Chapter 299

Shion walked in on his own two feet.

Into the hole the Great Witch had hidden, the low place leading to the deepest depths, where Shion had obtained the Septem Arcana and emerged from before the regression.

The inside of the hole was strangely bright.

Even without a single speck of light, the interior was discernible.

It was because there was no darkness.

It was strange.

To have no darkness when there is no light. Shion, with his wounded body, walked down as if falling.

***

Everything suddenly receded.

As if being sucked in, as if falling, as if ascending.

Shion was in a vast space before he knew it.

It must be the inside of the hole.

But there is no hole.

There is no outside of the hole either.

There was nothing.

There was no ground. There was no sky.

There was no boundary to stand on, no end.

There was no beginning, no end, no light, and no color.

Because there was nothing, Shion could no longer be Shion.

He began to scatter limply within the bright void.

“…….”

No, there was something.

In the midst of nothingness, there was a single thing.

It was a filthy thing.

It resembled a lump of flesh, squirming and breathing, but it didn’t look alive.

It had eyes, a nose, and a mouth, but it didn’t look human.

It was twisted this way and that, burnt black here and there, dripping blood somewhere, and elsewhere it was furious, veins bulging, trying to scream at the top of its lungs.

That thing had hands too.

There was a lot of blood on its hands.

It seemed to have lived shedding others’ blood terribly.

Even the blood of its kin was smeared on it.

That angry appearance.

That melted appearance.

That miserable and contemptible appearance.

Even looking at it was detestable, and this filthy thing was even branded with the mark of Cordis.

A lion, an eagle, a dragon, and the imperial crown of a human covering them.

The symbol that triggers the deepest hatred.

I couldn’t stand it because I was angry.

What is that filthy thing?

What is it that is so angry, melted, shed so much of others’ blood to become such a miserable and contemptible sight, and even branded with the mark of Cordis?

I became curious.

I approached the filthy thing.

There was a name beneath it.

It was clearly the name of this filthy thing.

[Shion]

***

“…This….”

I ended up speaking.

“…This is me?”

The filthy thing still breathes.

I realized only then that that thing was me.

But I couldn’t accept it at all.

That thing was clearly me, but just the thought that it might be me made my whole world ache as if it were burning up.

“This is me?”

I have already scattered limply.

Even though I disappeared, I was still there in a filthy state.

But the filthy me is also here.

What is going on?

I couldn’t understand, yet it felt natural.

Perhaps because I was inherently such a being.

“This, this… filthy and twisted… disgusting and detestable… pitiable yet not deserving of sympathy, having lived shedding too much blood to be pitied… merely fleeting… is this…….”

A sigh.

“……Shion Pollinglight?”

“Correct.”

The filthy me said.

“I am you.”

That me stared straight at this me.

“I am Zionis. The Cordis of Cordis, the Fifth Prince, of noble blood.”

The filthy thing squirmed and changed its shape.

It became dozens of shapes in an instant, and somehow, not a single one was untwisted.

“I am the son of Continua the Great Emperor, a child who was hurt because he wanted his recognition but couldn’t get it.”

“…No.”

“I am also a young man who fled to the West and dreamed of happiness without knowing his place. I lost everything as the price for daring to dream when I was unqualified.”

“…No.”

“I am a shameless sinner who ran wild claiming to be a regressor and took countless others’ lives again.”

“—No—!!!”

I screamed.

“You are not me! There is no way I am just such a guy!”

I couldn’t stand it and lunged at the filthy thing.

I jumped up and down and tore at the filthy body.

Flesh was torn off easily.

Blood flowed easily.

The stench of blood was overpowering.

“I!”

I tore myself apart.

I let myself be torn apart obediently.

“I! Did not live with such a heart!”

The Regression Prince screamed with all his secrets.

“I didn’t live for myself! There wasn’t a single day I didn’t agonize! For a better, yes, for a better world, I whittled down everything!!! I always lived on the edge of a blade!!!”

“But you took countless others’ lives.”

“…….”

“Is your worry greater than others’ lives?”

“………….”

“Even though you are also just one life?”

It hurt like being stabbed.

The words of the filthy me hacked at me.

So I decided to hack at the filthy me too.

Before I knew it, there was a knife in my hand.

I hacked at myself.

I let myself be hacked by me.

“Shut up.”

I cut off the tongue.

“Shut up.”

This filthy thing had many tongues.

Even as I cut and cut, it poured out words ceaselessly.

Even on some tongues, the symbol of Cordis was embedded.

This damned thing.

This cursed thing. I ceaselessly hacked at myself.

“You have no right to speak. How dare you, dare you…….”

“Correct. I have no right.”

“Shut up—!!!”

“But I am you.”

“…….”

I eventually collapsed.

I collapsed from exhaustion, unable to do anything in front of that hateful symbol of the Empire. It was hateful.

I hated it.

It was detestable.

But that thing was me.

“…You….”

I eventually cried.

“…Why are you me?”

“I am just me.”

“Why have I never not been you?”

“You cannot not be me in the future either.”

The filthy me is still filthy.

Yet it was me.

The crying didn’t stop.

Strangely, many tears flowed.

They were blue, jade, raspberry-colored, and even golden.

I cried profusely in all sorts of colors.

“……Is that so…….”

I said while crying.

“……I…….”

I sobbed, unable to even shamelessly extend a hand.

The filthy me is still staring at me.

“……I seem to be you.”

***

The thing I discarded and discarded but couldn’t discard in the end.

That clotted and smelling thing.

Was the tiny me.

Even if I try to discard it, I absolutely can’t.

I held onto it and cried for a long time.

***

Shion.

***

Shion’s name was Shion.

He wasn’t Shion from the beginning.

He was once Zionis.

***

“You have come to hate your name.”

The master had said earlier.

She is the ‘Last Mage’.

“Then I will give you a new name.”

It was a gift.

“But when the last secret overturns everything, you will come to hate even the new name.”

What kind of eyes did she have?

Was she sad?

Was she happy?

Or was she pitying him?

Did she hate herself for being unable to do anything even knowing the pain her disciple would suffer?

Why did she always look at him like a mother?

“You will die then.”

***

What does this name mean, Master?

***

It’s the name of a distant castle.

High, beautiful, and flawless,

With no wounds, sorrow, or suffering.

***

Sion.

***

“She said it was the name of a distant castle.”

High, beautiful, and flawless.

With no wounds, sorrow, or suffering.

He dreamed of that place.

Everyone wanted to reach such a place.

He ended up yearning.

That distant land, the unreachable utopia.

He lived gritting his teeth following that yearning.

He lived a life too harsh to simply say he lived.

Saying he would reach that distant castle.

Saying he would overthrow the blocking Empire.

Saying he would grind up the Golden Throne to drink, burn his own soul, or turn back time to make everyone reach there.

Saying he would lead everyone there without leaving a single person behind.

And,

In the end,

Standing at the threshold of that castle….

“…The gate was narrow.”

It was a gate one could pass only after laying down the sword and secrets.

It was a place one couldn’t pass with stubbornness and bloodstained hands.

Far from leading others, he couldn’t even pass his own body through.

He tried to lay them down.

He tried to discard them.

But this secret,

The blade he honed to overthrow the Empire clung so largely and hideously.

The life built up with lies had become a monster more monstrous than the Empire before he knew it.

“My secret has become me. I have nothing left but secrets now.”

The Regression Prince had many secrets.

“But all my secrets are nothing but lies. The inside is empty, and now even the outer shell has crumbled.”

He asks.

“Then who am I?”

Shion could no longer be Shion.

But he couldn’t return to Zionis either.

“Who on earth am I, neither Shion nor Zionis?”

Because there was no one to answer.

I cried sorrowfully.

***

“…Before….”

I looked up.

I looked up here where there is no sky or anything.

Even though there is no up.

“I made a promise of the Seven Secrets….”

“Yes. Seven Ars for Seven Secrets. It was that kind of promise.”

The filthy lump said.

That was also me.

“But the last one was a lie. Such a contradiction.”

“I eventually became nothing but that.”

“Did you eventually become nothing but that.”

“I say again, I am you.”

“Correct. You are me.”

I recalled the past.

It is the memory from before the regression when I obtained the Septem Arcana.

“I met… thousand-year-old vengeful spirits here.”

When the Hotus Eight Gods became gods, hundreds of millions of humans who couldn’t become gods were here.

They were trapped here for over a thousand years, rotting and screaming.

“I promised them. That I would overthrow the Empire.”

“That I would uphold them. That I would take responsibility. That I would take it on. Ask for power in return.”

“So I obtained power.”

“The name of the power is Seven Secrets, Septem Arcana.”

I asked myself.

Is the filthy side asking me here?

Or is the me here asking the filthy side?

Indistinguishable, both sides were me.

“You received power. Did you keep the promise?”

“No.”

I answered.

“I lied. It was all lies.”

Seven Secrets.

“I said it was a vain dream. I said I wouldn’t trust. I said I wouldn’t give up. I said I was locking up, said I burned everything, and said I became inhuman.”

I listened to my words.

“However, I was a liar.”

My seventh secret.

“I was still human. I couldn’t burn everything, nor could I lock it up. I ended up giving up. I ended up trusting! And the vain dream… my vain dream of overthrowing the Empire…….”

I closed my eyes gently.

Even though I had no eyelids, it became quiet.

“…I came to dream no more.”

I raised my head.

I saw seven flames.

It’s the Septem Arcana.

The ancient, hundreds of millions of vengeful spirits who made a promise with me.

Those things are still blazing blue.

They look powerful enough to burn the whole world in an instant.

“So….”

Looking at the blue flames, tears came out again.

As I looked at them, they looked at me too. I met the eyes of hundreds of millions of vengeful spirits.

“…Let me go now. Let this miserable person rest.”

“Do you still not know, Pollinglight?”

The filthy me interrupted.

“Dead people have no hands. How can they hold on without hands.”

“…….”

“It was you.”

I declare the truth I was ignoring.

“It was you all along.”

There were seven flames in my hand.

I realized I had never once opened my fist.

“They were just there, and it was you who held on.”

“…….”

I heard wailing.

It was from within my tightly clenched fist.

I finally realized why I had been so painful all along.

Trying to hold hundreds of millions of wails in my own fist, I was bound to melt.

Bound to shatter from the pain.

“…….”

I tried to open my hand.

It wasn’t easy.

I had been clenching my fist for too long.

I was harboring hatred.

I had lived for a long time not even knowing how to open my hand.

I was invariably the shape of hatred.

The filthy me approached.

I couldn’t even extend a hand to that thing, couldn’t shake hands even if I wanted to, but that thing kindly approached me and gave help.

I speak to myself. Whispered softly.

Telling my fist to try this too.

I whispered toward my tightly clenched fist, my old hatred and fate.

“…Please go.”

The fist with bulging veins trembled.

“Please go. I’m sorry for holding onto you. Now….”

I spoke to my Han (sorrow).

“Now….”

I closed my eyes again.

Even though my eyes were already closed.

“…Please stop being in pain.”

The hand opened.

The fist disappeared and an empty palm appeared.

Strangely refreshing.

I suddenly became able to open this hand that I absolutely couldn’t open before.

I felt the things I lived holding onto leaving me.

The seven flames that left my hand, the hundreds of millions of vengeful spirits, the Septem Arcana became a fireball like the sun and were glaring at me.

The Septem Arcana lunged.

That blue resentment, the flame headed toward me.

Is it resentment?

Do they resent me?

It’s understandable.

Didn’t I fail to keep the promise?

If they want to burn me, I decided to burn.

“…….”

I waited to become ashes.

I waited quietly for the familiar horror, the burning pain to come.

But it didn’t come.

Even though I was twisting my body and preparing to scream with all my might.

“………….”

Instead, a gentle breeze blew.

“…Ah…….”

They came as a gentle breeze.

Hundreds of millions of laughter flew as if grazing over my head.

Even though it rushed hugely, it touched me ticklishly.

They laughed at me warmly and gently.

My tears flowed down my cheeks.

Sounds of cheerful laughter.

It was me again.

I was making them into grudges.

Because I held onto them, they were terrible vengeful spirits.

As I let go, they could no longer be grudges.

They stroked me, hugged me, and laughed cheerfully again and again.

And then they flowed away somewhere.

Since they resembled the wind, like the wind.

“…….”

The filthy me asked me.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because tears come.”

“Why did tears come?”

“Because a gentle breeze blew.”

“What is a gentle breeze?”

“It means we reconciled.”

I stare at myself.

“Will you reconcile with me too?”

“It is difficult. But I want to.”

“Then it is done.”

Before I knew it, the filthy me was gone.

The Septem Arcana is gone too.

Only I remained.

“Take it now.”

There was something placed on the floor.

It was made by weaving wood into a round shape.

It was spiky and crude.

But that was the real me.

“The seventh that shouldn’t exist.”

“My fruit is completely finished now.”

“That you couldn’t even dare to hope for.”

“But willingly came to find me.”

I was Shion.

“Your real Ars.”

“My real soul.”

Shion Pollinglight’s Ars, ‘Crown of Paradox’.

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