NOVEL NEXT Chapter 248: The Sun
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'I should've known it,' Zidane mused grimly, realizing that he had subconsciously ignored such thoughts to his detriment. 'Obviously, there are fucking morons.'
While Zidane cursed his less mentally capable brethren, Oyaras continued her evil boss monologue. She offered a mix of pertinent and useless information about Earthlings, clearly enjoying her role as both informant and tormentor.
Unsurprisingly, many on Orbis knew about Earthlings; some of Zidane's "brethren" had flaunted their otherworldly knowledge, trying to replicate ideas they only half-understood. They filled entire libraries with half-baked concepts, garnering temporary fame but never achieving much beyond that—anything from the telegraph to the internet.
"It's always fascinating how useless most of you are," Oyaras said, her voice echoing in Zidane's ears as she locked eyes with him. "You, though, seem different~."
Zidane agreed with her partly, but probably in a different way than she thought. Yes, most were useless as they couldn't replicate advanced technology or scientific feats from memory, especially without external research. If one weren't a highly educated researcher who lived for their field, it was probably highly unlikely that one knew even the basics.
Multiple other factors were also to consider. One was time, as those Earthlings came from different years. If one were from the eighteen hundreds, there was a high probability that their knowledge was extremely limited if they didn't have some basic education. The other was the circumstances one was born into. As the offspring of some farmer, their goal wouldn't be the same as his, creating a better society, but simply to survive. Additionally, if they had no backing, most would probably stay quiet, fearing abduction or worse.
Zidane's rebirth as Alexander into an almost untouchable household was more of an exception than the rule, happening simply by chance. What made his position a godsend was also probably his expertise. As a computer engineer with minors in various fields—and plenty of hands-on experience—he understood enough about several disciplines to tinker effectively.
Still, Zidane remained confused about her compliment. Ignoring his charity work, most people only knew him for popularizing the printing press and finding a method to create mages without cruel or risky procedures. His biggest success—developing a primitive calculator capable of rudimentary data storage—had never become public knowledge.
Zidane smirked at the sight of Oyaras giggling atop the paw of a colossal sand-crafted behemoth. "I guess the printing press didn't impress you much?" He guessed, unable to comprehend that there weren't at least a few before him who popularized such technology, but it was a relatively good follow-up point as it was simple enough.
Oyaras hopped down with a soft chuckle. "Oh, that little invention? It was actually adorable," she said, running her tongue across her lips. Zidane suppressed a shiver at the gesture. "It never went anywhere, but it's also one of the reasons so many factions want you alive."
His brow furrowed. "And the other reason?"
"They want you dead, of course, ~" she replied sweetly.
In vivid detail, she described various groups that actively hunted people like him—invaders from Earth. They tested each suspected genius, determining whether the individual was merely talented or occupied by another soul. Often, the outcome was grim.
Zidane managed a rueful grin. "What a waste of manpower."
"You should brush up on your history," Oyaras countered, her lips curling into a malicious grin. "Your kind has caused tens of millions of deaths, toppled empires, and kingdoms, created diseases of unimaginable scale, created religions, facilitated foolish ideals no one even thought about—" She ticked off the atrocities on her fingers, each point a casual condemnation.
Zidane felt an uneasy chill at her words, continuing with terms he knew they were capable of in the wrong hands—communism, fascism, and proselytizing religions like Islam and Christianity—plus countless other ideologies—had apparently found their way to Orbis through different Earth-born souls, each trying to recreate real-world history here. Most were stopped before they could truly take root, prompting numerous organizations to view any Earthling as a threat to be eliminated.
On the other hand, Beast Kin society had embraced Zidane much as they once revered Merlin. They were a relatively young empire in Orbis and saw only benefits in strange knowledge. The best example was the Count, who adored the Cathedral of Pestilence, supporting it financially to help Moorgrel catch up to other societies, which had many more years of development to show.
"Besides Merlin, who's the most famous," Oyaras added, "there was also your master's ancestor."
"The Moorgrel Count?" Zidane blurted.
"Precisely. A woman named Sapphire Moorgrel—who later styled herself Clementine W. C. Moorgrel, the middle name unknown, but it was clear she was one." Oyaras paused to let her words sink in.
Zidane tried to think of someone but couldn't figure out who it was. It could also all be Oyara's imagination, as not every genius was an Earthling. For her, it was all like a conspiracy theory that might assume that everyone in power was a lizard person—a blatant lie as it was a canine.
Oyaras shrugged off his confusion. "Anyway, you're here now, an Earthling of considerable cleverness."
"Maybe," Zidane replied, forcing a casual tone. "I know a thing or two about computers."
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"Hm," Oyaras said, tapping a finger to her chin. "Right, those giant boxes of yours. Still, there are others just itching to collect you."
Zidane took a careful step back. "Collect me...for what? To tell how I actually made the printing press a success? For your information, it was paper."
"Haha! That was actually genius, and because of that, I think you are the right person!" Her playful laugh turned manic. "A hero once mentioned your Earth's crowning glory. He claimed he died from the aftermath when you Earthlings recreated the sun!" Her eyes glimmered with excitement. "Think about what that could mean for us."
The words sliced through Zidane's composure. He immediately understood she was talking about a nuclear weapon—perhaps another reincarnator from Earth had died during World War II. A cold fury roiled in his gut. Nukes were the last thing he wanted Orbis to have, especially with maniacs like Oyaras giddily fantasizing about harnessing such power.
'Is this the reason she became so stupidly playful?' Zidane suddenly understood that her personality, from extremely hateful and condescending, may seem to have to do with the fact that she saw his memories, immediately thinking she found another puzzle piece for her crazy plan.
She sidestepped the towering sand behemoth. "That's right." She answered his inner turmoil, his frown hard to overlook. "Once I collect enough souls—enough knowledge—we'll show this world our superiority!"
"You're insane," Zidane growled, gripping his fists.
"Whatever you say." Oyaras merely rolled her eyes. "I am done doing my due diligence with some parasite." She flicked her wrist, and the behemoth exhaled a massive gout of fire. The sand beneath Zidane's feet blistered into glass.
He watched in horror as his body dissolved into flame—and then as if nothing had happened, he found himself standing unharmed, his mind reeling in confusion.
"Hm," Oyaras's voice purred inside his head. "Impressive mental resilience. Let's see how many times I can kill you before you break."
"Son of a—"
Another barrage struck him, killing him outright. Then again, and again, a ceaseless assault until Zidane lost track of how many times he died. Each time, his consciousness reappeared, frayed around the edges. Finally, he staggered, panting, rage boiling in his veins.
"I'll kill you!" he hissed.
A surge of blood-red aura flared around him, staining the sand underfoot like ink spilled on parchment. Even without skills, this part of him somehow endured—an echo of Moorgrel's corruption or perhaps something deeper. Oyaras laughed with the delight of a child who had found a new toy.
"Perfect!" she cried. "I was getting bored."
Zidane's mind raced, clawing for a solution before he disappeared entirely. He could not conjure any spell, let alone sense mana, and running away was nothing but a waste of time—a reckless idea formed. "You want me to let my defenses fall?"
She tilted her head in mock surprise. "Oh? Are you truly going mad already? Typically, it takes months to break someone this far."
Zidane took a steadying breath. With a mental command, he forcibly dismantled every last skill he possessed, leaving his mental state vulnerable. For an instant, it felt like dropping all his armor on a battlefield.
Oyaras sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Always the same theatrics, thinking you can actually have a serious duel with a shaman inside their domain."
His eyes reddened, and a dangerous mania coursed through him. "A duel?" He snarled. "You've mistaken something."
Oyaras frowned her playful attitude still there, thinking she was the one who had the upper hand. "Do your last stand already, and let's be done with it." She sighed. "I need a new body after this, and maybe," her voice chirred with mockery, "I will create it after this little and cute girl you murdered~."
"Big mistake." A sinister red mist spread across the desert like a creeping plague, reminiscent of Moorgrel's cursed aura. "I am not your opponent, though, " Zidane said, voice trembling with barely contained hysteria. "Good luck dealing with that."
Oyaras retreated a half-step, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. "You think your pathetic killing intent can scare me?"
"Like I said, not mine." A chilling laugh escaped him. "His."
He pointed behind her. A colossal silhouette loomed, eclipsing the sun. Its voice rumbled, low and enraged, "Invader." The voice made the desert vibrate with maliciousness and pure insanity—indeed, his aura was nothing but pathetic compared to that thing.
The creature had goat-like legs, a bull's torso overlaid with patches of scales, and multiple snake-headed tails whipping furiously behind it. Furred, clawed arms completed the abomination. Zidane recognized it from a previous brush with madness—some primal monstrosity tethered to his soul. Ever since Bartholomew's interference, Zidane knew this horror lurked within him—far more than some ancient bloodline.
While it looked different now, it was still an amalgamation of all beasts known—a horror and Zidane's one weakness. Due to this, he had to endure countless nightmares, sleepless nights, and tearful humiliations in his siblings' arms. His mental fortitude skills were only there to hold it at bay, fearing it would eventually come out and destroy everything he loved and cherished—like a razorblade at the corner of his mind, slowly cutting into his sanity, slice by slice.
'Time to pay rent, you piece of shit,' Zidane's body repulsed with fear—a gamble he may regret, but it was his only idea.
Oyaras had no time to react; the beast's serpentine tails lashed out, coiling around her. A third head emerged from its side, hissing in disappointment as the second head sank razor-sharp teeth into her flesh.
The monstrous sand golem turned to strike, but the abomination merely lifted a massive claw. A wave of crimson aura slashed through it, shredding its sandy form instantly.
The residue touched Zidane, making him wet himself from fear—a killing intent so powerful it felt like invisible hands made of pure madness grabbed his throat, slowly applying pressure while—he was unable to move or say anything, his voice gone. All he could do was cry and smile manically.
Oyaras, meanwhile, was devoured by the beast. Yet she did not reappear this time, as though even her twisted consciousness could not resurrect itself. The thing that lurked within Zidane made a bizarre comment in a voice dripping with casual disdain:
"Pizza Hawai was better."
Zidane barely had a moment to process those words. An invisible yank suddenly wrenched him backward. His vision alternated between blinding light and utter darkness until he felt himself forcibly crammed into a shrinking space.
Moments later, he jerked awake in the scorching hall, his returning skills colliding with the storm in his mind. "Urgh!" he groaned, collapsing and vomiting as a splitting headache tore through his skull.
"Mr. Alexander, are you okay?!"
"Boy?!"
Lili and Barry rushed forward, shielding him with their auras. Through his blurred vision, he saw Oyaras's body—or what remained of it—shriveling into dust.
"You…" Alexander managed, still gasping for air. She was disintegrating completely, her final words a near-whisper: "Will see."
All eyes turned to Alexander, who staggered upright, every nerve aflame. His gaze fixed on the dusty remains, sensing that a new, greater threat had been awakened.
"I need Mom and Dad," he said, voice trembling. "This is serious."
Even as he spoke, his stomach twisted with a horrifying realization: these maniacs planned to recreate a destructive force beyond Orbis's comprehension. A force that sent shivers racing down his spine.