Chapter 97

Foreshadowing (3)

Title) Immortal King Summary

Wild Grylls

Once upon a time, there was a certain kingdom.

The kingdom was poor, but it had a kind king and happy subjects.

The kind king devoted himself to his people, and his people understood how hard he worked for them, so they always smiled.

But one day, some bad guys invaded and began tormenting the people.

Because the king loved peace, he tried talking to the bad guys, but what do you think happened?

The bad guys ignored the king’s pleas and tormented his people even more!

Enraged, the king asked his remaining subjects to help him defeat the bad guys.

The people knew how kind their king was, so they gladly joined forces with him.

Thanks to that, the king and his people worked together and defeated the bad guys, but oh no!

An even worse guy appeared from among the bad guys!

The even worse guy was so powerful that even the kind king had difficulty defeating him.

But the king refused to give up and continued fighting to protect his people.

His people also fought without regard for their own lives for the sake of their benevolent king.

In the end, the king and his people defeated the even worse guy.

Having defeated all the bad guys, the king and his people dreamed of a happy future as they all departed together for dreamland.

...

└ From the undead’s perspective, he really was a kind king lmaooo.

└ For real lol. He was a wise and benevolent ruler of the undead.

Thinking of the day when everyone could smile together...

That’s basically it, right?

└ Heavenly Demon: You have a talent for fairy tales.

└ SwordMaster: Seriously. Weren’t old gruesome fairy tales all like that?

└ Allfather: Hohoho. If the Immortal King had seen this post, he would have coughed up blood.

└ Wild Grylls: He’s already dead, so I don’t think he’ll be coughing up any blood lol.

└ Damn. But when you compare it to what actually happened, it’s kind of chilling lol.

└ The part about "fighting without regard for their own lives" and the line about "departing for dreamland" are creepy as hell;;

That was what was happening while the gallery descended into chaos over the contents of the books I’d uploaded.

The Immortal King, the Balkan Kingdom, the Holy Kingdom, whatever.

None of it mattered.

What mattered to me was the information related to survival.

I didn’t care about some hidden historical truth.

’Talking about it in the gallery isn’t going to change anything anyway.’

Even if this whole mess spilled over into the real world, I didn’t care.

There was only one situation in which I’d need to care.

If I escaped the Forest of Four Seasons.

No matter how much trouble the Holy Kingdom caused over this, they couldn’t affect me at all while I was stuck here.

’The head moderator might be a little uncomfortable, though.’

The Holy Kingdom was a nation that worshipped the gods, and the head moderator was a deeply devout believer.

Now information that could shake the very foundations of that country had suddenly appeared.

Naturally, she’d probably be somewhat uncomfortable.

If she asked me to delete the posts, I’d happily do so.

The information had already spread everywhere anyway, and I’d already given the books to Allfather.

All I had to do was quietly watch.

I had no interest in anything involving the Immortal King.

’I’m not even sure people will believe it.’

Unless Allfather publicly revealed the physical books, it would be difficult for people to trust information that originated from the gallery.

It would also depend on the Holy Kingdom’s existing reputation.

If the Holy Kingdom already had a bad image, this could become a serious problem.

If it had a good reputation, people would probably dismiss the whole thing with, What kind of bullshit is that?

’Most organizations made up of people have something shady going on behind the scenes anyway.’

Just as stagnant water inevitably rots, groups of people eventually become corrupt as well.

Even if they started with good intentions, given enough time, corruption was inevitable.

Unless the people were periodically replaced, it would be difficult for any organization to remain clean forever.

’Well, that’s true everywhere, isn’t it?’

That was something for the people of that country to deal with.

As someone stuck inside the Forest of Four Seasons, I had even less reason to get involved.

I watched as criticism and condemnation of the Holy Kingdom began appearing throughout the gallery, then silently logged out.

It seemed like it would take a while before they deciphered the survival-related parts I actually wanted.

’Anyway, this means there’s at least some chance there are other survivors...’

The corpses I’d found this time had taught me something.

There was a good chance that more human remains existed somewhere in this forest.

Unlike the bodies that had presumably been eaten by the owlbear, there could also be remains like the book’s owner, preserved relatively intact.

’If there were people much stronger than me, they probably survived even longer.’

The owner of the books had been the last scribe of the Balkan Kingdom.

A scribe was someone associated more with letters than martial arts.

There was a chance he’d become stronger by surviving in the Forest of Four Seasons, just as I had.

Unfortunately, though, he probably hadn’t been able to use the gallery.

Even I couldn’t guarantee that I would’ve survived without the gallery.

That was a huge difference.

’From now on, I’ll have to search places like caves thoroughly.’

There wouldn’t have been much opportunity to build cabins in the Forest of Four Seasons, so most survivors had probably used caves as shelters.

’And it probably wasn’t just humans who came here, right?’

If I was incredibly lucky, I might even encounter someone.

Demons and elves in particular had a much higher baseline than other races.

They could easily manifest magic that humans had to rack their brains to learn.

Even without the gallery, having magic would provide an enormous advantage when it came to survival.

"Though by this world’s standards, I’m a fucking idiot, so magic isn’t even worth dreaming about."

I’d given up on magic ages ago.

Apparently, they described fire using some kind of physics.

The moment I heard magic was particularly intertwined with mathematics, I’d abandoned the idea without hesitation.

I’d rather use "magic" through brute physical force.

’If there really is another survivor...’

Just knowing another person was out there would be comforting.

Until now, I’d thought I was completely alone.

Would I be able to find more traces of people?

It felt as though I’d gained a small new objective.

If escaping was my ultimate goal, then searching for traces of other survivors could be a smaller goal along the way.

’Didn’t they say most people who entered the Forest of Four Seasons were criminals?’

Criminals sentenced to the severe punishment of having their eyes gouged out before being sent inside.

Or criminals who had committed such horrific offenses that there was no longer any place for them in society.

Or, failing that, explorers who entered simply to prove their courage.

Of course, the chances of actually encountering any of them would be extremely low.

After all, they said the Forest of Four Seasons was about the size of a small country.

’Still, I can’t give up.’

It felt like I’d found another source of hope.

The hope that, if I was lucky, I might actually meet another person.

I let out a long breath and stood up.

’I should spend this time training instead.’

There was still some time left before dinner.

Rather than sitting around feeling sorry for myself, it would be better to practice my swordsmanship.

I picked up my sword and shield and began gradually working on the areas where I was lacking.

’I don’t care who it is. I just hope someone’s still alive.’

It was a very small wish.

***

Kadir was a man who wanted to know everything in the world.

Whether it concerned magic, people, or history made no difference.

Few things interested him more than truths hidden in darkness.

Such a thirst for knowledge could sometimes lead to ruin, but who was Kadir?

The Wizard King.

The master of the Magic Tower.

The man who had mastered every form of magic.

No matter how enormous it might be, a mere truth was nothing more than another curiosity to him.

"Rice Kraone."

[...]

Kadir calmly spoke someone’s name.

The skull sitting by itself in front of him reacted.

A green glow appeared inside its empty eye sockets.

It was almost as though it had opened its eyes.

"Do you know who that is?"

The skull speaking with Kadir had originally been kept inside a freezer.

But considering that it had asked him to kill it, there was no doubt that it was anything but ordinary.

[How do you know that name?]

An eerie yet dignified voice flowed from the skull.

It didn’t sound like a voice produced by vocal cords. It felt more as though the words were being transmitted directly through thought.

Kadir—or rather, Allfather—was unfazed by the spine-chilling voice.

"So what was written in the book really is true."

[I asked how you know that name.]

When Allfather failed to give him the answer he wanted, the skull—

No.

The Immortal King let out a sound of irritation.

At the same time, green energy enveloped the skull and blazed like flames.

It was deathly energy itself, surging and billowing around him.

Even with nothing but his head remaining, the Immortal King’s power had not disappeared.

"I learned of it by coincidence. From the looks of things, your scribe fled to the Forest of Four Seasons."

[...]

"If you answer my questions sincerely, I’ll tell you where and how I obtained this information."

The deathly energy surrounding the Immortal King gradually faded.

It was a silent permission to continue.

Allfather smiled broadly for a moment before his expression turned serious.

"Why did you hide this truth?"

[Because our kingdom was weak, and we lost. Is that enough of an answer?]

It was a cynical answer, yet one that cut straight to the nature of the world.

The weak inevitably had many things taken from them by the strong.

Truth was no exception.

More importantly, history was written by the victors.

The records of the defeated could only be distorted and erased.

Allfather stroked his beard as though he finally understood.

"I’ve known for a long time that the Holy Kingdom was rotten, but I never imagined it was this bad. Thanks to you, they underwent a purge once already. Does that mean what we have now is actually the improved version?"

[...]

"No, I suppose not. They still went and exiled the Hero... Tsk, tsk. I suppose they still haven’t learned their lesson."

The Holy Kingdom of Eldorado did not have what anyone could honestly call a good reputation.

Originally, it had been founded upon the conviction that the Demon King had to be defeated, but that purpose had faded with time.

Recently, the demons had even become so obsessed with sports rather than fighting that they barely paid attention to the other nations.

If anything, they had become more interested in culture, while the Demon King had increasingly come to be regarded as little more than the king of the demons.

Normally, an organization that had lost its purpose should simply disband.

But Eldorado was an entire country.

Because it had been forcibly held together despite losing its original purpose, the water naturally became stagnant.

And stagnant water inevitably rotted.

[Now answer my question. How did you learn the truth?]

While Allfather had been muttering to himself, the Immortal King’s eerie voice interrupted him.

Allfather snapped his fingers.

A book appeared in his hand.

"This."

It was the record left behind by Rice Kraone, the last scribe of the Balkan Kingdom.

Rustle—

Allfather kindly opened the book to its first page and showed it to him.

Despite having no eyeballs, the Immortal King’s gaze seemed to move along the page.

Then, seeing his native language for the first time in ages, the Immortal King let out a stunned breath.

He spoke in a tone of disbelief.

[I cannot believe it. I ordered him to flee to the Forest of Four Seasons.]

"That’s where this was found."

[Impossible. The Forest of Four Seasons is a labyrinth from which no one can ever escape.]

"That’s true as well. But I’m not the one who found it."

Allfather briefly summarized everything that had happened.

How Grylls had fallen into the Forest of Four Seasons.

How he was somehow able to use the gallery from inside it.

How, after enduring hardship after hardship there, he’d stumbled across the corpse and the books by chance.

The Immortal King listened silently before finally speaking.

[I cannot believe it.]

"It’s all true. So, what do you want to do?"

[What do you mean?]

Allfather casually flipped through the book, which he had now completely deciphered, and explained.

"I’m asking whether you’d like to strike a blow against the Holy Kingdom. I’m not particularly fond of them either."

[...]

"The previous Hero who died together with you was a friend of mine. And the reason she resorted to mutual destruction in the first place was because she couldn’t withstand the Holy Kingdom’s pressure..."

Allfather paused.

"In practical terms, they murdered her."

[Do as you please. But I have one condition.]

"A condition?"

Allfather raised an eyebrow.

The Immortal King stared directly at him before making his request in a voice filled with something close to resignation.

[Kill me.]

"Later."

[Damn it.]

At the immediate refusal, the Immortal King muttered a quiet curse.

It was fairly mild as far as curses went, but considering that he had once been a king, it was remarkably strong language.

"Any other requests?"

[I want to know who found the records.]

"I told you I obtained them through the gallery."

[Help me gain access to that gallery.]

"Don’t be ridiculous. You clearly..."

Allfather stopped mid-sentence.

An amusing thought had suddenly occurred to him.

Ordinary undead had no sense of self.

Their wills were so faint that they were closer to monsters than people.

But the Immortal King was an exception.

Even after losing his entire body, he had retained a perfectly intact sense of self.

In that case...

Couldn’t he access the gallery too?

[You’re making a perverted expression.]

"Ah. My apologies. An interesting thought occurred to me."

[So, will you help me?]

"Of course I will."

[Even though I could reveal your location?]

It was almost a threat.

And at the same time, a foolish question.

Allfather chuckled and gave him a perfectly reasonable answer.

"Who would believe a story about the Immortal King who once plunged the entire continent into terror sitting inside someone’s refrigerator?"

[...]

"I’m absolutely not setting you free. I’m merely telling you to entertain yourself on the gallery."

The Immortal King spent a long while silently considering Allfather’s words.

At last, seemingly having reached a decision, he made another request in a calm voice.

[Please kill me.]

"Later."

That request wasn’t getting granted anytime soon.