Chapter 757: God’s Will

The Burned One asked a question.

[What did you expect?]

No answer came.

To be precise, no one dared to respond.

Despair gripped the sight of Oliver, his body covered in burns, his side and right shoulder pierced, and his right arm severed.

Also, the demon standing over Oliver gripped a sword of flames, an overwhelming presence.

No one was able to answer.

“······.”

Like time itself had frozen, an eerie silence fell over everything.

Fortunately, The Burned One didn’t find this displeasing. After all, he hadn’t asked the question expecting an answer.

That’s why The Burned One continued to speak, with no response, excuse, or defense given. As if the answer had already been decided.

[Did you really think that if you ran away, He would fix everything?]

“······.”

[If you thought that, you are fools, utterly shameless. How could you expect Him to clean up the mess you made? How dare you hope He would rise up and come to save you?]

The Burned One, who had been staring into the void, fixed his gaze on a spot.

There stood an old man and a child.

A grandfather and his grandson, praying silently to God as they stared at the fallen Oliver, wishing he would rise and fight again.

He instinctively felt that was the only way to save his grandson.

It was not a wrong assumption. The problem was, The Burned One had heard the prayer.

A selfish prayer for the already broken Oliver to get up and suffer more. Truly-

[Disgusting.]

“Oh God······.”

The old man, meeting The Burned One’s gaze, clung to his teeth with a sharp, grinding noise, pleading for God.

He was trying to escape from a fear beyond his comprehension. But God remained silent. Only The Burned One answered.

[Do not dare to seek Him. He permitted me to come here. And do not dare to regret. I descended upon this land because of the sins you piled high like kindling.]

The Burned One stepped away and began walking towards the people.

Step.

The Kel Independent Free Army, The Fighter Crew, The Selectors.

Step.

Even the police, soldiers, and Holy Knights from the capital—many had gathered.

Step.

But no one could move. They could only watch as death, in human form, approached.

Step.

Just as The Burned One was about to do what he had come to do.

“You must······ keep your promise.”

Oliver stood up.

***

An even heavier silence than when The Burned One had spoken fell as everyone turned their heads towards the voice.

Even The Burned One was no exception.

The unstoppable demon of destruction halted his steps and slowly turned his head. He saw Oliver swaying as he rose, his entire body in shambles.

His hair bleached completely white, his left eye blinded by flames, burn marks covering his body, one arm missing—a wreck of a man.

Even though it wouldn’t be strange if he collapsed at any moment, he forcefully straightened his back and opened his mouth.

“I haven’t fallen yet-”

-Thud!

A flame burst from the stump of The Burned One’s severed arm and struck Oliver squarely in the chest.

The shockwave of fire sent Oliver flying backward, where he crashed to the ground.

“Guh····· cough! Ahhh····· cough!”

Lying flat on the ground, Oliver gasped for breath, writhing in agony while The Burned One turned away, continuing on his path.

“A promise! ······You must keep it!”

Oliver stopped The Burned One once more, twisting his body despite his struggles to stand.

Thud.

Halfway through standing, Oliver collapsed again, his face pressing into the dirt.

He tried to brace himself with his severed right arm, but ended up falling over.

His face became smeared with dirt, yet Oliver still propped himself up with his remaining left arm. The Burned One watched.

[Stop this.]

The Burned One spoke to Oliver telepathically. Even through this, his sincerity could be felt.

[Don’t get up again.]

Oliver ignored him and continued trying to stand.

His burned body screamed in pain, blood like tears streaming from his eyes, yet Oliver was indifferent, focusing only on rising.

Crack──!

Once again, The Burned One’s flaming arm lashed out at Oliver.

This time, it was aimed at his face.

Oliver’s neck twisted violently, and his body was hurled backward, crashing at the feet of the crowd.

“His, his face······!”

People gasped at the sight of Oliver’s face as he lay at their feet.

The skin of his face was torn apart. But it soon became clear that something was off, and they looked more closely.

The torn face wasn’t his real skin. Instead, it was torn from a ‘Fake Face’ or ‘Leather Mask,’ a Dark Magic item.

“······.”

Those looking at Oliver’s true face—different from before—not just Dave, witnessed a new kind of silence.

It was a silence born from confusion, not fear, terror, or despair.

Because.

“What the······ it’s just a kid?”

Seeing Oliver’s youthful face, still not beyond adolescence, a middle-aged man mumbled, his expression complex enough to forget the apocalyptic doom before him.

Though it was a quiet mumble, everyone heard it clearly.

The crowd stirred, seeing the true face of Oliver.

“Haa······.”

With a breath barely noticeable, as if it could stop at any moment, Oliver raised his hand to touch his face.

He could tell from the feel of it that the leather mask had been stripped away. He then discarded the mask and, like a baby, struggled to flip his body as he tried to rise once more.

Shaking limbs and harsh breaths accompanied his efforts.

Everyone saw it. The Burned One saw it too.

Biting down on his lip, The Burned One’s fiery eyes flickered in silent irritation.

He finally shouted as if fed up, his words filling the heads of the crowd.

[I told you not to rise again!]

The thunderous telepathic voice echoed, but as before, Oliver ignored it and stood.

This time, however, The Burned One didn’t strike.

He knew that Oliver, who had gotten up twice, would likely rise for a third time. Instead, he reprimanded him.

[Did I not tell you I hate wasting time·····!]

Bent forward, with his head nearly touching the ground, Oliver balanced himself on one knee with his only arm and responded:

“I have no reason to care.”

[Do you think I can’t kill you, is that why you keep acting this way?]

“Who knows? I haven’t really thought much about that. I’m only focused on the fact that I’m standing.”

[······Why are you doing this?]

Seeing Oliver’s resolve, The Burned One asked, genuinely confused. A demon, one who had long surpassed humans, showed a rare expression of incomprehension as he questioned Oliver’s reason.

[Why are you trying to save them? You can see it clearly, just as I can—they are all sinners.]

Becoming agitated, The Burned One pointed at the surrounding people.

[They cheered and murdered innocent children to shake off their own fear and anxiety. They are criminals. Tell me······. Why are you taking such pain to save them?]

The flames in The Burned One’s eyes flared up.

[Is it hope?! That perhaps, if you try hard enough, they’ll repent, and a new history will begin?!]

The Burned One shook his head.

[I can assure you, it won’t happen. I’m not belittling your noble intentions. Someone has already tried and failed. That man······.]

He trailed off, as though he wasn’t permitted to say more. His fists clenched tightly in frustration, and a sense of sorrow was palpable.

[······I guarantee you one thing. Even if you save these sinners, nothing will change.]

“······.”

[Some may be grateful and try to atone for their sins, but not all of them, and certainly not entire nations. They will continue to invade, exploit, and build sin upon sin! Even more cunningly!!]

“······.”

[After some time passes, today’s events will fade into myth. Some will exploit your name for their selfish desires, tarnishing it in the process.]

“So you’re saying you’ll bring about the end of the world and start over?”

[Yes.]

“And how can you guarantee that the new humans won’t sin again?”

[It doesn’t matter. If they do, I’ll erase them again and start over.]

This was the brutal and merciless answer, the perspective of the apocalypse seen from the vast chasm between a demon and a human.

Taking in that cruel answer, Oliver opened his mouth calmly.

“One day, a shepherd prayed to God. He asked for God to grant him a flock of sheep.”

[······.]

“He swore that by prospering the sheep, he would repay God’s blessings and bring infinite glory to Him.”

[······And one day, the shepherd lost a sheep. A small, scrawny, unimpressive one.]

“God asked the shepherd where the sheep had gone.”

[The shepherd answered that he had lost it. He said that if he spent time looking for it, he risked losing the rest of the flock… And God replied:]

‘Find it anyway.’

Oliver’s words echoed calmly through the air.

Several people quietly shed tears, and even The Burned One lowered his head.

[······These are not mere lost sheep. These are blackened ones, covered in filth.]

“Filth can be washed away.”

[Washing them will be exhausting and dirty work.]

“If there is will, it can be done.”

[Whether they can truly be cleaned is doubtful, and you might be tainted by their filth in the process. You may even end up covered in it entirely······! This is madness!!]

“I agree. I know well, for I’ve been given that very same madness. That’s why I intend to do it.”

[Is this some kind of guilt?]

“I’m simply returning what I received.”

Hearing this, The Burned One raised his head. The faint flicker in his flaming eyes gradually faded as he calmly held his sword up to the sky.

[I understand now the answer to the question I posed to you before.]

That question had been about what to do with the indelible sins of humanity.

And Oliver had answered by shouldering them himself.

[I have just one more question.]

“Ask.”

[If you fail to stop me, no one will remember. They will all die. And you cannot stop me······. Why are you walking this path of thorns, knowing no one will recognize your efforts?]

Clearly bewildered by such monstrous persistence, The Burned One’s voice seemed to echo his honest confusion.

Without hesitation, Oliver glanced at the sinners before him, then pointed at The Burned One.

“You will remember.”

[······.]

The flames in The Burned One’s eyes flickered once again.

But it wasn’t long before those flickering flames settled, and with a grim expression, he steeled himself.

[Very well. I shall destroy you in accordance with your principles, as befitting your resolve, O noble one.]