Chapter 323

Before the second destruction, the Hotus Eight Gods felt deep melancholy.

It was different from mere feelings of depression.

Depression is a feeling without substance and is only a trick, but the melancholy that came to them now was something with a clear substance.

Since they had experienced the perish of all humanity twice, and even struggled so hard not to experience perish again, the melancholy was even deeper.

The Hotus Eight Gods could know without looking.

The country they loved, the country they had painstakingly cultivated for 300 years, had disappeared like mere dust again.

“Headkar….”

Cordisias looked at his feet.

There was a tree.

It was bigger than others, but it was still a tree.

This was once Headkar Hella Hotus, and is still Headkar, but he could no longer speak.

He received the undying he wanted, but he would not be able to enjoy it in the way he wanted.

The ‘Last Emperor’ stroked Headkar’s leaves.

A shadow fell over his eyes.

“Why could you only amount to this…. For you all, we established a country, cultivated the land, killed the Ancient Gods….”

He could not bear to finish his sentence and closed his eyes gently.

Fatigue was thick.

His body was robust enough to seem capable of crushing a mountain, but his heart had become too exhausted.

It was hard for him to have expectations.

“…….”

The other Eight Gods were the same.

The Emperor spoke toward his wife.

“Sen Sorti.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“If it were you… you would have anticipated a day like today.”

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.”

Sen Sorti answered.

She used honorifics.

Because she was treating the opponent not as her husband but as the Emperor she served.

“I also anticipated what Your Majesty would ask.”

“What would I ask?”

“How many children survived this time, where they might be, is it not?”

“You are right. How many are left?”

“Just a moment.”

The ‘Last Mage’ waved her hand.

A wooden staff was held in that hand.

She had created various magics over 300 years.

Magic that surveys the whole world at once, magic that gathers them in one place….

Come here. Sen Sorti spread both hands, and the surviving fetuses gathered between them.

She embraced them simultaneously with a very benevolent motion.

Though the number was large, she could count them at once.

“It is 1,335.”

“It is half of the last time.”

Cordisias raised his head.

It was this place again, the Dimashq Plains.

It was so tedious that it was painful.

“…A country….”

It is hard to spit out the words.

“…I must establish the next country. Since there are children….”

He had to make a plan.

It was hard to live on any longer, but he had to live.

Even though he knew this was painful, he could not run away.

The ‘Last Emperor’ felt his fate was cursed.

“Gather the subjects who have become a forest… in this hole, raise those 1,335 children… and a new country….”

The Emperor let out a deep sigh.

“…….”

He looked into the sky for a long time.

The sky is the sky. It is nothing more and nothing less.

Even the ‘Firmament’s Paternal Love’ who professed to be the Sky God lost its life before Cordisias.

Yet Cordisias could not stop glaring at the sky.

“…Until when….”

Even for Cordisias, 300 years was long.

The loss was even greater as he had poured affection into the beautiful country, Hotus.

He remembers.

The first hundred and twenty years of raising 2,770 infants and cultivating the country, the second hundred and twenty years of struggling to conquer the thirteen Ancient Gods, the sixty years of entrusting it to humans while being anxious….

In the end, all of it disappeared vainly like bubbles.

Even while calling himself a god, the sense of powerlessness was so great there was no way.

“…Until when, must we….”

He wanted to cry, but he cannot cry.

The Man-God’s body was too mighty to allow emotional turmoil.

It is a troubling matter.

Life drives him so complexly and painfully, yet he cannot shed a single drop of tear.

His heart might have already rotted away.

“…Until when must I repeat this?”

Lefren felt pity for him.

“Cordisias.”

Looking at the Undying Demon Queen who had not yet disappeared, Cordisias spoke gruffly without realizing it.

“What is it, Lefren?”

“What will you do now?”

“…Did I not say I would establish a country.”

Lefren threw a question once more.

“Then what kind of country?”

“…I came to know this time.”

Cordisias muttered.

“We must rule. Humans cannot be better than us.”

He spoke as if admonishing himself rather than answering Lefren.

“However, God must not be visible.”

He realized the innate weakness of humans.

They need a reason for everything.

And a visible god becomes too easy a reason.

“We will still exist, but we must say we do not exist.”

Cordisias felt his thoughts gradually taking shape.

Right, it was that. That would do.

Existing but as if not existing.

Like parents who step back one step and wait for their child’s growth.

This was indeed the utopia he had been picturing.

“I will establish an empire of humans that denies god.”

“Is that enough?”

“…Since earlier, you are behaving as if you have much interest in us.”

The ‘Last Emperor’ did not hide a slight hostility.

“Do you even have interest in us, Outer Being?”

“Very much so.”

“Because you must watch our misery and enjoy it?”

“I have much interest in you all. Enough to be very sad if you say that.”

“Yet.”

Cordisias’s eyes settled coldly.

Like a blade sharply honed.

“Yet you let us perish twice.”

“It was your choice.”

Lefren did not particularly want to explain her feelings at length.

She had lived too long a time, enough to see stars being created and disappearing several times.

However, she was an existence who did not feel bored by that.

Because she was fundamentally too immense, she did not lay out vain words to the Hotus Eight Gods.

Because she knew her single word could shake them.

“Only, I will prove my interest.”

The three-headed Demon Queen raised a finger.

She pointed somewhere.

Sen Sorti knew that her son, who had remained an infant for 300 years, was in that direction.

“Go back, and look inside Shion’s mouth.”

***

“…A tooth….”

Sen Sorti screamed in joy.

In her arms was her son.

“A tooth has grown, Cordisias…!”

She slightly opened Shion’s (you may call him Zionis) mouth and showed the inside.

One upper front tooth was sprouting, just barely sprouting.

It was proof that Shion, who had not grown at all for 300 years, began to grow.

“In three hundred years! Our son has grown a tooth!”

“I know too, Sen Sorti.”

“Ah, was I too excited…?”

Sen Sorti decided to calm her excitement.

For Cordisias, the loss of Hotus was greater than the joy of his son’s growth.

Sen Sorti was considerate of such a husband, but she couldn’t help feeling disappointed.

Because for her, her son’s growth was greater than the loss of Hotus.

“No. There is no need for that. I am glad too.”

Cordisias tried to smile.

“Only, I have much to think about.”

“I suppose so. What will you do for the next country’s name?”

“There is no need to wish for it to be too perfect. Rather, it will be hard.”

“Then how about just naming it after a name?”

“Whose name?”

“Your name.”

Let’s see.

“Cordis.”

The mage giggled.

“Cordis!”

“…It is self-aggrandizing.”

“An empire should originally have that kind of flavor.”

Then it is decided as Cordis. Sen Sorti put her hand to her mouth and cast magic without even a moment to stop her.

She announced the name of the new empire to the other Eight Gods.

The name of the country they would rule would be Cordis.

“More than that, Sen.”

“Hm?”

“Tell me more about Zionis. I want to hear.”

“……What’s gotten into you?”

Sen Sorti opened her eyes wide.

“You didn’t have much interest usually?”

“I am also a father.”

Cordisias touched his nose.

“I didn’t talk much because I was upset about the situation where I couldn’t do anything for him. I also always thought of that child. Enough to be disappointed if you say I didn’t have much interest….”

The ‘Last Emperor’ felt a sense of déjà vu and raised his head.

He ended up understanding the meaning of Lefren’s words.

Is that so, did you also speak like that because you had such a heart.

“Anyway, tell me about Zionis.”

“You mean Zionis?”

She began to pour out words as if she had been waiting.

Actually, she likes the name Shion better, what toys the child likes, how long he doesn’t wake up once he falls asleep….

“…The growth.”

Cordisias asked.

“That child who has now begun to grow, what do you think will happen to him in the future?”

“As expected, you were curious about that?”

I’ve already calculated everything.

Sen Sorti took out a bundle of papers with complex formulas written on them.

She was a mage, and had a hobby in formulas and calculations.

“This child will grow further. Very slowly. Then… when his physical age becomes about one year old, he will become like others.”

“When would that be?”

“…Mm….”

Sen Sorti could not answer easily.

It was not because she couldn’t find the answer to the calculation.

It was because the answer she found felt too far and frustrating as yet.

Still, she couldn’t say it.

“A thousand years.”

The mage stroked her son’s cheek.

It was white and soft.

“For this child to become like others, it will take exactly a thousand years.”

“Okay.”

Cordisias stood up. He approached the child with careful steps.

This white and soft thing was his son.

Even while being a Man-God, he was infinitely powerless, and so he was beautiful.

“I learned through Hotus.”

The Emperor said.

“Even we cannot be perfect. We… can make wrong choices, and while doing so, will not know that we are wrong.”

“…That is a sad thing.”

“So we need a judge.”

The Emperor held out a finger to Zionis.

Zionis grasped the finger tightly with his small hand and soon laughed.

It was the same as 300 years ago.

“You judge us, Zionis.”

Cordisias ended up smiling.

“When you become like others, look at us with your eyes.”

“…….”

“Whether we were right, or wrong. Whether our country should continue further, or whether a new country must come again….”

The ‘Last Emperor’ felt something hot passing over his cheek.

It was what others call tears.

It was hard to believe.

It had been 300 years since he shed tears.

Yet he was clearly shedding tears.

“You judge, my son.”

Sen Sorti stared at the Emperor.

Surprise was greater than hatred, and complexity was greater than surprise.

She tried to respect her husband’s choice.

However, she could not hold back all the words.

“…He is our child.”

She bit her lip unconsciously.

“It is enough for us to bear the burden. You want to give such a heavy burden to Shion?”

“This child is Zionis, Sen.”

“To me, he is still Shion.”

“He might be both.”

Cordisias was still crying.

Yet unlike a crying person, his pupils were unwavering.

“Because he is our child, Zionis must do it.”

“…What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you say this child was a prisoner from birth? I commanded, and you summoned. We are the two with the greatest responsibility for the destruction. And Zionis is the child of us two.”

“…….”

“A thousand years.”

The Emperor covered his son with a blanket.

“In a thousand years, Zionis will decide.”

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