Chapter 128 - From the Same Homeland (1)

1

"Hero, have you come to your senses?"

Kim ■ blinked blankly.

A ruined wasteland.

He stood there motionless, holding a sword.

"Where...?"

"You were fighting a fierce battle until just now."

A voice came from the sword. The goddess's voice—the voice of the constellation who had summoned him. Kim ■ recognized her, yet his mind felt strangely hazy.

How had he ended up here?

It was as though soot had coated his memories. Even when he tried to recall them, even when he tried to dig them out with his fingers, all he found was the dry crumble of black dust.

"Hero... you fell into an enemy trap."

The goddess's voice trembled with tears.

"Their ambush was more than you could possibly handle. If you had kept fighting as you were, defeat was certain... So you used the Sword of Deliverance's power for the first time."

"Deliverance..."

"Yes. It is the power to save as much as you discard. You discarded [one character of your name]."

Only then did Kim ■ understand what the soot was.

"I see. That's right. I did."

He had discarded one character of his name forever.

Now Kim ■ could no longer remember what his original name had been.

No matter what.

In exchange, he had gained the scene before him. A single strike of his sword had reduced everything around him to ruins.

The people who had plotted their wicked schemes and attacked him had evaporated without a trace. Once again, the hero had survived an ordeal that should have been impossible to survive.

"... Not bad."

Kim ■ murmured.

"I never liked that name anyway. To think I gained this much power by giving up just one character."

He was mildly surprised that his name had been worth so much.

Not just his name—the life he had lived before coming to this other world had been utterly worthless.

At least, that was how Kim ■ saw it.

"Hwiya."

"Yes, Hero..."

"I think I can save this world a little faster now."

Discard worthless time to obtain a worthwhile view.

Kim ■ knew what he had to do.

"Before that, let's make me a new name."

Lefanta Aegim.

In the ancient tongue, Lefanta meant "human of the wilderness."

Kim ■ had never called himself Lefanta. But at some point, people had begun calling him that and revering him.

Kim ■ became a human from the wilderness.

2

The land swept by the wizards was a wasteland.

I became a gust of wind and crossed those ruins.

The silver-haired man watched me calmly.

Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

First Form.

Flowing Sword of Death by Starvation.

The gesture of a child who had starved to death rode my sword's path. Fingernails clawing at the sky. With the most primal movement and the most primal scream, I slashed at the Heaven-Slaying Star's head.

"... Maximize senses. I discard one hour."

The Heaven-Slaying Star gripped his sword.

CLANG!

Blade met blade. He blocked my attack and met my gaze without expression.

Blue eyes.

"An unusual sword art."

He held his journal in his other hand.

"Is it a martial art performed by using aura as internal energy? Traditional martial artists are said to obsess over internal energy cultivation methods. You likely learned this sword art from an unorthodox faction rather than the orthodox factions, and that would be the Demonic Cult you mentioned..."

I swung my sword.

Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

Second Form.

Numbing Sword of Death by Thirst.

A dry wind blew across the wasteland. Musty sand and dust scattered through the air. Death by thirst. There had been someone who died parched, unable to drink a single mouthful despite the seawater everywhere around him. To him, the world was a desert. I summoned a desert and sent it raging at the Heaven-Slaying Star.

"Enhance defense. In exchange, I discard the taste of water."

Facing the desert wind, the Heaven-Slaying Star blinked.

CLANG!

Once again, the tip of his sword barred my sword's path.

"This manner of fighting is not good, Death King."

His voice flowed, as dry as a desert.

"You are a just man. If your justice is built on sound logic, you..."

"Baraya."

I recited a prayer.

"Baraya."

The one and only prayer I permitted myself.

Red aura howled. My blood seethed. The memories I had built up, the scenes of death I had collected, the chain of cause and effect I had walked—all answered the prayer.

"Agabaraya."

There had been a death unable to drink despite being surrounded by seawater. There had been a death submerged in seawater, unable to breathe. There were so many ways for people to die that every alley I had once seen, every patch of ground I had once trodden, was a place where someone's death was recorded.

Thus, the essence of all beneath heaven was demonic.

Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

Third Form.

Brimming Sword of Death by Drowning.

"..."

The silver-haired man swung his sword.

"Enhance interception. I discard the smell of the sea."

"How much do you think you can keep discarding?"

"As long as my life continues."

I clenched my teeth.

'Now I understand.'

As I unleashed wave after wave of attacks, I glared at the Heaven-Slaying Star, who blocked each in turn. I glared at the silver-haired man. And in the sight of him, I understood.

'This man was one of the endings I could have reached.'

A hero who had honed his demonic arts to their utmost limit.

A hundred and fifty years ago, my attendant spirit had encountered this hero.

That was why, when he fought my Master, he had declared:

["I'm going to teach this kid ways to be happy."]

What became of someone who did nothing but discard himself.

My attendant spirit had seen it firsthand and knew. And because he knew, he had fought my Master.

If I had not had my attendant spirit.

If I had never met Raviel.

If I had believed [I can sacrifice as many of my memories as I like].

Then, in the end, I would have become like the man before me.

"Lefanta Aegim!"

I swung my sword.

Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

Fourth Form.

Embracing Sword of Death by Freezing.

The Heaven-Slaying Star swung his sword.

"I discard warm winds and cold winds."

Our swords crossed.

"Did you speak of justice?"

"I spoke of justice."

Our eyes met.

"If I am just..."

"You would not threaten my life."

"You..."

"I..."

Our voices collided.

"Said that?"

"Said that."

The colliding voices pushed against each other.

I shouted like an angry wave.

"Then what is your justice?"

Lefanta Aegim's voice spread like rain, covering my shout.

"My justice. It is to eradicate the constellations."

"Why?"

Lefanta Aegim had said he could not answer.

But as my attendant spirit had told me, he was now in a position where he had no choice but to talk. To buy time he could discard, he opened his mouth.

"... Constellations are beings that rob humans of their freedom of choice."

He spoke of justice.

"Good is founded upon human freedom. Therefore, constellations that infringe upon it are evil."

He spoke of good and evil.

"You said you defeated the constellation called [The Immortal Evangelist of Happiness]. Then you will know. The humans living there would have been infected by the constellation without even the right to choose, forced to be happy."

He spoke of rights.

"What of [The Warhorse of the Eternal Plains]? Beneath that constellation's hooves, a world becomes nothing but a battlefield. An arena. Even everyday conversations turn into bitter arguments. There is no room for human freedom there."

He spoke of freedom.

Swallowing every word of that rain-like voice, I shouted.

"Did you say humans must be free?"

"Yes."

"Then..."

I swung my sword.

"What are you?"

"I am..."

"A machine that does nothing but follow what's written in a journal! What freedom is there in that?"

"A valid point."

Even as he swung his sword with his right hand, the Heaven-Slaying Star did not release the journal in his left. His indifferent gaze scanned it.

"My answer is this. If discarding my freedom alone can save everyone else's freedom, then that is what I ought to do. I made that decision, and at least in the moment I decided, I decided freely. Therefore..."

"Don't make me laugh!"

Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

Fifth Form.

Striking Sword of Death by Poison.

"How does doing that make you any different from the constellations you just described?"

"..."

The Heaven-Slaying Star hesitated. But only for a moment. He swiftly blocked the strike I unleashed, gathering up the world's poison.

"I discard the fragrance of every flower."

"You spend a week smelling flowers, watching sunsets, drinking, eating, feeling the wind—and none of it means anything! All you do is discard and discard!"

"... Constellations harm the world. They infect humans with their mental images and phenomena. Within them, humans become one. Since there is no choice in that..."

The Heaven-Slaying Star recited his journal.

"To give humans at least the freedom to choose, I must destroy the constellations."

"How is that..."

Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

Sixth Form.

Flowing Sword of Death by Illness.

"Any different from what you do..."

Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

Seventh Form.

Beating Sword of Death by Cudgel.

"That's what I'm asking!"

"... I discard all the dreams I dreamed during the week. I discard the pain of being wounded. The sights of morning, midday, evening, and night..."

"You only follow what's written in your journal! The constellations are better than you! At least they know what they're doing. You just act according to words on a page!"

Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

Eighth Form.

Linked Sword of Death by Burning.

"Your name does not mean [one who kills the constellations in heaven]!"

The Heaven-Slaying Star.

"You are [a constellation that kills heaven]!"

The star that slays heaven.

"If killing constellations is your sole mission and duty—then kill yourself first! Constellation that slays heaven!"

Divine Art of the Demonic Heaven.

Ninth Form.

Sword of Self-Slaughter.

My sword pierced the Heaven-Slaying Star. But what its tip cut was not his body. It was his journal. The ancient, battered notebook from which he had never managed to tear his gaze.

My blade split it down the middle.

"..."

Countless pages flew through the air.

His days scattered like flower petals.

"... I discard one second."

The Heaven-Slaying Star murmured.

He had fought a fierce battle against the magic towers' spiders, then fought me without respite. All the memories he had accumulated over a week were exhausted. At last, the Heaven-Slaying Star had run out of ammunition.

"I discard—one second."

Even after reaching that finale, the Heaven-Slaying Star did not stop functioning. He still had something left to discard. No, things to discard kept coming endlessly.

"I discard one second."

Moment after moment.

The Heaven-Slaying Star sacrificed the endlessly continuing present.

As he sacrificed it, he swung his sword, raised his aura, and protected himself.

"I discard one second."

Yes.

"I discard one second."

That is your scream.

"I discard one second."

The Demonic Heaven is a sword that answers every scream.

"I discard one second."

I had come this far by tracing the screams of the snowfield, the screams of a heart, the screams of a child. And at their end, naturally, would lie your scream—the scream of the one who had created them all.

"I discard one second."

The Heaven-Slaying Star murmured and swung his sword. With no tone in his voice, he was colorless. With no heart in his eyes, he was indifferent. Colorless and indifferent, the man continued to block my strikes, his silver hair falling into disarray.

"One second..."

Then my blade cut into his shoulder.

"... I discard."

He did not stop.

"One second."

He kept swinging his sword without stopping. Blood flowed from his shoulder. Blood burst from his calf. With each successive strike of my sword, red fell upon the ashen wasteland.

"I dis..."

I drove in close. The Heaven-Slaying Star could not stop my charge.

THUD!

Shoved backward by me, he fell. I pinned him down so he could not move and raised my sword high.

"Lefanta Aegim."

"One second..."

"I will gather your scream."

And I pierced the Heaven-Slayer's heart.

"..."

Blood surged up through the Heaven-Slaying Star's lips. His throat was blocked. His mouth was blocked. He looked up at me with expressionless eyes. Even as he looked up, his lips moved, but the blood stifled his voice.

"...second, ..."

But that is what screams are like.

"..."

Blood flowed from the Heaven-Slaying Star's heart, where his pulse resided, and his mouth, where his voice resided. It spread farther and farther in concentric circles. His silver hair, a shade between white and gray, soaked in the pool of blood.

"..."

Slowly.

He closed his eyes.

[Your existence becomes more distinct.]

A small voice rang out.

[Death King's level increases.]

[Your skill slots expand.]

[Your hunter rank is now C.]

[May good fortune be with you.]

It did not end there.

[Your existence becomes more distinct.]

[Death King's level increases.]

The Tower's voice proclaimed it.

As though the entire chain of cause and effect I had walked thus far had exploded at once.

[Your skill slots expand.]

[Your hunter rank is now B.]

[May good fortune be with you.]

Silence settled all around.

Quietly, I withdrew the sword from his heart. The Heaven-Slaying Star's corpse was docile. As though someone destined for death from the outset had closed his eyes, he lay expressionless in his own pool of blood.

At that moment.

['Lonely Seeker' is appalled by the Heaven-Slaying Star's death.]

['Eye Dwelling in the Labyrinth' is wary of you in the face of this unbelievable turn of events.]

['The Warhorse of the Eternal Plains' expresses surprise at the Heaven-Slaying Star's death.]

The worlds cried out in shock.