“......”
Ather let out a low groan after hearing the whole story.
“...So the Evil God might not have been born at all...”
A world turned to hell by an herbivore blinded by rage. A misguided decision from an immature mind.
The deer, having finished its story, pressed its mouth shut like an ordinary beast. Aram glanced between the silent deer and the pained Ather. After a mont of thought, she asked him:
“Is it too much for you?”
“...No, I’d already anticipated so of it from the records.”
“That’s true.”
“I’m not going to lose my mind now.”
Having spent centuries trapped in a prison of thorns, Ather had once gone mad more than a few tis. But not this ti. For ghosts of the past to fight over sin and guilt now—that would be idiotic.
“I refuse to be any more foolish than I already was.”
And that would be worse than any calamity.
“But this story made it clear.”
“I feel the sa.”
They were certain.
“Argio is without a doubt the Evil God of Wrath.”
It was ti to open the coffin.
“...I’m ready.”
“I think we’ve done all we can.”
“Let’s hope our flimsy little plan works.”
“It might. The Evil God is underestimating us.”
“Even if we’re just flailing within the bounds he allows... it doesn’t feel so bad.”
“I’m ready too.”
The deer no longer tried to hide itself.
“......”
“Will you open the coffin with us?”
“...Piiik.”
“I see.”
Even though it could speak, the deer chose not to. Neither Aram nor Ather knew why. They simply followed the deer—who wished to face the sins of the past—down into the underground tomb.
The steps remained dark, but there was no dust. Ather led the way, holding a torch. Though built in a rainforest, the underground ruin was dry, not humid. The sll of old blood hung heavy in the air.
“...Have you ever co here alone?”
The deer shook its head.
“Why not?”
Because it said it wasn’t worthy.
“...Ah, was that you speaking just now?”
“Piiik.”
“You’re quite skilled.”
Aram quietly marveled while mourning the tragedy. To the deer, speech itself was a sin, each word laced with guilt. So it had learned to communicate through air and presence instead.
“...You left records here, too. I’m deeply grateful for that. Without your writings, we wouldn’t have had any direction at all...”
Then she asked,
“I’ve read that in the past, every beast ford a tribe of its own. There was once a Deer Tribe, too—but records say they went extinct early on. Were you involved in that?”
The deer answered no.
“So it was a natural extinction?”
Among beast races, deer most resembled humans—in intelligence, but also in greed. Once they lost the wisdom of the beasts, they chose extinction on their own.
It was not the deer’s doing.
“...That wasn’t a pleasant topic. I’m sorry.”
After a short story and long silence, the tomb’s entrance ca into view. Ather stared at the massive crypt, then looked back at Aram and the deer. He warned them firmly:
“Once we go inside, you’ll see several coffins. If any of them speak—do not reply. We’re heading for the last coffin.”
“I understand.”
“Then...”
As Ather stepped inside, a voice echoed through the tomb.
“Back again, are you.”
A voice they didn’t know.
“The final family’s little toys have returned to the grave.”
“What do you seek in coming here?”
“Ah, the end draws near. Speak your end.”
“Have you finally decided to open the coffin?”
“It’s stifling. Enough already...”
Ather grabbed Aram’s hesitant hand and pulled her forward. The deer walked at its usual unhurried pace, gazing at the coffins. There was nothing to be gained from reacting to the vengeful, wrathful spirits.
And once they reached the final coffin—all voices fell silent.
“......”
Ather let go of Aram’s hand and addressed the coffin.
“...It was like this last ti, too.”
“......”
“When I stood before you, all the others went quiet. Like scolded children.”
“They were children.”
Creeeaak—
The lid of the coffin opened with a dull groan.
“How old did they sound to you?”
“...Judging by voice alone, quite young.”
“Exactly. I am the eldest among them—the one who first carved the na Argio into the world. Those little ones can no longer defeat .”
“Just because you’re older?”
“At the mont, yes. They’ve cald down. They’ve realized I’m the more experienced and stronger one, so they probably figured there’s no harm in following .”
“In life, Argio was a warlord who wielded wrath at will.”
She had read his past through the records.
“To you, wrath was both sword and shield. You were angry because you chose to be—unlike others, who were consud by it.”
“Do you know how strong a furious person becos? Do you understand the limits of that emotion? Yes—wrath is a fine weapon, a strong fortress. I was only angry when I wanted to be.”
Aram interjected.
“But that wasn’t true after you died. When all the ghosts gathered and beca the Demon King, you were forced to carry wrath you didn’t choose. The ‘Argio’ Evil God wasn’t made by you alone.”
“...Ahh...”
From the crack in the coffin, a large finger wearing a thick ring appeared.
“That small, youthful voice... is rather sweet.”
Clink.
The ring tapped against the coffin.
“Hey there, little friend. Servant of a strange god. Where did you co from?”
“...From the embrace of my teacher—the Moon.”
“The Moon, huh... Not a na I recognize.”
“Are you angry now?”
“I am when I choose to be.”
“Then now—please answer my question.”
“How brazen and bold... Cute.”
Tap.
The finger stopped moving.
“I’m furious.”
And then, a hand reached out from the coffin.
“...Ah, my friend...”
“......”
“My noble, innocent one and only family.”
The hand stopped in front of the deer.
“Why did you do it?”
The large hand opened like a blooming flower.
“Why did you do that?”
Drip, drip.
Golden eyes wept blood, stained into the palm.
“If you only wanted to kill , would I have raged this much? If you rely wanted to steal divine power and spread language among beasts, I wouldn’t have been angry. But you tried to trim my wrath, twisted its direction, and trapped in eternal agony.”
The hand reached farther, stroking the deer’s cheek.
“My friend, my family, my beloved little brother...”
He sared golden blood all over the deer’s face, then withdrew into the coffin.
“That hurt.”
“...I’m sorry.”
“Your teeth were terribly blunt—unlike now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Is your wrath finished?”
“It ended when all the humans who sinned that day died—along with all those who sinned again.”
“That’s unfair. I’m still angry—why didn’t you wait for my sentence? You should have raged with . Don’t you think?”
“All that remains of is this feeble body, this lowly existence. I have no strength left to face you, no will, no wrath.”
“...Is that so?”
The whisper turned toward Ather.
“Why did you bring that child to ?”
“There was sothing I wanted to see in you.”
“And now?”
“...I saw what I was looking for.”
“Why you thought that—I don’t know. But fine.”
Then the voice addressed Aram.
“Did you expect to forgive all this?”
“Yes. I thought you might—and I saw a glimpse of it now.”
“You say I showed a rcy I’ve never even seen in myself.”
“Saints are arrogant creatures. They’re born from pride.”
“I understand your intent. But I won’t answer.”
Creeeeak—
The coffin shut again. The spirit spoke.
“You’ve received your gift. It’s ti to open the gate.”
It was permission.
“......”
“......”
“Go.”
The voice whispered.
“Open it.”
Ather reached out.
***
Blood spilled.
“......”
It was the deer’s.
Ather pulled Aram behind him and drew his sword. Aram bit her lip—not surprised, only grim.
The deer’s blood gushed like a painting, flooding the floor of the tomb.
“......”
Ather scowled at the absurd amount.
‘This much blood... there’s no way it ca from just a deer.’
Splish...
The crimson liquid pooled around their feet like rainwater after a storm.
From the ordinary cos the unnatural. The air beca thick with poisonous stench, like a curse giving birth to more curses.
‘I never wanted to feel this again.’
A sight where all the rules of the world collapsed. Horror born from incomprehensible abnormality. Ather was all too familiar with it.
“......”
“...Yes, of course...”
Another hand, long and pale like a dead tree branch, erged from the dark beside the one holding the deer’s heart. It caressed the dying body gently.
“I had a family like this...”
Another hand reached out.
“My family.”
“Family?”
“Did I... have a family?”
Then another, and another, and another, again and again.
“Maybe there was a misunderstanding.”
“If I had family, why did all that happen?”
“No—it happened because I had family.”
“Ah, it hurts. I can’t breathe. It’s suffocating. This place is too small.”
“There is no sky, no sky, no sky. The hand that once cradled small things abandoned . I was left alone. So lonely, so terribly sad. You abandoned . I was left behind. Please... take with you.”
“Why did I have to go through all that? You created —yet never gave a voice, never touched . Your pathetic little children tore out my heart, cut off my arms, displayed my neck—and you ran, howling.”
“It hurts, it hurts, O God—tend to my pain. Or else bring Hell. The calamity you made is waiting here for you. Open the door, Creator. Show your face. I have waited.”
“It was so dark here. I couldn’t see. Even with a torch, I couldn’t light the world. Whisper to , Creator—why? You made from your greed. I’m still here. Where did you flee?”
“Co back, Father. Call my na. Look at . If you created this dreadful beast, then give a na. Where are you? Where have you gone? Ah, yes—I know what kind of being you are. Arrogant, ignorant. I understand.”
“Where does this wrath end? How long must I keep raging? No one can take this from . This heat that burns my insides, lts my mind—only that keeps alive. So sing to of sin. Curse with a na. Let the world point and mock.”
Countless mouths whispered in the dark and void. The words were too long to decipher.
Countless hands crawled from the coffin. Behind them, innurable figures oozed forth.
Like black, rotten lake water, or the sludge of the Black Forest, they seeped out and slowly stood upright.
“Show rcy—don’t I look pitiable?”
“I will laugh while you scream.”
“Stab , judge , call the worst.”
“All the wrath of the world is gathered here—curse , beg for rcy. I’ll never give you a scrap. Scream your worthless cries and waste your precious life.”
“O God—my Father—look upon ! Or give your neck! Why did I have to die in this dark forest? I cried in agony until my eyes lted with venom!”
“You said to guard the world—I obeyed. But if no one shares that will, what’s the point? Take . Take . Take . You should’ve let my breath rot. Know your sin!”
“Why? Why? Why, why, why did you forget ? You forgot. Don’t forget. I will stab you. I will adorn my dagger with poison and plant it in your heart. Show your neck. I’ve waited ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) so long—give it to . Father—ah! My father...!!”
Then erged a crimson body.
Longer than a serpent’s. Covered in feathers, like torn wings from countless birds stitched together.
Massive feet and claws pressed down on the tomb floor between the coils of its body.
“I once had wings—but I can’t fly now.”
“Humans clipped them, burdened with pain I can’t asure.”
“Wretches, traitors, worshippers of nature—you humiliated , trapped in this bloody stone tomb.”
“If I hadn’t been greedy, maybe I could’ve flown. But with these filthy wings, I can’t. Why, with wings, can’t I fly? The sky was there, and yet I had nowhere to go.”
“See what remains of ? Screaming flesh, blood-stinking feathers, the feet to crush your bodies. These patched hands can’t count you. These sewn eyes can’t see. These warped arms can’t embrace you.”
“You made this way. You recreated like this. Are you satisfied? You should be. You must be. I beca this for you. Didn’t you break and stitch this way?”
“Then what can you call now?”
“. I... what do you...”
“...What do you call ...?”
“...I...”
The figure whispered like a madman, scread, then wilted. Aram pressed further behind Ather’s back.
She began to gather holy power, ready to flee at any mont—yet muttered unconsciously:
“...A dragon.”
Twisted by humanity, ghosts, and rage—yet still a dragon at its core.
“...You were right.”
“...Far more grotesque than I rembered.”
“You said the magicians who locked Ather in a cage borrowed the power of this Evil God to kill the world’s Creator, right?”
“Yes. So...”
Ather struggled to hold back a sigh.
“It’s even more broken now.”
“...To think a divine herald beca that.”
“Human greed was too much.”
They had ruined the dragon.
“Now it’s ti to take responsibility.”
Ather led Aram out of the tomb.
The writhing ‘Argio,’ ford from countless personalities and endless rage, did not yet notice. Only after a long ti did he finally glance down at the deer’s fallen body.
Only those golden eyes saw it.
“......”
A long, stiff hand reached down, gently cradling it like a baby.
“...Still such fine fur.”
‘Argio’ smiled like a child.
“Are you sleeping?”
“......”
“I’ll protect you...”
It raised the deer’s heart.
And swallowed it.
Its lips, soaked in blood, split into a wide, enormous grin.
Then—crack—!
“......”
The man’s head split in half, leaving only a mouth.
The shattered pieces turned to dust in the air.
He fumbled with his twisted hands to find his head’s shape. Like a broken porcelain jar, golden blood spilled from within.
And then, the lips curled into a vicious crescent.
“...Ahahaha!”
He was delighted.
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