Chapter 762: Oliver

“I’m sorry.”

Oliver spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

He spoke, with tears in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry.”

He apologized to Unbent Knee.

“…!”

At that, this momentarily brought back a sliver of sanity to the madness-ridden Unbent Knee, weakening his grip on Oliver’s neck.

But only momentarily. The madness took hold of him again, and he resumed strangling Oliver.

Could he really stop now? Could he truly stop just because this boy shed some tears?

Was his hate so weak that it could be quelled by these tears?

After all, he had lost his entire tribe, all like family to him, and on top of that, choked his only surviving younger sibling to death.

And now, was it really okay to stop the hatred so easily? Wasn’t it laughable? Sad?

The deaths of his tribe and sibling.

“Aaaaargh…!!”

Unbent Knee screamed, as if trying to rekindle his hatred, squeezing out more rage to defend the worth of his lost ones.

Neither gods nor devils, no matter how great or noble, could ever be forgiven.

Because all he had left was hatred.

His hatred for this world that took everything from him, leaving him with only pain. Without it, there was nothing left.

Wasn’t it sad? His own sibling, his people, those who only ever received torment—they were disappearing as if they never existed. That was unbearably sad.

He needed to leave something of them behind. Proof that they lived. That they suffered. He had to leave something behind in this world.

Crunch…

With this singular motivation, Unbent Knee tightened his grip on Oliver’s neck once more.

With broken fingers digging into Oliver’s throat, he choked him further.

If he couldn’t burn the world the way his people had burned, at the very least, he could kill their god. Make him taste even a fraction of the despair they had felt.

As Unbent Knee continued to strangle Oliver,

“I’m sorry.”

Oliver, offering no resistance, looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and apologized.

“Shut up…”

“I’m sorry I never asked you properly why you did what you did when we first met.”

“I said shut up…”

“Back then, I only ever thought of myself. All I cared about was the questions in my heart.”

“Can’t you hear me? I said shut up!”

“That’s why I never considered anything beyond that. I didn’t understand the desperation that led you all to summon a devil by burning yourselves. It was my selfishness that-”

“-Shut up!!”

Unbent Knee leaned on his one good knee and tightened his grip around Oliver’s neck. Still, Oliver continued speaking.

“When we met again, it was the same.”

Unbent Knee looked at Oliver, almost as if he himself were being strangled by panic, trying to figure out how Oliver kept talking. What trick was he up to?

“Even when I saw you, completely broken by sorrow and loss, I still only thought of unloading my own burdens on you. Despite knowing what you had been through.”

And yet, there was no trick. The feeling of his fingers digging into Oliver’s neck, the way his face was turning purple—it all confirmed he was strangling the man properly.

“I ignored your pain for my own peace of mind. I dumped my burdens on you…”

And still, Oliver spoke. The reason why?

“…I’m truly sorry.”

“Shut up!”

Unbent Knee released Oliver’s neck and struck him across the face.

Hitting him with broken fingers hurt him more than it hurt Oliver, but he didn’t care. He wanted it to hurt. His chest was already in so much pain that he wished physical pain could drown it out.

But the pain from his body was fleeting, and the agony in his soul came rushing back, torturing him again.

To banish it, Unbent Knee punched Oliver in the face again.

“Die! If you’re really sorry, then die! Why do only I have to suffer? Why just us?! Why didn’t you intervene sooner, faster!? Why didn’t you stop me from killing my brother?! Why did I kill him?! If you’re sorry, then shut up and die!!”

In maddened fury, Unbent Knee kept beating Oliver’s face, then grabbed a nearby rock and raised it high above his head.

The others nearby moved as if to intervene, but Oliver, still silent, raised a hand to stop them.

“…”

In this moment of silence, Oliver said nothing more, remaining completely still.

Unbent Knee was about to bring the rock crashing down.

Hesitation.

He couldn’t do it.

Facing Oliver’s tear-filled eyes, Unbent Knee found himself unable to strike.

Even though he clenched his teeth hard enough that his lips bled, even though his arms trembled, he couldn’t bring the rock down.

And then, Oliver quietly closed his eyes.

Seeing that, Unbent Knee’s strength left him, and the rock fell from his raised hands.

Thud.

The rock he had raised dropped powerlessly to the ground, and Unbent Knee slowly stepped back and away from Oliver.

The bloodshot eyes that had been filled with hatred slowly lost their focus, and he silently scanned the surroundings.

In what had seemed like the prelude to the world’s end, as the devil was descending, it had become a miracle, saving countless people.

Red Ones, their bodies stained in patches, simply stood there, their hollow eyes observing it all. Then one collapsed, lying still on the ground.

Oliver stood up, walking towards Unbent Knee again.

“Unbent Knee.”

Unbent Knee did not respond.

“I will remember you. I will remember your people and your brother.”

Unbent Knee remained silent. His body began to turn white, like ashes.

“And I will save them all. No matter how long it takes… I will save them all. So, please…”

Unbent Knee did not respond. His ash-covered body began crumbling away.

His body, which had born the devil inside it, had finally reached its limit.

“So, please… Please confess your sins to me.”

Oliver held onto Unbent Knee’s hand and pleaded in tears.

Unbent Knee, as before, gave no response.

-Tap.

Breaking the silence, Unbent Knee brushed Oliver’s hand away and spoke.

“I refuse…”

His voice was low, barely a murmur.

But in that voice, Oliver sensed a sadness and emptiness, almost as if they were his own.

“I will not repent.”

“…Unbent Knee.”

“The only thing I knew how to do was to fight and hate.”

“…”

“I lived my life ignoring my brother, forcing him aside for that hatred.”

The last leg of Unbent Knee fell away, turning into white ash.

“For that hatred, I strangled the only brother I had left with these two hands. Because hate was all I had. Or rather, it was all I thought I had.”

His body, starting with the collapsed leg, continued turning to ash.

“But in the end, I even failed at that. Because of you, I couldn’t even hate properly.”

“You stopped your sins. You can still change…”

Oliver tried to grasp Unbent Knee’s hand again.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Unbent Knee brushed his hand away once more.

“I couldn’t even accomplish hatred—the one thing I could do. Even after pushing away and killing my only brother, I failed… So don’t try and take this failure or these sins away from me.”

Unbent Knee’s burned-out face showed a faint emotion.

It was hate. Directed inward, towards himself.

“Taking this failure and these sins with me is the punishment I’ve given to myself.”

Unbent Knee pronounced his own sentence. As he prepared to meet the end in pain, Oliver grabbed his hand again.

Unbent Knee tried to pull his hand back, but Oliver firmly grabbed it with his other hand.

“…Very well. I won’t ask you to confess. I won’t ask you to repent. If this is your choice… But at least, let me stay and hold your hand.”

Oliver’s only request was to continue holding his hand. Unbent Knee tried to say something, but he swallowed his words and closed his eyes.

Whether from exhaustion or another reason, Unbent Knee shed tears as he crumbled to ash in Oliver’s grasp.

All that remained in Oliver’s hands was a handful of dust.

Oliver looked silently at the ashes, then clasped them in his hands and prayed.

“Heavenly Father, today a forsaken child returns to your embrace. This child has departed, carrying unforgivable sins and bearing them unto your side… Please, save him.”

Oliver lifted his head towards the sky with a look that was simultaneously filled with resolve and quiet anger.

“I will shoulder his sins. So… Please save him.”

Oliver prayed with clasped hands. After a moment of silence, he opened his eyes, stood up, and looked around.

The people Unbent Knee had seen stood there.

“…”

Oliver’s gaze settled on them, and they stood rooted in place.

Step.

Oliver walked towards them.

None dared speak, none dared kneel.

Step.

Time seemed to stand still, leaving only this moment.

Step.

Amidst it all, Oliver spoke.

“A man died just now.”

The man listened.

“He was consumed by hatred, claiming himself as the Prince of Hell, trying to bring about the world’s end.”

The woman listened.

“Before that, he learned dark magic, terrorized cities, and attacked people.”

The old man listened.

“In his attempt to break the unjust discrimination he faced, to protect his rights and dignity, he overstepped boundaries. He lost everything and crossed the line.”

The child listened.

“But in the end, he stopped himself. And died, holding his sins close.”

Everyone listened.

“…I will not say any more. What you’ve seen, heard, and experienced is for you to consider. Why he harbored so much hatred, why things turned out this way, what was wrong, and how to make things better from here.”

A heavy, invisible force weighed down on the shoulders of everyone.

Though they may call it different things—conscience, responsibility, ethics, duty—there was no misunderstanding the weight of it.

It weighed down so heavily one might have wanted to fall to their knees and grovel.

In that overwhelming silence, one boy gathered the courage to step forward and approach Oliver.

It was Prince Albert, the sole surviving prince of the United Kingdom. His voice shook as he asked.

“…Can we do it?”

Oliver knelt on one knee before the boy and smiled.

Then he looked at the others—Joanna, Marie, Jane, Joe, Edith, Wallace, Philip, Terence, and everyone else—and said.

“I will help you.”