Chapter 62 : Chapter 62

Chapter 62: “Fate guides the willing, and drags the unwilling.”

It was different from last time.

Nilia thought.

This time, Sagteni I didn't "ask" for his opinion.

Actually, the last time couldn't be considered "asking" either; it was an order.

Nilia had heard orders from Zui many times in his dreams, always with a frankness that disregarded life and death.

An "order" is an instruction, a demand.

It's about authority, about responsibility, and about action.

But Zui often spoke as if it were an established fact, and everyone tacitly agreed that things that didn't conform to the established fact had no reason to exist.

Nilia firmly believed that this was the fundamental reason why his mouth had outrun his brain and he had recited the "Descent" prayer.

It wasn't that he had no choice; he simply had no other thought than to "obey."

Under the control of "Descent," Nilia also experienced Sagteni I's perspective.

He wandered in a boundless, pitch-black space.

The concept of time was lost here.

The only thing that confirmed he was still alive was a white hole beside him, resembling a window.

No matter where he went, that window followed closely by his side, becoming the only source of light in this darkness.

Nilia approached the window to look.

Outside was everything that was happening.

The gradually ruined auditorium, the Death Cult controlled by secret arts, Polika trying his best to protect the students and teachers of Saint Imolai, and "himself."

He could actually see "himself," from a third-person perspective.

Nilia didn't often look in the mirror.

There was nothing much to see: two eyebrows, a pair of eyes, a nose below, and a mouth that spoke nonsense further down.

No one had ever praised his looks, nor had anyone said he was ugly.

Everyone's evaluation of him was incredibly neutral, abandoning appearance-based prejudice and directly striking at his weak, spineless, and unpromising heart.

Even the professors would teach according to his aptitude, knowing he was a freak at the school and that teaching him by experience was useless.

The future of every student at Saint Imolai was traceable, except for Nilia.

It might be better to just let him be and figure things out for himself.

Looking at himself being "descended" outside the white window, Nilia felt a little ashamed.

Nilia knew of Zui's former appearance.

Seeing the exact same expression on his own face, no matter how he looked at it, it felt stifled.

Perhaps it was because the king's ideals were too grand for this body, which had long been accustomed to a life of petty schemes, to contain.

After all, for Nilia, the only thing that could be considered an ideal was, at a stretch, the desire to stay at the school and be a janitor.

Nilia wasn't bragging.

A person like him could live a fulfilling life anywhere.

It was just that he didn't want to go down the mountain, didn't want to go to the small town, didn't want to leave Kohuaishi, and certainly didn't want to leave the Vidalia Kingdom.

The world was too big for him.

He didn't know it, and no one introduced him to it.

His understanding of the world was limited to geography class.

The geography professor would slap the map and say, see these two earthworms?

This was the former two-river basin.

After it dried up, the ground cracked, the earth's crust moved, the plates shifted accordingly, and mountains and valleys gradually took shape.

This place is the Vidalia Kingdom, which in the past was the Sagteni Kingdom—the Sagteni Kingdom before Sagteni I began his conquests.

The classmates were all deeply moved.

They had seen too many scenes that Nilia couldn't even imagine before they enrolled.

Even the "down-and-out noble" Polika could say a few words.

Nilia wasn't too moved.

He just felt that under the professor's palm, the Vidalia Kingdom was only the size of a pizza, and Kohuaishi was an apple.

He himself was a tiny, invisible dot on the apple peel, bitten by an insect.

Looking at Sagteni I outside the white window, Nilia thought to himself.

It was this person who pieced together all the flavors of pizza into the shape he liked.

At that moment, Nilia's heart beat inexplicably faster.

It wasn't the body's instinctive fear of danger, but something deeper—

The survival mode that he had grown accustomed to over sixteen years was about to be forcibly changed, giving rise to a sense of panic.

Nilia's premonition came true.

Sagteni I returned his body and ordered him: Kill all of Hikta's followers.

Sagteni I also said: You should be glad you have talent, Nilia.

Whether it was followed by a threat didn't matter.

At that moment, Nilia felt something very profound descend from the sky, landing precisely on his shoulders, vast, heavy, and unstoppable.

How powerful is the power of recognition?

For the first time, Nilia knew that the subjects that made the professors sigh were actually not that difficult to learn.

He just didn't like them, and because he didn't like them, he gradually couldn't understand them.

Later, he still didn't like them, but he forced himself to read, to memorize, to prove that he was worthy of being chosen, of being affirmed, even if that was not Sagteni I's original intention.

Nilia firmly believed in the greatness of the king, not just because the king was completely different from what was recorded in history.

Because beyond that boring map, Sagteni I had shown him the sky-scorching flames, the surging Nituslaibi River, and a sky so dark it seemed to want to swallow people whole.

And at the end of the river, under the suddenly rising sun, was the vast, distant golden land that belonged to Sagteni I.

Such an ancient kingdom, in just one night, had crossed ten thousand years to appear before Nilia.

Most importantly—

Sagteni I gave him the only way out.

This world was so big, and the king was showing it to him, one by one.

During that time, Nilia also tasted another unfamiliar emotion, called shame.

Denying himself, because he didn't want to face the result of failure even after trying his best.

Denying himself, because he didn't want to see the disappointed expressions of those who affirmed him.

Denying himself... because he didn't want to admit that even someone like him wanted to be successful.

Nilia swallowed all his feelings, carefully wrapping them up.

On a daily basis, he still put on a frustratingly stupid act, leaving himself a way out.

This way, after a futile struggle and failure, he wouldn't be completely disgraced, and could still live a carefree, smiling life.

Unfortunately, he didn't hide it well.

He wanted to change, but hadn't made a firm decision, leaving him in a state of limbo that was like a fishbone in his throat.

Polika could see it, and of course, Sagteni I could see it too.

The king never concealed his likes and dislikes.

Nilia knew he would be abandoned sooner or later.

Standing on the training ground, Nilia desperately hoped to prove himself with a victory.

At that moment, he heard a voice he hadn't heard in a long time.

Fate guides the willing, and drags the unwilling.

Listen.

This is Good Friday.

At first, Nilia didn't realize it was a prayer.

He had never heard such a short and strange prayer.

There was no tone, no inflection, no different from all of Sagteni I's other orders.

When his consciousness appeared again in the space with only the white window, Nilia was sure that his expression must be incredibly stupid.

He was still fantasizing about the cheers he would receive after defeating Polika, which would be the first real step towards his true self.

And now, there was dead silence.

Only the king's voice echoed in the two worlds:

“I am very disappointed in you, Polika Landor. You and Nilia both disappoint me.”

Hearing his own name, Nilia thought blankly: What happened?

But his heart had already given him the answer.

Sagteni I had given him a chance, and he hadn't seized it.

That was all.

***

The unbearable, endless silence lasted for a long time.

The only one who tried to make a sound, Polika, was currently being tortured.

When everyone finally understood the source of the "strangulation" and those who knew what had happened in the auditorium last time instantly turned pale, they let out a shrill cry just like Polika's earlier.

“Run—everyone—run—!!”

The students of Saint Imolai reacted extremely quickly.

While the assessment team was still trying to figure out the cause and effect, a student on the side decisively reached out, grabbed a person, and dragged them out of the training ground.

“Can you fight the headmaster? If not, don't make trouble. Help us find the resident knights! We...”

Halfway through his sentence, the bell rang, much louder than during the previous duel.

The bell awakened a thousand kinds of slumbering restlessness.

The side walls of the circular training ground began to move.

The solid rock made a dull "rumbling" sound as it twisted and deformed.

The students were forced back one after another by the scattered rubble.

They exchanged glances and looked up at the patch of blue sky, which was now limited in size by the raised edges of the training ground.

When someone tried to use a secret art to escape through this only route of survival, another bell rang.

A sharp screech pierced the air from above and entered the training ground, causing people's eardrums to throb with pain.

The edge of the sun blurred, getting closer and closer to Saint Imolai…

Only then did people suddenly realize that what was falling and circling was not the sun, but a scarlet, burning phoenix.

It was secret art number 006, "Refining Flame."

The only way out was also blocked.

No one dared to touch the phoenix that could burn everything to ashes.

Someone had abandoned the prayer and used multiple secret arts in succession, completely sealing off the entire training ground!

Everything happened in an extremely short period of time.

Without leaving any time for thought, the headmaster instructed Lady Blythe and the other professors to try to rescue the students who were hung up by the "strangulation" all around, while he and the person in charge of the assessment team rushed towards Polika.

No matter how serious the previous incidents had been, the person in charge of the assessment team had never shown even a trace of nervousness.

The Secret Art Association had seen all kinds of crises, and he was past the age of fearing strong enemies.

But faced with this almost "hunt-like" encirclement and suppression, his composure and calmness were suddenly shattered.

“Do you know who that is?!” he asked the headmaster rapidly.

Headmaster: “I don't know, but it's definitely not Nilia.”

The headmaster and the person in charge briefly exchanged glances, their eyes filled with their respective feelings.

The headmaster admitted that his decision had been a mistake.

He should have reported Nilia's abnormality to the Secret Art Association when the Death Cult attacked last time, instead of concealing it.

Nilia was innocent, the first time and now, but so were the people present.

The headmaster of Saint Imolai should not have risked the lives of all his students for a moment of soft-heartedness!

The bell rang twice, and Polika's fingers, which were suspended in the air, twitched reflexively twice.

He watched the headmaster run towards him, but was finally stopped by the earth dragon that shot out from under the sand of the training ground.

The mountains of Saint Imolai were rich in mineral elements.

The mud controlled by "Earth's Wrath" had a metallic luster, giving it a texture similar to steel.

At this moment, it was still deforming, twisting, flashing, and making a sound like thunder and a lion's roar!

Both he and Nilia had made the wrong choice.

Polika thought.

Sagteni I hardly moved when he made his move.

His eyes were like a pool of shadowy blood, gazing at the earth-shaking mountains caused by the secret arts.

He stood on his former territory.

Perhaps he had been here before, perhaps not.

But whether the monarch was present or not, the people here should kneel and submit.

“I don't need submission.”

Zui seemed to know Polika's thoughts like the back of his hand.

His gaze moved to a cultist disguised as a student who was hung up by the "strangulation," and the phoenix circling in the sky flew to that person's shoulder.

In less than a second, half of the chosen one's life was burned to ashes by "Refining Flame."

The wind stirred up by the phoenix's wings scattered the ashes, which floated onto the terrified faces of the students.

The flames evaporated the tears of fear.

Polika tore at his throat: “The resident, the resident knights will be here soon… The secret arts you are using will make them misunderstand your identity… associating you with the despicable Death Cult…”

“Polika.”

Zui turned his head to look at him, “Provocation is sometimes useful, but you don't think about the consequences. Perhaps this time I will no longer forgive your recklessness, but will kill everyone you care about. How will you bear that?”

Polika was almost scared out of his wits, his mouth still opening and closing.

Zui's anger was still brewing under the calm water, and he acted like a patient and benevolent monarch, which was all the more terrifying.

“You can't bear it, just as you can't bear the Landor family you envision, and your hypocritical and despicable honor.”

He said, “I once thought you and Nilia would be the humans I was looking for, a dull knife and a stubborn stone. After being polished, a dull knife will shed fine rust. Hikta's flesh and blood is Nilia's final tempering, and you are responsible for pulling him from the god of death's chest.”

Zui's voice was so cold.

“But you are only executing the lies you have personified, and in the end, you have become nothing but a tired fantasy—a fantasy to refute my judgment?”

Polika: “I…”

Zui sneered: “In ten thousand years, not a single human has deciphered the rules of the world.”

A huge gust of wind came from the sky, and the sun over the training ground was shrouded in shadow.

Zui heard the crisp sound of armor moving, coming from the sky, and also from all directions of the training ground, outside the erected stone prison.

The phoenix's cry became sharper and sharper.

The bodies wrapped in armor were twice the size of a normal person, but they were still not enough to cover the sky and the sun—unless their number was as large as an ant nest swarming out.

In the firelight, black knights descended from the sky following the secret artist's secret art guidance.

They fell heavily onto the sandy ground.

The earth trembled, making a booming sound identical to "Earth's Wrath."

The knights slowly straightened up.

The half-face of the black iron helmet reflected the flames, and the other half was the grimace of the students who were about to cry with joy.

This commotion was too big this time, and the resident knights had arrived.

Zui said indifferently: “Do you know, Polika, the soldiers of Imolai once looked at me with those same eyes.”

Polika didn't know…

Nilia had wanted to tell him, using an absurd and unrestrained expression to describe the dream he saw.

But that day, the Death Cult happened to attack, and later they never talked about these things again…

Since the real Sagteni I appeared, Nilia had never talked to him about these things again.

***

Nilia knew.

Nilia, imprisoned behind the white window, had a splitting headache.

This time, it was not as comfortable as "Descent."

He felt a sharp pain in his limbs as if they were being torn apart.

It was not the pain of using an oversized secret art.

This chaos seemed to come from the depths of his soul.

It was difficult for him to think.

Every word Zui said seemed to echo directly in his skull, making it difficult for him to distinguish between his own thoughts and the bloody ones poured in by the king.

Nilia lay by the white window.

He couldn't face so many pairs of eyes, Polika's, the headmaster's, and the students' who looked at him in terror.

Because he was the one who had put them in danger.

Now that the knights had arrived, the situation would not get better.

They might be the sharp weapons created by humans to deal with the Death Cult, but they still didn't know the extent of Sagteni I's abilities.

The reason Sagteni I's wars could still be called wars was only because the king believed it was a game for humans, and he was willing to give it equal respect.

The king actually didn't need to play around with those kingdoms at all.

He alone was enough to break through the entire continent!

Nilia also couldn't face Sagteni I's eyes.

The king's relentless pursuit of Hikta was not a personal grudge.

Ten thousand years ago, no one understood Sagteni I's actions.

They were willing to follow, but they also stopped at a certain point.

Ten thousand years later, no one still understood Sagteni I.

The king had chosen his followers, hoping they would carry out human affairs in human bodies.

Of course Sagteni I would be disappointed and angry.

What he had chosen were two good-for-nothings, and in tens of thousands of years, no genius comparable to him had been born.

People had distorted history, treating the gods as objects not to be wary of, but to worship and pray to.

Nilia even felt that offering this body to Sagteni I might be the only right thing he could do.

But Nilia also saw those things that Zui didn't care about…

His headmaster, classmates, Polika… and Saint Imolai.

The headmaster was a good headmaster.

Even though he would ask him why he hadn't been expelled yet and had given him a beating and a demerit, the headmaster had never passed on any of the pressure from the Secret Art Association to the students.

The classmates were good classmates.

Even though they often spoke with a noble's sharp tone that they didn't notice, and were sarcastic, they still remained tight-lipped about the resident knights' investigation, preferring to say they had been playing dead the whole time rather than revealing anything wrong with Nilia.

Polika was a good brother.

Polika Landor was the best brother in the world.

Saint Imolai…

Saint Imolai was actually such a good place.

The cafeteria chef would watch him sneak food, and when he was going down the mountain, he would foolishly say that he looked like a promising talent.

Lady Blythe would scold him for being useless and tell him not to say he was a student of Saint Imolai when he was out, and would hang him in the infirmary for a few hours, but she would never let him be in any real danger.

The history professor was driven to exasperation by him, but still gave him an A.

At Saint Imolai's annual Midsummer Night Festival, even people like Nilia would receive invitations from girls.

Usually, it was an older female or male student.

Only kind-hearted seniors would let him have some sense of presence on the dance floor.

Nilia didn't know the noble dance steps.

He was just spun around.

He was spun around when dancing with the older male students, and he was still spun around when dancing with the older female students.

He got dizzy, and Polika came to get him, throwing him under the laurel tree that Nilia had personally cleaned—cleaning this tree could actually get him 0.03 academic credits.

Polika was soon called away by a younger female student, leaving Nilia lying on the lawn.

He looked at the slanted light of the stars that could only be seen at Saint Imolai, and at that moment, he said to himself, why don't you just stay here and be a janitor.

This academy, located on the mountain, which made him feel out of place, had actually never vented any malice.

It was just that his mind was full of earthworms, pizza, and feelings of worthlessness, cowardice, and shame.

Not to mention Sagteni I, Nilia also despised himself like this.

Sagteni I's great cause would not care about anything that stood in its way.

He always looked at the distant future that the era could not reach, so grand that it didn't need to consider every tiny life in the context of that era.

Compared to the King of All Kings and the gods, all life was insignificant.

But Nilia cared.

He cared very much about the headmaster, teachers, classmates, Polika, and Saint Imolai.

Nilia suddenly completely understood the secret arts created by Sagteni I, those prayers.

The power plundered from the hands of the gods, yet the prayers were never related to the gods.

The center of the world cannot hold.

Things fall apart in anarchy, pure chaos spins upon the world.

That dreadful hour is at hand.

Something has awakened from the edge of the world.

—This was a warning.

A warning of the threat humanity was about to face.

Fate guides the willing, and drags the unwilling.

Listen.

This is Good Friday.

—This was a piece of advice.

Advice... for everything.

Nilia felt as if he was being pierced by sharp thorns all over his body, piercing through the things he had hidden, and that small heart of his was also trembling.

Outside the white window, Polika was still struggling desperately.

"Strangulation" held his neck tightly, but he was like a crazed dog, trying to stop this impending one-sided massacre even if his neck was about to break.

The promising secret artist really only remembered what he had said to the tyrant in the beginning.

There are no more weapons in your hands.

But humans still have nails, and teeth.

So he scratched with his nails, bit with his teeth, and used all the primitive and savage behaviors unrelated to secret arts to resist.

—Polika Landor was still resisting.

But he couldn't stop it.

No one could stop Sagteni I.

The knights could cut off the head of the high priest of the Death Cult in a sea of corpses, but they couldn't even get close to the master of the secret arts.

Snow fell from the sky.

Nilia had seen this secret art in his dreams.

In the bronze doors of the deep ravine temporary palace, these fine snows were reflected with unparalleled clarity.

But in the daylight surrounded by the phoenix, no one noticed the untimely fluttering snowflakes.

Nilia also knew the effect of the secret art.

The fine snow turned into light clusters, which represented a warm death, a more merciful and final tolerance from Sagteni I.

Polika's bloodshot eyes looked over.

He was looking at Zui, but Nilia knew he was actually staring at himself.

Because Polika's eyes were filled with an unreasoning, all-or-nothing determination.

The king was letting them watch, so Nilia must also be watching everything—

Then Nilia would definitely do something.

No matter what, whether you're going to scratch with your nails or bite with your teeth, do something.

Are you going to watch Saint Imolai disappear on "Good Friday"?!

Are you really such a good-for-nothing dog, only wanting to hide your shame of not wanting to be pitied and cry secretly in a corner?!

These were like Polika's accusations, and they also came from Nilia's own heart.

The scarlet color, so similar to Sagteni I's, gathered in Nilia's eyes, forming a hurricane that swept away the dirty cowardice.

He pressed himself against the white window and slowly got up.

No one could see that in the imprisoned black world, there was another person struggling.

Just as no one could see that in the countless lonely, dark nights of ten thousand years ago, Sagteni I watched the earth and sky from a high place.

What were they thinking?

Nilia could not fathom the monarch's grand strategy, but his own answer had long been written in the secret arts.

“Fate guides the willing, and drags the unwilling.”

He said in a toneless, inflectionless, and emotionless whisper, no different from all of Sagteni I's other orders—

“Listen.

This is Good Friday!”

***

The sudden snow froze in mid-air.

The phoenix "Refining Flame" let out a sharp, wailing cry, streaking across the sky, and finally turning into blue smoke.

Like a stone thrown into a lake, ripples spread out from the center.

"Earth's Wrath" mottled and shattered, and the black mist flowing under everyone's feet dissipated.

The knight, whose armor had been completely corroded, ignored the viscous, paint-like blood on his eyelids and stared fixedly at the expressionless teenager.

All the screams, wails, and curses disappeared, as if the world had been forcibly muted at that moment.

Zui and Polika looked at each other, and in those eyes that burst with fierce flames, he confirmed a certain qualification.

At the same time, Nilia, who was trying to reclaim his body with "Good Friday," also confirmed a certain qualification.

Zui made no move, and no one else dared to act rashly, until his skin began to flake off, blood gushed from his body, and his body also began to make a crisp sound, his joints being crushed inch by inch by some great pressure.

Polika's eyes widened.

He had seen this scene before... he knew what was happening!

He and Nilia had always thought that the only restriction on Sagteni I using secret arts himself was whether he could get out of the amber.

But they didn't know enough about secret arts.

They didn't know that there were actually secret arts that could be cast with only consciousness.

Sagteni I didn't have to pay a price for using any secret arts, but Nilia did…

He had never learned how to take over someone else's body, but his learning ability was too terrifying.

He actually dared to try it after seeing it only once!!

Countless thoughts raced through Polika's brain, which was on the verge of suffocation.

He simply stopped thinking and, with a force that could have snapped his neck, suddenly turned his head and let out the loudest roar of his life—

“Lady Blythe—! Lady Blythe—stabilize Nilia's body! He's using a secret art he can't use—!”

The severe pain in his vocal cords was the least of his worries.

Polika just kept roaring, and his voice became even more urgent when he saw Lady Blythe push aside the knights and stagger over.

He howled hoarsely, his voice echoing throughout the training ground, piercing everyone's eardrums.

“Hold him steady! Hold Nilia steady! He's still struggling—he can't take it—! He can't die! He absolutely can't die—!!!”

***

The white window turned into a silver rain that drizzled on Nilia's shoulders.

He saw Sagteni I in the depths of the darkness.

The monarch was no different from in the dream.

His long, loose hair was darker than the entire space.

Only his scarlet eyes shone, like an abyss that could drown a person.

This was the first time Nilia had seen the monarch's true appearance in person.

His age was forever frozen at a certain moment, then he was sealed in amber, waiting quietly in a world of only black curtains and white windows.

But that arrogant look that despised everything was the same as before.

Even after tens of thousands of years, the sun rose and the moon set, the stars flowed and the earth moved.

The sky-scorching flames were still burning, and the surging Nituslaibi River was still flowing endlessly.

At sunrise, Sagteni I personally lit up his golden land.

Nilia could see the whole world in him.

The pale teenager looked straight ahead, his clear eyes unflinching.

Neither of them spoke.

Behind Zui, a white halo appeared.

The halo outlined Zui's silhouette, actually giving him an absurdly gentle look.

Zui gave up the exit of his consciousness.

At the moment of the exchange of consciousness, Nilia and Zui brushed past each other.

“Secret art number 005, 'Good Friday'.”

Zui's voice was still cold, “You learn fast.”

Nilia froze on the spot.

Zui: “At least you didn't mess up this time. Go back, Nilia.”

Nilia's tears suddenly fell.

He sniffled, bit his lip, and ran towards the bright future.

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