Chapter 634
A Warrior’s Destiny is Death
Eivass gazed at Origen, his voice growing hoarse and low, as if emanating from an abyss: “I have returned from the future, Origen. From a future where we are both dead.”
“The future…” Origen murmured, “is it like how you foresaw the future before?”
It was evident that as Helchin’s most trusted subordinate and the strongest warrior among his retinue, Origen had known of Helchin’s precognition.
As a warrior of the Path of Power, Origen’s mind was not particularly sharp. It was not due to low intelligence, but rather his pure heart that was unaccustomed to seeking truth.
He was merely silent, calm, and loyal.
Day after day, he wielded his blade and honed his physique. Beyond that, he did nothing else. He did as Helchin said, he praised Helchin’s righteous deeds, admired his morals and spirit, but he did not intend to question Helchin’s actions—he simply listened and then acted.
Only with such singleness of purpose and sincerity of heart could one reach such a realm at a relatively young age. That pure warrior’s heart could not accommodate the weakness called curiosity. The Path of Power was pure; the murky influences of the Path of Wisdom could not pollute his heart.
—It mattered not whether Helchin had turned into an undead, or if the future Helchin had returned.
Origen’s instincts, serene and clear as a water mirror, had already told him—the person before him was Helchin.
He had never forgotten his original intention.
Though his life had once been saved by Helchin… mere life-saving grace could, at most, be repaid with death. It was not enough for him to abandon his warrior’s dignity and pledge his life’s loyalty. What truly made him resolve to follow Helchin were Helchin’s benevolence and righteous actions.
—Origen wanted to be a good person.
He also had dreams; since childhood, he had wanted to live for others.
But that dream of “restoring light to the earth” was too grand.
On his long journey of honing his martial arts, he gradually understood… that harboring a sincere, kind heart did not guarantee good outcomes. Even with the best intentions, one could ultimately be exploited, unable to see through the fog, or fail to achieve their desires and miss the best opportunities.
Because he lacked wisdom.
—To eliminate evil, one must possess wisdom superior to theirs! To overcome villains, one’s companions must also be superior to the villains’ accomplices!
It was for precisely this reason that Origen sought out Helchin and his retinue.
Relying on Helchin’s thinking, and the collective wisdom and individual strengths of those companions, he was finally able to abandon his own thinking and exist as an ever-sharpening weapon.
To proceed with a clear mind and unwavering resolve without needing to think, to trust one’s guide wholeheartedly and be certain that this was the correct path—this was the happiness of being led.
Therefore, when Helchin spoke his first words, Origen had already believed him for the most part.
—And when that Night Demon quietly flew over, he believed completely.
That was a Sixth Tier Night Demon!
Although he had not known of Helchin’s acquaintance with such a powerful demon before… since Lord Helchin himself had given him the weapon of a Punisher Demon, such an event was not entirely surprising.
The Night Demon silently transformed into a black crow and landed on the shoulder of the King of the Wild Hunt, who was clad in silver armor yet exuded a chilling aura of death, wielding a crimson greatsword. It was as if it were about to merge with the black mist that continuously seeped from him.
“Origen…” Helchin’s voice was dark and hollow, “do you know how we ultimately died?”
“…I am a dull-witted person, my lord,” Origen replied in a steady, low voice, “so I do not know.”
He was a rather robust Lizardmen. As a male Lizardmen, his colors were more vibrant than a female’s; across his predominantly black and gray scales, large patches of dark red markings appeared. From a distance, he resembled black embers with unextinguished flames within.
He had tough spines on his head and armor-like resilient scales on his body. His face, rather than resembling a lizard, was more akin to the mythical dragons.
“—We fought to the death,” Helchin replied, “just as we saw before.”
“I am prepared, Lord Helchin,” Origen responded.
“We ultimately died due to betrayal, but even without betrayal, we were destined to perish… because the gods were not on our side. From the very beginning, this was a war we were bound to lose.”
“Yes, my lord,” Origen said calmly, not angered by the betrayal, “but we still arrived here.”
“Our bones were stewed by giants. That broth was eventually forced into the mouths of those we sought to protect… They drank it with tears. And we became undead, lingering in Beheading Valley. Because there were no remains to collect, we eventually became man-eating spirits.”
The King of the Wild Hunt, Helchin, spoke at length this time.
At this moment, Origen’s calm expression was finally moved.
He had considered death and was long prepared for it.
For a warrior, their destiny was to die in battle.
—The warrior’s path leads only to death.
Warriors, by definition, are those whose profession is war and combat. They are born to fight, and fear no death.
To grow old lying in bed, their souls permeated by the dread of the Twilight Path, that would be a warrior’s disgrace.
…But that is how it is said.
Hearing that he had fallen into a man-eating spirit after death still made Origen feel a touch of sadness.
“Then what should we do now, my lord?” Origen humbly inquired, “Should we take a priest and commit suicide to fulfill our funeral rites before being captured? Or should we simply destroy our souls?”
Among the options he provided, there was not even the possibility of “let’s escape” from the outset.
“There is no need to do anything,” Helchin replied. “I am not telling you this to devise a way to avoid misfortune after death.
“—Rather, I am telling you, since I have returned with power from the other side… we will not be defeated now.”
As he spoke, he took two steps with the Ghost Pegasus in Origen’s direction.
“Do you know the locations of the three gathering points: ‘Chest,’ ‘Loin,’ and ‘Ribs’?” the King of the Wild Hunt pressed with a profound voice.
Origen mounted the horse and subconsciously replied, “Yes…”
Helchin said, “Then you shall guide the way.”
“But, my lord… haven’t you personally experienced the future where we were defeated and died? Or have you, after returning, seen a future where we achieved victory?”
“Certainly not.”
“Then, Lord Helchin…”
“Even if I saw the future, experienced the future, and returned from the future—does that mean this future is predetermined?” the newly born King of the Wild Hunt retorted.
Origen was stunned.
…Otherwise?
Didn’t you return from that future? Not just seeing it like a phantom, but even witnessing and experiencing it firsthand—doesn’t that prove it is real?
He was, for a moment, at a loss for words.
He hailed from Horus, and after coming of age, he trained in the Ancient Kingdom of Anxi. One of these countries excelled in divination, the other in astrology. According to those mysterious astrologers and prophets, the future was a sacred and inviolable entity.
In his homeland, even the greatest battle leader, upon being prophesied to die by a priest, would return home and begin preparing his coffin and funeral.
Prophecies had only ever failed due to imprecise skills, unclear clues, or misinterpretations. Even negations came from their adversaries.
—Never had a prophet or astrologer, like Lord Helchin, completely negated their own prophecy without any excuse or reason.
“Wake up, Origen,” Helchin said, his voice resonant and powerful, “There is no such thing as destiny.
“Listen well, Origen. I am a very stubborn person. Even if someone tells me that the world will be destroyed on a certain day in the future; even if I myself have seen such a future, and everyone tells me it is true…”
As Eivass spoke, black smoke seeped from him and spread in all directions. That smoke merged with the Blood Moon conjured by the Night Demon, making the sky even darker.
Dim yellow radiance flowed from Helchin.
With a crisp clang, his faceplate slid off, obscuring Helchin’s features and making his voice even more muffled and hollow: “Unless I die in that doomsday—even in the very instant before my destruction, I will never give up! Because I will never believe—”
The surrounding space turned to twilight, and time seemed to freeze.
The entirely black Ghost Pegasus soared, its hooves treading on ice!
Helchin’s elongated voice echoed repeatedly in Origen’s ears:
“—That the future of the next second cannot be changed!”
(End of Chapter)
