Chapter 246

People who lived in the age of rampant plague grew up hearing stories of the “cruel beast.”

“Stay out that late, and the evil god will carry you off.”

“Who’s making all that noise? The evil god will come and snatch you up in his jaws!”

“Go on, live your whole life being selfish! May the evil god take you!”

Had Seo Jio heard them, he would have been dumbfounded. ‘What am I, a tiger?’

At any rate, that was how people had once been. Ater had been one of those children. In that age, the evil god’s existence had already become inseparable from everyday life. Wariness and terror of Arjio filled the deepest recesses of their hearts and minds.

But the Arjio he met in person was different.

“Have you eaten?”

“Have you done your exercises for the day?”

“You’ll cry yourself into a collapse.”

He kept appearing out of nowhere, casually checking on Ater, then disappearing again.

“...”

He probably did it because he knew Ater was afraid of him.

‘But the evil god?’

That terrifying Demon King, being considerate?

‘I simply can’t get used to this.’

That was what he had thought at first. It was true that, with Arjio’s help, Ater had been reborn as a whole human being. He felt grateful for that, too. But gratitude could not wash away his terror of the evil god all at once.

‘I don’t know why he’s chosen to disguise himself in that form...’

Yet things changed with time. Ater, who had been little better than a madman, gradually regained his composure. He could feel his broken mind adjusting to his restored body.

“Finally found a little breathing room?”

“... You’re right. I’m doing quite a bit better.”

“You look quite human now.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“Well done.”

Naturally, his anxiety about Arjio also began to subside.

‘It couldn’t be helped.’

Arjio had freed Ater from an eternity of torment. He was the first god to save him when he called his name. He also wore a human form. They ate together, talked, and asked after each other.

When echoes of the past drove Ater into raving fits, Arjio gave him time. It was exactly what he needed. Time to think. Time to sort things out. Arjio helped him take care of himself.

‘It would be stranger if that didn’t put me at ease.’

Just look at today.

“I think it was roughly like this.”

“... Yes, it was. Though this is so well made that it feels rather different from something wanderers typically eat.”

“Still, isn’t it enough that you enjoy eating it? But my failure to recreate the dish you remembered is a grievous blow to my pride. Next time, I shall try to make a more proper jerky soup.”

“I suspect putting any more effort into it will only produce an even tastier soup.”

All Ater had said was that he wanted jerky soup, and Arjio had cooked it himself and brought it over.

“I keep thinking this, but it’s remarkable that you... are such a good cook.”

Strange was closer to the truth. Cooking was work for servants. Nobles regarded it as menial labor. Arjio had once been a noble himself, and even before that consideration came his imposing image as the “Demon King.” For such a being to cook with his own hands...

‘And for a commoner like me, at that.’

Granted, all those distinctions belonged to a world that no longer existed.

‘Still, I can’t help feeling awkward.’

Ater was even one of the “champions” who had sealed him away. To this day, it felt strange that the evil god expressed no resentment over it. Ater himself could never have done the same.

“... You did say that as a human, you lived as a wanderer much like us, so I suppose it isn’t all that strange. The splendor of your ruins must still be deeply ingrained in my memory.”

“My home was certainly dazzling back then.”

Arjio readily took up the conversation.

“There was a great deal of treasure offered from all over.”

“You received treasure, too? I heard plenty of stories about you devouring living human sacrifices.”

“I do think human sacrifices became particularly numerous after I attained divinity, but during my lifetime I received more gold, silver, and jewels. Surely it is only natural to value life above wealth?”

“Ah, so that’s how the story became distorted...”

“I loved decorating my home. Did you know? Of the countless saints offered to the Black Forest, I was the only one to live past twenty. In other words, I was the first saint to travel in and out of the forest.”

His story was quite fascinating.

“I brought all the riches I plundered or received as gifts back to my home. These ruins, that is. Perhaps that part of my identity lingered so strongly that I maintained those surroundings even after becoming an evil god and losing nearly all reason...”

“So your memories of that time are incomplete?”

“They used to be. Not anymore. Fortunately, a good opportunity allowed me to put myself in order. Though recalling the memories of the many saints who came before ‘me’ takes a little effort.”

“Does having so many selves merged together not cause you any discomfort?”

“I’ve never particularly thought so. The hands, feet, and eyes you were born with don’t feel uncomfortable, do they? It merely takes effort to become fully aware of their existence and learn to use them.”

The evil god asked, “Are you finding life here tolerable?”

“Given my circumstances, I couldn’t find a more comfortable place to live.”

“So you think, but you’ve spent all your time inside the ruins.”

“... You do realize how large these ruins are, don’t you?”

The ruins were nearly the size of an entire castle town. That meant not just the enormous, majestic building where the lord resided, but the lands of the villages surrounding its walls as well.

“This place is practically a city. I had no time to spare when I came as a champion, or when I fled here from people, so I’ve only recently begun exploring. It really is larger than anything I imagined.”

“I’m glad you seem to be enjoying the sights.”

“It’s less splendid than it used to be, when it was full of every kind of treasure, but in a way... it’s easier on the eyes, which makes it more comfortable. Frankly, when you were here as the Demon King, the ruins weren’t exactly an ideal tourist destination.”

“From the sound of it, were you interested in studying ruins before?”

“When the champions visited this place, I was the one who uncovered the truth of the Black Forest.”

He had been a librarian in the royal library.

“A post almost impossible for a commoner to attain. In short, my talents were exceptional enough to overcome my low birth and take all those nobles down a peg.”

The evil god put on a look of surprise.

“A man of your physique was a librarian?”

“... Why is that the part that surprises you?”

“I’ve met very few people taller than myself.”

“I am taller than average, but... there must have been plenty among the champions. My memories are hazy, but there were certainly people taller than me.”

“Good thing I met you as the Demon King, then.”

“It wasn’t particularly good for us. Why would you say that?”

“Because I could look down at you? Having to look up at people would wound the pride of any self-respecting Demon King.”

“Aha, so that’s why... I see...”

Ater felt oddly deflated, and laughter escaped him.

“Have I told you this? I was surprised by how much more down-to-earth you are than I imagined.”

“Be thankful that I, the last saint, took control.”

“I couldn’t possibly be more grateful.”

But the more accustomed he grew to this peace, the more his deeply ingrained anxiety began to creep back.

“...”

Ater was grateful to this evil god.

‘He saved me.’

The only being to answer his call and save him. His debt to Arjio was beyond words. He probably could not repay it even if he offered up himself.

‘But at the same time, I’m growing more and more attached to him...’

And that frightened him.

* * *

It was something he had been thinking about ever since he first regained his “senses.”

‘Can I say this being is genuine?’

An evil god formed from the merging of countless victims of wrath and hatred. Yet the one who had saved Ater and treated him so warmly ever since called himself “Arjio”—the last saint.

But what was a god? Their truths and falsehoods could not be distinguished by human standards. His true nature might be that evil god of wrath, rather than the merciful, unassuming “Arjio” he was now.

‘If so, I must do my part.’

The cruel beast had been falsely accused of many things, but there was also much he had truly done. If that apocalyptic war was destined to repeat itself, Ater had to prevent it.

‘Even if repaying kindness with betrayal condemns me to that eternal torment all over again.’

That was Ater’s duty.

‘... But I can’t be certain of anything.’

How could one know whether a god was genuine?

“Would you have time to talk today?”

“You’re asking to talk first, for a change. Is something the matter?”

“There’s something I’ve been wondering about.”

“I’m always happy to make time for you.”

“Thank you for saying so.”

In the end, Ater decided to ask him directly.

“I want to trust you. Could you tell me how I can be sure?”

“...”

At that, Arjio was dumbfounded.

“...?”

“Oh... You seemed to have something weighing heavily on your mind. Was this it?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re asking me directly?”

“Yes.”

“What on earth is wrong with you? I’m utterly baffled. If I told you, ‘This evil god is perfectly safe and harmless, so trust me without another thought,’ would you believe it?”

“Probably not.”

“What a peculiar fellow you are.”

At Jio’s response, Ater gritted his teeth, looking embarrassed—or perhaps aggrieved.

“... Wh’t else’m I s’posed t’do...?”

“In a human language, please.”

“What else am I supposed to do when I’m dealing with an evil god?”

“I don’t know whether to call that giving up or being wise...”

Jio rubbed his chin in thought, then raised his head.

“Can’t we simply keep living like this?”

“I’m too anxious for that.”

“I don’t understand why everyone who knows me is so desperate to define what I am. Human, evil god, ghost, whatever—can’t we simply eat, have fun, and enjoy ourselves?”

“It isn’t easy to relax and enjoy yourself like that.”

“Do you analyze and define every single friend you make? I feel sorry for you. Being too clever isn’t always a blessing.”

“Ordinary people you meet in daily life aren’t the same as an evil god with a thoroughly tangled past. You can’t feel safe around a bomb that might go off at any moment just because it looks round and harmless.”

“So fussy.”

He did have a prickly streak.

“Hmm...”

He probably wanted trust that would never crumble.

“There is something you don’t know.”

“What is it?”

“No trust in this world is ever complete.”

We humans naturally grow into adults through shocking betrayals like discovering that Santa Claus was really our parents.

“There is no trust that lasts a lifetime. We all trust, get hurt, and grab each other by the collar, filling the gaps in that trust with friendship and love. Living beings cannot exist within perfect order.”

“... I understand what you’re saying. But what I need isn’t trust in a relationship. I need to believe that you won’t become the evil god you were back then. Any other kind of trust is my responsibility.”

“Then why do you think I would go back to being that?”

“You said your heart was missing.”

Ater exhaled and continued.

“Your heart. The most important part.”

Arjio had once said that he was not whole, because the effects of the champions’ seal still lingered. The evil god as he was now could not be called complete.

“I want to know what form you would take if you were whole.”

“Oh, I see.”

What a brave fellow he was.

“Then would you care to open it?”

“... The seal?”

“The evil god’s coffin.”

“Is that all right?”

“I see no reason why not.”

After all, even that remained intact only because Jio had chosen to stay confined.

(To be continued)