God's Choice (2)
The swordsmen from each nation focused their minds to shake off the mental disorientation typical of Imir.
"Ugh! Ugh!"
There were countless men retching from nausea, but even so they were hand-picked elites.
On average it took them less than a minute to snap out of the confusion.
"Phew."
And everyone realized that some of the scenes they'd seen during that derangement were not hallucinations.
"Imir…."
The king of the giants groaned, his face distorted.
"Kruuu—"
The shock was even greater because they'd just gotten an indirect sense of how powerful Imir really was.
Naturally, all eyes trained on the blue-haired swordsman with the massive back.
"Everyone."
Rian twisted at the waist and gave a warm smile.
"Long time no see." Clump fought desperately to keep from crying at the sight of his grandson returned from hell.
'He's aged.'
If he hadn't been the commander leading an army, he might have genuinely mistaken him for someone else.
"So. You're finally here? You've gotten pretty strong…"
Before Clump could finish, Tess slid from her horse and charged at Rian.
"Yo."
The moment Rian lifted a hand, she dove into his arms.
"Whew."
Even here she managed to whistle; their nerves were numb enough for that.
Rian smiled and asked, "How've you been?"
"You idiot."
Tess lifted her head; her eyes were wet.
"If you were coming, you should've said you were coming, right?"
"...Sorry."
She knew it was a ridiculous thing to say, but Tess felt sorry for a lot of things.
Imir spoke up.
"Sorry to interrupt, but can I say something? You're the person I'm happiest to see."
Rian's blow a moment ago was the only reason Imir had crossed the universe.
Tess snapped back.
"I don't want to hear you say you're glad to see me—someone who tramples life like ants."
"Hey."
Imir's eyes hardened, and a spirit-palm—an imprint of it—was stamped into Tess's mind.
'Ugh!'
The next instant the attack should have struck; it was a spirit palm, and even without it the blow would have been lethal.
"He's the strong one, not you. Those without qualification should not interfere."
"Stop."
As an aura of Asura radiated from Rian, the pressure that had been bearing down on Tess eased.
No attack came.
"Haah! Haah!"
Tess panted hard, but Imir didn't even bother to care.
'He let the spirit-palm go lightly.'
He was only curious about the brutal Asura energy that rolled over Rian's shoulders.
'A godly realm?'
Asura Balbalta (Buddha of the Battlefield).
'That feeling from just now…'
It was the most perfect single strike, delivered after mastering every battle in the world.
'Not talent, not trickery.'
Only the maximum experience piled up by sheer effort.
'How many has he cut down?'
He was practically itching to fight.
"You've grown. Is this a development of the mind now? Good. This time, you and I—"
"Why fight?" Rian's question cut Imir off.
"Imir, you're strong. The label 'the strongest' has always followed your history. But you do nothing. Your fights have no cause, no purpose."
"...So?"
"If you don't fight to gain something—if what you want is only the victory itself—take it. I'll give you that. But won't you stop fighting now?"
In the hush, Clump thought, 'That reckless kid… now he can even say polished things. No, honestly he's better than me. It must mean he endured that kind of torment in hell.'
"What nonsense is that?"
Imir's expression contorted fiercely.
"You've seen so much blood you really think you're some kind of butcher? No—you're a blood fiend. A fiend that follows the scent of blood. Your level is perfect for cutting someone down."
"Maybe so."
Rian did not deny it.
"But I don't want to win anymore. That's all. If you want victory, take it."
"You stupid—"
For nothing more than victory.
"No, it's fine."
Imir curled his mouth coldly.
"I'll give you a reason."
Killing intent swelled without end, and everyone in the arena went pale.
"Take cover!"
Fleeing speed separated masters from novices, but to Imir they were nothing but small creatures.
"Too late."
A full-force blow slammed into the air, compressing it like steel; the compressed air burst outward.
"Drop dead, all of you."
He intended to force Rian's lid off, but space warped again.
"Huh?"
An ether wave.
The distortion bent almost into a line and curved toward Imir.
Bang!
Imir's head was snapped ninety degrees as the steel air he'd launched came flying back at him.
"…What are you?"
From a tear in space, a true sacred tone appeared.
"I am Jinseong-eum, Emperor of the True Heavens."
As the survivors scattered in every direction, she spoke to Rian.
"I will travel the world now to gather people. I cannot help in the fighting."
Her mission was transport and nothing more.
It had already been made clear when Imir had sparred with his molars that ether waves were not effective against him.
"Understood. Please do."
Giants' forces were coming anyway; humanity needed to consolidate its strength.
When Jinseong-eum vanished, Imir grumbled.
"The place is crawling with gnats. Want me to just wipe the whole area?"
"No need."
The moment Rian drew the Great Scale, thousands of blade-like killers surged forward.
"I'll handle them."
"Heh heh heh."
See? He couldn't help it.
'People like us—'
Imir, who had seemed about to fall, kicked off the ground and disappeared the next instant.
"If I don't do this, I'll die!"
From Rian's rush, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of afterimages bloomed.
"Kruuu!"
Different battlefields and fights—each a panel of hellish scenery—filled the backdrop.
'Asura…'
A realization beyond all accumulated experience.
'Balbalta!'
The most flawless strike pierced Imir's senses and drove into his flank.
'Damn!'
Late to react, Imir dropped his elbow to block the Great Scale's blade, but—
"Uagh, shit…!"
Kraaaaaaang!
The flash had already slashed broadly across the world.
In the underground temple of the Kergo ruins, Shirone's group faced the reborn Mu-myeong.
"Where is he?"
It was a question lacking context, but for the dead the strongest memory is singular.
'Kuan.'
The swordsman who had cut Mu-myeong.
When Shirone fell silent, Mu-myeong walked toward him.
"No matter. If he's number one in this world, we'll meet him eventually even if only a few die."
"A few?"
Mu-myeong cocked his head.
"Why? You don't have to kill them all. Kill one and everyone of that level falls beneath me. Kill the next tier and another batch drops down…
It's the mechanism that sets the hierarchy on the battlefield."
"In the end, only a tiny minority at the very top remain. We've killed about twenty here already; even at the very least there should be some three hundred million under me, right?" Shirone looked over the bodies of the Kergo tribesmen.
'Mahatu.'
If they hadn't risked their lives to hold the room, Shirone's party would have been wiped out by the slimmest margin.
'Mu-myeong is probably a safeguard program—an administrator.'
'I don't know whether he lost his memory because of a missing link, or if he's pretending despite remembering.'
There was nothing to gain from fighting him.
"Heh heh, everyone thinks that at first."
Gaold stepped forward.
"So what if he's number one? You rookie who hasn't even lost his baby fuzz are talking big. Come on. I'm ranked five-trillion-five-hundred-million; I'll take him on."
"No."
Shirone reached out and stopped him.
"Mu-myeong instantly assimilates every ability. We don't need to show our full strength."
Gaold knew that much.
"So what? If we eliminate him here, that's it, right? We have to clash with him at least once."
"Heaven is different. We can't just think of ourselves now. If Mu-myeong absorbs our power by any chance, it will derail every plan we have going forward."
"Hmm."
"God chose that hitman because the Law in a closed world is designed to reach the top fastest."
It was a fusion of the Angel of Achievement and Garas.
"First, remove the nasty variable. I want to stall as long as possible until Mu-myeong reaches me."
Gaold asked, "Why are you sounding like you're claiming to be number one?"
Honestly, he had a point.
"That's not important now. We have to regroup at the cathedral. Things over there don't look good."
"Even so—"
Just as Kangnan was about to speak, the space in the wall warped and the corridor of the Delta HQ appeared.
"Shirone."
Jinseong-eum came out to meet them.
"Oh ho."
Only then did the party grasp Shirone's plan and head down the cathedral corridor.
Miro glanced at the sacred tone.
'Perfect timing. Space is also time—so that's why Shirone wanted to save them.'
Of course the biggest reason to favor the sacred tone was its indomitable will that could withstand even hell.
While Shirone, who had guarded the entrance until the party moved, kept Mu-myeong in check, he said, "I'll cancel the simultaneous event. With the sacred tone, bring Zulu from the Pyramid of Truth."
"All right. Be careful."
When Gaold's party vanished and the cathedral scenery became a wall, Shirone's expression changed.
"Mu-myeong."
The anger of the Kergo people—anger Shirone had to set aside for the sake of humanity—was in his voice.
"You will never surpass Kuan."
A world where mere excellence makes you the best was only God's theory.
After Shirone erased the simultaneous event and disappeared, Mu-myeong fell into thought alone.
'How to cut Kuan.'
The way to suppress moves that defy common sense was to dominate space.
When Mu-myeong closed his eyes, the air trembled and the scenery began to crumple.
An ether wave.
As Mu-myeong's body vanished, a bang rang out from the opposite wall.
He struck the wall head-on, stood for a moment, then collapsed.
What had gone wrong?
"Aha."
An insight, sharp as divine intelligence, began instantly correcting the mistakes.
'This is much harder than I thought.'
Determined to do it properly, he sat cross-legged and sank into deep meditation.
Time left until master: 38 minutes 27 seconds.
Pyramid of Truth.
Since Shirone had gone to the outside world, Zulu's party still remained at the top.
They could only wait, but change soon came here as well.
"Glen!"
When Shirone deployed Uroboros, even the heartless Glen began to change.
"I want to live."
Ares saw hope, but Arin—on the cusp of puberty—saw Glen differently.
"Nothing's changed yet."
Caught between man and non-man by the collision of God's tachyon and Shirone's tachyon, Glen remained in a liminal state.
"Gl—Glen…"
Rukia reached out and took Glen's hand.
Exhausted from the shock of a god's right hand and a demon's left, she nevertheless had an experience that altered God's definition.
'Yahweh—.'
That experience changed God's justice.
'Grant Glen courage.'
When we save ourselves, God dwells in each of our hearts.