### Chapter Two: Setting Sail
I’m definitely not some kind of deity.
In religious terms, a god is a creator, a savior, a revealer, the source of truth, the one and only ruler, the overseer of the world and the universe—absolute, eternal, undying and immortal. Even in the descriptions of the church’s “Revelations,” the so-called gods are somewhat akin to this existence.
You can’t just call something a god because it has incomprehensible power.
In reality, the true “gods” of this world are the Gidales family from hundreds of years ago. They possessed vast powers and were able to bless humanity with those powers, leading the early church to label them as “gods.” I once faced such a presence alongside that dancer.
And now, I’m worried I might become one of them.
My power has clearly exceeded some boundary to the point that even I’m not sure what horrifying things I could accomplish if I unleashed it fully.
Whether it’s the Power of Order or the Chaotic Power, or even Infernal Fire, half a year ago, during my rebirth, I merely tried a bit and ended up corrupting an entire wasteland. Those tough knights had no chance against the rampant chaos, and during that encounter, I hadn’t even tried my hardest.
I’m at a complete loss when it comes to knowing my limits.
It just feels like—
The power is inexhaustible, vast beyond measure.
With just a fleeting thought, I might end up destroying this world.
Whether that’s the case or not, I doubt I’ll get a chance to verify it again, nor do I really want to. It’s merely out of reason that I restrain myself, at least until I’m sure my mental state is stable, that no new changes will occur, and that I’m still within a safe range where I won’t bring about catastrophic disasters to the people or things around me—I won’t return to the Western Continent just yet.
Because there are people there whom I care about and who care about me.
I can’t endanger them.
After sorting these thoughts out, I suddenly realized, even if I’ve lost emotional fluctuations and look down upon the masses like a “god,” there are still a few figures firmly rooted in my heart, deep down. Even if I might not miss them or feel moved, I still think of them—more or less, there’s still a sense of concern.
I often think of them and sometimes dream about them.
Father, Mother, Victoria, Lafael, Pasifal, Pagos, Sharman, Rect, Sarah, Sophia, Daisy…
Even when I think of them, I don’t have too many emotions, but at least I remember them.
Occasionally, I think of scenes of meeting them again.
And then there’s Carlos.
Ever since he was severely injured protecting me and taken away by Lapria six months ago, I have no idea where he went… I later visited that tavern in White Town and searched the hometown he mentioned, combing through many towns, but couldn’t get any leads on the two of them.
Are they doing alright?
They must be alive, right?
Maybe…
They’ve safely returned to the Western Continent.
After all, it’s been half a year by now…
As I pondered, I sorted the coins in my small package into two piles. One silver coin rolled away, and when I picked it up and put it back, I caught sight of the short sword sheathed in leather within the package. Victoria’s breathtakingly cool face flashed through my mind.
I wonder…
Is she doing well?
This short sword named “Dragon Claw” was given to Victoria by the Sword Saint, and Victoria then passed it on to me. I nearly lost it in that flattened little town.
Later, using my memory, I found Ailna’s cellar within the dark, muddy region. I had initially planned to take some documents from there, but the Abyss Mud had seeped in through the gaps in the cellar’s entrance, flooding the entire space. The bookshelf collapsed, and the books were all but destroyed, but the “Dragon Claw,” hanging on the wall above the stone bed, was spared. I managed to rescue it.
It was also from that place that I watched Lapria take Carlos away, and then I saw the Sword Saint descend from the sky. He didn’t notice me hidden under the Abyss Mud in the cellar, and at that time, I wasn’t interested in meeting the legendary strongest Pope Knight.
If I could help it, I wouldn’t want to become his enemy.
After all, he was Carlos’s teacher, Viki’s mentor, my father’s old friend, and Grandma Bersa’s beloved. Although objectively, the old man and I hadn’t really crossed paths, he had connections to everyone around me. Besides, if we did meet, he might actually recognize me.
Plus, it seems he killed that dancer.
I followed the traces of battle later and saw at least three villages affected by the aftereffects of Infernal Fire and sword aura. They fought fiercely, and at the gigantic crater left by the final explosion behind Huangshan, the power of the Infernal Fire seemingly vanished completely there.
And that old man eventually left.
Before he did, he examined the few ice walls that I had conjured. Perhaps…
He would connect some dots from that.
Afterward, the old Sword Saint, Carlos, and Lapria seemed to disappear without a trace. I gathered some information about them to no avail, but I happened to learn about something intriguing.
I went upstream along the Red River.
There, I saw the Abyss Mud that Ailna mentioned, ready to swallow everything, and countless corpses buried in the endless yellow sand, dying of illness and starvation.
The breeding of that Abyss Mud seemed to have started more than twenty years ago when there were terrifying abyss monsters appearing there, but ironically, it was not the church that ultimately destroyed that monster.
It was the people from the Gate of Truth.
[A terrifying black abyss erodes the land, and mighty warriors bathe in bl**d and fire to rise and extinguish it.]
This is a legend passed down among the people there.
However…
Even after the monster was gone, the Abyss Mud continued to slowly spread every year, yet no one cared anymore—rumor has it that the desert church of Eborista has always turned a blind eye, only preaching to the relatively prosperous northern part of the Eastern Continent, completely ignoring the survival of the impoverished people over here.
As for what happened to those bl**d-bathed warriors…
I guess they probably all perished in that encirclement battle twenty-two years ago.
In these past six months, my emotions, state, and will have been exceptionally stable.
On this side of the Eastern Continent…
It seems there’s no longer any reason to stay.
So, taking advantage of the early year and the melting ice and snow along the Western Coast, trade ships have started to become active again. I went all by myself to Nogowai Sea Port, picking a nondescript cargo ship, chatting with a not-so-smart but kind-hearted man, telling him I was heading to the Western Continent to find my family. After paying, I boarded the ship with him.
Once aboard, gazing at the vast, featureless ocean, thinking about the people I once knew across the sea—those who miss me and those who have betrayed me, my enemies—when I think about these things, deep down…
There aren’t too many waves within me.
However—
I still need to go back to check things out.
…………
Not long after, the cargo ship set sail.
The ship’s side sliced through the waves, the sails whooshed in the breeze. Two crescent moons shone brightly in the sky, casting a faint night light. Amidst the bustling voices on deck, one ship after another departed the harbor, heading toward the far-off star-studded sky for their journey.
What will it be like when we meet again?
