Chapter 399: Heroes Are Born in Troubled Times

Toppling a single, small block and setting it upright again was easy.

However, a tower built from thousands, even hundreds of thousands of blocks is difficult both to knock down and to restore.

The conflict between vampires and the Sanctum had endured alongside human history, a towering fortress of hostility spanning billions of people and dozens of nations.

This flow, which began in the distant past and continued to the present, was so vast and natural that it was accepted as truth.

Vampires loathe the Sanctum, and the Sanctum despises vampires.

Both sides seek to eradicate one another.

In this struggle, powerless humans either conform and obey or, failing that, perish.

But is that truly inevitable?

Even without the power of Divines, humanity continues to change the world.

And humanity is the world itself.

Thus, humans can change humans.

It is not a remarkable concept.

After all, vampires, too, were once human. They even changed others—transforming whole, healthy people into nothing more than their next meal.

If vampires could do it, then so could other humans.

The only boundary between possibility and impossibility is the presence or absence of power.

Unfortunately, the Thunderarch and her Thunder Guardians lacked the strength to overcome the calamity that was the Elders.

Calling that incompetence would be too cruel.

If power was so abundant, the Elders would not have stood out in history as such overwhelming forces.

The blood of the dying would merely become another drop of ink, deepening the cruelty of the Elders’ legacy.

Unless, of course, there was someone present with the power to change it all.

“Iyaaah! This is so frustrating! So frustrating! Sooo frustrating!”

In the midst of the massacre, Kavila was seething with rage.

Her expertise lay in black magic that used blood and bones as offerings.

The most efficient way to exert physical force through it was to infuse power into vessels, creating familiars.

Gifted with the darkness of the Progenitor, Kavila had stitched shadows into her puppets, crafting familiars that would not break.

Like demons crawling up from the depths of hell, her creations wielded their blades.

But while the darkness itself did not rust, the vessels containing it could still shatter.

The relentless power of Wither was systematically breaking her toys apart.

The blades they wielded lost their edges and their skeletal joints snapped apart. Familiars that were meant to be immortal crumbled into useless remnants the moment they were completed.

It was as if someone had proudly put an intricate doll on display, only for another to immediately smash it to pieces.

For a puppeteer, nothing could be more humiliating.

“This is the first order I’ve personally received from my sister in three hundred years, and you dare interfere?! I swear, I will kill you! No—I’ll make you into a doll!”

Kavila pulled out a bone saw and shouted furiously.

However, she did not immediately act on her words—not because she was all talk, but because Tyr stopped her.

Without saying a word, merely with a glance, Tyr halted Kavila, then spoke to Peru in a calm and measured tone.

“I have no desire to lay my hands on you after the journey we’ve had together. If my indifference has cast a deep shadow, then hide within it. The darkness is merciful enough to conceal a single person.”

Peru stood within arm’s reach of death, yet the Progenitor was choosing not to kill her.

Sensing both arrogance and mercy in those words, Peru responded.

“…Then take him and leave. Stop further destruction in Claudia.”

Without taking her eyes off me, Tyr answered.

“They destroyed my treasures first. They shattered everything precious to me. If they have broken something, then they must be broken in turn—only then is it fair.”

“…You intend to kill every human in Claudia? Just because the Thunderarch believed in the Sanctum?”

“I am not so ruthless. However…”

Tyr’s crimson eyes shone with a chilling light as she declared.

“I will turn this land upside down and uproot every trace of the Sanctum. Wild weeds must be eradicated down to their roots.”

The process would be soaked in blood.

The very name “vampire” inspired fear and hatred in many.

Moreover, vampires required human blood to survive.

Wherever they passed, the scent of blood followed—whether from corpses or from food.

However, Claudia was Peru’s home.

She could not allow the cities of the Fallen Dominion to fall under anyone’s rule.

“…We don’t care. What the vampires are, who the Sanctum is, or what history lies between you two. Just leave. Please.”

“You will come to understand.”

Tyr’s voice was merciless.

“You will see, carved into history with your blood, what becomes of those who call upon the name of the Sky God beneath the fangs of a vampire.”

As it had always been.

As it would always be, so long as the Sanctum endured.

Peru had no means left to resist.

Like all the others, all she could do was survive and bear witness.

“…”

As Peru gritted her teeth, drowning in helplessness—

– Thump.

My heart pounded violently.

Tyr felt my body twitch and looked down at me.

“Hu?”

Her voice carried a hopeful anticipation.

And I shot up from where I lay.

It wasn’t some dramatic awakening after witnessing human death.

I wasn’t defying death to return.

I had simply, at last, figured out how to use the Divine’s power within me.

The power to summon lightning?

No, it wasn’t something that grand.

In fact, the secret Franc had tried to hide wasn’t about the overwhelming and deafening power of lightning at all.

All I had gained was a tiny fraction of that power—just enough to manipulate the lightning within this frail body.

Ironically, that was exactly what the Lightning Thief had wanted to keep most hidden.

A sharp sensation coursed through my spine, clearer than ever.

I clenched my fist.

The lightning running through my body moved according to my will, curling my fingers inward.

I had made a fist countless times before, but this was the first time I truly understood the mechanism behind it.

I had seized control over the will that governed my consciousness.

The Divine of Lightning, Franc.

I had glimpsed the meaning he had kept buried.

Now, I could command the small streaks of lightning flowing through my body as I pleased.

I exhaled deeply.

…What a completely useless ability.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

A power that forcibly holds together a broken body and forces it to move?

That’s just overexertion.

If I passed out, it was for a reason—it’s my body’s way of declaring a strike.

Wouldn’t it be nice if someone respected that?

What’s the point of collecting Divines if this is all I get?

Still, there was work to do.

“Hu?”

I ignored the voice calling me and approached Peru.

Standing before her, I carefully calculated my breath and adjusted my lungs before speaking.

Only I would understand how difficult it was to even utter these words.

“Are you still worried about destroying it?”

“…”

“Even at the brink of death, are you afraid to use your own power, fearing that it might ruin this country?”

The power was in her very hands, yet she still hesitated.

The only power she had ever wielded was Wither.

Even now, despite possessing the Golden Lord’s power, despite the Lightning Thief’s gaze upon her, Peru still couldn’t bring herself to unleash it.

Not because she lacked experience—but because she was afraid of whether she should.

“Humans always waste time on useless worries. The grand laws of nature, the lofty will of the heavens—acting as if one wrong move will bring catastrophe, but it’s utterly pointless.”

No other beast attaches meaning to every single action.

And yet, humans invented ideas like “life’s purpose,” “value,” and “meaning,” pretending as though there’s a right way to live.

They act as if truth is an immutable constant, and that they must strive to conform to it.

How absurd.

How very unlike beasts.

“If humans are part of nature, then everything they do is also part of it. If there really is such a thing as the ‘will of the heavens,’ then the human will must be included in it. To say that something ‘must never be done’—that’s seeing humans as something far greater than they really are. Are there things we can and cannot do? There’s no such thing. We do it because we can. We realize it’s possible because we try.”

I glanced at Tyr.

“There’s a living example right there. A single will, held for a thousand years, can become common sense. It can become truth itself. Even though nothing was ever decided from the start, it can still be eternal.”

There is no truth among beasts.

Sheep do not see wolves as their sworn enemies and seek revenge.

If they did, the concept of shepherd dogs would never have existed.

Nothing is ever set in stone.

It is only beasts who choose and decide.

And there is nothing noble or special about that—it is just because it is.

“…Are you telling me to fight?”

“How do you move forward without taking a single step? Well, if you’re still afraid, running away is always an option.”

“…Can I do it?”

“As long as you don’t abandon it.”

I simply gave her the push she needed to make that ordinary decision with confidence.

Peru clenched the Golden Bell.

Her trembling arms made the bell’s chime sound as weak as a dying insect.

She struggled to shake it.

“…From this moment on—”

But those sensitive to power immediately froze.

They felt it along their spines, and all at once, they turned towards her.

Toward a scene where a power, far too great to belong to a single human, was being unleashed.

A small resolve transformed into power.

A simple desire became reality.

The soft chime of the bell spread through the mist.

The Golden Lord’s power of restoration indiscriminately reversed everything back to its original state.

Severed wounds were forcibly sealed.

Broken limbs reconnected.

It wasn’t mere healing or regeneration—it was restoration and reconstruction.

The Thunder Guardians, creations born from alchemy, were granted a brief reprieve from death.

And beyond that, something that had lain dormant stirred at the sound of the bell.

A spark flashed from the Thunder God’s remains.

The massive hunk of metal began to take shape, rising to its feet.

Clouds spiraled inward, drawn to it.

Lightning-infused storm clouds seeped into its skeletal frame, forming a body.

Thunderbolts flickered in its eyes, and hurricanes howled from its maw.

Restored by alchemy, the Thunder God stood behind Peru and roared.

[—-!!!!]

Now that she had decided to wield power, no hesitation remained.

The very destruction of the Thunder God, once Claudia’s greatest hope, had been undone.

With the restored Thunder God at her back, Peru spoke.

“…Beyond this point, I will not allow it.”