Chapter 259

Chapter 259

For the record, Argio.

“...?”

Was being ostracized.

“What is this? Is this the point where I’m supposed to feel hurt right now?”

“Even if you’re an evil god, please don’t feel hurt over something like this.”

“Living in my house and not even acknowledging the homeowner—what a heartbreaking thing this is.”

“Tenants usually don’t want to become close with their landlord, you know.”

“What a very clever saintess you are.”

For Argio, it was the first time in his life experiencing such a thing.

“What are you all working so hard on without me?”

“We’re studying.”

“I’m good at that too.”

“We don’t need it.”

“I can help well too...”

“We don’t need it.”

“So firm.”

“Honestly, it doesn’t seem like an evil god could teach someone well in the first place.”

“That is a very, very deep prejudice against evil gods.”

Even if he looked like this, he had talent as a teacher.

“You seem to be studying hard about me, but I suppose you didn’t know this? I, Argio, had so much talent even in life that I would teach students as old as nineteen even when I was six.”

“That’s... definitely the first I’ve heard of that.”

“From the start, was there even anyone who could tell you my story, when I was the last monster of the Black Forest?”

“No, but we can read, can’t we?”

“That’s true. My house has a lot of scribbles.”

As the only beast in the Black Forest who could write language, how hard it was to endure not talking. Argio stayed in the ruins and often scribbled writing or drawings. It was a kind of mural and a record.

Recently, the saintess and the hero seemed to be studying it.

“It’s probably just a boring diary, and yet you’re working so hard.”

“You flatter me, and have confidence. Your diary is plenty interesting.”

“If I become any more confident, do you have the confidence to handle it, my little friend?”

“Then don’t.”

“Fine, I will. If my friend wants it, I should do that.”

“...”

The saintess, who had been looking up at Argio with strange eyes, asked.

“...What is your standard for calling someone a friend, Evil God?”

“What special meaning could ‘friend’ have?”

“On Earth, a friend usually means someone you’ve been close to for a long time.”

“That’s too dictionary-like a meaning, isn’t it?”

“Of course, the time you’ve known someone doesn’t necessarily decide the depth of your relationship. But even taking that into account, it’s because it seems like your standards for making friends are too loose.”

“I know well who my friends are.”

“By fate... and the future, you mean.”

Fingering a sheet of paper with various things scribbled on it, Aram asked.

“Will I become friends with you in the future?”

“You are already walking that path even now.”

“Even though I find you this annoying, does it still end up like that?”

“But you, too, know it and are walking this path, aren’t you?”

“You already know what I will do, don’t you?”

“Hm, who knows.”

To be honest, Gio didn’t really know either.

“It’s not as though I know everything.”

“For you, a divinity, to not know the intentions of a mere small vessel...”

“As you seem to have already guessed, my clever little friend. I am a very foolish existence who belongs to the side that does not want to know many things.”

“...That is very fortunate for us.”

Aram grinned.

“Thank you for your arrogance.”

“Rather than that, be grateful for my loafer-like disposition.”

Gio’s indifference came from a greater joy and interest toward the unknown.

“...”

But certainly.

“...No, is it arrogance?”

If limited to Argio, it almost sounded like it made sense.

“In the end, I’m letting you see me prancing about like this because I judge you won’t be able to defeat me, so in the end this too shows my lacking side. I admit it—you’re right. I am a very arrogant being.”

But who would decorate a battlefield with losing in mind?

“Please look kindly upon it.”

“Still, you have no intention of checking what we’re trying to do?”

“At this point, what fun would I have doing something like that? Look, in life I was a battle maniac who turned the world upside down, and in death I was an evil god who spread fear like a plague.”

“That’s right. We will never be able to defeat you. We won’t be able to kill you either.”

“You are already disadvantaged to overflowing, aren’t you. But I want to be righteously angry—what would I gain by taking out my anger on the weak with an unpleasant aftertaste? You must agonize more, not only for your sake but for mine. Become as strong as you can, and try every method you can use.”

“We are weak, compared to you.”

Aram spoke while gathering up every record she could.

“I’ll help you be able to get angry.”

“Ah-ha, really?”

“You’re not some mere evil god of dreams, Mr. Argio.”

“That’s right.”

“You are the divinity of rage.”

Mystique of a different class from shallow irritation or venting.

“I will throw your battlefield into chaos.”

“Please do.”

This was Argio’s last battlefield.

“Only if both sides give it their all can it truly be called being angry...”

Argio respected everyone’s every struggle.

* * *

“We found it.”

“Finally—my goodness!!”

While Argio was away, Aram and Ather shouted in triumph.

“If it hadn’t been for the record Argio left behind, we never would’ve found it...!”

“And it was a damaged record at that, so deciphering it was truly very difficult.”

“On top of that, it was an archaic language no longer used, so it was even more troublesome. We were practically creating the script.”

“The one fortunate thing was that, since it was a dead language no one uses anymore, more-than-necessary complicated rules hadn’t arisen. Maybe because of that, it was certainly a simpler script as well.”

“We still don’t know what pronunciation to read it with, but at least we can interpret the contents. We should record this great achievement in the royal library...!”

“Calm down. Building a plausible library doesn’t have to be right now. But the help of Mr. Ather, who was a royal librarian, was truly great.”

“I never thought the old books I’d read as a hobby would help like this. It’s a shame—if I had remembered more scripts, I could have deciphered it faster than this.”

“But in the end, we achieved results like this! If Mr. Ather’s mind and mine are combined, we can decipher even languages that have already been lost in no time! This is the power of knowledge!”

After noisily babbling for a while, the two soon regained their composure.

“T-this isn’t the time for this, but... where on earth was that being? Was it the being we were looking for? Really? So my guess that he truly existed was correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct. We wandered the Black Forest in our spare moments and finally found him. Since he’s a wraith of the old era like me, it seems he couldn’t escape up to the amusement park above.”

“If he’d escaped to the amusement park, we truly wouldn’t have been able to find him—thank goodness...! Th-then where is he now? Could you communicate with him?”

“Bringing him into these ruins seemed impossible, so I had him hide near the entrance for now. We could communicate, and he was even cooperative with us.”

“I want to meet him. Let’s move right away!”

No, in truth, their excitement had not cooled in the slightest. Ever since the two met each other, they moved to the entrance of the ruins feeling the happiest they had felt yet. Aram looked around with hawk-like eyes.

And soon, she exclaimed.

“Ah...!”

A single deer with pretty horns.

“I knew it was you!”

“...”

“According to the record, you are not an ordinary deer, correct? You should be able to use language. There are so many things I want to ask you. Please respond to my language.”

“...”

“...Creator of the evil god.”

Aram asked the silent deer.

“Why did you kill your friend?”

The ancient wraith answered.

“Rage.”

“...”

“...I wanted, a very great rage.”

He was the first beast to regain language.

* * *

There was a deer.

It was a beast that could not use language, lacked intelligence, and was driven more by instinct than reason.

It had an owner with vivid red hair. On his fifth birthday, the deer was given to the owner as a present.

“What should I name you?”

The child praised by countless humans postponed the decision.

“Hm, yes. A name is something extremely valuable and important, directly connected to the soul.”

“...”

“I will teach you speech. If a genius like me teaches you over a lifetime, you too will be able to learn language. Then choose the name you want—I will help you.”

“Piiik...”

“One day, you will understand everything I said.”

The young child’s outrageous vow lasted a very long time. Even when he was abandoned in the demon den called the Black Forest, the lessons between the child and the deer continued. He protected the deer from threatening beasts.

“Who would dare harm you, my brother?”

The deer still could not understand the child’s words. But it could feel affection. My family, stronger and kinder than anyone. The young deer grew quickly under that heartfelt care.

“Maybe because you only eat good things, you take a very long time to grow. A deer’s lifespan isn’t supposed to be this long, so it’s strange. Until one of us dies, I will keep my promise to teach you language.”

“Piiik...”

“Of course, I also like your crying sounds very much right now. That delicate, lovely cry tickles my heart, my friend. My little brother. Since I am both human and beast, I will make you so as well.”

That vow, which could be called arrogant, continued steadily. And so the child wrought a miracle when he himself came to be called Argio, the cruel beast. He succeeded in teaching language to a beast.

“See? I told you I was right.”

He was very happy. He hugged the deer’s neck and expressed that great joy.

“Now we are equal. It is not that I have lowered myself, but that you have risen up, so be glad. Do not forget that this is solely your own fruit.”

“...”

“You can now do many things. You can choose meals you decide yourself, not what I decide, sing songs, learn a new language, or even create one...”

“...”

“I’m proud. How do you make me this happy? Do what you want. Make the name you want yourself. Since you learned mine, you must also teach me many things.”

However, tragedy struck before the deer could make its own name. Argio was called the root of all evil in the world. The deer, which had only ever been protected, was helplessly seized by human hands. It became a hostage.

“They say that wicked beast cherishes this deer so much?”

“I wondered what kind of great treasure it would be, but this is... just a deer.”

“What kind of bond did beasts build to make it like this.”

Caught by humans, the deer tried hard to pretend it was an ordinary beast. The more it revealed its specialness, the tighter the surveillance would become. But no matter how it held its breath and waited, no proper opportunity came.

And so the Black Forest was burned.

“O god, burn away this dreadful curse!!”

And the beast the world called cruel did not escape the forest.

“We will turn that wicked beast into mere ash!!”

“Burn the forest that spread disease—then it will be purified!!”

“God will protect our rear!!”

“He’s dead, the cruel beast burned to death!!”

“The plague will stop and humans’ world will come!!”

What was the reason?

“...”

As a deer that had only been caught in the humans’ storehouse, it could not know.

Why didn’t he even run away? Was he grievously wounded by the subjugation force and unable to move? Did he spend all his time evacuating humans and beasts? Was he held back because of me, his most beloved beast and family?

If not...

“...”

“...My friend.”

The deer took advantage of the excited humans’ carelessness and returned to the forest that had burned down.

The family who had taught it language—the red-haired human—was dying. The terrible stench of roasted flesh filled the air.

“You’re very angry.”

“...”

“Truly... my insides hurt. Burning away.”

“...Piiik.”

“...Rage is eating me...”

The deer’s family cried and smiled.

“I don’t want to leave it like that.”

He knew the mystique that had piled up on this forest and on himself. If he died like this, consumed by rage, what dreadful calamity would be born? Argio said he did not want to be eaten away within eternal rage.

“Ah, I hate it. If I continue such a life, how dreadful would it be? That wouldn’t be fun, and it wouldn’t be refreshing either—there would only be a beginning, and no end...”

“...”

“Bring the family. My family, my friends. If they guard my side, then for their sake as well, I will not be swallowed by this rage—I will swallow it all. I can digest all of it like that.”

“...”

“...Will you please do that?”

The deer did so, calling all the beasts Argio had once cherished. The humans he had cared for were all killed or fled, but some beasts remained and waited for his last moments.

Argio was very happy.

“You add meaning to my cruel life.”

He was truly gathering in rage.

It was like a miracle. Remembering that he had been loved and had loved, by the existence of family, he was forgiving the world. He was understanding that he could do so. Enduring and forgetting.

“I am satisfied. I can die like that.”

“...”

“...”

But the deer could not.

“...Aren’t you?”

The deer was angry.

It could not gather rage like its brother, nor could it forgive the demons. A young deer that had only just begun to learn reason was helplessly swept along by dull judgment.

It was too angry. Humans were dreadful, the world was hateful, and it was enraged at the god who had ruined a noble lion. How could it end like this? How could an ending like this exist?

“Please grant my request, my friend. Help me end this curse...”

“...”

“Everything was a perfect end. It is the end I chose, the ending I wanted. The cruel beast should rightly be finished with the end of the Black Forest. Where is there an end cleaner than this, and not ugly?”

“...”

“Please, let me end within my rage. I don’t want to become uglier anymore.”

Ignoring its family’s plea, the deer bit and tore at its dying brother’s throat.

“Ghk, khk...!!”

“...”

A herbivore’s teeth could not quickly cut off its family’s breath. But that, too, was what the deer wanted. In this pain and betrayal, you should grow even angrier.

Become a calamity.

“...”

“...”

Seeing its brother die without even closing his eyes, the deer cried. And then it laughed.

“...When you awaken again as a calamity, please give me a name.”

By killing the son of a god, the deer stole the authority of language.

And so the Demon King of rage was born, but he never received a name in the end.

* * *

The one and only fragment that was not returned.

The deer

A small, young deer

That memory was trapped inside the heart.

Synchronization rate 99.9¿%

It was a fragment of rage.

(Continued in the next part)