Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 140: Mission and Mission
The memories that followed weren’t very different from what Myss remembered, but combined with Salaar’s own recollections, Myss noticed certain small details.
As time slowly passed and the survivors died off one by one from old age, the atmosphere in the settlement grew increasingly heavy.
Salaar, however, was the complete opposite. Whenever he faced Myss alone, the brat became livelier, more annoying with each passing day.
But when he returned to his companions, Salaar still retained the same demeanor as before: quiet, composed, and coldly impersonal.
He treated their injuries and illnesses and prepared bowls of steaming mushroom soup for them. He still patiently listened to the old people ramble, occasionally playing a song for them so they could remember sunlight from a past far too distant.
“Only a tiny fraction of them hate me. The rest are the ones with the strongest wills. I don’t want those upright people to know I’ve grown a ‘heart.’ I don’t want to increase their guilt.”
During one battle, Salaar spoke to the tentacle that had just sliced off his left leg. It was still stained with his blood, and he knew perfectly well that It couldn’t understand him.
Whenever Salaar spoke of having gained a “heart,” he would smile brilliantly, as though he had been born without the ability to feel pain.
Naturally, Myss understood none of it. It only saw that the lump of flesh was smiling annoyingly and making endless noises.
It tensed one tentacle and stabbed toward Salaar’s nose. Salaar barely dodged, losing only a few strands of hair.
“I know your attention toward me might exist only in my imagination, or perhaps it’s nothing more than the most basic instinct.”
“Even if you were only a plant that bloomed for me alone, I would still be… incredibly happy.”
In an empty room, Salaar leaned his elbows against the window and looked out over the tentacles covering the ground like capillaries.
“I’ll use the rest of my life to obtain the most valuable information possible for the human world. And I’m destined to die here, at your hands, without ever having to witness your death. Let me tell you a secret. I’ve never been this happy before.”
What would happen if you plucked a flower? What would happen if you erased a gust of wind? What would happen if you killed the only being in existence that had ever truly seen you?
Salaar calculated endlessly, day after day; yet in every single outcome, his odds of victory against the Chaos Archdemon remained zero.
It was a relief, in a way. He didn’t have to betray the human world nor would he have to stifle his own heart.
“…Right. I also need to research a method of extracting myself.” Salaar scratched his cheek. “I have emotions now, so I’ll have to strip the emotions out of my memories. Otherwise they’ll interfere with my successor.”
Then he smiled again and continued in a humming voice. “So this heart belongs only to me.”
Myss watched Salaar through the tiny window. It didn’t understand what the lump of flesh hoped to accomplish by stuffing itself into a little box. They both knew such a fragile box could be destroyed by one sweep of Its tentacles.
But in the end, It didn’t destroy it. Its consciousness had still been too hazy then. Perhaps It found the sight of a lump of flesh wedged into the opening of a box amusing… or perhaps It simply didn’t want to provoke this creature that could injure It.
…Whatever the reason, It merely watched in silence.
It watched Salaar secretly weave flowers from old strips of cloth and decorate the window with them. It watched Salaar repeatedly return to the center of the settlement to care for his dwindling companions. It watched him dig grave after grave and erect tombstone after tombstone.
Finally, the day came when the settlement fires went out completely.
That day, Salaar fought It for a very long time. Even after It broke every one of his limbs, even after Myss tried repeatedly to withdraw the tentacles that had been bent and battered, the battle still wouldn’t end.
By the end, Salaar’s clothes were completely soaked in blood. In Myss’s memories, that was the only time Salaar had ever attacked without restraint or concern for the consequences.
That day, the lump of flesh made very little noise.
“This is my coming-of-age ceremony.” In the end, Salaar said those words. “My homeland and my family have left me. From today onward, this life belongs to me alone.”
“When I leave you, will you remember…” Salaar never finished the sentence.
When the lump of flesh stopped making noise, Myss thought perhaps Salaar had malfunctioned too. After all, the other lumps of flesh always grew slower and quieter before being buried in holes.
But the next day, Salaar rummaged through the empty settlement and found a lute. A real lute, not one made from flesh.
Myss had initially mistaken it for some new kind of weapon, and in a way, the truth wasn’t far from it. When Salaar opened his mouth and started singing, Myss thought It was under psychic attack.
It furiously lashed Its tentacles around, trying to destroy the damned instrument. Salaar ran ahead, singing as he fled, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
Myss had once thought that moment marked the ending of humanity’s harassment. In reality, it was the beginning of the long three hundred years between him and Salaar.
So Salaar remembered it that clearly.
And apparently… Myss did too.
Myss tightened his grip on the edge of the black coffin. By now, he had long since forgotten all about the Eye-Opening Ceremony and the Blind God. He no longer cared whether this was an illusion or a dream.
Only one pure, delighted thought remained. Salaar’s obsession with him was perhaps even deeper than he had imagined.
Myss didn’t know how to describe the feeling. It was like discovering a heavy fruit hanging from a branch, almost fully ripe.
He had no interest in waiting for the perfect moment to pick it. He no longer cared whether the fruit itself was poisonous. He only wanted to pluck it down, claim it for himself, and declare that it belonged to him.
He wanted to turn Salaar completely into his own, forcing that wretched creature to struggle desperately against his instincts. The mere thought made every hair on Myss’s body stand on end with excitement.
That would be the sweetest victory, the most glorious happiness..
Even if all of this was intentional guidance from Salaar, Myss didn’t care. Whatever Salaar’s purpose might be, if they were destined to fight to the death, then Myss was willing to take the risk.
Myss turned his gaze toward Salaar, who was still holding him tightly.
His heart had never beaten this fast. Blood rushed through his veins, filling his ears with a buzzing roar. He wanted to swallow Salaar whole, just so the man could become his possession sooner.
Salaar seemed to read his thoughts. He pushed himself upright and leaned his head toward Myss’s ear.
“Before this, you only ever thought about ‘annihilating’ me. You never seriously considered ‘conquering’ me, did you?”
His warm, damp breath brushed Myss’s ear. “Yes. I depend on you that much. I’m obsessed with you that much. Before I ever fell completely in love with you, I was already unable to exist without you.”
Myss grabbed Salaar’s hair, his breathing still ragged.
“I know there’s a trap in this.” His scarlet eyes were astonishingly bright. “But I’m going to give it a very thorough try.”
Then he turned his head and bit the edge of Salaar’s ear. To Myss’s surprise, Salaar’s ear was burning hot. The heat startled Myss’s tongue, which recoiled from the heat.
Immediately afterward, the Archdemon felt an embarrassing loss of dignity. To restore his magnificent image as the one in control, Myss grabbed Salaar by the shoulder and found his lips.
He bit down on Salaar’s lower lip, not too hard and not too gently, tugging at it repeatedly as though tasting that imaginary fruit of victory.
Amid the tangle, Myss tasted the faint sweetness of blood. Salaar’s quickened breath spilled across his face.
Yes, exactly like this, Myss thought with a brain slowly boiling into mush.
He needed to tame this human, possess this human. He would turn the Hero Forgotten by humanity into something privately owned by Myss soon. This was sweeter than destroying Salaar and more scorching than killing him.
“Ahem.” From outside the illusion came an extremely deliberate cough. “Mr. Salaar, thank you for supplementing this information. However, our deal has not been established.”
Myss glared furiously toward the source of the voice. He had never found the Blind God so irritating.
Salaar didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he cupped Myss’s face and gave him a slow, tender kiss. The faint taste of blood dissolved between their lips and tongues, leaving only small, wet sounds amid their breathing.
Salaar’s kiss was long and tormentingly slow. Myss was forced to hold his breath until his head grew hazy. After several dozen seconds, he finally shoved Salaar away and gulped in air.
Salaar stroked Myss’s hair. Only then did he free his mouth and turn toward Sogné.
“Let me guess. After I left, the Celestial Canopy used the old method and entrusted all newly extracted memories to you.”
“According to the Celestial Canopy’s design, once you received ‘Black Coffin,’ you would be able to take human form, become ‘Salaar the Second,’ and replace me.”
Salaar bent down again and tightened his arms around Myss’s waist. It was difficult to tell whether he was restraining an enemy or marking his territory.
Myss was still dizzy from imagining his victory, so he generously allowed Salaar to hold him. He even let part of his weight rest against Salaar’s hands.
Sogné: “Yes.”
“The form of the ‘Blind God’ can extend my lifespan to its limit, but I cannot walk through the human world in this state. There was no news of you for a long time, and Black Coffin was never inherited. The situation outside became strange. I had to be born as quickly as possible.
“But one day, the Celestial Canopy suddenly went quiet. I could only search for a method myself.”
Myss looked at Salaar, then toward the disembodied voice of Sogné, unable to understand what the Hero was trying to do.
He could understand why Salaar had shown Sogné the memories from inside the seal. That could at least count as an extraction with the emotions removed. If Salaar died, what had happened inside the seal would not be lost.
But what did any of this have to do with “birth” This wasn’t what the Blind God wanted, was it?
“So you began studying me. Imitating me.”
“You cared for the survivors of the Crimson Marsh, helped humans establish cities, kept them away from disaster, and behaved like ‘Saint Salaar.’” Salaar spoke softly. “At the same time, you knew I had been created by the Celestial Canopy and raised by humans. So you searched for exceptional young people, made them fall in love, and disguised yourself as the child they never had.”
“That way, you could study the process of human embryonic development and be raised by exceptional humans.”
“That doesn’t sound right,” Myss blurted out instinctively. “Then why did he try so many times? Shouldn’t he have succeeded long ago?”
Mariana had been a genius, but she hadn’t even been willing to admit Salaar was her child. Myss couldn’t see what was so difficult about imitating that. Compared with Mariana’s treatment of Salaar, Myss himself was more like Sogné’s mother.
Sogné strongly agreed. “Although I lacked knowledge relating to the Night Scourge, I came to understand enough humans, and the memories I accumulated were no fewer than those contained within the Black Coffin. I watched human embryos form more than a hundred times. I received more than a century of human upbringing within dreams. I clearly satisfied as many conditions as possible, yet I was never able to truly be born.”
“I thought I must be missing something important.”
Salaar smiled, but this time it wasn’t bright or cheerful; instead, it held a note of bitterness.
“No. You have something important that you shouldn’t have.”
Sogné didn’t respond. Everything around them returned to darkness and silence.
“Given Lady Mariana’s meticulous nature, the birth spell must include an emotional check to ensure that my successor has ‘no heart.’ After all, if one inherits the Black Coffin recklessly, a ‘human heart’ would collapse under it.”
Salaar’s voice was barely a whisper.
“Unfortunately, you and I are the same.”
“We’ve both lived too long that we’ve grown a heart of our own. Forget three hundred years, even if the Eye-Opening Ceremony continued for another three thousand years, you could never become a second ‘me’.”
The air seemed to freeze and the darkness shuddered violently.
The illusion created by Salaar shattered and the Black Coffin vanished. They were back in that bizarre home, the endless daylight outside still glaringly bright.
Sogné sat blankly beside the table, his distorted face revealed little emotion. One hand rested over his heart, as if wanting to say something, yet unable to utter a word.
If Myss absolutely had to describe it, the twisted creature looked… Aggrieved.
“Impossible…” Sogné spoke as though sleepwalking. “Every time I understood humanity a little more deeply, my body changed. You both saw it. I thought…”
“I thought I was succeeding…”
“Yes. We saw. It weakened the dream and weakened your disguise.” Salaar sighed. “But that wasn’t the Celestial Canopy’s magic approving of you. It was a warning.”
“The more you try to understand humanity, the farther you move from ‘birth.’ The Celestial Canopy doesn’t need a gentle, compassionate god. It only needed an absolutely rational leader.”
Myss suddenly understood. He looked at Sogné’s distorted face and callously let out a mocking laugh.
“I get it. The Celestial Canopy wanted you to keep sleeping exactly as you were until Salaar finally dropped dead.”
“But you thought you couldn’t open your eyes because you were blind, so you kept trying to force your eyelids open… The name Blind God really does suit you.”
Sogné looked at Myss in confusion. There was none of the hostility Myss had expected in his gaze.
Only then did Myss realize that Salaar had omitted the most crucial information from his memories. Sogné only knew what had happened inside the seal. He had no idea who Myss really was.
Even now, Sogné probably still thought Myss was one of Salaar’s companions.
A malicious grin spread across Myss’s face. “Do you know that I’m actually—ugh!”
Salaar tightened his arms and squeezed the breath out of Myss, preventing him from finishing.
“…But.” At the same time, Salaar turned toward the distorted Sogné. “You never needed to become ‘me’ in the first place. You saved the human world. You learned to understand it. You have your own thoughts, your own joys and sorrows. You are the Blind God of the Secret Garden. You even have your own name.”
“…You were born a long time ago, Sogné.”
The darkness began trembling again.
The false daylight vanished and the nonexistent candlelight flickered out. The crude little home broke apart before Myss’s eyes. Among the fragments flying through the air, Sogné’s bedroom was the last thing to disappear. And as the walls crumbled, they both saw it—
Every wall of the tiny room was covered in crude family portraits.
The sheets of paper that had never existed in reality drifted lightly into the air, revealing childish writing on their backs.
[Aikin and Belinda. Two years and six months. Aikin taught me many woodworking techniques. Belinda sings beautifully. They would make wonderful parents…]
[Scarlet and Hahn. One year and four months. Hahn is the most attentive human I have ever met. Scarlet has astonishing talent in mathematics… Scarlet misses her parents very much, so I let them wake up. There is still no progress toward my birth, but that is not their fault…]
[…]
An unfinished drawing drifted down beside Myss’s feet.
On it were Myss, Salaar, and Sogné. The Sogné they had encountered when they first entered, the one who looked almost entirely human.
[Salaar and Myss]
Only the beginning had been written on the back. There hadn’t yet been time to continue. The handwriting wasn’t particularly beautiful, but it was full of anticipation, almost as though the letters themselves were dancing.
The drawing slowly vanished beneath Myss’s feet. Behind the shattered dream, the true Sogné was revealed. He looked exactly like the “successor” from Salaar’s memories.
He hid most of his body within the darkness, revealing only an embryonic outline and one or two distorted faces resembling Salaar. Only then did Myss realize that he and Salaar were lying just inside the doorway of this room.
The room was roughly the same size as their “home”, but it was more dilapidated and darker. There were no windows anywhere, much less eternal daylight. Only tightly sealed stone walls surrounded them.
“…Stop crying,” Salaar said.
Myss turned his head in confusion. He even checked his own eyes before realizing that Sogné, or rather the Blind God, was crying.
Tears seeped from those lapis-lazuli eyes. Perhaps because of his abnormal body, they couldn’t fall. They remained as a thin film of moisture instead.
The twisted monster made no sound at all. If Salaar hadn’t pointed it out, Myss would never have realized those were tears.
“I understand. You, too, have a ‘mission’ that feels like an instinct.”
Salaar stood up and casually helped Myss to his feet. “My mission is to end the Night Scourge. And your mission—your former mission—was to be successfully born and become ‘Salaar.’”
“But you never inherited the Black Coffin. You still helped the human world using your own methods. Even without a human form, you continued guiding Mondicia, one-third of all humanity in this world.”
“But… my mission…” The grotesque embryo emitted a buzzing sound, like countless mouths speaking at once.
“Yes. Our destinies.” Salaar cast a meaningful glance at Myss. “If you truly cannot let go of your mission to be born, then change the method. Embrace it.”
What did that mean?
Myss immediately became alert, his entire body tensing.
He could barely tolerate Salaar showing Sogné the memories from the seal. But if Salaar dared hand over his mission to “end the Night Scourge,” Myss might as well kill Sogné immediately.
“—Become our child,” Salaar said. “That would still make you ‘Salaar’s successor,’ wouldn’t it?”
Sogné: “?”
Myss: “…???”
Salaar smiled and patted Myss on the back, nearly knocking the bread loose from Myss’s chest.
“Next, I’ll need your help, Mo~mmy.”
The author has something to say:
Myss: ???
Myss: ???????????
Kinky Thoughts:
LMAO. They hadn’t even done it yet but already are parents.
<<< || Table of Contents || >>>
