NOVEL NEXT Chapter 29
I trailed behind Gwangcheol-i, detaching all the dysfunctional limbs as I followed.
It wasn’t out of spite.
Precisely speaking, I did cut off the wings in a fit of anger because they were too noisy.
But not the arms and legs.
I was certainly planning to give him a good scolding.
But if it had been just about that, I would’ve covered his mouth; I wouldn’t have been cutting off random limbs.
Gwangcheol-i turning countless humans into Lake Stars also didn’t bother me much.
Humans kill each other anyway.
If there had been prayers involved, it might’ve been different, but holding Gwangcheol-i accountable for killing humans who hadn’t prayed felt outside my concern.
Mna said that things like war should be left to run their course freely.
I don’t know if this is right, but since Mna, the chief among Sajejangs, says it’s so, it’s probably correct.
As absurd as it may sound…
I mean…
I thought I was doing him a favor by cutting them off.
I’m not saying he isn’t a bad guy who deserves punishment, but honestly, at this point, I just want to throw everything away and lie down.
So, Gwangcheol, stop looking so down.
Tap tap tap.
Our eyes met—his enormous ones locking with mine.
Behind that house-sized head, I finally started recognizing a somewhat familiar shape.
That’s right.
This is more like Gwangcheol.
Until just now, his limbs were grotesquely elongated…
It reminded me of what a T-Rex might look like if its front and back legs were the same size.
Since it was so bizarre, it made sense that I viewed those limbs as the source of all evil.
So, yeah.
That’s why I chopped them all off.
For some reason, after losing all his limbs, Gwangcheol collapsed like a squid drying up on land.
Still, I figured he wouldn’t be dangerous enough at this point.
Anyway, now that he’s back to a normal body shape, I expected the loudest noise source around here—Gwangcheol—to calm down soon.
“Still… still…”
But no.
The kid isn’t calming down.
Why is he shouting instead of sending telepathic thoughts?
Is my education incomplete?
I glared sternly at Gwangcheol.
Even after repeatedly signaling him to communicate silently via telepathy, all he did was shed tears.
Weird.
His steam-like tears don’t seem fake.
He genuinely looks aggrieved.
This creature understands telepathy, so why can’t he send any?
Come on.
Not like Kan Hana or anything.
If someone doesn’t understand telepathy, how could they possibly send it?
Considering his mountainous size, it’s strange how combining him with another makes barely one Tonton snake.
But you know…
You.
“Still… It wasn’t over yet…!!”
Why are you so heartbroken?
Gwangcheol kids are usually a bit melancholic, but this is excessive.
Now that I think about it, he hasn’t tried running away since earlier. He’s just lain there crying.
Is he embarrassed because all six of his limbs got cut off? But it’s only natural since I’m the one he’s dealing with.
Hmm…
A sudden, absurd thought occurs to me.
Could it be that without wings, he can’t fly?
Or without legs, he can’t walk?
Nah…
This isn’t some common divine beast; this is Gwangcheol.
Even if he’s been battered to the brink of death, held together solely by his heart, he’s still Gwangcheol.
A Gwangcheol incapable of moving without limbs…
That sounds like something an inept Sage who can’t read telepathy would say.
Wait.
These days, Sages can’t read telepathy, right?
Then maybe these days, Gwangcheols can’t walk without limbs either?
The logic baffles me.
I glanced to the side.
There, submerged in water, were legs slowly roasting.
They look like dinosaur legs. Reminds me of the T-Rex era.
If he really can’t move without those pathetic limbs, I feel a little sorry.
Would he behave quietly if I reattached them?
Just as I was softening…
“Don’t leave me alone… I… I can’t end like this…!”
Gwangcheol’s eyes flashed, and rings began spinning within his body.
With a sizzling sound…
“I’ll destroy even a single feather or scale before I go…!!!”
Oh great.
I worried for nothing.
—
The Betrayer Snake summoned flames.
Even though it sensed that continuing the rotation of the ring would make the situation uncontrollable, it kept spinning without stopping.
The burning heat spread throughout its body from the heart, eventually seeping out through the severed limbs.
The pain of cooking its wounds alive.
The Betrayer Snake paid no heed to such backlash.
After all, it was already done for.
From the moment it was abandoned, reduced to just a torso, it was practically a corpse.
If so…
It would burn everything it had, leaving an indelible scar on that unprecedented being.
The exposed reverse scale beneath its jaw.
The Betrayer Snake prepared its fiery breath.
“That’s not how you use Celestial Fire…”
The small white monster muttered something, but the Betrayer Snake ignored it.
It expelled the flames it would never summon again.
Compressing the flames, compressing them further, enhancing the power to its limits.
What the Betrayer Snake was spewing was no longer mere flame—it resembled a beam of light.
—Crack! BOOM!
The flames struck the neck of the unprecedented being, rebounded, and slashed through the prison filled with magma.
Flames of this magnitude…
They could permanently cripple even the strongest water snakes with intact orbs.
Such was the power gained through betrayal.
“… This cannot be.”
That was why.
The Betrayer Snake couldn’t believe what it saw.
“Ack, that stings.”
Through the small hand brushing off the ash…
The reverse scale remained perfectly intact.
How could it possibly defend against such an attack without shedding a drop of blood?
The Betrayer Snake refused to accept it.
“This can’t be…!!”
To the Betrayer Snake, this was simply absurd.
An entity that appeared to be a young water snake turned out to be something utterly ridiculous.
The fact that such a being mingled with land creatures, or that it sent warnings via telepathy before striking…
Nothing made sense.
It was almost suspicious enough to think it was a trap set up from the beginning to ensnare the Betrayer Snake.
But there shouldn’t have been a reason for such a monstrous being to deceive just a Betrayer Snake.
It was merely the irrationality of fate that fueled its frustration.
The Betrayer Snake resented the world.
“Aaaaaaah…!!!”
There was no going back.
The broken orb fragments spun uncontrollably, already grinding the Betrayer Snake to pieces.
They weren’t sharp or jagged.
Just unbearably hot.
Eventually, the Betrayer Snake’s entire body was engulfed in flames.
“That’s not how you use Celestial Fire…”
—
Gwangcheol is trying to commit suicide.
For heaven’s sake.
If only he’d listen to my telepathy…
Gwangcheol has never truly been Gwangcheol from the start, and he must’ve known that doing this would cause chaos.
Why did he do it?
Whatever.
In the middle of my fatigue, the sharp pain under my jaw woke me up, souring my mood.
Even if it were a Tongtong snake caught in flames, I wouldn’t care, but this bothersome Gwangcheol—I don’t particularly feel like saving him.
If I just leave him alone, he’ll quiet down eventually.
—Squeak.
Except…
There was a minor… problem.
—KYAAAAA!!!!
Gwangcheol writhed in immense pain.
Indeed.
He writhed.
His massive body, enveloped in Celestial Fire, thrashed around.
The pain must’ve been unbearable—he slammed his head against the walls, disregarding me entirely, and breathed fire in every direction.
This…
If it continues like this, regular human-made structures won’t hold up.
I briefly surveyed the building.
If the entire structure was built as robustly as this room, it might survive, but most of it seems to be a mix of stone and iron.
Despite its colossal size, this won’t suffice.
Soon, everything except this room and the one where I awakened will collapse.
Actually, half of it is already collapsing.
—Crash. Rumble.
Right when Gwangcheol touched my jaw, making me nauseous.
The crumbling building is noisy, and my head hurts.
Ugh.
I feel like vomiting.
“GYAO…”
I slumped onto the floor.
… Don’t care.
No one else is here besides Gwangcheol.
Dignity is something you maintain when you have the leisure to.
Who is any deity to criticize another deity when they’re exhausted?
I need to vomit.
Anyway, Gwangcheol won’t die easily while the Celestial Fire burns his body, so… might as well silence him while I’m at it.
—Whistle.
Then the Celestial Fire stored within reacted, roaring to life.
Yes, now.
No matter how much I control the power, clearing all five breaths will undoubtedly affect more than just Gwangcheol…
Let’s clear exactly ‘one breath’ worth.
Responding to my will, I loaded the Celestial Fire and opened my mouth.
“GYAA.”
And I vomited.
Poom.
—
The Betrayer Snake understood nothing.
Despite the searing pain throughout its body, its mind remained chaotically confused.
It must retrieve the rings until they’re satisfied. It must burn until the rings cool.
It couldn’t think of anything else.
As always.
This wasn’t why it betrayed its clan.
Thinking it might end up trapped in bondage until the very end without fulfilling its lifelong wish…
The Betrayer Snake closed its eyes despondently.
And then…
—!!!!!
A miracle occurred.
The tangled mess inside the Betrayer Snake’s mind cleared, turning pure white.
Only now did the Betrayer Snake realize.
It was absurd that it had forgotten.
Had it not shattered the orb, it would’ve remembered forever.
Water snakes? What nonsense.
Unprecedented beings? What nonsense.
With the oppressive ring broken, the Betrayer Snake could finally send telepathic thoughts to that presence.
To the one who had reminded it of itself, bound by the ring.
Believing this to be its final testament beyond doubt, the Betrayer Snake left behind a message.
For the last time.
“Sorry… I didn’t know…”
Without any pretentious tone.
The Betrayer Snake called out the long-forgotten title.
“Progenitor…”
Surely.
A warm feeling welled up.
Had it realized this wasn’t a testament, it would’ve maintained its pretense till the end.
But that was a matter for much later.