Chapter 159
The Worth of Life
You have died.
Save point 'Death' has been initialized.
"AAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Recalling the sight, Sylas shuddered. Even having lived through it, he couldn't believe it had happened. In fact, if there wasn't a notification that he kept bringing up over and over again, he might have thought he had imagined the whole fight in his head--he was certainly insane enough for it. However, the notification confirmed it.
Lives taken using Heart Puncture: 1/10
Eerily, the count persisted through death, as though the death itself was inconsequential. Taking a sip of wine, his gaze drifted toward the distant horizon. He was strong. Not merely 'human strong'--but beyond that. Though it did come at the expense of his life, it was an overkill to begin with. It wasn't just the Shadow that had been eradicated--but everything within the vicinity of the two of them.
Remembering that last glimpse before the darkness overtook him... his breathing grew stifled. The shock on the man's face, the utter annihilation of everything... lifting his arm, he looked at it, knowing he had done that. It was possible, now, he knew--possible to march south.
In a few loops, he was confident in beating the Shadow without dying himself. After... there'll likely be a new Save Point, but he'd already decided, he'd reject them all. Even if it takes billions of runs, he'll do a single, perfect run from the 'Death' until whatever the last quest he was supposed to complete.
Infinity was equally infinitesimally small compared to the pain of that day, one that still cut and lacerated him every time he died. Taking a sip, the cold winds of winter whipped away at him, but to no avail. They were like homely drafts in the peak of the summer's heat to him.
"It all feels so small, all of a sudden," he mumbled.
"What feels so small?" a familiar, yet distant voice, formed a sense of deja vu for him. Glancing back, he saw a woman in a maid's outfit looking at him inquisitively. Ah, the chick that leads the cult, Sylas grinned inwardly. After venting a few times, he put the cult on the back-burner, too interested in testing himself against the Shadow.
"Join me," Sylas invited her.
"I--I wouldn't dare--"
"We can either talk," Sylas said. "Or I can visit your homely village in the mountain and find you on that summit."
"!!!!" the woman's eyes widened into saucers as she stumbled back, seemingly wanting to leap off of the castle's tower and into her death.
"It's pointless," Sylas said, seeming disinterested. "Long gone are the days when death was an escape. Sit. I just wanna learn... your purpose."
"... purpose?"
"Hm," Sylas nodded. "Is it truly the glory of the Empire?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"That's right, I won't," Sylas nodded as the woman climbed up and sat down next to him. "I don't believe in Kingdoms, Empires, nations."
"What do you believe in, then?"
"Not much, I'm afraid," Sylas chuckled. "Recently, I've begun believing, once again, that I might yet have hope for happiness, somewhere down the line. You said you weren't responsible for the hand."
"When did I say that?!"
"Do you know who is?" Sylas asked, glancing at her.
"... what does it matter? You have seen it. Nobody stands a chance against it."
"Possibly," Sylas shrugged. "I'd still like to know."
"I don't," she said. "Magic, however, was not Gods'. Take that as you will."
"You have caused so much pain and suffering," Sylas said. "Yet have managed to convince yourself it's for a good cause. Minds... are so strange."
"..."
"I'm not judging," Sylas chuckled. "Well, a bit. Mostly because... I'm the same. One day, in a very distant future, in a perfect run of this whole story, I will kill you, as well all those even remotely responsible for what happened herre. And in my mind, it will be justified. But, undoubtedly, sometime in the future, when the books of the cardinal times are written, they'll speak of me as the butcher of the innocent. Someone who indiscriminately murdered whoever he wanted. There will be a lot of blood associated with my name. And yet, in my mind, I'll have justified it all."
"--isn't that just how wars are?" the woman quizzed. "Two armies devout to their convictions clashing?"
"Armies? Is it ever, truly, armies?" Sylas mumbled, taking a sip. "I don't believe in wars, either, yet to wars I must march. I have so many regrets that I wonder whether you share the burden, or are you regret-free."
"... you're just a naive hypocrite," the woman said coldly. "And you think you can kill us?"
"Naive hypocrite, eh?" Sylas took another sip of wine. "I'suppose. The longer I live in this world, the more I realize how easy it is to abandon humanity. Good people, truly good people... they die young, I've learned. Monsters like us latch onto them and stuck them dry until there is nothing left. As they say, you either die pure or grow old enough to be corrupted. And I'm old... really fucking old," he added, glancing at her. "That's why I can make a choice that most of you won't."
"What choice?" the woman asked, frowning.
"You spent all this time trying to broker deals with the dead," Sylas replied. "Dancing in the shadows in this feeble attempt to weaken the Kingdom, as to have a smidgen of hope that, one day, you may reign the throne. But... wasn't there an easier way out?"
"What?"
"Gods."
"You monster!! We would rather die!!" the woman exclaimed angrily.
"Really? How is making deals with the dead any different?" Sylas asked. "You give up a piece of your soul for a handful of power. Where that piece of the soul goes... does it really matter?"
"Humph, what would a child like you know?! Gods... Gods don't ask for a piece--they ask for everything and give nothing in return. They condemned our entire homeland simply because we wanted to be free! Our sin was not wanting the chains to bind us! And they sentenced us all to death for it!"
"What was this castle's sin, then?"
"H-huh?"
"What was this castle's sin that you condemned us all to death?" Sylas asked.
"..."
"Those looking up too much with feasting anger in their eyes forget to look down," he continued. "On your way to fulfill whatever you think your purpose is, you are just perpetuating the cycle. Over and over and over again... we all do it. Gods, too, sought power--perhaps from fear, perhaps from greed, perhaps for the desire to conquer those who gave them that power. I won't claim to know the story of this world, 'cause I know fuck all. But... at the very least, Gods didn't betray other Gods. They united, instead, against other races. You... you betrayed other people."
"Our homeland--"
"Is ancient fucking history," Sylas interrupted. "Over a thousand years ago. There's no longer any homeland. There's a myth of a place that once was. And who in this castle had a hand in your homeland's downfall? We're all hypocrites, but goddamn, woman. Stop coating your petty greed with some holy cause and crusade. The worth of life... what do you think it is?"
"H-huh?" the woman stuttered a question.
"Never mind," Sylas sighed. "I already promised the Prince his throne. I'm just confused about why you want him on the Throne. Doesn't matter. I've contemplated pointless sophistry enough. There are weird cocks that need to die waiting for me. So should you," he added, abruptly taking out a sword from the scabbard and slashing out, beheading the woman in a singular motion. Her eyes widened further in shock as the last of his voice trickled into her ears. "In another lifetime, though."
Finishing off the wine, he departed from the tower and went toward the castle's training grounds, the same ones that were buried under snow. However, as per usual, the latter melted in his presence, leaving behind slightly wet and muddy dirt. Though he could go south immediately and challenge the Shadow again, there were still quite a few things to mull over from the battle--the slow start, how to build up his 'Berserk' state more quickly, the potential of opening up with 'Heart Puncture' and regenerating the sacrificed heart during the fight...
They were all possibilities, and he had to test them. He also had the feeling that the Shadow never truly went out--namely because Sylas' sacrifice was well beyond what he calculated. After all, even Sylas was shocked by it--let alone a stranger who just saw a half-naked man challenge him to a life-and-death duel out of nowhere. The next time, Sylas mulled. I'll bleed him dry of attacks. I need to see how far I can go without using Heart Puncture. Even if I can't kill him, it will take him a long time to kill me. Should be enough to see just what kind of secrets he might be hiding...