Chapter 474

God existed everywhere.

In the single cloud drifting across the sky, in the smile of an old man, in the ant crushed beneath a boot, in the anguished cries of someone shouting, even in the blood-soaked chaos of war.

God was everywhere, yet that alone wasn’t enough to guide the world rightly. To push a single cloud across the sky, God had to become the wind. To embody the old man’s smile, God had to become the smile of a child. To be the dying ant, God had to become the very footsteps that crushed it.

Though your existence is what gives me meaning, the more God tried to become everything in the world, the more God lost itself.

So God decided not to be everything, but rather to become the small parts that could harmonize all things.

Unknowingly existing, living with will—that was you. The good and evil you carried intertwined naturally, flowing in harmony, and thus made the world right.

The existence of Ian, the emperor’s illegitimate son, was no different.

“Ian Verosion.”

The child whispered as he embraced Ian Verosion. His breath was warm and gentle, and the emperor almost shed tears without realizing it.

“If you call me God, then I shall be God. If you call me just a small child from the outskirts, then I shall be that child. What matters is that no matter what I am, your existence is meaningful and undeniable. That will never change. You are the emperor of Bariel, who carries my will.”

Ian had thought himself destined to be erased from history. Though he had ascended the throne, he believed he would leave no trace and fade away. Yet now, standing on this world supported by the voice of God, he felt it had grown solid beneath his feet.

A single tear slipped down Ian’s cheek as he asked quietly, “If my existence truly has meaning, then whatever decisions I make, whatever actions I take, will they benefit Bariel? Within the bounds of what you deem right under God’s will?”

“Of course.”

“Then, what is right?”

“That which is natural.”

“…If it seems like everything will collapse, may I blame you and lay down my burden?”

“Blame me, but never lose hope.”

The child tapped Ian Verosion’s cheek lightly—a look of a parent gazing at their child. Where had Ian seen that before? Ah, it was the same love Philia had shown him.

Ian reverently clasped the back of the child’s hand and pressed his lips to the palm. The child’s form was growing faint. God was about to leave him. Ian hurriedly asked,

“I’ve heard that Rutherford calls himself one who harmonizes with God. Is he also your will?”

The child smiled, one eyebrow raised—a look both troubled and amused. Ian stared steadily, wanting to grasp the meaning fully.

“No. Not my will, but it is natural.”

“I cannot understand.”

“Just as you have shadows, so do I. Shadows that cannot harm me, but always linger at my feet. Pitiful and foolish things that mistake themselves for what I am.”

Ian suddenly recalled Arsen during the magic power test—the demon’s shadow completely erased by the light of the oracle. Shadows usually remain in the dark, but before the sacred light, they lose all form.

“Though natural, contradictions that are not right—I acted as Ian the illegitimate son, and in that process, I heard Naum’s prayer. That is why we have met like this.”

The child, now almost transparent, pulled Ian into an embrace and whispered,

“Even if the contract with Rutherford weighs heavily on you, do not worry. Your body has died many times in the abyss, but your soul remains that of a noble emperor.”

Was it all just an illusion?

The abyss was a place where the concepts of space, body, soul, and death blurred beyond comprehension.

If the body bound by the contract with Rutherford has died and vanished, then Ian no longer needs to be shackled by that constraint. What exactly the contract between Ian and Rutherford entailed, Ian did not know.

‘But that no longer matters.’

The birth of Idgal, the binding of Ian the illegitimate son—all were God’s will. And that will had finally reached Ian Verosion. That was what mattered.

Besides, if he ever faced Rutherford again, he could find out directly—and that would not be difficult for Ian Verosion.

Whoosh.

The child vanished in a blaze of pure light. Following the faint sparkling trail, Ian turned his head to see a very familiar scene unfolding nearby.

“Ian, please, please pull yourself together.”

It was the day Ian had gained life through Naum’s death. The underground prison of that day. Naum scraped rusty chains until they bled, shaking what seemed to be Ian Verosion.

“I’m here, but what are you holding onto? Please, gather your strength. We must go to the magic department’s annex. God never gives us problems without answers,” the voice echoed, indistinguishable from memory.

Ian approached slowly and looked at Naum. Despite Ian’s presence, Naum did not notice him at all, as if trapped in the moment of death.

‘Ah.’

Ian met Naum’s eyes and had no choice but to step back. There was no trace of resentment in those eyes, only despair. Had he been too exhausted and broken to see that back then?

Behind Naum’s faint smile, Crony burst in.

“Ah! Naum!”

“Be careful,” Ian shouted, reaching out desperately. Though he had seen this death before, he wanted to save Naum at least once. Naum finally sensed Ian’s presence and looked up in shock.

Their eyes met. Across time and dimensions, they recognized each other.

But just as the waves never cease, the flames consuming Naum did not stop. His hands burned, and he collapsed forward, screaming in pain.

“Naum!”

“Ahhhhh!”

“I will save you here. You will no longer suffer in eternal death. I will save you.” Ian lunged forward, but Naum stopped screaming and looked up at him.

“…I am relieved to see you whole, Your Majesty.”

He was grateful that his prayer had been answered, amazed to meet Ian in reality rather than a vision. Above all, he was comforted that his sacrifice had not been in vain.

Ian stopped short, unable to reach out.

God said that what is natural is right. Naum’s presence here, despite using forbidden magic, was natural and therefore right. Moreover, Ian’s choice was said to be God’s will.

Yet why did a stone settle in the corner of his heart? Was it the gypsy’s warning that bringing Naum out was like pulling the abyss into Gaia?

If the abyss spills out, what will become of Bariel?

“Your Majesty.”

Naum could not bring himself to take Ian’s hand. Crawling forward, he lay beneath him. Flames surged around him, cutting his flesh, blood flowing freely. Though in pain, Naum endured calmly as if accustomed, and said,

“Protect the name Ian Verosion. Our time stopped here, so history has stopped too. Because it was never written, it cannot be erased. Your Majesty, protect it.”

Ian knelt and placed his hand over Naum’s. It was not hot at all. The punishment burning in his place was a penalty granted only to Naum.

“…Time will pass, and you will be reborn. Then I will meet you again, and I will not fail. I will uphold the loyalty of all who followed me. I swear it—I swear it with all I have.”

“Yes. Even if I am not who I am now, that one will still be Naum, and your Majesty’s friend.”

“No, it will be you.”

If I return and lead the world rightly as God wishes, our day will come again. Your existence will be undeniable, and you will surely escape this place. I believe that. So you must believe too.

Ian Verosion spoke firmly, and Naum smiled brightly.

“Your Majesty, you have grown stronger.”

“Thanks to you, I have continued to live.”

“I see. Ah, I am relieved. I can accept whatever death comes next.”

Whoosh.

Naum, too, vanished like a child. One death ended, and the process of returning for the next began. Holding Ian’s hand tightly, Naum said farewell.

“Then, I will be waiting.”

“Good.”

“…Please take care.”

Ian wanted to say, “Don’t hurt too much,” but swallowed the words. He knew it was impossible.

Naum turned to ash and sank beneath the abyssal sea. He would wander and wander, repeating that day.

Ian clenched his now cold palm tightly.

He would escape this place at once, cut down everything that shook Bariel’s history, and walk the righteous path God desired. Thus, he would open a new era for the time when Ian Verosion and Naum Obia lived.

Swish.

Each time Ian swam upward, his appearance changed. His long platinum hair turned radiant gold, his sky-blue eyes freshened to green.

From emperor to the small child of the borderlands.

“Oh my!”

The gypsy, who had come down wondering what was happening, spotted Ian approaching and hurriedly stepped back.

But perhaps as punishment for eavesdropping on the conversation between the god and the emperor, her belly swelled so much it looked ready to burst, the unsightly shape clearly visible even beneath the loose cloth. Her body was heavy, making it difficult for the gypsy to pick up speed, struggling against the current.

“Your habits are worse than I thought. Stealing what you’ve never paid for.”

“Ah, well—”

“Was it tasty?”

Ian grabbed the gypsy’s shoulder, pulling her close, and she just smiled, her gills fluttering. It was a look that said, What’s the point in explaining? Heh.

“We’re getting out of here.”

Ziiiiiing! Ziiing!

Ian activated his magic and seized the nape of the gypsy’s neck.

This place wasn’t Gaia, but the Abyssal Sea. Even if the gypsy’s belly were to be torn open, there was no fear of chaos spreading to the world above. Everything down here would simply be swallowed.

“Whether we escape together or sink together, the choice is yours. Isn’t it only right to pay for what you’ve taken?”

“…I can only guide the way. Getting out is entirely up to you.”

“Fine. But before that, there’s something I want to know.”

The gypsy caught the gleam in Ian’s golden eyes and was reminded of the jewel the god had given him—the eyes of a beast, possessed only by predators.

“Just as you found me, can you find the others who fell here with me? Rutherford. And his crew.”

If Ian could escape, so could they. Especially Rutherford, who was the second to enter the Abyss. With one experience under his belt, he might have already succeeded in escaping.

The gypsy sighed and nodded. Then, as if to tell Ian to hold on tight, she kicked her legs powerfully and swam forward. Her speed was a bit slow, weighed down by her swollen belly, but she pressed on nonetheless.