Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint - Chapter 562



The Story of the Past, Humans and Sin – 2

So far, he had devoured more than ten thousand humans with this grip. He was a beast that consumed humans, a predator of humans, and their natural enemy. There was no need to fear the king of humans…

That thought had long since vanished.

The king of humans was young and innocent. Yet, despite his appearance, he was fierce and powerful, and above all, clever. When Ankura charged with her claws bared, the action taken by the king of humans was neither a charge nor a retreat.

He simply drew the hand axe from his waist and threw it.

The greatest characteristic of humans is their use of tools, which they wield not to walk on their forelegs but to grasp something. Unlike other beasts that spring off their limbs, humans throw something else entirely.

While using tools is not exclusive to humans, the act of throwing is not a privilege of humanity either. It is a powerful force found rarely among all beasts.

And the king of humans, while perhaps not the strongest human, embodied a certain “concept” that encompassed even that. In terms of the act of “throwing,” it was incomparable to anything else.

The ragged soldiers lost their limbs and were swept away. Even the powerful warriors, who knew no death, lost their will in the face of an unimaginable explosion of strength. No, even if their will remained, their bodies shattered before they could unleash it.

Ankura was no exception.

Just as she barely dodged the axe that had felled the jungle, the other arm of the king of humans flickered hazily. It was a blow that seemed to pin the world down on a chopping board. At the same moment, a fierce storm swept through Ankura’s right arm.

“Graah, graaah!”

The horizontally spinning axe passed through Ankura, grinding her shoulder down to her elbow. Blood evaporated at the point of contact, creating a red ripple. It was a destructive force closer to crushing than cutting, a power that defied the notion of mere throwing.

Ankura was flung away like the trash he often discarded, rolling across the ground. An unbearable fear flickered across his face.

“Your arm grows back quickly, doesn’t it?”

In contrast, the girl before him—the small absolute being wearing the crown of the king of humans—looked at Ankura’s neck with a face full of curiosity.

Having devoured tens of thousands of humans, Ankura’s body could quickly recover, and he could enlarge parts of his body. His transcendent vitality played a significant role in ruling the jungle with fear. Though now a useless ability, it had bought Ankura precious time.

Time to plead with the king of humans.

“O king of humans!!!”

“Huh? Me? Why?”

“Why, why did you attack me?!!”

The girl, taken aback by the unexpected question, could only widen her eyes in confusion. The way her round eyes rolled about resembled a beast caught in the act of wrongdoing, glancing around nervously.

“I was living peacefully in this jungle! Raising livestock, hunting, living a life as fierce and faithful as any other human!! Until you came!”

His words were not wrong. Regardless of what the deceased might think, he had spent idyllic days of slaughter.

Hunting, capturing, and killing humans to eat. It could be deemed cruel, but in a jungle where beasts were hard to catch and scarce to eat, humans were of high quality livestock. It was merely that Ankra had consumed an unusually large amount; cannibalism was a frequent occurrence in this jungle.

“But you, who have never set foot in this jungle until now! You come barging in to eat some people and try to kill me!!”

Ankra shouted, claiming he was merely resisting because the human king had tried to kill him first, that he was fighting against the invader.

Yet the girl’s demeanor was so different from Ankra’s. The flustered girl scratched her head with the back of her axe and said,

“Why? You were the one who challenged me first, right?”

“Ch…challenge?”

“Yeah. You bared your teeth at me and tried to fight, right? So I just fought back?”

“What?”

Ankra was left speechless, overwhelmed by the stark difference in their attitudes.

Ankra was the king of the jungle, fighting against the human king who could not accept his ways, risking everything. But listening to the human king, it seemed the reason for the fight was simply that he had thrown down the gauntlet, nothing more, nothing less.

“Accepting a challenge is the role of a leader! I fulfilled your wish!”

This was entirely different from what the prophet had said. Ankra asked with a trembling voice,

“So you’re saying I didn’t come here to take revenge for eating a thousand people?”

“Huh? A thousand? Why? I just killed a thousand myself!”

It was true. Ankra had taken not only the ragged soldiers but all the ordinary warriors of his tribe. And the human king had slaughtered Ankra’s soldiers in an instant. Without hesitation. Almost as if he were pleased.

Ankra fell into confusion. The human king was far more powerful than he had anticipated, yet also more barbaric. A kindred spirit. Ankra felt fear because he realized the difference in strength between them as equals.

“Were you afraid of dying? Then why did you challenge me? You were going to lose.”

A simple fact, an arrogant declaration. His pride was hurt, but this was not the time to care about that. Seeing a glimmer of hope, Ankra hastily defended himself.

“It’s because of the prophet! He predicted you would attack me!”

“Whether you were incited or deceived, you still threw down the challenge, right? You were filled with thoughts of defeating me. So it was a challenge.”

“It wasn’t my true desire! If you and the prophet hadn’t come, I would have just wanted to live peacefully like I am now!”

Though the slaves of the Anka tribe would not be included in that peace, Ankra’s words were undoubtedly the truth. The girl, calming the thrill of the hunt, murmured in a slightly dazed voice.

“Really?”

The hostility that had filled the jungle began to dissipate. The fear that had bristled through her body like fur lifted like a fog. As Ankra, freed from death, gasped for breath, the human king, having withdrawn his murderous intent, turned away with a refreshing clarity.

“Yeah. You’re scared now. You won’t challenge me anymore. It’s boring, but… if you’re willing to submit.”

He turned his back slightly, as if a bit disappointed, but… that didn’t spark any desire to ambush. He felt the difference in their ranks.

Above all, the brutality displayed by the human king. It was something that easily surpassed Ankra, who devoured humans. The sight of him, unyielding despite not being a regenerating body, broke Ankra’s spirit.

—

“Still, I survived…! The strength I’ve lost can be regained! As long as I’m alive, I can plan for the future!”

At that moment, filled with relief that Ankra had survived.

Without any warning, someone appeared beside the girl.

“Your Majesty….”

The Prophet. Reading the heavenly secrets, tracing the ley lines, observing the movements of celestial bodies, predicting the flow of clouds and winds. The goddess of the human king.

She had come to Ankra to inform her that the human king would soon arrive. Perhaps to provoke a confrontation between the human king and Ankra…

Ankra felt a surge of anger, but the human king was still in the court. As he momentarily suppressed his emotions and bowed, the human king responded.

“Huh? Why?”

“We must kill him.”

A chilling sensation burrowed deep within Ankra’s body.

Fear? It was something different. It wasn’t the wailing of a defeated one, who could only mock with their words, nor was it the intense murderous intent being directed at her.

It was as if she were reading a predetermined fate. The very declaration felt as if it would become reality… a suffocating sense that blocked all paths forward except for death. It gripped Ankra’s throat tightly and wouldn’t let go.

The girl tilted her head, listening to the Prophet’s words.

“Kill? Me? Him? Why?”

“Because that is the only way to stand tall, Your Majesty. He, who feeds on humans, is a beast of sin that fills this great forest with screams and suffering. He quenches his thirst with human blood and fills his belly with flesh, establishing and spreading norms through his wickedness. His existence is a blight. Just by living and breathing, he is a sin. For humans to live as humans, we must erase beasts like him from existence.”

A denial that transcended contempt and hatred. From the past to the present, in every direction moving toward the future, there was an intent to eliminate him.

Ankra broke into a cold sweat.

“But he’s human too?”

“That is precisely why he must be excised. If he were not human, he could simply be made an enemy. As an enemy, he would be a formidable challenge to overcome, a trial to face. But he is human… though I do not wish to acknowledge it, he is our kin. Just that alone makes his sins ours, burdening and tainting us.”

The girl, seemingly uninterested, picked at her ear and replied.

“Sins? What’s that? Eating? I haven’t seen it.”

“Your Majesty. Our beautiful and fierce sovereign. Humans can see what is invisible. We look up to learn. We gaze at higher places, longing for them, envying them, wishing to become like them. That is why we need shining stars. We desire a North Star to guide us. We must erase the dark and base things, establishing righteousness and justice to lead everyone.”

“Is that so? Then you kill him. You can do that, right?”

The human king spoke nonchalantly and turned away. Without a trace of regret, the girl walked off, yawning widely, showing no interest in Ankra’s life or death.

The Prophet looked at her retreating figure with a hint of sorrow and melancholy.

“I cannot do it. Your Majesty, you are the king of all humans. You must act and show it yourself. That is the only way for humans to change… My foolish and ignorant actions cannot become the shining star. They cannot pave the way for everyone….”

I don’t understand what that means. But I can tell that these two are discussing my life and death. Ankra felt a mix of confusion and anger at the situation where her fate was being decided by the conversation of two people who had nothing to do with her.

Against such a Prophet, the girl replied without a second thought.

“Don’t worry about it! Just do what you want!”

With a fist raised in encouragement, the girl shouted cheerfully. Yet, it seemed to the Prophet that it was a desperate conclusion.

—

“Ah…”

Targeting the deeply sighing prophet, Ankra slowly rose. His body, stained with fatigue, had already regenerated, having devoured the strength of thousands.

“You deceived me. The King of Humans had no interest in me at all!”

“He respects humanity. In other words, it could be called neglect… but that is the utmost respect such an absolute being can show to the weak. Should I be glad? Or should I be sad?”

“But I survived! You have failed. The power I lost today can be devoured again!”

Ankra elongated his nails. The claws, sharp and solid as a beast’s, glinted with a chilling light. He charged at the defenseless prophet.

“I’ll devour you first!”

The prophet was acquainted with the King of Humans. However, the King would not prevent this death for that reason. With that conviction, Ankra targeted the prey before him to quell his hunger.

Then it happened. A sharp intent to kill pierced through him. Sensing the ominous feeling, Ankra twisted his waist with astonishing agility, blocking the blade that surged toward his nape.

The clash of metal and claws sparked. Ankra was taken aback by the heavy sensation pressing down on him. The ambushing warrior clicked her tongue and kicked him away. With a loud thud, Ankra’s body was pushed back.

“How dare you lay a hand on our goddess?”

She was a warrior with a sleek body and sharp features, like a leopard. Her hair was tightly tied back to avoid obstruction, and she carried a quiver on her back. Knives and daggers were strapped to her waist and thighs, ready to be drawn at any moment.

A well-trained body. She was undoubtedly a formidable warrior. However, the shock Ankra felt in his hand was clearly unusual. The power emanating from that body was not weight.

Let alone the blade that could cut through wood, Ankra was astonished by the sharpness of the blade.

The warrior aimed two daggers at Ankra and spoke.

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“Goddess. Should I cut her to death?”

“Agartha. Be careful. ‘That one’ won’t die just from being cut. To kill ‘that one’ who has devoured thousands of life forces, we need to stop its breath two hundred and ninety times.”

“Two hundred and ninety?”

“Originally, it would have taken over a thousand deaths. If the King hadn’t intervened, we would have exhausted ourselves and fallen first.”

The prophet spoke calmly about the future, but two hundred and ninety was still a considerable number. Agartha, who was roughly calculating, shook her head and raised her daggers again.

“Anyway, we just need to keep cutting, right?”

“Yes, Agartha. Let it die.”

“By your name. The goddess’s future into reality.”

And Agartha charged in, wildly twirling her two daggers.

Sparkling motes of light fell from the sky. Agartha’s daggers were swift, dazzling, and sharp. Moreover, the intangible energy enveloping the blades menacingly targeted Ankra’s life.

Thwack. Blood splattered on Ankra’s neck and chest as he failed to evade the blade. Agartha’s dagger succeeded in claiming Ankra’s life.

Just once, though.

“You little…!”

Ankra changed his strategy. Until now, he had instinctively avoided, but there was no need for that anymore. Having confirmed that he wouldn’t die even if struck by the light-clad blade, it was now time to offer flesh and take bone.

With the blade embedded in his body, Ankra thrust out his arms. In the brief moment of hesitation after the blade pierced him, Ankra seized Agartha’s wrist. His strength easily overpowered her. Ignoring her struggles to break free, Ankra twisted her wrist with more force. Agartha’s expression contorted.

At that moment, a strike like light fell upon Ankra’s arm. The swift blade, wrapped in light, sliced through Ankra’s arm and bone, causing her strength to drain away, and her body lost balance, leaning forward.

Agartha’s face lit up with excitement.

“Grandiomor!”

“I told you not to let your guard down, didn’t I? Even with your powers, you’re up against the king of this jungle, who has hunted elephants. You should have been cautious until we arrived.”

He was a handsome man with a gentle demeanor. His appearance seemed to embrace the world, soft yet revealing a solid core; he was undoubtedly beautiful inside and out. Even Agartha, accustomed to men, felt a blush rise to her cheeks for a moment.

The hero Grandiomor. A handsome man with righteous conduct and an even more righteous face. His swordsmanship was exceptional, and he had been chosen as the king’s warrior, arriving now in the wake of the prophet.

Ankra’s hand, having lost its master, still writhed, pressing down on her arm. Grandiomor exerted all his strength to pry each finger away. Ankra’s hand flailed on its own before disappearing into the underbrush.

“Graaah! These prey!”

Yet Ankra did not care. As he summoned his strength, flesh surged forth from the severed stump. The newly formed arm was larger and thicker than the previous one, as if several other arms had been woven together at once.

“I used ten at once! Let’s see you take this!”

The strength he had used to wrestle with elephants, consuming the lives he had devoured to gain formidable power. His grotesquely thick arm targeted both Grandiomor and Agartha simultaneously.

Then, suddenly, a massive shadow charged forward and collided with him. A blade, larger and longer than a person, enveloped Ankra. The clash of power shook the air.

“Ugh!”

A hulking man tightened his waist and swung the blade. For a moment, Ankra struggled, but he could not withstand the man’s strength and was sent flying. He crashed through a couple of trees before finally coming to a stop.

Agartha spoke irritably.

“Hangpa! You’re late!”

“You’re the ones who are fast.”

The man muttered briefly, resting the blade on his shoulder. The strongest human on the ground, Hangpa. Excluding the king of humans, no one could match his raw strength. He showed no signs of fatigue even after sending the king of the jungle flying.

It wasn’t just that he was strong. Even if he was born strong, he could not surpass Ankra, who had devoured thousands of humans.

“Qi Gong. A pinnacle that I have discovered throughout the future, one that humans can attain without the interference of the ‘Demon God.’ The extreme that can be honed as a human.”

The prophet stood before them all, murmuring sadly.

“Even that cannot reach the peak of current sins. Our strength, yes, it is weak. From the shadow of the sins that have overturned the world. From the loopholes left by humans and the hell of the apostles. We lose when we fight justly.”

Hangpa, who had been quietly listening to the prophet, suddenly flared up.

“Hey. Princess. Are you saying I’m weaker than that?”

“Don’t quibble, Hangpa! That’s a prophecy. As the goddess said, if we had fought as we are, we would have lost. Whether from exhaustion or carelessness!”

“That would be you, not me.”

“What?! Are you looking down on me just because I was momentarily careless?”

“Both of you stop fighting. You know that the best outcome is for the Lord to personally deal with that demon. The saintess was only pursuing a good outcome.”

While the three warriors were arguing, Ankra writhed, dripping blood. Now, having exhausted her life force fighting the king of humans, she could not confront them.

She had to escape. The thought of fleeing not from the king but from the king’s warrior would surely lead to ridicule if it spread through the jungle… but surviving came first.

Fortunately, their feet wouldn’t be that fast. Ankra straightened his knees and pounded the ground with all four limbs. He dashed toward a place where he sensed no presence.

Watching Ankra flee like a bug, the three warriors spoke calmly.

“He’s running away?”

“Seems like he values his life. But what’s the point?”

“This too must have been part of the princess’s future.”

Then Ankra suddenly collided with someone who appeared out of nowhere. The scruffy-looking man widened his eyes in surprise upon facing Ankra. It was so unexpected that neither had time to dodge. The two, having collided head-on, bounced off in opposite directions.

“Ugh! That hurts!”

“Ugh!”

Could it be that they had set a trap? Regaining his senses, Ankra instinctively attacked the pursuer. If he retreated, he would simply run away, and if he fought back, he would take them down. With no option to flee backward, it was a choice he had to make.

However, the man before him chose neither.

“Huh? aaah!”

Seeing Ankra, he got scared and rolled on the ground. Ankra, who hadn’t expected his opponent to throw himself, got caught up in it and fell over. Now rolling awkwardly on the floor, Ankra grabbed onto a vine to pull himself up.

At that moment, something taut snapped, and a sharp iron stake flew in from somewhere, piercing into Ankra’s body.

Terrible pain followed. Ankra struggled to remove the steel stake that pierced through him, but the hooked stake only tore into his flesh further. Even with Ankra’s strength, it neither broke nor was crushed.

How could iron be this sharp and hard? In front of his astonished eyes, a short-haired woman wearing a hood emerged from the bushes.

“I told you to lure him, not to roll on the ground! You almost triggered all the traps!”

“Ahaha… In the end, it turned out to be a lure. That’s a success, right, Elric?”

“What good is a good result if the process is a complete mess? We can’t know if we’ll succeed the same way again.”

The man scratched his head and awkwardly laughed, looking quite untrustworthy. In contrast, the woman named Elric seemed to move like a finely-tuned machine. Adorned with various equipment, she used pulleys and mechanisms to pull the rope. Ankra felt as if his body was being torn apart as he was dragged away.

The man shouted toward the prophet.

“I got him! El, come here!”

And before the incapacitated Ankra, the prophet and the king’s warriors approached. Sensing death, Ankra gasped and spoke. Why were they trying to kill him? Why did they hate him when they had never even met?

To him, the prophet replied.

“He devours a thousand each year. Not out of hunger, nor because it’s a waste to discard them. Simply because it forces the surrounding tribes to expend their strength to produce children to be sacrificed. It was a heinous act done only once, after winning a war that determined the fate of the tribe, long ago. Yet, they came to regard it as tradition and repeated this horrific act every year.”

Ankra shouted in anger at the prophet. Had he set a trap for him? Had he pushed him to challenge the human king?

“The result of being unable to break the cycle of sin is that, in the end, the sin has become the most powerful force ruling over us. If you hadn’t come, it would have grown so powerful that it could not be severed… and spread even more evil.”

Then he tried to persuade them. The human king had forgiven him and spared his life, so they should do the same.

“Even going so far as to cut open the belly of an old woman who can no longer bear children, placing a dead child inside to pretend she is pregnant… because a pregnant woman counts as two. These are the evils used to deceive the numbers of humans, exploiting them. Only through this do they come into being and spread.”

In the end, he begged for forgiveness. He pleaded to be spared, promising he would never do it again, just as he had with the human king.

“It cannot be allowed. You cannot turn away with the excuse of ignorance. Ignorance and barbarism cannot justify this horrific sin. This is a sin and a taboo in itself. It must never be done again… no, it must be erased entirely. It must be buried in the soil and foliage so that no one can remember it.”

—

But they were not the kings of men.

The prophet, spewing forth terrible sorrow, regarded Ankra with emotions that transcended contempt.

“There is no ‘this’ in the future I will draw.”

The prophet raised two fingers before his eyes, obscuring Ankra from view. Crackle, crackle. Everything surrounding him began to twist and vanish.

Ankra was denied from the very roots of existence. All causality linked to him was severed. Traces would remain, but they would not endure as truth. He would fade into forgotten memories.

The first saint would bless everything.

Buried within the sorrow, Ankra felt an overwhelming despair.

There were too many gods in the world.

Not false ones like him, but true gods.