroyed.

Peru’s power could not create something from nothing.

No, that was not what it was meant to do.

She created nothingness from something.

Reaching toward her Spiritual World, Peru unleashed her power.

Metal objects can be melted down and reused.

Items crafted from recycled materials can undergo countless transformations through wear and remolding.

Alchemy operated in much the same way—an endless cycle, so long as there was sufficient cost.

Peru, born into a poor Dhole family, grew up recycling everything, often dozens of times.

Her prized tin doll had once been a wheel spoke, then a crowbar, and later transformed countless more times.

How much more could something change?

Fueled by childlike curiosity, Peru had honed her alchemy through that cherished doll.

She would transform it, restore it, alter its material, and animate it anew.

Her love for the doll and her passion for alchemy intertwined, making the doll her constant companion.

But even her doll had an end.

Like humans aging with time, the doll, exposed repeatedly to the forces of alchemy, reached a point of no return.

It no longer responded to alchemy, its body collapsing under its weight, corroded by impurities.

No matter how hard Peru tried to restore it, the doll’s fate was sealed.

Her efforts to piece it back together only hastened its end.

Eventually, the doll withered away.

All things must come to an end.

Alchemy, no matter how perfect, could only go as far as its wielder’s limitations allowed.

Magic, for all its wonder, remains bound by the constraints of the human who wields it.

Peru’s Unique Magic embodied the result of repeated transmutations—a material’s ultimate demise in the closed cycle of alchemy.

If alchemy was a journey given to a single object, her ability was the final destination.

Unique Magic: Finality of Gold.

.

..

…

– Crack.

Rusty steel fractured, its twisted structure collapsing under its own weight.

The city’s grip slackened.

Like a clam losing strength, its jaws unclenched.

With a rumble, the folding city unfurled.

Those who had been sliding toward the Golden Lord were thrown to the opposite side, escaping with their lives—albeit through perilous falls.

Walls that once barred the way, pillars that had supported them—all crumbled like sandcastles under Peru’s touch, clearing paths for the fleeing Dholes.

Even the homunculi couldn’t pursue them, lest they too fall victim to her power.

Amid the chaos, Peru—akin to the horseman of the apocalypse—charged toward the Golden Lord.

Even he couldn’t ignore her as she approached.

As he stood at the end of the gilded road, the Golden Lord turned his upon Peru.