The Foreigner on the Periphery

Kentius wanted to curse a god he knew could not possibly exist.

Whatever his other identity might be, he had never doubted his racial identity as a dragon, which naturally made him an atheist.

He simply needed someone to blame, a target to hurl curses at for this situation.

A massive hole gaped in front of him. The outer wall of his Lair had collapsed completely, letting the freezing air blow freely in and out. Kentius stared up at a night sky that should never have been visible from here. Starlight spilled in abundance through the crisp air, entirely free of pollution.

'My Lair... the sanctuary I put so much effort into!'

Now, Kentius's new home was important in a completely different way than when he first moved in.

'The den meant to hide my body has collapsed. I feel completely exposed. I want to hide. I want to disappear!'

Whose fault was this?

It would be easy to blame the man and woman who had spouted nonsense before smashing his Lair and fleeing. It would be equally easy to blame Jenkinson, who had provoked the situation and vanished to chase after them.

'How did I end up like this?'

Until recently, he had not felt the slightest sense of incongruity. The reason he was suddenly agonizing over this was that his brainwashing was slowly wearing off. Eating his special meals on schedule every day no longer helped.

There was a reason for that. Asiph-1 was currently in a dimension quite far from Earth. Moreover, the massive amount of "feed" left behind for Kentius had been made when Minjun's abilities were weaker than they were now. It would be a different story if the food were cooked and fed to him right this moment, but as it stood, the brainwashing's grip was fading.

The one who brainwashed him had expected this development. Still, the influence would remain strong enough to keep him from spilling the critical secret until December 31st—the day the prophecy foretold Minjun would return to Earth. Minjun had figured that was sufficient. However, the side effects creeping in from the details he had overlooked were unavoidable.

'I hate this body!'

Kentius agonized. What was this dissonance between his consciousness and his flesh?

Questions he had ignored while perfectly brainwashed now consumed his mind. Lately, he had spent his days huddled in his den, denying reality. Having his secluded Lair suddenly crumble around him only deepened his profound sense of loss.

It felt as if he had nowhere left to hide.

The dragon's eyes sank into gloomy darkness.

Right then.

"...!"

The sound of leathery wings beating the air.

Through the hole, Jenkinson came into view. He held Kaien's nape in his jaws and carried Asisphael in his front claws. The two of them were bruised and battered, knocked completely unconscious as if they had taken a severe beating. Landing in the Lair, Jenkinson tossed the magically bound dragons aside and spoke.

"I came to apologize before heading back."

Since he was partly responsible for the Lair's destruction, it seemed to be weighing on his conscience. It was remarkably undragon-like behavior.

Kentius did not dare show his anger, but he felt he at least deserved to know why his home had been reduced to this state.

"What exactly did they hide in their subspace to cause all this?"

Jenkinson hesitated. Seeing that, Kentius quickly gave up.

"I suppose it is another one of those Ancient Dragon secrets that cannot be shared with the youth. It would not be the first time."

Jenkinson did not want word leaking out until he had squeezed the full story out of these two.

It was indeed a deadly serious matter. To think those reckless fools had stolen the Lord's Dragon Heart! Their audacity aside, how had they even managed it?

He had forced open Kaien's subspace and recovered the heart, but he was worried about what to do with it now. Would it even be possible to reopen the barrier created by the Princess of Endelion and store it back inside?

As Jenkinson stood lost in thought, Kentius spoke up.

"...By the way, I am surprised. So Ancient Dragons can even sense items hidden inside a subspace."

"Indeed. In fact, a subspace made by someone your age is basically a transparent drawer to a dragon my age. Even when closed, mana and scents leak right through. Just like your subspace."

"...!"

Jenkinson missed the slight tremor in Kentius's expression at that moment.

The Ancient Dragon had offered the gentle joke to ease the tense atmosphere. After making the quip, he was about to offer compensation for the ruined Lair out of moral obligation.

"Anyway, what exactly do you have in there that smells so delicious? I noticed it from the start, but I was so distracted I missed the chance to mention it. Smelling it for this long is making me hungry too. My senses tell me it is some sort of grain..."

In that moment.

"...!"

Jenkinson's expression froze.

After a brief silence.

He muttered, as if a sudden realization had just struck him.

"...Yes, this is the smell of grains."

Jenkinson was currently in his true dragon form.

And naturally, dragons did not eat grain.

The reason dragons specifically used Polymorph to assume a human form when enjoying wine was not just because of their size, but because their true bodies could not properly taste it. By the same logic, no matter how deliciously humans prepared a grain dish, it should smell like nothing more than boiled wood to a dragon.

And yet...

Jenkinson glared into the empty air, his eyes filled with suspicion.

"Why does this smell so intoxicating to me?"

The moment Kentius tried to explain.

"...!"

The younger dragon's eyes lost their focus.

   *

Fwoosh!

Hellfire roared in the Otherworldly City enveloped in night.

Amidst the throat-tearing agony, Ha Eunseong remembered a conversation he had with Cathy.

"Actually, Minjun's specialty is curses."

"Curses? Wasn't his signature move covering himself in that black monster and running around popping the bad guys' heads off?"

"...The shadow monster is certainly threatening, but he rarely uses it when hunting down petty criminals for the Immigration Office. There is hardly ever a situation that calls for it. That is why Minjun is much more famous for his curses."

Ha Eunseong had learned exactly why she sounded so certain back in Germany. He also learned why those who knew Minjun feared him so deeply.

The pursuers twitching and foaming at the mouth as poisonous mushrooms sprouted from every orifice of their bodies, their bellies swelling with fluid.

Cathy had added another detail.

"At least you can see a summoned beast's attack coming. Curses aren't like that. You can't tell who Minjun is trying to attack or how the curse will activate. The more unpredictable the disaster, the more terrifying it is. Plus, once a curse hits you, it is over. There is no such thing as a glancing blow or narrowly deflecting it. You are either cursed, or you are not. It is one or the other."

Cathy had explained that this binary nature was what induced such absolute terror.

"And Minjun is... specialized in a wide variety of curses. He comes up with ways to torture people that an ordinary mind couldn't even imagine. I don't know much about Dark Magic myself, but they say it is an incredibly difficult feat. Piercing through magic resistance to physically alter a human body, I mean."

Right, they definitely said it was difficult.

And because it was so difficult, the victims felt an even deeper fear.

Watching the scene unfold before his eyes, Ha Eunseong fully grasped the weight of Cathy's words.

"Av... avatar!"

"Oh God, please forgive us!"

This was a world where the stars had lost their light ages ago. Now, even the artificial lights that had replaced them were dead on the night streets.

Cruel flames danced, dyeing their vision crimson. The nauseating stench of people burning alive mingled with the acrid smoke.

The priests were trapped within a wall of fire. The survivors had dropped to their knees, shivering uncontrollably.

The man standing where they were bowing their heads—Minjun—had just unleashed a curse. As far as Ha Eunseong knew, this was the specialty of a dark mage. A curse that turned a living body into salt. A curse that ignited flesh and blood to fuel unquenchable flames.

However, the victims seemed to interpret it differently.

"God has... brought His wrath upon us!"

In their eyes, this phenomenon was divine punishment.

Moreover, the perceptive ones among them quickly realized the truth. Those still breathing were mostly the ones who had hesitated to attack the avatar. The priests who had fired flashes of light at Minjun were already reduced to pillars of salt or devoured by the flames.

The implication of this phenomenon was clear. God had returned their doubt and hostility with judgment.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

Hatred for hatred.

"Please, absolve the sins of these foolish vermin!"

The survivors clung to the razor-thin hope of being forgiven through God's love.

Except for one.

"This... isn't right. This can't be!"

Felix, the very ringleader who had incited the bishops and caused this disaster, was still alive.

He was on his knees like the others, but it was no declaration of submission. His legs had simply given out in the face of this unimaginable shock.

As if to prove it, instead of bowing his head, Felix glared at Minjun with bulging eyes. The primordial race met his distorted face with an inscrutable expression.

A precarious voice slipped out.

"Were you... truly God?"

The other priests could not hear him. Minjun had blocked the sound from leaking out.

The Grand Patriarch, who had most vehemently denied the two-eyed avatar, gritted his teeth until they nearly shattered. The words that followed were thick with indignation.

"If you truly were God, why did you test our faith in the first place?!"

His tone was entirely devoid of obedience or submission.

Felix stiffly raised a hand and pointed at Minjun. He was pointing an accusatory finger at the avatar. For a fleeting moment, roaring flames surged up and obscured the two of them, keeping the priests from witnessing his defiance.

"Are you amused? Does it satisfy you to see mortals fail to resist temptation, crumble, and then tremble in belated terror?"

He spat the words out furiously.

"And why did you come in that form? Why would you inflict such an insult upon us, your chosen, special race!"

His reaction was enough to confuse even the atheist Del. A cleric furiously demanding answers from a deity?

On the other hand, Minjun's expression remained as serene as it had been from the start.

He understood. The dispositions of sentient beings were largely predetermined at birth and rarely changed. That man was no exception. Everyone believed what they wanted to believe, but Felix possessed that tendency far stronger than most. Furthermore, he was someone deeply obsessed with a community that shared identical cultures, values, and appearances. It was a common enough personality type, and holding it was not a sin.

It was simply that his disposition had gotten in Minjun's way.

"If the Transcendent I served was this kind of god, I would rather..."

Those immersed in dreams of false happiness.

The primordial race.

If they were these kinds of beings, he would rather...

"Yes, I would rather."

Felix raised his hand to his heart. Forming even a tiny tumor in the blood vessels passing through here was enough to kill a person. It was an incredibly easy way to die. Felix intended to do just that.

"...!"

The bishop's eyes widened in shock.

No light emanated from his hand. The power that molded tumors by fiercely stimulating his life force and accelerating cellular division would not activate.

Felix realized he had lost his faith.

Fwoosh!

Blood-red flames danced furiously. Minjun approached, gripping a Dagger. Felix gave a tearful laugh. He rolled his eyes to look upon the miracle the avatar had wrought.

He murmured softly.

"I was wrong. You truly are God."

The smile vanished from his lips. A resolute gleam settled into his eyes.

Resolved for death, he declared.

"However, you are not my God."

It was a vow that, while acknowledging the being before him as divine, he would never worship him.

Minjun answered him softly.

"Well, we'll see about that."

"...?!"

Just as Felix's face contorted in confusion.

Shk!

The Dagger in Minjun's hand moved faster than the eye could follow and plunged into the bishop's throat.

"Guh... hurk!"

It was a wound that would have killed a human instantly, but Felix was of the Repatam Tribe.

The moment Minjun stabbed him, the flames enveloping them subsided. Thanks to this, every other priest witnessed the scene.

"Gasp, that's...!"

What unfolded before them was a sight of unparalleled holiness.

The avatar was personally holding the Holy Sword, granting Baptism to the leader of the apostates. Even though the man had already received Baptism from the Papal Deputy, God was directly bestowing His grace upon him once more.

The priests felt hot tears welling up in their eyes.

They knew exactly what must have transpired within those flames. In a space shared only by God and a mortal, Felix had confessed his sins. He had sincerely repented and sought forgiveness.

As a result, the avatar had absolved him, the representative of the sinners!

"Hurk! Guh... guggggh!"

To them, Felix's gasps sounded like a blessed melody.

They realized that because he had been forgiven as their representative, the priests who had already perished were saved as well.

Wraiths writhed in agony as they swarmed the air above, but the survivors paid them no mind. This world was going to collapse soon anyway. The moment the gods awoke, it would crumble into nothing. After that, whether living or dead, they would be recorded in the memories of the gods and exist for eternity. They would achieve true immortality.

"..."

Meanwhile, Del, who was watching the same scene, interpreted it entirely differently from the priests.

'I see. He's trying to stop Felix from being martyred just like that!'

Even among the cultists not present, there had to be those who denied the avatar for coming in human form.

If Felix died here, he would be deified among the apostates, becoming a symbol and rallying point for their defiance.

Minjun was preventing that from happening.

Shk!

Drip.

Minjun pulled the blade out. Blood continued to pour from his throat, but Felix remained alive.

The leader of the apostates wore an entirely different expression now. His hostility, sense of betrayal, and fury were completely gone. Even while bleeding heavily, his face was utterly serene. To the others, he appeared to be a man intoxicated by grace and divine favor.

Slowly, Felix bowed his head. He lowered his body flat before the avatar. Crawling forward, he kissed the avatar's feet and finally spoke. This time, his words rang clearly in every priest's ears.

"Oh God. Oh primordial race. Your lowly servant who serves You, praises the proof of Your descent upon this place."

The confession of faith recited by the heretical judges on Earth not long ago was reenacted right here.

Following Felix's lead, the other priests chanted along. Their overlapping voices echoed like a hymn.

"Oh God. Oh primordial race. Your lowly servant who serves You, praises the proof of Your descent upon this place."

The bishop, his face and neck smeared in blood, felt an overwhelming surge of joy. And so, he smiled, baring his teeth. The blood flowing back up his esophagus glistened across his perfectly white teeth.

Immersed in absolute bliss, Felix began to recite a prayer. The avatar's physical form no longer mattered. His doubts vanished, and all his memories took on entirely new meaning. Yes, the form He chose to arrive in did not matter. Because God loved them. That was all that mattered.

Felix was fully prepared to accept God's love. And he was ready to return it with unconditional devotion, fully resolved to serve Him.

The avatar responded to the confession of faith expressed through the prayer.

"Open the gate. I will reclaim what I have left far away for so long."

A cold, profound emotion swirled in Minjun's eyes. He whispered to himself.

Yes, it had been a long time.

Much too long.

"Cain..."

Del murmured in a voice laden with worry. The priests simply answered the command with pure joy.

The repenting apostate led the chant.

"Only within Your dream do we dream of You."

And the priests chorused back.

"Only within Your dream do we dream of You."

With all their strength, they praised the God whose existence had finally been proven.

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