Chapter 376: A Future Without Me (4)
Keter and Balt stood facing each other in silence. In this land of death, where even Master-level warriors suffered, neither of them was affected.
Keter endured through Logistic, the Authority he received from Amon. Balt stood beneath a crimson umbrella formed from his blood sword, Dracula.
“I told you. If you didn’t follow me, I’d have no choice but to kill you.”
Balt wasn’t threatening him. He sounded like an older brother scolding a younger one.
Keter replied in kind, “You were the one who betrayed trust first. Before that, I really thought you were someone I could rely on.”
“You call it betrayal just because I was gone for one day?”
“You say that knowing what happened that one day? Seven died, and five became crippled.”
“I didn’t know they would attack while I was gone. When I came back, I killed them all. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?”
“That revenge felt good, but it didn’t bring anyone back.”
“I left to negotiate with the Godfather. In the end, I succeeded, and Liqueur became a better place. The reason I serve him to this day is to make not just Liqueur, but the entire world a better place.”
“Surviving doesn’t mean living well, Balt.”
“Don’t twist my words. I know that. The Godfather, as well as I, seek a world of equality. We want a world without poverty or suffering—a fair world. And it won’t take long,” Balt said, extending his hand. “It’s not too late, my foolish brother. Cooperate with me now. Even if the Godfather doesn’t forgive you, I will.”
“I didn’t know bullshit could be like poetry. You know, someone who doesn’t know the situation might think I’m the villain and you the protagonist.”
“I just want to set things right.”
Keter was about to argue, but then stopped. He was going to say that Balt was foolish for still being tied to the past, but he was the same. The fall of Sefira in his previous life and his current goal of getting revenge on Queen Lillian, the cause… That, too, was in the past.
Keter couldn’t condemn Balt. Keter couldn’t confidently say that he had forgotten the past and was living in the present.
“I agree that everyone has a world that they want, but in the end, it becomes an ultimatum of who lives and who dies.” Keter slapped Balt’s hand away. “And I think a perfectly equal world is hell. A world where everyone is free is better.”
“Murder, rape, inequality, discrimination, fraud… You want a world where the weak are preyed upon and the righteous suffer?”
“You only appreciate warmth after knowing the cold. Happiness only matters after suffering. If everyone is happy, then no one is.”
Balt slowly withdrew his hand.
“This was a waste of time. I should have known that there was no getting through to you.”
“Get it right. I understood you. You just didn’t understand me.”
“If you understood me, you would’ve taken my hand.”
“Understanding isn’t agreement. Nobody would bother you if you created the equal society you want in some remote mountainside, but you’re trying to change the world as you wish.”
“…”
“You know, I even understand why you’re changing the world as you wish. A powerful and wise person speaking on everyone’s behalf could be the answer. However, I think you are just powerful, not wise. That is why you’re trying to subdue everyone with strength.”
“There is no time to persuade all the selfish and foolish. A lunatic like you is beyond convincing, so I have no choice but to kill you.”
“That’s right. It’s much easier to kill someone who disagrees with you than persuade them.”
Boom!
In an instant, their positions swapped. They both slightly trembled while talking, then suddenly jumped up.
The moment Balt’s blood sword touched Keter’s neck, Keter’s kick drove into Balt’s abdomen, forcing him back. Yet just as it seemed he had been pushed away, the blood sword was already at the back of Keter’s neck once more.
Arrows formed around Keter and shot toward Balt. In response, the blood sword materialized at Balt’s sides, striking the arrows down. Still, the blood sword hung over Keter’s neck. Keter kept moving, never allowing his throat to be severed.
This exchange continued without pause. Keter used every means to push Balt away, while Balt clung to him like a magnet, relentlessly aiming for his neck.
And in that fleeting span of time, after dozens of exchanges had already been traded…
Slash.
Balt’s sword finally nicked Keter’s neck. His sword was Dracula, which contained the soul of the god of life. The moment Keter was cut by that blood sword, which controlled life-infused blood, he froze.
Ordinarily, even the slightest cut would turn the victim into a slave of the blood sword, but Keter’s body was no ordinary one. On top of that, he had trained his own resistance, so he only faltered for the briefest instant, perhaps a mere fraction of a second.
But that fleeting instant was no different from eternity to Transcendentals.
Squelch!
The sword plunged deeper, but not into Keter’s neck. He had jammed his arm between the sword and his throat. His arm was severed halfway through.
“Amaranth!”
At Keter’s call, the entity within his arm manifested.
“Dracula.”
Balt called his own, and Dracula also manifested.
Amaranth was extremely irritated at Keter. It did appear at Keter’s calling, but he had no intention of helping. Keter knew that, so he made an offer that couldn’t be refused.
“Help me one last time. When this ends, I’ll set you free. I swear it.”
“Tsk. That only matters if you survive.”
“Then fight harder.”
“If I win, Dracula is mine too.”
“Deal.”
Unlike Amaranth, who joined the battle through a deal, Dracula immediately acted. A crimson flash shot from its hand. Keter dodged the moment he saw it, but it still grazed him.
In response, Amaranth raised its hand, and a rain of Demon Arrows fell from the sky. Amaranth’s corruption-infused arrows could rot even this deathly land. However, it didn’t discriminate between enemy and ally, so it struck both Keter and Balt.
However, this was intentional, as Keter needed distance from Balt. Balt leaped forward, expecting Keter to retreat, but…
Thud!
…Keter surged forward instead and slammed his fist into Balt’s head.
* * *
Instead of widening the distance, Keter closed it even further. At first glance, it seemed as though he had exploited an opening in Balt’s defense, but that wasn’t the case at all. Balt had already anticipated that Keter would advance rather than retreat.
However, if his prediction had been wrong, the distance between them would have widened significantly. So, Balt had chosen a strategy that worked either way. Whether Keter moved forward or backward didn’t matter. If Keter charged in, he would block and counterattack. That had been the plan. And just as expected, Keter surged forward instead of retreating. Balt prepared to retaliate, but…
“…?!”
…Keter’s attack shattered his expectations. Balt had assumed Keter would aim for a vital point with arrows. If not arrows, then perhaps the sword he had often used before, but it was neither. Not an arrow or a sword but just a crude fist, not even imbued with Heavenly Strength. It was nothing more than raw physical strength—the pure, unrefined force of a human body.
Worse still, Keter didn’t even aim for the face. It came crashing down onto Balt’s head, like a flick to the forehead. It wasn’t lethal in the slightest. It didn’t even register as pain. It was a foolish move.
Keter had gambled everything by closing the distance. If he failed to kill Balt in that instant, then he would be the one to die. In other words, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; if Keter missed it, he would never defeat Balt. And yet, his attack was absurdly sloppy. The damage inflicted on Balt was so negligible that it might as well have been zero.
Because of that, Balt’s blood sword had a choice: whether to sever Keter’s neck, or cleave him in half. However, it didn’t move. No—Balt himself had frozen because that simple act of striking someone on the head with a fist dragged him back into the past. This was something Balt used to do often to Keter, and to the younger ones he had taken care of.
“Idiots need to be hit.”
“I told you not to act on your own, didn’t I?”
Whenever he disciplined them, he struck their heads, telling them to think again. Keter had been hit like that many times. And every time, he would protest, teary-eyed.
“Stop hitting my head! It’ll make me stupid!”
And Balt would scoff.
“Doesn’t look like there’s any room for it to get worse.”
They bickered, but they had been brothers who trusted and relied on each other.
“You idiot!”
Thud!
Balt’s fist slammed hard into Keter’s abdomen.
“You should’ve killed me when I hesitated!”
Thud! Thud!
Planting his blood sword into the ground, Balt rained punches down on Keter’s face. Keter didn’t even try to defend; he struck back just as fiercely.
“And what about you? Why the hell are you throwing punches too?!”
It looked like a brawl between brothers, but it was far too violent for that. Each step cracked the ground, and every blow sent shockwaves rippling through the air.
Crunch!
The two grabbed each other by the collar at the same time.
“You’re too soft. That’s why I couldn’t trust you.”
At those words, Balt hooked Keter’s leg, threw him down, and pinned him.
“Being weak isn’t a sin! Relying on someone stronger isn’t a sin!” Keter shouted.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Keter blocked Balt’s fists with both arms. Even so, the impact felt like his entire body was breaking apart, but he still forced the words out.
“Then you should’ve relied on me and not the Godfather.”
“…!”
Balt’s fist hesitated for a split second, and Keter seized the opportunity. Keter grabbed his wrist and twisted to reverse their positions. Then, he slammed his forehead against Balt’s.
Crack!!
It was just two human skulls colliding, yet it sounded like a drum exploding. Blood poured from both of their foreheads, but Keter wasn’t done.
“I!”
Crack!!
“Am!”
Crack!!
“Stronger than!”
Crack!!
“The fucking Godfather!”
Crack!!!!
Keter leaned all the way back then drove his head forward, smashing Balt’s skull into the ground and burying it deep. Balt trembled, his head embedded in the ground. Keter staggered to his feet, breathing heavily.
Amaranth and Dracula were still fighting, but the advantage was clearly with Dracula. This was obvious as Amaranth was still sealed, while Dracula had fully unleashed its power.
Amaranth was barely holding on. Keter reached out to help, but suddenly grabbed his head, swaying. He was dizzy. His legs weakened, and he felt like he was about to collapse. His lungs burned as if pierced by a sword.
“This…”
Keter hadn’t noticed because he was fighting Balt, but by the time he sensed something was wrong, it was already too late.
The acid rain pouring from the sky grew heavier, and the toxic gas rising from the ground became more potent. Its toxicity was so extreme that it pierced not only Keter’s natural poison resistance, but even Logistic, his adaptive Authority, and began to affect him. And this was by no means a natural phenomenon.
Footsteps echoed quietly through an environment worse than hell itself. Even Amaranth and Dracula, who had been locked in fierce combat, came to a halt.
Keter turned around. There stood a woman dressed in a nun’s uniform, her eyes closed. Her gentle face looked as though it could forgive any sin, but…
“…!”
Keter’s entire body and his very soul warned him: the being before him was something far more terrifying than anything he could have ever imagined.
