< 91. Trial of the Dead God (2) >
*
His life was always the same. Pitch-black darkness, fear-driven escapes, struggles for survival, and a heart filled with malice.
For a brief moment, there was a breeze that allowed him to catch his breath, and that breeze was named Aria. A woman who swallowed her sorrows, smiled softly, and quietly followed behind him.
Fernandez took another step as he watched her. The scene changed.
Aria was often sick. Her delicate body couldn’t endure the rough wandering, pursuit, and escapes.
She should have always kept joy close and lived a simple but fulfilling life. She was truly a woman worthy of such a life.
She was a woman who didn’t belong in an era where demons howled in every shadow. Fernandez clenched his teeth until they nearly shattered.
-Thud.
Now, even taking a single step required all his strength. It wasn’t that his senses were distorted. Even using all the powerful muscles of Diemonica’s tendons, lifting his knees was no easy task.
In fact, with each step, a heavy impact echoed through the corridor. Like the sound of a drum.
-Thud.
-Thud. Thump.
The violent sound of his heart pumping blood filled his ears. Blood surged beyond the limits of his flesh, causing red congestion to rise on his skin.
-Thump!
Heartbeats, footsteps, and the sound of explosions throughout his body. They mixed together, resonating like the sound of drums. Fast, sticky, and intense rhythm.
-Thump. Thump.
In front of Fernandez, the deep and endless corridor began to ripple with the images, in sync with his steps, like the sound of drums.
-Thump!
There was a hero known as the Sky Knight, Farion Deadrican. To Faijashi, who was approaching twilight, he was not particularly threatening.
At that time, Faijashi was at the peak of his power.
His body, twisted by long exposure to magical corruption, was slowly dying, but in contrast, his magic, power, and minions had grown to a level that could threaten a nation.
That was when an assassin climbed his tower. When he watched the assassin’s retreating figure after stabbing a dagger into the heart of the dying Aria.
“Aria!!!”
It was a voice so loud that it was hard to believe it came from his throat. Faijashi never raised his voice or screamed. He always whispered quietly, like a snake slithering through a swamp.
But at that moment, Faijashi’s diseased lungs let out a scream as if they were tearing apart. The bed was soaked in blood, and his demons were greedily swallowing the blood flowing on the floor.
The curtains fluttered in the night breeze. The night sky with dark green clouds was visible through them. Below it, Aria lay pale and gasping.
“Aria, damn it. Get out, you damn bastards! Get out!”
“…Teacher.”
Aria spat out blood mixed with flesh as she gasped. Tears welled up in her eyes and streamed down.
“Don’t speak. It missed your heart. You’ll be fine. Don’t speak. You’ll be fine. My Aria. Aria.”
“Teacher.”
Aria grabbed Faijashi’s trembling wrist. At her frail, stubborn resistance, Faijashi stiffened like a stone.
“I will, I will bring you back. Even if you become a vampire, even if you become a lich. Even if only your soul remains wandering. I won’t let you go like this.”
At those words, Aria quietly shook her head.
“Teacher, have I become your regret…?”
“…Aria.”
“Lonely one. Who will cry for you now…?”
Her cold hand touched Faijashi’s cheek. Gurgling, blood spilled from Aria’s mouth. And from Faijashi’s heart. Deeply, heavily.
“Don’t speak anymore, Aria. Live, for my sake.”
“I have no regrets. From the moment I first met you, until now.”
The confession of regret that night was a lie. Aria smiled sadly. It was the last. Faijashi would never hear her breath again.
A familiar scent rose in the blood. The fragrance of freesia flowers. Faijashi quietly held Aria’s hand. The trembling gradually subsided.
No tears flowed from his dry eyes, ruined by long experiments and the corruption of hellish magic. Faijashi looked down at Aria, who lay peacefully asleep.
She was smiling. Brightly, like the day they first met. If he resurrected her as a corpse, if she became a wraith bound to him. Would she still smile at me?
Faijashi’s hand twisted with magic, then it soon faded. He weakly lowered his hand.
“I will respect your death, Aria.”
-Ugh…
Instead, Faijashi stepped out of the cradle and took the small, pale, trembling hand. It was warm and soft. A hand completely different from his rough, twisted, bony fingers.
His long life was akin to the time his soul had been tortured. Now, it was just another line written in that history.
Faijashi looked down at the deep blue eyes staring back at him, so much like his own. Clear, pure, and wet with tears.
“Ha…”
His hands quickly intertwined, and soon a small flower appeared in his hand. A stem of freesia hung from his hand. He placed the flower on Aria’s cold chest.
There was no time to collapse in sorrow. He had never lived a life of comfort. He picked up his son’s body and turned to leave the room.
*
“Huff… Huff…”
Fernandez’s breath came in short gasps. He was now almost crawling on the ground. The weight pressing down on him grew increasingly intense.
-Crack.
The sound of his ankle breaking. Maybe his knee.
-Crash!
Fernandez quickly stabbed his sword into the ground to support himself.
His eyes reached the wall. He saw an old man in the mural holding a child. The baby stretched out its white arm, pointing to the end of the corridor.
– Sinner, walk towards the gallows.
“Ugh…!”
Blood flowed between his broken molars. The spit he spat out was mixed with blood and fragments of teeth. Fernandez took another step forward.
And then, the painting changed. The corridor twisted. Gravity distorted, and the corridor tangled into a spiral. Fernandez struggled to push himself forward, barely keeping his balance.
*
Looking back now, it seemed the son resembled his mother more. Faijashi sighed in relief as he looked at the child smiling brightly at him.
The child grew rapidly. As he did, Faijashi felt his own body dying, as if his son was sucking the life out of him. Thankfully.
The old man in the mural always scolded the child, the little one, the boy, and then the young man. His twisted fingers swung harshly, and he spewed curses.
“No, no!”
Fernandez shouted with bloodshot eyes. No, no… I just, I just didn’t want that child to resemble me. That’s all.
The boy raised his small arm towards the coldly retreating old man. The boy’s hand grasped the air a few times before falling weakly.
Regardless of Faijashi’s wishes, the child grew even stronger. Like his father, he never gave up. He became a young man with striking blue eyes and black curly hair.
“Father, I’ve burned down their stronghold this time. Father…”
The son looked up at Faijashi with eyes tangled in fear, terror, sadness, and anger. The old mage, sitting on the throne and panting, clicked his tongue and coldly looked down at his son.
“…What of Karamar’s fortress?”
“Not yet, not yet. But soon it will fall into our hands…”
“Useless fool.”
The son flinched and stopped at those words. Faijashi’s dull eyes looked down at him. As always, his father didn’t meet his gaze. He just sat there.
– Heh heh, heh.
The demons lined up in the audience hall laughed at him in unison. The son’s hands trembled for a moment before he clenched them tightly.
“Next time, I will bring something that won’t shame you, Father.”
The son turned and left. Soon, the doors of the audience hall closed.
*
Looking at the jaw, lips, and nose that resembled his mother’s, Faijashi felt like he was looking at a mirror reflecting his own failure to protect his wife.
Listening to the eyes, hair, and strong voice that resembled his own, Faijashi felt like he was seeing the hardships and thorny path laid out for his son’s future.
The son was his mirror. A mirror reflecting his bare face and wretched soul. Faijashi hated his son.
Until he faced his corpse.
“Ugh…!!”
*
“Ugh…!!”
Blood mixed with internal tissue spilled from Fernandez’s mouth. His lungs were torn, making it hard to even breathe. He walked with half-closed eyes, tears of blood streaming down his face.
– Thud!
The memories of that day, the emotions, colors, scents, and sensations swirled around his tongue and nose. The mural wasn’t just replaying memories. It was recreating his entire experience directly in his mind.
“Gasp…!”
– Thud!
He took another step. One more.
– Thud!
Half-crawling, using the blade as a cane, he barely managed to move forward. The greatswords lining the walls reflected his face.
In the dark blade, he saw an old man vomiting blood. Fernandez glared at the blade through his blood-teared vision.
The old man glared back at him.
*
– Aaahhh!! Father!! Father!!
It was a horrifying scream. The resurrected son dug out his own heart and confirmed that it was black and dead. He looked at the hole in his chest where his heart had been and confirmed that he was still moving.
– Ugh… ugh…
He destroyed himself until he was a pile of flesh. As long as Faijashi’s magic sustained him, the son couldn’t kill himself.
So, Faijashi ended his son’s second life with his own hands.
That day, he lost his son twice.
He looked at the son’s flesh, crushed beyond recognition. In the cold pile of corpses, Faijashi absurdly remembered Aria.
Her nose, lips, jawline… Now he had nothing left to remind him of her.
“I regret it, Aria.”
With trembling hands, Faijashi touched his son’s corpse and slowly closed his eyes. He remembered the small, white fingers reaching out to him.
I should have held you one more time. I should have smiled warmly at you one more time. My son. Even as I face you like this.
I remember the day you were born. Even the moment you grew cold in my arms.
“I regret it, Aria. I regret it.”
A single tear fell from Faijashi’s dry eyes.
*
Fernandez could no longer move. Physically or emotionally. He knelt down, closing his eyes.
The corridor walls no longer had murals. They no longer twisted or spiraled.
They just stretched straight ahead, towards him. In the cold, quiet center of the corridor, Fernandez sat with his eyes closed.
– Step onto the gallows, sinner. Feel the weight of your sins. Judgment begins.
In front of Fernandez, at the far end of the corridor, a massive altar appeared. The end was finally near.
– Whoosh.
Light flared up. From Fernandez’s chest and back. The Divine Warrior’s stigma began to flicker. Immortal, unyielding.
“Fine.”
Fernandez’s eyes glowed blue through his disheveled black hair.
– Thud.
One more step. Fernandez slowly rose to his feet. The greatsword reflected the light, gleaming. Fernandez’s eyes looked at the statue of the Jackal God standing before him.
The Jackal was smiling. Its bronze spear was visible.
– Thud.
One more step. His foot moved. Even though the oppressive weight made each step difficult, he didn’t stop.
Because he never lived complacently.
Towards the dead god who declared judgment on the Inquisition Officer.
“I’m coming, Kadán. If your curse ends here, pray.”
To any god, with any words. Desperately. Twisting those dead lips, by any means necessary.
Because I no longer intend to regret.
![[TS] Obsessed Gamer: The Ultimate Return](https://i3.wp.com/novelhitam.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/TS-Obsessed-Gamer-The-Ultimate-Return2.png?resize=85,105 "[TS] Obsessed Gamer: The Ultimate Return")
