Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint - Chapter 561



Tales of the Past, Humans and Sin – 1

In the distant past. On a day before the founding year, when even the facts and history had eroded and vanished.

The world was the land of humans.

In a world where all manner of beasts rampaged, tearing each other apart with teeth and claws, humans, with their intellect and numbers, managed to sweep across the world. The weak perished miserably, but the strong survived, growing ever more powerful by consuming the remains of the dead.

A time when they practiced sorcery, contracted with spirits, and tamed beasts, gradually growing stronger.

‘He’ was a god.

In the dense jungle. A venomous snake bit and killed a human, insects fed on all manner of beasts, and diseases thrived in the damp and filthy places. A land where all life writhed, intertwined in a dance of life and death.

Even in that place, where life abounded and death was common, humans overcame and conquered.

Among them was the most powerful, the chieftain of the Angka tribe, master of the Bone Altar. The great chieftain who colonized the ninety-two tribes of the jungle.

The only human allowed to consume a thousand lives a year, the Thousand-Man Feast, Angra.

Today, he was enjoying a feast in his palace.

“Ah, ah, ahhh.”

What feelings does a buffalo experience when being torn apart by a lion? If you’re curious, you could ask the person currently having their thigh devoured by Angra for a more definitive answer.

If they could respond, that is.

Angra’s feast was to consume living flesh as it was. Before life was extinguished, while the heart still beat. He relished the moment he took a bite, feeling the hot blood surge forth, filling his mouth.

—

Thus, Ankra’s meal occurred simultaneously with the death of a life.

“Cough, cough. Gurgle.”

The life of the human being, torn apart while still alive, came to an end. Whether it was due to shock, blood loss, or simply because it had been too thoroughly devoured, the reason was unknown. But as the vividly pulsing blood ceased, Ankra, in a fit of irritation, threw away the ‘meat.’

The lifeless body, now devoid of strength, flew out the window, splattering blood. Its limbs, torn and mangled, broke apart and scattered in all directions. A lump of human flesh, like garbage, tumbled down beneath the bone altar, still clinging to remnants of meat.

The hungry gazes of the people turned toward the ‘meat.’ Even the scraps left by Ankra were precious flesh to someone. Humans, missing an arm or a leg after being devoured by Ankra, desperately crawled up the bony slope. To fill their bellies with flesh.

The question of whether that had once been a person held no meaning. If they could not digest it, they too would meet the same fate. The parasites, fearing who might take it from them, gnawed at the still-dripping corpse atop the pile of bones.

The countless bones stacked high formed a bone altar, a remnant of Ankra’s feast, a tower of sin built upon his unique culinary delights.

Some would feel terror at the sight, while others would feel disgust.

But to Ankra, human flesh was a staple, and bones were merely a nuisance. He commanded the ragged soldier standing by.

“Bring me a fresh one.”

In this wild land, one could easily lose an arm or a leg to injury, disease, or infection. Yet Ankra’s loyal followers were different.

Even if an arm was severed, a leg broken, or their bodies gnawed upon, as long as they drew breath, Ankra would provide them with the flesh and bones of ‘food.’

Thus, the Anka tribe was invincible and unyielding. They ruled as the dominators of this land, turning countless tribes into enemies and exploiting them. The ragged soldiers of the Anka tribe were brave warriors who feared nothing, even with their own arms and legs broken. The ragged soldier presented us, a cage full of humans, before their god.

Ankra pulled out a fresh, living human from the cage. The human screamed in terror, thrashing about, but as Ankra pulled out the tongue and crushed the bones, silence fell. Ankra chewed on an arm, lost in thought once more.

Though he had been an object of fear, Ankra had recently found himself troubled by one concern.

“The king of humans. The king of humans…”

It was all due to a prophet who had brought news of the human king.

“Ankra. God of the jungle. The most special human in this world. I have seen your future.”

One day, the prophet appeared suddenly, whispering as if he had read Ankra’s heart perfectly.

“The king of humans is the king of all. The grievances of those you have killed and eaten have reached the heavens and seeped into the earth, and now the king of humans will come to you with ears attuned.”

He felt no guilt about killing humans. Yet, the prophet’s words weighed on his mind.

As he said, he devoured a thousand each year. This was to establish Ankra’s authority and instill fear in the world, a policy to maintain the power gap by diminishing the strength of neighboring tribes, but it was not without its struggles. Humans often banded together to flee and resist.

“No matter how special you are, you are still human. To the king of humans, the thousand who have perished and you are no different.”

Some prey firmly believed that the king of humans would punish him, cursing him until the moment they were consumed. They claimed that the king would come, and our tribe would become the king’s warriors, beheading him. Even if they killed us all, that will would remain, binding his heart as they cried out in blood.

Though there was no need to consider the plight of the prey, the hatred reflected in their eyes, even as they were being torn apart, was so unpleasant it made his appetite wane.

“That is because the king of humans still reigns. If you truly wish to become special, you must challenge the king of humans.”

And the ‘prophet’ came, piercing through his heart and predicting the future.

“This time, when the king of humans crosses the plains. That will be your only opportunity.”

Reading the secrets of the heavens, singing the movements of the stars, tracing the flow of rain and clouds, the prophet accurately predicted the torrential rains of nine nights that would come to this jungle.

Before tens of thousands, she proved herself to be a prophet and then departed after accurately ‘foretelling’ the arrival of the king of humans.

—

Recalling the figure of her departing back, which seemed to leave without even a bird to devour, Ankra sucked on his marrow and spoke.

“Yes. That’s right. What is it but the king of beasts? I have devoured all who called themselves kings. Even if it is the king of beasts.”

Ankra tightened his grip. The muscles and bones of his right arm shattered under pure force. As he sucked on the human essence seeping through his fingers, Ankra stood up.

“Now, it’s time to hunt. Rise, my soldiers.”

Behind him, nearly a thousand ragged soldiers rose. The undying forces, the most powerful immortals of the jungle, took up their weapons at Ankra’s command.

To consume the king of humans.

…It was the most foolish decision of their lives.

Huff, huff, huff.

Ankra ran through the vast jungle in a frenzy. Since he had reigned as the ruler of the jungle, his breath had never once faltered, but now it surged up to his throat, choking him.

“This me! This me! To be ‘hunted’!”

The thousand ragged soldiers who had followed him had literally become rags. They hung everywhere, reduced to unrevivable chunks of flesh. Without time to feel anger, Ankra had to flee desperately.

There was no need to preserve face or pride. The opponent was the king of humans. The representative of all humanity.

Even if Ankra was a cruel ruler, he too was human. That cruelty was a part of her. The wicked power gained from consuming thousands was but one of the millions of powers wielded by the king of humans.

“Prophet…! You deceived me! It was impossible to win from the start!”

Shaking with rage, Ankra dashed across the jungle. With each leap, his body surged forward like a leopard.

As the king of this jungle, having devoured thousands, Ankra could crush trees with his bare hands and leap across valleys in a single bound. The vast jungle, filled with millions of trees, felt small to him.

Yet, Ankra was still human.

His strength was human strength.

“First, if I can just hide my body in the shade of the forest…!”

At that moment, his survival instinct screamed violently. Ankra twisted his body desperately. An old axe whizzed past his eyes. Blood glimmered on the dull blade. For a moment, the axe passed him at an unimaginable speed.

The trees caught in the axe’s trajectory splintered in unison, and the underbrush was torn apart. Primitive trees that had survived for over a hundred years were reduced to firewood, leaving only stumps behind. The fiercely spinning hand axe crushed everything in its path and fell.

And then, an explosion occurred.

Broken branches were swept up in the storm, swirling violently, and leaves and fruits shot out in all directions. The axe blade embedded in the ground smashed roots and branches, leaving a massive scar on the earth.

The axe, carried by the storm, flew for a while before converging at a point. Then, an earthquake struck. An immense shockwave engulfed the forest, sending Ankra’s body flying.

“Ugh!”

Even though he hadn’t been directly hit, the force was overwhelming. Gasping, Ankra quickly searched for a place to hide. But around him, there was not a single shadow; everything was laid bare.

In the midst of this strange discomfort, he suddenly looked up at the sky.

The sun was shining down on him.

In the jungle densely covered with trees, sunlight does not reach directly. The light, broken and filtered by the trees that grew in competition with one another and the lushly spread leaves, only softly illuminated the forest. Thus, the forest was bright yet dark.

It should be so.

The blow dealt by the king of humans turned the jungle into a savanna. It toppled every tree that had reigned as the guardian of the land and restored light to this place.

He had merely thrown a hand axe.

Ankura, standing in a daze, trembled at the fear surging from her toes. She had been discovered, laid bare before “that.”

It was a girl wearing the pelt of a wolf on her head. Her large, round eyes were filled with curiosity for her prey, and her innocent smile held a blend of cruelty and purity. Her tiny body radiated a wildness that seemed capable of shattering the world itself.

A woodcutter, a hunter, a shepherd, and a warrior.

In all these roles, she was the most skilled woodcutter, a tenacious hunter, a fierce destroyer, and the mightiest warrior.

The many kings of humans had come to capture and kill Ankura.

“I found you!”

The king of humans, who discovered Ankura in a sunlit clearing of the forest, shouted with a wild and pure laugh.