<93. Hell of Distrust (21)>
Holy light pierced through, scattering the shadows. Tumors swelled. A dagger stabbed into flesh. A burst! Flesh melted away. Shadows grew denser.
The prisoner offered up each tumor created by holy magic as a sacrifice to his dark magic, using the clerics' attacks to grow stronger. It seemed like an endless vicious cycle, but the aliens had a reason for not stopping their assault.
"The life force consumed by dark magic has its limits!"
They believed that if the battle dragged on, the prisoner would eventually exhaust every last drop of life force and wither away. Or, if his life force ran out, he would be buried under a mass of tumors.
But now, the inquisitors began to doubt their judgment.
"This... this is insane!"
They had lost count of how many times the prisoner had sacrificed himself. Yet, he remained unscathed, unhesitant in stabbing himself. They feared that if the battle continued, he could keep this up all night.
"What kind of species is he? Even a dragon would have died after using up this much life force!"
The thought was cut off as a realization struck one of the inquisitors like a bolt of lightning.
Unlimited regeneration, not even granted to trolls.
An immense life force sustaining it all.
He recited a verse from scripture in his mind.
"The Prophet answered, 'They are those who carry an eternal wellspring of life within their hearts.'"
But that couldn't be!
"This is blasphemy!"
He desperately denied the thought, trying to steady his mind, but the confusion slowed his reactions.
Of course, Min-jun didn't miss this opportunity.
Swoosh!
Once again, shadows shot out like a whip, aiming for the High Patriarch's head. And this time, they made contact.
Slash!
The shadows bound the head, which radiated a divine light. The inquisitors screamed, attacking the black tendrils. But just before the thin darkness was severed, Min-jun flicked the end of the tendril with all his strength, hurling the head high into the air!
Whoosh!
A powerful wind swept through them. It was the dragon who had caused the sudden gust, reacting to Min-jun's mental command and soaring upward. It caught the head, which was shooting up in a near-straight line, in its front claws.
"Whew, got it!"
The moment the dragon secured the head, the battle on the ground came to a halt. Min-jun still had no intention of killing them, and the inquisitors' priority was the High Patriarch.
An alien shouted in bewilderment.
"Dragon! That word belongs to our order!"
Without responding, Ha-eun-seong waited for Min-jun's orders. The silence was broken by another cleric.
"You are not a prisoner, as you possess the body of a dragon. So why do you aid the committee?!"
'Prisoner? Committee? What nonsense is this?'
With no response, the inquisitors exchanged glances, then gathered light in their hands, intending to shoot down the dragon.
But then.
"!"
The inquisitors felt the air change color for an instant.
A heavy, spreading pressure emanated from Min-jun.
"You'd better stop right there."
The killing intent vibrated in the air, sharp enough to pierce the skin. Although his expression was hidden by shadows, an icy aura seeped from his entire being.
It was a fierce animosity and rage that they hadn't felt before, even while fighting him.
They knew it too. The prisoner had prioritized incapacitating them rather than aiming for their lives. But his sudden shift in demeanor was sharp enough to suggest that he might decapitate the clerics at any moment.
Unconsciously, they swallowed dryly. Min-jun pointed his dagger at them and spoke in a cold voice.
"I was trying to keep all three of you alive..."
The shadows quivered violently, reflecting his anger.
"But if you mess with my property, that's the end of it. You can still back off."
The inquisitors assumed he was referring to the High Patriarch's head. They thought it was brazen of him to claim it as his own right after taking it. But their misunderstanding didn't last long.
"If you attack that dragon, be prepared for the consequences."
"?!"
One of them stammered.
"Your property... are you referring to the dragon?"
Min-jun nodded, leaving the inquisitors shocked, and Ha-eun-seong even more so.
'Does he really think of me as a slave?!'
He didn't realize that Min-jun saw him as livestock, not a slave.
Though startled by Min-jun's words, Ha-eun-seong wasn't foolish enough to shout, "I'm not a slave!" Instead, he slowly lowered his altitude as instructed, while Min-jun kept an eye on the inquisitors to prevent them from harming the dragon.
Seeing this, the inquisitors felt their souls shrink.
It was Ha-eun-seong's reaction that startled them.
'Why isn't he denying it?! Why isn't he angry?!'
Dragons are known for their extreme species chauvinism, racial superiority, and twisted narcissism, starting from before they even hatch. The moment Min-jun claimed to have subjugated a dragon, the dragon should have exploded in a fit of rage, spewing flames. It didn't matter whether they were young or old, weak or strong. That's just how dragons are. They would rather express their shame through wrath than accept such humiliation.
But how was he behaving now?
'Why is he so obedient?!'
This was something that defied common sense.
As they continued to focus on the battle, the inquisitors began to notice other things they had previously overlooked.
'Why is the dragon so plump? Could he have been abused?!'
Had he truly subdued and dominated a dragon?
The inquisitors felt a faint tremor run through their bodies.
In the minds of the Earthling clerics, a censored and edited version of Asif's writings was recited, with only certain sections omitted to prevent conflicts with specific species. But as they watched this scene, another verse from the uncensored version rang in their minds.
"The Prophet answered, 'In the beginning, before history was written, they dwelled in Elahu-Praga, bearing within them an eternal wellspring of life. They are the great ones, who slept for eons but did not die, and who could create anything within their dreams. And...'"
Some lines were erased out of fear of the committee, while others were removed to prevent serious conflict with certain species. The line they now recalled belonged to the latter category.
"...and they are those who would enslave dragons, and drink from their blood and flesh."
Min-jun reached up, and above him, the dragon flew at low altitude, carrying the severed head. Like a trained bird flying back to its falconer's glove, or a hunting dog retrieving a Frisbee, it brought the head to him.
The inquisitors, unable the dragon gently handed the head over to Min-jun.
Flash!
"?!"
Something unexpected happened. The High Patriarch's head, which had been radiating a bright light, suddenly emitted an even stronger flash.
The inquisitors sensed the holy power emanating from it, growing wildly out of control. The power that had tormented the citizens of Bremenhaf and driven them mad since the night fell now surged as soon as it made contact with Min-jun.
"What the...?!"
Min-jun felt the energy surging like a wave, pouring into his being. Then, the prisoner passed out, eyes wide open.
Min-jun faced a nightmare.
The material for this dream was the most horrific memory the prisoner had ever experienced, a fragment of the past he never wanted to recall.
He wanted to avert his eyes and flee from this swamp of recollections, but it was useless. The more you try not to think of something, the more it sticks in your mind until, eventually, it's all you can think about.
The past he wanted to avoid crawled back to him with desperate persistence. The first to arrive was the most recent memory that had left a scar.
— You can think I'm crazy. I probably am. I don't think there's a way to endure this sanely. Not when I think of you.
He remembered poor Del, who spoke those words with a blank expression, staring straight ahead. His ex-wife had certainly gone mad. Was it a side effect of forcing Endelion's soul into a human body?
After their marriage, they lived for several decades without much trouble. While the initial fiery emotions didn't last, they developed a camaraderie that old couples often do. Given that they fought for the same cause, there was no better way to describe their relationship.
However, she lost her sanity, consumed by the belief that Minjun was condemned to live as a criminal in a prison without bars for the rest of his life. The anxiety that they could be forcibly separated and reassigned, never to see each other again, by a single notice from the Committee deeply shook her. Too deeply.
She clung to the superstition that a couple's bond would continue even after reincarnation because she desperately wanted to believe it.
Minjun murmured, "No, I don't believe in it. Not in such superstitions, and not in you. What do you think I felt when I realized that the person I loved was consumed by the delusion of trying to kill me?"
"I curse you! I gather all the remaining power within me to curse you! All the spirits I once commanded will gnaw at you! The only regret I have is that I won't be able to witness it firsthand!"
Sorry, but that curse only half succeeded. Minjun whispered to the necromancer whose name he couldn't remember. You ordered the spirits to possess my body, didn't you? The moment they tried to possess me, they screamed as if they were struck by something and fled. It was a psychic wave, but if I were to describe it as sound... yes. It was like the scream of an orc being burned alive. They must have felt terrible pain the moment they touched my soul. I still don't know why.
But after that, they relentlessly haunted me. I hardly slept. The whispers of curses and sinister words in my ears... I considered death many times. That's a memory I still don't want to recall.
But as they say, every cloud has a silver lining. In the end, I figured out how to control them. I suppose I should thank you for that. Do you understand now? This memory is of suffering I've already overcome, torment I've already conquered.
So this is not a nightmare.
Let's move on.
"The current balance of the account belonging to prisoner 'Asif-666' is 0 talents. Please be advised that once the balance turns negative, legal interest will be charged, and excessive arrears may result in immediate execution."
If being born and thrown into the world without prior consent can be described as violent, then the moment one first awakens as a prisoner can be described as brutal.
Minjun opened his eyes with a blank, empty mind. The first voice he heard was that. The declaration that he would be slaughtered if he didn't pay his survival tax on time.
The world he faced as a blank slate was brutally harsh.
Like a religious person cursing the karma of a previous life, Minjun cursed himself before his memories were erased. What heinous acts could I have committed? What terrible sins did I commit to be condemned to live in such a hellish prison?
He expected that his future life would be a living hell.
That was the first scene Minjun remembered. The first emotion he felt and the first thought he had after gaining consciousness as a prisoner.
Wait.
Was this really the first?
Can it be certain that this is the oldest of the horrific memories?
Was there really nothing before this?
Minjun pondered. Let's go a little further back.
"Thank you for accepting our offer."
The being in front of him couldn't hide its joy. It resembled a snake covered in brown fur. From its head, coiled like a snail's shell, an excited voice flowed.
"Other races think we left this dimension for a time. They call us an 'ancient race,' meaning we existed in the distant past and then suddenly disappeared. But that's not true. We never went anywhere. We were asleep. For quite a long time."
He asked, "Asleep? Why?"
"We were waiting for you to wake up."
Us?
"In what people now call ancient times, we desperately searched for you. But we never found you. We were sure you were out there, sleeping somewhere, but we couldn't find you. So we changed our approach. Instead of seeking out your sleeping forms, we decided to wait for you to awaken and move. But we had no idea how long it would take."
Couldn't you have just waited for us to awaken, passing down the responsibility through generations?
"We didn't want to do that. We didn't want to pass on the opportunity to welcome you to our descendants. We wanted to greet you ourselves. You can call us selfish if you like. Ah, but there was a practical reason too. We feared that if too much time passed, our purpose would become diluted or turned into religious messages, myths, and symbols. So we decided to sleep until you woke up."
But when your 'ancient race' awoke, most of us were still asleep. Still.
"Yes, it was unexpected. We didn't anticipate that it would be such a long sleep. At first, we despaired... but fortunately, we were able to meet you like this! Thank you for your cooperation."
Not at all.
"Upon returning, I found the entire dimensional realm in disarray. There isn't a world untouched by that massive reptilian dominance. Only a few distant peripheral dimensions have managed to escape their grasp. You understand, don't you? People are suffering. Let's give them the gift of freedom. Let's help all species blossom by freeing them from the oppression and tyranny of monsters who know nothing but domination and exploitation. Let's end the long winter and usher in a spring of freedom and peace. So tell us, where are you lying dormant? We will awaken everyone."
No.
Don't say it!
Don't tell them!
Minjun desperately resisted. But in the nightmare, he uttered the words that should not have been spoken.
"Where we laid down our bodies is…"
Minjun woke up.
He anchored his consciousness back in reality.
His senses gradually returned. First, sounds rushed in like a storm, followed by his sense of smell. The acrid scent of a burning city. The smell of human blood. The sweet scent peculiar to the Repatam species. The comforting scent of a dragon.
Then, his sight reconnected with his consciousness. It wasn't that his vision had been blocked during that time. He had been seeing, but the scenery, disconnected from reality, now flooded into his mind with the color of meaning.
He saw the faces of the horrified inquisitors. Their gaze was fixed on Minjun and the head he was holding.
"The divine power… has stopped?"
That was correct. Minjun turned his eyes to the severed head. The soul inside had absorbed countless talents in the quest for immortality.
The Patriarch had now regained consciousness. The city's madness would gradually subside.
Minjun focused on the light emanating from the soul, from the head. When Ha Eunseong appeared with the talent inside him, Minjun hadn't noticed. That's because the light doesn't seep out of the soul unless the talent is being used, as if it's deliberately concealed.
But now, a beautiful light that anyone could see was flowing from the head. It would continue this way as long as he remained in this state after his resurrection. As long as the soul is bound to a body that cannot be revived, the talent will continue to be consumed to maintain life.
The longer the Patriarch lived, the more the talent evaporated.
It was a waste.
And it made him angry.
Minjun spoke.
"That's not yours."
After absorbing the ceremonial dagger into the shadows, he covered the head with his empty right hand. The revived Patriarch could only roll his eyes in fear.
"Please, please…!"
Minjun murmured softly.
"It's mine. Give it back."
He pronounced the words again, as if to reaffirm them.
"Yes, it's mine. It's 'ours.'"
"No! Please… don't… in the memory of the god…!"
At that moment, light erupted once more.
After the blinding flash faded, everyone froze again. The inquisitors could barely breathe. Ha Eunseong stared at Minjun in a daze.
The Patriarch's pupils, which had been alive just moments ago, were now lifeless. The head had returned to being an ordinary corpse.
And the glorious light that had been emanating from within…
"My God…"
The religious figures trembled in shock.
In Minjun's right palm, flickering and glowing, was unmistakably godblood. A sacred relic that would evaporate the moment it touched the mortal world. That's why it had to be stored in a special seal, sacred blood.
Yet this godblood was glowing stably, without any protective measures. Held in the man's hand.
Now, the inquisitors had lost their will to resist. No, they had no reason to resist.
The emotions and attitudes they should direct toward this man were now the exact opposite.
A man who carried within his chest the unending fountain of life.
A man who ruled dragons and quenched his thirst with their blood and flesh.
A man whose spilling blood contained the power to make everything possible.
Though the god the clergy worshipped slumbered in Ela-Hoo-Praga instead of the false world, here was a man who bore all the symbols of that god. It wasn't hard to imagine the religious interpretation of such a phenomenon.
Slowly, the inquisitors knelt in a state of ecstasy.
And they bowed their heads before Minjun, worshipping the miracle that had appeared in this world.
"Oh, god. Ancient One. This humble servant praises the evidence of you descending upon this place."