Chapter 76: Western Fantasy Romance (Extra II)

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Chapter 76: Western Fantasy Romance (Extra II)

Servius Joy Extra:

The greatest sorrow in the world is nothing more than burying with one’s own hands the only person one has ever truly cared for.

The jet-black chains had already turned a true scarlet, carrying with them the unmistakable scent of blood. Scarlet stained his dark robes. He lowered his head to look at the person in his arms. A trace of tenderness flickered through his crimson eyes, but beneath that rare gentleness lay far deeper anguish.

His fingers, stained with blood whose owner he no longer knew, brushed across Aesop’s cheek, leaving a red smear against pale skin. Yet it failed to bring back the vitality he longed for. Instead, it only made the faint smile on Aesop’s lips appear even more fragile. Aesop was a god of light. Bloodshed had never suited him, just as the Demon Realm would never truly be his place. Servius lowered his head and pressed a light kiss against his cheek, filled with endless tenderness and longing.

When he raised his head again, madness had returned to those crimson eyes. The scarlet chains stirred with their master’s emotions. Their clear ringing echoed beneath the gloomy sky, beautiful to the ear, yet sounding like a funeral hymn for countless gods.

The expression on the dead god’s face remained frozen in disbelief before his body crumbled into dust, leaving only his garments behind. A cruel smile curved Servius’s lips. He licked his dry lips before covering Aesop’s cheek with his hand, as though trying to hide something. Born as the Demon King, sovereign of all demons, he could slaughter, he could dominate, but he could never be weak. He had always believed he would never know the taste of tears. Yet at this moment, he finally understood their bitterness.

Just as he had once said, everything he had ever wanted had come too easily, so he had never understood what it meant to cherish something. Cherishing was never about possessing it after the fact. It was about never letting it be lost. He had realized that truth far too late. Too late to leave himself with anything but memories. Too late to do anything except recreate that living smile in his mind.

Meeting Aesop had been an accident. The light he despised had disrupted the summoning array, sending him into a distant forest where they crossed paths. Had he never met Aesop, he might not have died there, but he would certainly have been gravely wounded. Though he hated to admit it, that first meeting had been the most miserable moment of his life, without equal.

Compared to his endless lifespan, the time he had spent with Aesop was incredibly brief. Yet he found himself drawn closer and closer. At first, he simply did not reject Aesop’s warmth. Later, he became accustomed to his presence. In the end, he found himself depending on it.

He loved this person. Once he acknowledged that fact, then that person should belong to him. In Demon King Servius Joy’s world, there was no such thing as an accident. Whatever he claimed, he would obtain.

But Aesop was different from everything else. Had he been the same, he would not have been Aesop. Sathalia’s summons took him away, making Servius realize that the man before him was someone his current self could never hold onto. For the first time, he cared about strength, something he had once dismissed. Even when he had been reduced to a child or hovered on the brink of death, he had never cared this much. Before, he had never possessed a goal. Now, Aesop had become that goal. The satisfaction of pursuing him was something he had never experienced before. So too was the sting of rejection… and jealousy. It was the original sin buried within every soul, one that neither mortals nor gods could escape.

The single year he had once considered insignificant became unbearably long. When they met again, he was no longer the Arthur whom Aesop had once cared for, but the true Demon King, Servius Joy. He did not want Aesop to see only a disguise. Arthur should never have existed. The world’s Laws acknowledged only Servius Joy, and only Servius Joy would remain.

Just as he had imagined, Aesop did not reject a Demon King who possessed the power of light within him. Breaking the Laws for the sake of one person was perhaps the wisest thing Servius had ever done. But… things did not unfold exactly as he had expected. Aesop’s devotion to the light far surpassed the feelings he held for him. It was as though his heart had been scorched, leaving behind a dull, lingering ache.

Every time he saw Aesop, he wanted to do something, yet every time he forced himself to hold back. But demons were a race forever loyal to their desires. In the end, he still pulled Aesop tightly into his embrace and carried him back to the Demon Realm.

People driven into despair were said to grasp at any glimmer of hope, but those words did not apply to Aesop. He would rather watch his last chance for survival disappear than abandon his convictions. That resolve, fiercer than Servius had ever imagined, shattered every certainty he possessed.

Even so, he refused to admit he had been wrong. If Aesop longed for the light, then he would obtain the light. Rather than tyranny or possessiveness, it was more a form of self-consolation. Aesop would not leave, because Servius wanted him to stay.

Yet after struggling until the very end, the outcome was one he had never imagined and could never accept. Aesop himself abandoned his final chance at life, entrusting Servius with the Angel’s Heart he had cultivated but had not yet fully formed, the source of a Light God’s power. Servius had seen the regret in Sathalia’s eyes. Had Aesop never ascended to godhood, perhaps he would not have chosen to give up. But… had he never become a god, he might have departed long before then. Even the Laws could not hold back someone determined to leave.

He could understand, but understanding did not mean acceptance. He turned his own body into a tomb, burying within it the one person he cherished above all else. A power that had once belonged to Aesop now pulsed inside him, and within it lingered that familiar presence, that cool, gentle warmth. It was as though Aesop had always remained by his side, only to vanish whenever Servius reached for him. Though he understood curses better than anyone, he seemed to have fallen victim to an illusion from which there was no cure, because the only one who could dispel it was already gone.

He tightened his embrace around Aesop’s body. The coldness against his arms was still the sensation he loved most. But it had lost its former softness, gradually stiffening, and still he refused to let go. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the white-robed Divine King, his garments already stained with blood. Yet Sathalia’s gaze never left the man in Servius’s arms. Aesop was not the only one whose heart had been thrown into chaos.

Aesop had believed death would be the end. Servius, however, took it upon himself to offer the lives of every god as a funeral tribute. He had never expected that the justification he found for slaughter would earn Sathalia’s agreement, nor that Caelir would join in as well. But it no longer mattered.

As his chains swept across the battlefield, all he could see was a sky drenched in blood and vision that grew increasingly blurred. Every god, including the ancient Dragon King and Dwarf King, fell by their hands. In the end, only the three of them remained, the oldest gods of all. Why were only they left alive? Why had they not turned on one another? Perhaps because, within the other two, each could still see traces of Aesop’s memory.

The power within his body was greater than ever before, yet his heart grew more exhausted with every passing moment. When the slaughter finally ended, he would sleep. Though gods could never dream, he could at least lose himself in his own illusions. He had never cared for this tedious world, and now he cared even less.

The Divine Realm and the Demon Realm were remade into a magnificent tomb, burying every god and demon within them. The grand palaces held neither celestial remains nor many relics. They existed for only one reason: so that Aesop would never have to face loneliness.

When Sathalia said he wished to sleep alongside him, Servius did not refuse. Aesop was gone. There was no longer any meaning in continuing their conflict. He did not want the last sanctuary that belonged to Aesop to be stained with blood because of his own possessiveness.

Though he hated to admit it, he had regretted everything from the moment Aesop disappeared. If he could begin again, he would rather abandon his throne as Demon King, plunge the world into chaos, and keep the one who had long since taken root in his heart.

Now… the world was in chaos all the same. But the one he wanted to keep was already gone…

Sathalia Campbell Extra:

Light cannot illuminate every corner, nor can a god control everything. Even the most exalted status could not keep the one he wished to keep the most. Who says gods love all people? He loved only one.

He wandered through a remote town. He did not know its name, only that he and Aesop had once traveled through it together. It was the same journey, but where once they had walked side by side, now he walked alone. By habit, he glanced toward the place beside him, only to find empty space. His white robes stirred softly in the wind, but the flash of red that had once appeared at his side was nowhere to be seen.

Before him stood a white building. It had once been the Holy Church; now it was the Light Guild. Escorted inside by an attendant, he entered the spacious hall. The divine statues that had once filled every corner were gone. Only a single portrait remained, its features blurred. A figure clad in red robes stood beneath the sky, with the book once known as the Holy Scripture at his side. It was still called the Holy Scripture now, but its purpose had changed. Once, it had been a book of prayers to the gods. Now, it was a complete codex of light magic.

Sathalia placed a hand over his chest, where the original Holy Scripture rested. It was a book written by Aesop himself. Between its lines, he could almost see Aesop’s devotion to the light, his hopes for the future, and the vision he had held for this world. It was the only object he knew that still carried Aesop’s presence. That was why he had remained in Kode Continent for a time, helping the former Holy Maiden transform the Holy Church into the Light Guild. The price was that, during those days, he could not see Aesop’s face. But he wanted to preserve something that had once belonged to him. He wanted to fulfill Aesop’s final wish.

Sathalia’s gaze lingered on the place where the portrait’s face should have been. Every fold of the red robes had been painted in exquisite detail, every crease vivid and lifelike. Only the face remained indistinct, its features barely discernible. The portrait had been painted by the former Holy Maiden, who believed her skill could never capture such peerless beauty, and so had simply left the face unfinished. He slowly raised a hand, wanting to trace the face engraved in his memory onto the canvas, but in the end, he let it fall.

It was not because he could no longer remember Aesop’s appearance. On the contrary, Aesop’s image was more vivid in his heart than even his own reflection. It was simply that he did not wish to leave behind a portrait. He did not want anyone else to see Aesop smiling, solemn, or compassionate.

He was a god, yet somehow he had acquired one of the demons’ worst habits, an almost incurable possessiveness. But… he had no desire to change. The Divine Realm was no longer what it had once been, nor was the Demon Realm merely a place of darkness anymore. There was no longer any need to divide them so absolutely. Besides, human writings had once said that the desire to possess one’s beloved was simply part of loving someone…

Beloved… What meaning was there in finally understanding that answer now? It could only deepen his sense of loss. After one last look at the unfinished portrait, he turned and left the guild in the remote town.

Along the road, he heard people remark that another divine statue had mysteriously vanished. From that, he knew that yet another god had fallen within the Divine-Demon Realm. Servius truly was an efficient cleaner. At this rate, it would not be long before the Divine-Demon Realm returned to the desolation they had known when they first came into existence.

…It was time for him to return as well. He would return and lend Servius a hand. This transformation of the world was what Aesop had wanted. Then he would devote everything he had to fulfilling that final wish. Following the densest trace of dark aura, he found the familiar figure, and the person held in his embrace, the one who still governed every one of his thoughts.

The overwhelming scent of blood clinging to Servius drew none of Sathalia’s attention. Neither did the almost tangible killing intent surrounding him. In that moment, the world contained only that still body and that familiar face. Sure enough, only by seeing him could Sathalia’s silent heart begin to beat again. Even the pain carried with it precious memories. At least, in this moment, he felt whole.

He remembered the calculations behind their first meeting. He remembered how Aesop had appeared respectful on the surface, yet had always stood perfectly straight. Even when he bowed, it had never been to Sathalia himself, but only to the light Sathalia represented. He remembered the look of concentration on Aesop’s face. He remembered the smile that had almost never changed. Without realizing it, the corners of his own lips lifted slightly. Yet those blue eyes gradually darkened, filling with grief until their radiance slowly faded.

The more vivid the memories became, the crueler reality appeared. Yet only through that self-inflicted torment could he know he was still alive, that he had not followed Aesop into death. Those blue eyes shed no tears, yet they were more heartbreaking than tears could ever be.

He had never imagined that one day he would become so fragile, so fragile that he could scarcely maintain the sacred dignity of the God of Light. But once a path had been chosen, there would be no turning back. With the very hands that had once embodied purest light, he stained himself with blood. The only gods who deserved to remain in this world were those he wished to leave behind.

What gods had Aesop wished to leave behind? There certainly could not be any gods of light. Thus, every angel except Sathalia himself had been slaughtered. Some had fallen by his own hand, some by Servius’s, and Caelir had, naturally, played his part from the sidelines. Nearly every demon had become nourishment for Servius’s weapon. Even the Dragon King and the Dwarf King had been destroyed, their Laws, left without masters, absorbed by the three of them.

In the end, across the vast realms, only Servius, Caelir, and Sathalia remained. Perhaps… this was the answer Aesop had wanted? His gaze drifted to the person resting in Servius’s arms, and for an instant, he seemed to see that familiar smile once more. Perhaps what Aesop had wanted most was Sathalia’s death. After all, he was the Divine King, the god worshipped by all who practiced light magic. Yet… he did not want to die. Once dead, he would truly be unable to think, unable to remain by Aesop’s side, and unable to love him any longer.

Sathalia loved Aesop. Because he loved him, even if Aesop hated him, he would continue living.

Servius intended to take Aesop into eternal slumber. How could Sathalia allow himself to be excluded? Even if it meant remaining beside the dark aura he despised most, he was willing to stay at Aesop’s side. With his own hands, he closed the crystal coffin above him, then rested one hand upon Aesop’s body. Aside from the time he had helped Aesop break through the barrier between Saint Rank and Divine, this was the closest he had ever been to him.

He slowly closed his eyes, a smile of unparalleled sincerity gracing his lips. ‘Goodnight, Aesop. When I awaken, the first person I see will surely be you… because these eyes… can see no one but you.’

From the day Sathalia returned to the Divine-Demon Realm, his eyesight gradually began to fail. The world first became blurred, then faded until no scenery remained at all. No one knew the reason, and he had no desire to seek one. Even so, he could still instinctively find where Aesop rested. Within Sathalia Campbell’s eyes, there was truly only one person left. The face he had seen for the last time had long since been engraved into the depths of his heart. Perhaps… this was better, wasn’t it?

He vaguely remembered Aesop once saying that he would take him to see every place touched by sunlight. Now, no light remained before his eyes. Who could have imagined that Aesop would fulfill that promise in such a way?

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