Chapter 158: The War Between Humans and Gods is Always One of Endless Death and Restlessness (5k)
The Abyss roared, and the wind and tides ebbed and flowed.
The dim yellow sea surged with waves as towering as mountains.
Rast stood atop the tower, gazing down at the illusory sea below the cliff, looking for a long, long time.
Until the figure of the girl, who flowed with the blood of both humans and gods, could no longer be seen amidst the gauzy night and the rising and falling waves, he slowly turned away, retracting his gaze from the Abyss.
Then, Rast redirected his attention to the top of the towering structure, where the fluctuating Abundant Domain and the distorted branches and leaves writhed.
“The heroine of the fairy tale has returned to the mortal realm.”
“Now, what I have left to do—”
“Is simply to finish the final act.”
His voice and expression remained calm, akin to an ancient, unchanging still pool.
However—
At the same time.
At the root of Rast’s soul, in the spiritual world manifested by his heart, an entirely different scene unfolded.
The heart’s imagery that originally solely belonged to Rast was now tainted by a streak of pitch black filth.
It was a dark black that swallowed all light, completely shrouding Rast’s spiritual world… and that streak of darkness was gradually eroding from the outside, corrupting and on the verge of corroding Rast’s mental barriers, intending to let that most profound darkness invade his spiritual world.
Just like the nightmare Akshia experienced while sleeping in the Ice Coffin—an eternally dark sky, paired with a frigid blizzard…
And when the blizzard completely swallowed the faint glow of the Flame Seed… Rast’s personality and all of himself would also be erased.
This was the corruption from the God of Death, an erosion initiated by the lingering thoughts of that ancient God of Death, and a result that Rast was bound to face.
When he used the “King and Rook Swap” to rescue the imprisoned queen from a deadly plight, helping her escape the Night World and return to reality—an equivalent exchange had already occurred.
And the cost of the equivalent exchange… was that Rast, in the guise of a “rook,” had to bear all the causes and effects faced by a “king.”
As the hybrid of human and god, the perfect vessel Akshia had already vanished from this world, thus Rast became the last lifeline for that remnants of the God of Death…
Aside from occupying the body of the boy before him and transforming Rast into a new vessel, there was no other choice left for him.
Boom—
In the spiritual world, the remnants of the ancient God turned into dark waves, constantly crashing against the boy’s mental barriers, burning holes into the void.
This was an unfair confrontation that was fated from the very beginning…
After all, this was the God of Death’s divine thought; even though it experienced long years of sleep and decline, just a shred of its fragmented soul was not something an ordinary human could contend with.
That was the exalted ancient God, who once stood atop the clouds in the distant Age of Gods, overlooking the mortal world for thousands of years, where humans seemed like livestock confined in a pasture in their eyes.
In the face of the grand will forged from tens of thousands of years of long life, ordinary humans, even at their best, amounted to just a few decades—not even a hundred years of memories and self-will that were as contemptible as dust.
It was akin to those afflicted by the Plague, retaining all memories yet losing their humanity… devolving into beasts that only exist to inflict suffering, like the Iron Cross cultists. The ancient God’s pollution eroded and corrupted the human soul with the ease of a powerful steamroller crushing stones.
The balance of victory and defeat had completely tilted towards the side of the gods long before the gamble began—
And the only remaining fairness was that the stakes each side had bet were equal, with the loser losing everything, whether god or human.
Crack—
Crack—
In the spiritual world, the sound of cracks echoed.
That was the remnants of the ancient God of Death eroding Rast’s mental barriers, leaving fissures after a prolonged process of deterioration and corruption.
The process of invading the mindscape of this unfamiliar human boy was longer than the ancient God of Death had anticipated.
As an ancient God, He had once spread faith among humans and developed followers through means of pollution… but had never encountered such fierce resistance.
Ordinary humans’ mental barriers should have been as fragile as paper before a divine thought, easily broken with a snap of the fingers.
Only after achieving the transformation of life’s essence and reaching legendary status could human warriors elevate their spiritual power into a tangible sea of consciousness, gaining a higher perspective to observe their own soul and mind.
Generally speaking, only legendary figures could have a brief chance to resist divine thoughts, avoiding instant corruption—if extraordinary individuals beneath the legendary level were no different from ants in the eyes of a deity, the legendary rank represented that they were no longer mere ants to be easily extinguished, but possessed qualifications to stand before gods.
However, the vessel now invaded by the remnants of the God of Death… after stripping away the authority stolen from himself, its true ranking was only around the fourth or fifth tier.
Clearly not legendary, but the process of infiltrating the mind was exceptionally difficult; his spiritual force was no longer an ethereal existence but had materialized like that of a legendary being, forming a genuine and vivid heart imagery.
Yet—
Even so, the erosion had ultimately been completed.
Once breaking through the mental barriers… the remnants could invade his heart imagery world, directly interfering with his memories and psyche.
As long as they were human, weakness in humanity would certainly exist, and psychological deficiencies were no exception—even legendary figures were not saved from this.
Thus, although the process seemed arduous… once the invasion was complete, it became possible to use these weaknesses as leverage to gradually annihilate the other’s self.
Just like not long ago, what Akshia experienced in that nightmare—where the God of Death was gradually corrupting her self.
Such an idea flickered in the remnants of the ancient God.
Then, the mental barriers of the human boy were finally completely breached.
The world barrier let out a faint groan before shattering into countless scattering points of light.
The remnants of the God of Death finally broke through the barrier and entered Rast’s heart imagery world.
However, immediately after.
The ripples of thought within the divine thought… suddenly froze in that instant.
As an ancient God from the Age of Gods, the ruler of death, the king of the countless souls of the underworld—the ancient God of Death had witnessed countless spiritual worlds, heart imagery landscapes.
These spiritual world owners came from different races, some strong and some weak, among them not lacking truly legendary heart imaginations.
However, the God of Death had never seen such a landscape as this before.
What kind of heart imagery world was this—
A surface ruptured with massive cracks, crumbling buildings, hot winds carrying scorching smoke, and twisted and deformed metal pipes under high temperatures.
It was a desolate wreckage, a ruined small town named “Canaan.”
In the distance along the horizon, dancing flames flickered.
The dim sky was filled with countless massive gears blocking out the sun, each interlocking and slowly rotating.
This was a world reminiscent of an iron smelting factory; aside from the ruined town in the red wasteland and those dim and slowly revolving giant gears in the far sky… it was otherwise completely barren.
The remnants of the God of Death suddenly stagnated… what was originally a planned action to seek out the weaknesses in Rast’s humanity within his heart imagery, and to corrupt and erode him, now stalled at the starting point, unable to proceed any further.
Ordinary, rational individuals of humanity would always have various desires.
For example, male desires generally revolve around a few common things—wealth rivaling nations, power to dominate, strength to overlook all beings, or beauties that can captivate nations.
And the same goes for women, who might want to become beautiful, remain youthful, or seek genuine, happy love…
These are commonalities of humanity, which even those ascending to legendary status cannot evade.
Of course, most people have learned to hide their desires from outsiders, not openly expressing their greed and wants.
However, in the spiritual world, where the essence of their minds is manifested in heart landscapes… those desires, usually concealed painstakingly, are fully displayed without reservation, transforming into tangible forms.
Similarly, these tangible forms born of desire and emotion—are also the weaknesses in humanity, the very flaws and defects the remnants of the God of Death sought to exploit.
Yet, in Rast’s heart imagery world, such things did not exist.
Aside from the desolate ruins on the red wasteland, there was nothing else in his spiritual world.
Abandoning human desires, losing understanding of worldly emotions—
Only remaining were the enormous interlocking gears that filled the dim sky, slowly rotating within the entire firmament.
This was Rast’s heart world, forged over three hundred years in Deep Blue Harbor.
As the gears of the spirit turned slowly, the mind burned fiercely like the heart of a smelting furnace—
Driven by the interlocking of gears and the furnace’s heart, this hollow shell and the life known as Rast lived mechanically, solely for the preset target named “Guardian.”
Beyond that, his psyche contained nothing else.
Thus, that ancient God of Death simply could not erode Rast’s will using weak points in humanity, as he had done with Akshia.
In a world ruled by mechanical gears, devoid of anything save for ruins… how could one possibly find humanity’s weaknesses within such a psyche?
[Heart of Iron]
[Category: Innate Skill]
[An endless repeating day, a cycle of time is not a blessing for humanity, but rather the most despairing curse. No matter how sincere the feelings or burning the ideals, in the face of long periods of time, they will inevitably decay, deteriorate, and ultimately transform into nothingness.]
[The mind that operates like gears is truly mocking, like a heart of iron.]
[So, what then supports this dilapidated shell to move forward… ?]
[Skill Effect: Your soul resistance increases by 50%, and the effects of pollution, corruption, seduction, mental manipulation, hypnosis, and mind-reading abilities targeting you will be significantly reduced, and will incur backlash on the user.]
This innate skill granted to the boy by the Night World, rather than being a reward for a task…
Could be said to be the most concrete portrayal of his inner world.
The pitch-black essence of the God of Death stood upon the crimson wasteland yet unusually found itself in a halt.
It had consumed a vast amount of divine thought to invade Rast’s spiritual world, aiming to find cracks in his defense, only to find nothing.
“Surprised, are you?”
Amidst the sound of rotating gears, the boy’s voice emerged from the depths of the dim firmament, echoing across the entire red wasteland.
“To think that a human heart imagery world could be so incomplete and desolate, it’s almost akin to that of a vegetable…”
“But precisely because it’s in such a ruined state… I can’t grasp any angle to invade and occupy this shell, converting it into a vessel for your revival as expected.”
The boy sighed lightly: “To be honest, I find it somewhat regretful that my heart imagery has become this way.”
“If you want to place the blame, then blame your colleague from the Age of Gods, that fellow who created the Iron Cross Plague on the continent.”
“Indeed, that very evil god revered by the Iron Cross, who turned my spiritual world into this ghastly state.”
“Iron Cross…”
Very rarely, the remnants of the God of Death made a response.
The supreme deities would not ordinarily converse with ants; the reason for the response… was that in this divine thought’s judgment, Rast was no longer an ordinary extraordinary individual but had become, like a legendary figure, someone qualified to converse with himself.
The ancient God’s voice was like the clashing of bronze vessels: “The ‘Bound One’?”
“Do you have any intersection with Him?”
Though long since fallen from a myriad of eras, the God of Death’s remnants could still glean a rough understanding of the happenings on the continent through its left-behind schemes in the Abyss and Paradise.
And the one responsible for creating the Iron Cross Plague was the ancient God known as “the Bound One.”
In the First Era, during that far-off Age of Gods, both the Bound One and the God of Death were great beings who had ascended to the divine throne.
But times have changed, and with the disappearance of the Age of Gods and the end of the divine era… the God of Death chose voluntary obliteration, attempting to be reborn in human form, while the “Bound One” chose to conceal himself on the threshold of the cerulean heaven to sustain his own existence.
“The evil god who created the Iron Cross Plague is named ‘the Bound One’?”
Rast’s words paused slightly; this was a secret he had not previously known.
Indeed, those who had survived from the Age of Gods were like living repositories of knowledge—merely leaking a bit became a forbidden secret for later generations.
“Indeed, that cursed thing has killed me countless times… As for being infected by the Iron Cross Plague and having my mind corrupted by the will of the evil god, that’s even more numerous, to the point I can’t count them anymore.”
“That fellow has polluted and corrupted me far too many times—In order to resist that pollution, I had no choice but to transform my heart imagery and spiritual world into a ruinous state like this.”
“Because only in that way could I maintain my sanity and preserve my complete self amidst the infection of the Iron Cross.”
“So if you’re looking to blame someone, direct it at your colleague.”
“He has rehearsed the process of corrupting a mind on me far too many times, to the extent that I’ve become somewhat immune, or in other words, developed resistance to it…”
Rast’s tone remained calm: “While I would love to chat with you a bit more, it seems Noah’s old avatar is even more powerful than I imagined and is likely going to suppress his own flesh distortion.”
“So, in order for me to complete my final task…”
“Old God of Death, you should get ready to die.”
Hearing the boy’s plain words, the remnants of the God of Death suddenly felt bewildered.
Then, He heard the roar of interlocking gears.
In the heart imagery world, the world barrier, the dim expanse of sky, which had originally been broken and invaded by the God of Death’s remnants, silently began to heal and close up.
Then.
Boom—
A fierce wind pressure sliced through the earth.
That was a blade forged from the spirit, accompanied by the howling winds sweeping across the wasteland.
As prey targeted by the deity and the chosen vessel by the remnants, the human boy now transformed his soul and all his heart imagery into a well-forged blade, swinging it toward the remnants of the ancient God.
The God of Death suddenly understood.
A “qualified hunter” always enters the scene in the guise of the prey.
Not only had He seen Rast as his prey, but from the very beginning, Rast had also been plotting against this remnant of the God of Death.
The Star Cup and Holy Grail had been returned to Akshia and vanished from this world…
Having lost the reliance on the power of the God of Death, with only the fourth or fifth tier remaining for Rast… facing the now liberated Noah who had shed his flesh distortion, there were no further means left to him.
Thus, Rast had to consume his own remnants, for only then could he regain the power of the Abyss and transform the entire Abyss, along with the remnants of the God of Death, into his home ground.
By harnessing the strength of the entire Abyss, he intended to confront and restrain Noah, who had broken free.
The previous cracks on Rast’s mental barriers were not eroded and breached by himself… but were limitations he had voluntarily alleviated, a trap to draw the God of Death into.
The aim was to lure the remnants of the God of Death to actively enter into his spiritual world, into his heart imagery.
This simultaneously severed the retreat for the God of Death’s remnants and himself.
This was a choice to cut off one’s own retreat path, as well as the most perilous gamble.
They were trapped beasts in their cage, with no path left for retreat and no room for regret.
Whichever side it was, the only thing they could do was to fight, to wield their blades against each other, using all means to kill their opponent until they bit through their enemy’s throat.
The war between humans and gods…
Has always been one of never-ending life and death.
(End of Chapter)
