TMHR 39

Chapter 39

Just as people believe in the gods of human history who protect them, there were also those who believed in the gods of another world who posed a threat to humanity.

— Xenon will save us!

There were lunatics who believed that the otherworldly god of destruction, Xenon, would destroy the existing order and thereby save humanity.

— Ignis will be reborn.

There were also those who believed in the lava giant Ignis—the one I had killed.

In my previous life, we called those who believed in the gods of another world as a form of faith by a single name.

Apostates.

Traitors to humanity and its gods.

Those apostates would only truly rise to the surface several years from now.

Enemies of humanity who worshiped otherworldly gods and carried out sabotage for their sake.

I thought I wouldn’t run into them just yet.

After all, my immediate goal was the gods of human history who had betrayed us, and the time when those apostates would begin acting in earnest was still far off.

I didn’t expect to meet them here.

However, it seemed their movements had begun far earlier than I had thought.

I recalled memories from my previous life.

— We must subjugate Jormungandr immediately!

The evidence Thor had presented, claiming that the colossal dragon encircling Midgard had betrayed humanity.

That evidence was none other than human sacrifices offered by apostates.

Photographs showing people with blood-red whale tails carved into their faces offering human sacrifices to Jormungandr.

The terrified faces of the victims, and the apostates who didn’t even seem inclined to hide their identities.

The images clearly captured them throwing victims into the sea from a ship, while Jormungandr watched.

Those photos were splashed across countless media outlets, and people’s sense of betrayal toward the colossal dragon who had betrayed humanity burned with near-madness.

— This is insane. He accepted human sacrifices outright?
— Isn’t that a demon, not a divine beast?
— He never broke his habit of causing Ragnarok.
— Isn’t this doctored?
— Experts already stamped it as not fabricated.

With public opinion inflamed and justification firmly established, even Loki—Jormungandr’s father—gave up on defending him.

— I can’t believe my son had fallen this far.

The reason the apostates had offered human sacrifices to Jormungandr was only revealed after Jormungandr’s death.

The descent of Azur, the god of the sea.

The pollution of the Pacific Ocean.

It was revealed far too late that the apostates’ true goal had not been the worship of Jormungandr, but his murder.

Too late to ever undo.

I can’t let that happen again.

If I hadn’t known, that would be one thing—but now that I did, I had to stop it at all costs.

They’d already begun their work.

It seemed the corruption had started far earlier than I had imagined.

Dong—. Dong—. Dong—.

I kept walking toward the source of the eerie bell tolls that seemed to squeeze the human heart just by hearing them.

“This isn’t a pleasant sound,” Gunter said.

“I agree.”

“Is it a signal for a ship to depart?”

“Most likely.”

“You seem to know something.”

“…I’ll tell you later.”

“Alright.”

Gunter didn’t press further.

I liked that about him—tight-lipped and cautious in his actions.

We soon arrived at the place where the bell was ringing.

Dong—. Dong—.

“Today as well, we have witnessed yet another group of sacrifices. A father of a child, and the son of a mother, failed to return from the sea. This is because the god of the sea is enraged!”

On an altar set up beside the harbor, a person dressed in unusual garments rang a bell continuously while shouting loudly.

In front of the altar, dozens of people knelt before that flamboyantly dressed figure, praying fervently.

What caught my eye were the middle-aged women dressed in black standing beside the priest.

Were they holding a memorial for someone?

Their deep black clothing, like mourning attire, stood out starkly.

“In the end, we have once again lost many neighbors to the wrath of the sea god. How long must we continue losing our neighbors to their selfishness!”

The priest pointed toward the village.

At his gesture, the people gathered before the altar shouted angrily.

“That’s right! The priest is right!”

“The god of the sea demands a new offering. In order to avoid losing our neighbors and our families, we must present a new sacrifice to Him!”

Their voices were like noise that stabbed at the ears.

Disgusting sounds that made one feel unpleasant just hearing them.

Gunter seemed to feel the same, frowning deeply.

“That man—he’s lacing his voice with mana. He’s no ordinary person.”

“Gunter, prepare for combat.”

“Understood.”

At my words, Gunter gripped his battle axe.

I felt an instinctive revulsion toward the mana-laced voice of the priest.

His mana wasn’t of an ordinary kind.

It felt twisted somehow.

It was known that there were generally two ways for an ordinary person to awaken.

One was to receive a blessing from a god of human history, a divine beast, or a hero.

The other was to awaken by fulfilling certain personal conditions, even without a blessing.

However, among awakeners, 99—no, 99.99 percent awakened through the former method.

Though considered a “general” method, awakening through the latter was exceedingly rare.

That was why the gods occupied the position of absolute protectors.

But there was another way to awaken beyond those two.

Receiving the blessing of an otherworldly god.

Just as the gods of human history bestowed blessings, otherworldly gods could also grant blessings to humans.

Though whether that could truly be called a blessing was questionable.

Those who awakened through such blessings always carried a subtle, unsettling distortion.

Just like now.

This is certain.

All that remained was to confirm the mark carved into their faces.

On the faces of those in flamboyant attire was a pattern I had never seen before.

A blood-red whale tail.

As expected.

“Unless we present a new sacrifice, those who venture into the sea will never return safely.”

That was him.

The mark symbolizing Azur, the otherworldly god who governed the sea.

The god who, together with Jormungandr’s poison, had ruined the East Sea and the Pacific.

His symbol was clearly engraved on the priest’s face.

At the priest’s words atop the altar, some people trembled as if struck by electricity.

They looked up at the cleric, as though pleading that it must not be so.

“They have to come back. Sir, my husband still hasn’t returned.”

“No…”

Watching the scene, Gunter muttered quietly.

“A living sacrifice. Do you know what—or who—they’re offering?”

“…….”

“It’s time you told me. I can tell you know something.”

Gunter continued, staring straight ahead.

“Why are people offering sacrifices to Angrboda’s second son?”

Angrboda’s second son.

Another name for Jormungandr.

“The ones they’re offering sacrifices to are not Jormungandr.”

“Then who?”

“Do you know the otherworldly god, Azur?”

“I don’t. But an otherworldly god? Are you saying they’re all apostates who worship an otherworldly god?”

I shook my head.

“The people living by the coast believe the god they worship is Jormungandr.”

“Then the apostates are guiding them to worship Jormungandr as a god?”

“Yes.”

I pointed at the priest.

“Do you see the whale-tail symbol carved beneath his eyes?”

“I do.”

“That is the symbol of Azur, the god who guards the otherworldly seas.”

“Why would the apostates make them believe Jormungandr is a god? No matter how I think about it, I don’t understand.”

Gunter asked, clearly baffled.

“They intend to kill Jormungandr. By offering humans to him, they plan to turn him into an enemy of the other gods.”

“Kill Jormungandr? No—before that, you’re saying they’re offering humans? Human sacrifice?”

“Yes. Their goal is to frame Jormungandr for human sacrifice, kill him, and then forcibly open the Abyss he’s holding back to bring down their own god.”

At those words, Gunter’s brow furrowed deeply.

“That’s madness. How could they even think of doing something like that…”

I recalled what Lee Suyeon had told me.

— They believe Jormungandr protects them.
— They think that if they offer sacrifices to Jormungandr, people who go out to sea won’t be killed by monsters.
— I don’t know what kind of sacrifice… but maybe offerings like chickens or pigs?

I had heard that, due to marine monsters that hadn’t been fully subjugated, people came to believe in a god who would guarantee the safety of those who went out fishing.

That custom seemed to have continued for quite a long time.

“Don’t try to understand apostates.”

“How do you know all this…?”

“…My family was killed by apostates.”

I brushed off his questioning with a lie.

There was no need to mention reincarnation.

There was no need to reveal everything I had.

No one would believe it anyway—and even if he did, it would be no different from throwing away my own weapon.

Above all, my relationship with Gunter was one of cooperation for mutual benefit.

I had neither reason nor need to trust him.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Bwooo—.

At that moment, a ship set sail.

Leaving behind the priest’s flamboyant dance and the people praying fervently behind him, the ship headed toward the open sea.

“Is there someone aboard being offered as a sacrifice?”

“Most likely.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Do you know what the best method of negotiation is?”

“Persuasion through eloquent speech?”

“No. Showing overwhelming force.”

Gunter smiled and gripped his axe.

“I get what you mean. Then let’s move.”

We advanced toward the altar.

“Target only those with the whale-tail tattoos. If the others attack, just knock them unconscious.”

“Understood.”

Gunter swung his axe in wide arcs, and I drew the Dragon Slayer and stepped forward.

And when we were close enough—

“Who goes there!”

Men with whale-tail tattoos on their faces glared at us and shouted.

Seeing the weapons in our hands, they quickly drew their own.

“We’re here for an inspection.”

I answered them calmly while quickly scanning the altar.

The priest with the red whale tail carved into his face.

And eight large men standing beside him.

On their faces as well, whale tails drawn in blood were clearly visible.

Nine awakeners.

There were nine of them standing here now.

There was no way this was all of them.

There were definitely more hidden somewhere.

I’ll think about the rest later.

For now, focus on the enemy in front of me.

“Enemies!”

“Priest, they’re heretics!”

At the brutes’ shouts, everyone’s gaze turned toward us.

“To think heretics would intrude upon such a sacred ritual—an unbelievable event has occurred, brothers.”

At the priest’s words, hatred and anger began to gather in the eyes of the people assembled.

And that anger was directed at us, who had disrupted the ritual.

“This is going to get a bit annoying.”

“Remember—only knock out the civilians.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve got that much finesse.”

We charged toward our enemies.