Chapter 392: The Time He Waited, The Time He Walked (5)
[Hehehehaha! Are you that accursed Jiangshi created by the demons of the Great Yin Grotto? You seem inherently evil! I, the venerable one, shall strike you down and make you the protagonist of the fifth sword strike!] (ED: A jiāngshī, also known as a Chinese hopping vampire, is a type of reanimated corpse in Chinese legends and folklore. It is typically depicted as a stiff corpse dressed in official garments from the Qing dynasty, and it moves around by hopping with its arms outstretched)
He slashed.
[Amitabha Sword. New life is invariably forged by the swords of those in love. That has been the rule ever since the fourth sword strike embroidered this world. You are a product of demonic arts that disrupt the harmony of this world! I shall slash you down with my sword and put you at ease.]
He slashed.
[ The Divine Sword Emperor who rules over the greatest Sword Continent has sent me! Silently lower your head, you vile Jiangshi king!]
He slashed.
There was much to be slashed. Merely walking and breathing resulted in mountains of corpses cut down by him. It seemed as if everything that existed in this world did so just to be slashed by him.
It shouldn't be so.
[O Primordial Sword!]
It couldn't be so.
[Once again, the Primordial Sword has saved us!]
There must be something else.
[Primordial Sword! Primordial Sword! Primordial Sword!]
[Our beginning! Our end! Our savior!]
There must be.
[ Our son, all of ours! ]
He set out in search of that something.
He left the grotto. [You,] wandered the world. [Allegedly forged by the demons of the Great Yin Grotto,] he boarded a boat at the eastern sea's end and saw the rising sun for the first time, [The sword swinging towards the world.] Crossing several continents to the west, he stepped into a city of the Tower where no one from his homeland had ever visited. [Everything in this world,] he even brought down a dragon drinking light in the Divine Sword Mountains, [was waiting. This way—] and also met hermits sitting cross-legged under the ever-shining sky.
[Tsk tsk. Such a foolish fellow.]
The leader of the Hermits said.
[Why such worries written all over your face?]
He looked at the leader of the Hermits.
While most were small compared to his size, the leader of the Hermits was also tiny. That face, glowing pale blue, only had an overall outline with no visible eyes, nose, or mouth. They were a race called True Human or Divine Human, and he had already crossed swords with such beings several times before.
They were a terribly strong race.
Yet, they were always a step weaker than him.
He felt sorrow at this second fact. The True Humans, in particular, made him very sad.
He said.
[I am lonely.]
[Hehe.]
The True Human grimly laughed. Then said,
[What is there to be lonely about? All who gathered in the Great Yin Grotto to forge you are your parents. And since everyone who gathered there was forged by this world, in the end, you are the son of the entire world! How blessed are you compared to orphans whose fathers abandon them stealthily in front of a noble family's door like thieves or hang onto their mother's cold breast not knowing she is already dead?]
He knew that too. There were many who pointed swords at him, but there were also many who opened their arms to him. He knew well where to go when he needed a warm embrace, not harsh winds.
But he wanted more.
[I want to have my own brothers.]
A moment of silence passed.
[ You speak sorrowful words. ]
The True Human picked a reed and brought it to his face. A slit shaped like lips appeared on his smooth face and bit the reed as if holding a pipe.
[Yes.]
The True Human chewed on the reed for a while and then sighed.
[Yes. A sword only has meaning when each has one of their own.]
A sword held only in one side is merely a lethal weapon, muttered the True Human.
As the tip of the reed moved up and down for a while, he quietly waited.
Eventually, the True Human spoke.
[The technique that forged you is potent yet profound. It can be said that the heavens, earth, life, and principles of this world are all concentrated in you. The fact that it was done artificially means that human flaws have also been added. You will live a long time, incomparable to anyone else, but despite that, throughout your long life, there will be only you of your kind.]
[....]
[However, there's no need to take that grim assumption as a prophecy.]
The True Human spat out the reed and walked towards him.
Thud, thud.
He hesitated. With every step the clearly smaller True Human took, he seemed to grow larger. Thud, thud. The sound of his footsteps became louder and heavier. Boom, boom. He felt it as a vibration before the sound, and felt it as the sensation of a shadow heavily draped like a rain-soaked blanket.
[ Lower your head. ]
Before he knew it, the True Human now looking down at him, raised his fist.
[Let's see how many hits you can endure.]
It was the day he joined the sect.
5.
Blood splattered.
<Keugh!>
The man let out a desperate scream.
With blood-soaked, shimmering eyes, the man shouted as if vomiting blood.
<Black Dragon Master… how could you…!>
The woman known as the Black Dragon Master burst out laughing, fan unfolded.
<Ohohohohohoho! My meticulous plan has achieved perfect success! Kim Gong-ja! Thank you for striving to offer him to me!>
<Keuk… Did you… betray me…?>
<It would be a betrayal if I did it alone. But!>
As soon as the Black Dragon Master snapped her fan closed, people rushed over in a swarm.
<Take this! Kim Gong-ja!>
<Keuk! Crusader, you too…!? >
<Here's a stab!>
<Heretic Questioner…!>
<Hey, hey. Don't forget my sword too.>
<Venomous Snake…!>
<With this, I reclaim the rank 1 position!>
<Even you, Sword Saint…!>
Thus, after taking a hit from each, Kim Gong-ja vomited blood and collapsed.
The Black Dragon Master laughed out loud again, covering her mouth with the fan.
<Ho! Ho! Ho! As everyone's will is such, this is not betrayal but a collective consensus!>
Kim Gong-ja could not respond to those cruel words. Those who were once called his comrades, but in truth had never been comrades at all, continued to laugh at Kim Gong-ja's end for a long time.
Just then.
<Ha… Where is this…!?>
With a face full of bitter resentment, Kim Gong-ja suddenly rose to his feet.
Before him shone a brightly flashing cross-shaped formation, with a staff leaning against it.
<I am the Tower Master.>
<Tower Master…!? Why…!?>
<Gong-ja. You were not meant to die originally… However, having experienced such misfortune, I wish to offer you another chance.>
As the Tower Master spoke, light began to rise from Kim Gong-ja's body.
Kim Gong-ja trembled as he looked at his own hands.
<Oh… Ooooh… This, this power is…!?>
<It's your potential.>
<This is my power…! Feels like it could even destory a Constellation, no, even the tower itself, this power is mine…!?>
<And that's not all. Open your stats window.>
Kim Gong-ja did just that, and soon he could see his skill slots filled with 99 SSS-grade skills.
The Tower Master flashed brightly.
<I will now send you back to the time you desire.>
<I understand.>
Looking at the Tower Master with a deep gaze, Kim Gong-ja responded.
Soon, Kim Gong-ja melted into the crevice of space-time and resolutely declared.
<In my past life, I lived for others and was betrayed. I will not make the same mistake twice.>
Kim Gong-ja firmly declared.
<This life will be lived solely for myself!>
Kim Gong-ja.
It was the moment when the man who would later be recorded as capable of even destroying gods had returned…
"Ah! Nice!"
With a thud, the manuscript fell on the table.
A Goblin cartoonist scratched his bald head.
"R-really?"
The Elf editor nodded.
"Yes, yes. It's really good! Especially this part. [A power that might even destroy the Tower] The direction around this scene is just epic. Wow. I knew you were good at drawing but… this is truly moving."
"I've been in the industry for a while now…"
"Yes. Now it's about time you released your own hit work, right? You can't keep being an assistant to others forever. Settle down! Build a concrete house. Actually build a house. Right?"
Encouraged by the editor's words, the cartoonist twitched his thick lips but soon laughed emptily and nodded.
"That would be more than I could hope for…."
"Ah, it will happen. This stuff is popular right now, totally trending. You know about KimSeulam, right? The Snail Race author who debuted the year before last! His first work made into a Fire Painting Play became a huge hit. I heard he even built a whole building not in Babylon but in that Paradise place on the 20th floor."
"Really…?"
"Of course, it's true. Why would I lie? Right?"
The overly confident Elf editor's words made the cartoonist's heart flutter. A building! He had not even dared to hope for that. The mention of 20th floor and Babylon was too far-fetched, almost unreal. But maybe, just maybe, he could afford a house.
'No more worrying about rent…'
The cartoonist looked down at the manuscript he had drawn with a displeased face. Although he was a 15-year veteran, the quality seemed ludicrous, but if it meant achieving the long-held dream of financial stability, he would have to endure it… That's what he thought when:
"But, Mr. Author."
"Yes?"
The words of the Elf editor brought him back to reality.
"There are some parts that bother me."
The cartoonist hesitated, looking down at the manuscript. A sinister dampness seemed to soak the bottom of his heart. Every time he heard such words, nothing good ever followed.
"Which parts…?"
"What do you think?"
Shit, why are you asking me that? It's not like this is a public school class, just tell me what bothers you… thought the cartoonist, though he did not say this aloud. Instead, as always, he crossed his arms and watched the editor gesture towards him cautiously saying,
"Well… perhaps it's too direct to make the God Kim Gong-ja the protagonist?"
"No way. The God Kim Gong-ja is public property, public property. You know the stele with the vote results. According to Babylonian interpretation, it's totally fine to use it however you want."
"Then… um… maybe having 99 SSS-grade skills was too much…"
"Sigh. That's wrong too. You really lack sensibility, Mr. Author. Here. Look here."
The cartoonist looked bewildered as the Elf editor pointed to a specific part.
It was the scene of the Tower Master's appearance.
The Elf editor spoke with a face full of sighs.
"Why would the Tower Master be like this… What is this?"
"That, it's a hypercube… a 4-dimensional shape…"
"4-dimensional why? Because your mind is 4-dimensional? Why did you do it like this?"
The cartoonist muttered with his head bowed. The Elf editor, leaning in with his large ears, prodded, "Yes?" "What did you say?" It took a while before he got a response.
"Um… I thought it would be fitting for a god to have an ineffable, incomprehensible aura…"
"Sigh~"
The Elf editor let out a long, exasperated sigh.
"What are you talking about? No, no. Make it a beautiful girl. A beautiful girl in frilly clothes… Oh, would a pretty girl Tower Master overlap with the neighboring author's [Thousand-Year Viper]? Then… Ah! How about a beautiful boy?"
"A, a beautiful boy?"
"Yes, yes. A beautiful boy, very pretty! Make it so we can sell figurines!"
As the Elf editor became increasingly excited, the cartoonist's expression sank further. Regardless, the Elf editor continued tapping the manuscript with a sugar stick, critiquing.
"And what's this, don't just send him off like this…. Add something more. Since we're making it a beautiful boy, describe something. Like the beautiful boy Tower Master giving Kim Gong-ja a kiss on the forehead. Then light bursts forth! Zoom! How about that, the readers will drool over it, right?"
"...."
"I shouldn't be giving away such ideas for free as an editor~ I should be getting paid for this. It's a loss for me, really, it disqualifies me as an Elf."
"That…."
The cartoonist murmured with his head still bowed.
"I… will think about it."
The editor frowned.
"Think? What is there to think about?"
The cartoonist stood up without responding further.
True to his Goblin race, now called Asura, the cartoonist's shadow loomed large and covered the Elf editor. However, the Elf editor didn't even flinch.
"What now, are you trying to say you'll draw your own kind of comics again?"
The cartoonist turned away without a response, shoulders slumped.
"That won't work! It doesn't make money!"
The editor continued shouting at the cartoonist's back.
"You should know by now after struggling for 15 years, Sir!!"
The voice was more of a plea than a rebuke.
"Ah! You won't make money!!"
The cartoonist, clutching his manuscript, stepped out of the cafe. The editor's voice did not follow him past the cafe's door.
The cartoonist took a deep breath. He gritted his teeth as he looked down at the comic manuscript he had drawn, then tensed as if he was about to throw it away, but instead hugged it to his chest and started walking.
[Key Formation complete.]
The declaration of the Tower echoed.
[The traces of the life you have lived are now a common myth in this world.]
[95th floor is cleared. ]
The cartoonist, of course, did not hear the declaration. He simply continued walking towards his studio in silence.
However, someone who heard the Tower's declaration silently followed him.
[ You are entering the 96th floor. ]
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