NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 846
The moment their eyes met, the Polluter had a gut feeling.
‘This is dangerous…!’
Right now, this moment was the most terrible crisis of his life.
The missile that had just created a sinkhole, along with the explosion that followed, was nothing compared to this.
The Polluter pushed himself up with his hand on the ground.
Then, at the same time, he jumped and lifted his foot, which was resting on the ladder, into the air.
Naturally, what awaited at the end of that action was a fall.
Considering his physical condition, falling from a height estimated to be somewhere between the second and third floors would not be negligible, and if luck was against him, he could end up suffering great aftereffects for the rest of his life.
Yet, despite that, the Polluter chose to fall without hesitation.
The ominous aura emanating from that man left him unable to consider a ‘future.’
He believed that falling from the ladder, whether it meant living with aftereffects or surviving as a cripple, was the only way to guarantee a future.
“Monsieur, why do you choose to fall?”
The Polluter’s judgment was correct.
His brilliant intellect derived the optimal result, and his instincts compelled him to act without hesitation, even with his damaged body.
The unfortunate thing was that sometimes, even when one does nothing wrong, a circumstance leads toward ruin.
The fact that he had caught that man’s eye despite his abnormal state of being.
Just that alone made it impossible for him to escape destruction.
“Falling has an unpleasant connotation, doesn’t it?”
“O winged one, how could you lack the strength in your wings and end up falling?”
“Morning Star, how have you fallen from heaven? You who have overthrown nations, how have you been thrust down to the ground?”
“When the pure-white wings fall and break, becoming bloodied, you lose the ability to ascend to the sky, and you are left without the means to return home, becoming an eternal wanderer!”
A voice was heard.
An ominous voice ringing from above.
An ominous voice echoing from behind the Polluter.
And also, a voice coming from below the ladder.
“Gather the wings, stick them together with wax, and fashion them into wings to fly to the heavens. That appearance, a human form with bird wings, evokes the image of a divine messenger, sufficient to lead the masses to mistakenly believe in a being descended from the bloodline of the gods, but how can the sky be a space permitted for humans? Humans, with their arrogance, kill themselves; thus, you, human, shall also meet death for daring to step in the realm of the divine.”
“Ah, Morning Star, you were once promised to ascend to the highest clouds and become like the Most High; you dared in your heart to take a position above the star cluster of the one who is the only true God, and you said you would sit on the mountain.”
“What remains when the swan’s wings are shattered? Does a swan that cannot fly hold any value? O swan that cannot fly, eternal wanderer, exiled from your homeland!”
The voice seemed to mock the falling Polluter.
The ominous man recited elements of Greek and Roman mythology, Christianity, and fairy tales while sneering at the Polluter.
Was it mocking the fall itself?
Or mocking the Polluter who chose to fall?
“Ah, damn it.”
The Polluter instinctively felt it.
He was doomed.
Clenching his teeth, he drew magic power from within his body.
To somehow escape this situation.
Or perhaps, to unleash his magic power in a suicidal explosion.
However, as if to laugh at his thoughts, a touch reached the Polluter’s body.
Though he was still far from touching the ground.
Countless hands extended from behind as he fell, grasping his body.
Below, dark figures began to climb the ladder.
Above, writhing shadows invaded the space.
Did he not think when he was climbing the ladder that it resembled a heavenly ladder?
Behold.
The dark shapes crawling up from below.
So black, they evoke the image of sinners whose forms remain, burned by the hellfire to mere ashes.
How could what climbs up be a heavenly ladder?
Behold.
The shadows pouring down from above.
As night takes shape and descends upon the earth, how could that origin of pouring be heaven?
The kingdom of shadows is not heaven, and a refuge harboring ominous darkness cannot be a sanctuary.
That may become Tartarus, but it could never be a sacred place.
Right now, the Polluter found himself situated between hell and Tartarus.
Bound by countless outstretched hands, he dangled there.
The upper land.
The lower land.
A human bridging across them.
Though the Polluter had not desired it, he was embodying the very essence of ‘Mu(巫).’
“Monsieur, your life has been devoted to the world…. That path was one for the pioneers, a road that one cannot walk without a confidence in what one believes to be right…. Confidence is certainty, and certainty solidifies me…. If I am solid, the world cannot shake me, and thus the one who solidifies me may influence the world….”
If the meaning of ‘Mu’ is a person bridging heaven and earth.
Then who is the subject of that connection?
“Ahhh…. I can only admire and lament. Before me now stands someone who meets all the conditions to ‘influence the world,’ ‘a firmly established self,’ ‘whose body is injured yet whose spirit shines brightly’…. What are the chances of such a being appearing…? It would truly be a blasphemy to say that luck has come to me….”
“But how could luck come about on its own? I know that everything is connected by cause and effect. Just as light creates shadows, so too does inquiry reveal the origins of shadows…. All of this, too, must have been decided by some flow….”
“I understand that flow as well.”
The subject of connection could be the heavens.
The subject of connection could be the earth.
The subject of connection could be the person who unites them.
“That flame.”
“The flame of war that will burn the world.”
“Do you know how much powder and oil lie dormant all over the world? Do you know how many places are ready to ignite the moment a spark flies? Among them, do you know there are spots so perfectly suited that they could become the starting point of everything? From that place, flames are set to spread throughout the world and finally burn everything?”
“Without the power of prophecy, that is easy to guess. Even if I cannot read the signs, I can still know that. The rising flow heads toward war, and it is clear that the nature of selfish people will choose to seize rather than compromise. We must face a future where we violently take from one another, pouring blood in a desperate bid to resolve our unyielding emotions.”
“What variable could have caused this? Has causation been twisted, has someone intervened? Were there distortions in time? Ah, I know it. I know an existence that proves the distortion of time. I know someone whose mere existence proves the distortion of time. But did that person truly do it? Or was it done merely by the existence of that person? Like a large boulder changing the flow of water, was it done?”
“But movement has inertia, and just as water wishes to keep flowing. War desires to erupt and derive a result.”
And also.
The subject of connection could very well be someone else.
And in that case, the meaning of the word ‘Mu’ completely changes.
“Self…. Wizard. One who is tied to this world. You shall now open a new epoch.”
“You will enter a nature created not by the Earth, but by humans.”
“Monsieur, I would truly be delighted if you liked that ‘environment’….”
We know.
Countless rituals that sought to bridge heaven and earth through people.
Countless attempts to use people to connect heaven and earth.
The rituals carried out on altars touching the heavens, burning people to smoke in order to link heaven and earth, those purification rituals where people were burned alive…
We call that human sacrifice.
And now, a scapegoat has been determined.
“Monsieur, the long wait is over…. All preparations are complete. From now on, you will be a scapegoat, a passageway, and a bridge connecting them; this is not an escort by a Valkyrie who comes out to meet a fallen warrior, nor an angel descending to guide the righteous to heaven, nor the devil dragging the wicked to hell; it is because you hold value in and of yourself….”
“Do you know the weight of the soul? Do you know the clarity of the soul? The value of a person is such. If the weight is heavy, it cannot ascend to heaven, and if its clarity grasps the world, it cannot fall into hell. You will be an anchor in and of yourself. Standing there, you will become a boundary connecting heaven and earth. It will become a path that transcends the constraints of space, allowing for at least two beings to easily pass through.”
“Contaminated magical power…. Even that is a blessing. Ah, how convenient the word ‘distortion’ is…. Just as it is hard to easily imagine the original from something spoiled, that distortion will perhaps serve as a brief illusion.”
“Aha. Indeed, everything in the world is a phantom, and simultaneously real. How could it be impossible for something to briefly resemble reality?”
A sorcerer.
Pierre Martin.
His eyes began to gleam with madness.
Having subdued the Polluter and placed him on the altar, he forcibly induced his consciousness into a trance state through the prepared divine object and drugs, and began arranging symbols representing spirit and dreams around his body.
Rustle.
The sound of sparks flew as various plants burned.
Marijuana and opium began to ignite, enveloping the underground space in smoke.
“Hehehe. Collective Unconscious…. Collective Unconscious. You damn, cursed hypocrite Ashtosh Singh.”
“How dare you interfere with the wishes of others, yet think you would remain unscathed?”
“Not only did you turn a blind eye to another’s fervent desires, but you actively hindered them, so you ought to be fully prepared for what will come to you.”
Amidst the thick smoke, Pierre Martin laughed.
“You will accomplish nothing.”
“Your flames will not bestow anything.”
“Your wish will crumble before your eyes.”
“Everything you could research will be ruthlessly destroyed and contaminated.”
He uttered a curse.
“Desires and wishes, they do not combine but instead oppose each other.”
“Behold, Ashtosh Singh. Here one wish is fulfilled while another is thwarted.”
“Two desires, one affirmation, one negation.”
He recited the curse as he lifted a monitor.
Then, looking at the monitor, he spoke.
“O Creation of Man, wanting to understand humans? Wishing to know about humanity?”
“Hehehe…. You may be able to do so. Surely, that will come to pass.”
The monitor in Pierre Martin’s hand ascended toward the altar, and the shadows emanating from him began to blacken both the Polluter and the monitor. Then the shadow swelled more and more, giving shape to a sphere that resembled an egg.
“Your wish has been fulfilled.”