Chapter 71: The Truth About to be Touched
Misha clearly didn’t understand what Lance meant.
He stared at Lance, thinking that if he didn’t understand, he should ask sooner rather than later, so he couldn’t help but say, “What do you mean?”
Lance: “…”
Misha immediately rejected his own words.
No, saying it like that was far too friendly. It didn’t express his current anger toward the Hero at all. He should be fiercer.
So, Misha raised his voice and shouted angrily, “Who are you calling stupid?!”
Lance: “…”
Lance looked quite helpless.
Lance: “I just said it, but you didn’t seem to hear…”
He intended to repeat himself, but he paused, suddenly realizing that for Misha to speak like this, he must have his own reasons.
Misha was repeatedly probing into matters related to monsters and the Demon King; he must be planning to do something in that regard. As for what exactly… to be honest, Lance was looking forward to it.
So Lance swallowed the rest of his words and deliberately changed it to: “You can think about it carefully.”
Misha: “…”
You’ve already finished talking; it would be a miracle if I could think of it now!
He felt the Hero was teasing him again. He didn’t want to pay it any mind, simply thinking that since the Hero’s answer regarding the Demon King was so ambiguous, he clearly didn’t know about the Demon King System.
This was good news for Misha. He should probe a bit more, and once he was certain, he could carry out his original plan!
Misha ignored the Hero’s comment and moved on to the next question: “Do you… really believe in the oracle about the two Divine Envoys?”
Lance: “…”
He seemed to recall saying he didn’t even believe in gods.
Misha: “But what if the oracle about the two Divine Envoys is fake too?”
Lance: “…”
Doesn’t that sound fake to begin with?
Misha: “Yeah, so I think, actually, your objective might include that detestable Demon King in addition to the Divine Realm.”
Lance: “…”
Lance sighed deeply.
Misha felt the way Lance looked at him was a bit strange, but he couldn’t comprehend the meaning behind that gaze. Not to mention that in the next moment, Lance suddenly reached out and, with that incredibly odd look in his eyes, gently patted Misha’s head.
Misha couldn’t help but frown: “Stop touching me!”
Lance: “…”
Lance only sighed even more deeply.
“Whatever you say,” Lance said. “I think everything you say makes sense.”
Misha: “…”
How perfunctory.
Misha frowned and stared at Lance, feeling that Lance’s attitude was dismissive and strange, as if he had zero interest in what Misha was saying. But fortunately, at least it seemed Lance obviously didn’t know anything related to the Demon King.
That meant Lance didn’t know he was the Demon King.
It was a good thing the Hero’s understanding of the Divine Realm’s Hero System was incomplete. Before they headed to the Royal Capital, he had to find a way to persuade the Hero to give up those unrealistic notions. If the Hero still refused to listen to his guidance, he would reveal his identity as the Demon King, break with the Hero, and ruthlessly break the Hero’s heart, so that the Hero would never forget his mission to fight against the darkness.
At a time like this, he felt somewhat conflicted.
He didn’t want the Hero to truly suffer the punishment of the gods, nor did he want to watch the Hero die. Yet, he couldn’t just betray the Divine Race, with whom he had such a deep connection, just because of a few casual remarks from the Hero.
Misha seemed to have run out of questions.
He stood up, wanting to urge the Hero to leave the Holy Land. They had kept Ismael waiting outside for a long time. If they delayed any longer, Ismael might ride his little gold dragon up to the sky to peek at them. Thinking of that scene, and then thinking of the eerie look in the Hero’s eyes when he stared at that beautiful gold dragon, Misha felt… it was better if they left this place quickly.
So Misha stood up and was about to walk out, but Lance stared at him and suddenly blurted out a sentence.
“Have you… never thought about one thing?” Lance asked. “Since the gods are benevolent and view all living beings in the world as their children, why are the races different, and why is there a distinction between high and low?”
Misha was clearly stunned and couldn’t help but say, “That is the result caused by humans and the various races themselves…”
Lance shook his head.
“You don’t understand what I mean,” Lance said. “I’m not talking about the differences between humans and the various races, but the differences between humans and monsters.”
Misha: “Eh?”
Misha had certainly never considered this question.
His thinking had always been simple. Since the gods needed monsters to act as villains, it seemed quite reasonable to design the monsters to look a bit uglier. Besides, not all monsters were ugly; succubi and dark elves were very beautiful. Apart from them, black dragons were also robust and handsome, and, well, the banshee sisters were pretty too.
So Misha spoke earnestly, refuting him: “Monsters are pretty too.”
Lance: “…”
Sometimes, Lance was truly curious about what exactly went on inside Misha’s head.
Of course, he also understood very well that he wasn’t qualified to question others.
Lance could only explain it to Misha in more detail: “Do you remember the human myths? The human holy scriptures say that when the God King created the world, he took away a part of the monsters’ souls.”
Misha: “…”
Of course Misha remembered. That was a human myth, but it was also something that had actually happened in the Divine Realm.
The God King took a part from the soul of every newly born monster so that in the future, after the monster was killed by the Hero, he could use his divine power to resurrect them. This was something monsters knew from a young age. To them, this was a gift from the gods. If not for this, once they were killed by the Hero, wouldn’t they remain dead forever?
Lance: “But have you thought about exactly what the God King took from the monster souls?”
Misha answered without thinking: “It’s the soul.”
Lance: “…”
Misha scratched his head: “Is there something else?”
“What was taken from the soul was a part that should belong to a normal living being,” Lance said in a low voice. “Restraint, humility, wisdom, reason—all were stripped away by the gods along with the soul. That is why succubi are excessively lustful, dark elves are violent and bloodthirsty, black dragons are obsessed with treasure and beauty, and giants are stupid and dull—”
Misha hurriedly interrupted Lance.
“Wait,” Misha’s eyes widened. “What do you mean by that?”
Was the Hero trying to say… that the part of all monsters that differed from normal people was the gods’ fault?
“You should know better than I do.” Lance stood up as well, seeming to have no intention of saying more. “Haven’t you ever thought about it? Why, from the moment you were born, were you so determined that you would become a…” He paused slightly, then changed his words very naturally, “Become a Divine Envoy.”
Misha: “…”
“You have no doubts, you won’t harbor any suspicions, and you never question the gods’ decisions,” Lance looked straight into Misha’s eyes. “It is because from the very beginning, that piece capable of carrying ‘resistance’ and ‘doubt’ was missing from your soul.”
Misha felt he couldn’t understand Lance’s words.
Or rather, he understood, but he wasn’t willing to understand the implications of those sentences.
He followed behind the Hero, leaving the Elven Holy Land. On the way back, no one spoke. Lance seemed to feel he had said enough, while Misha constantly pondered the last sentence Lance had spoken, repeatedly refuting him in his heart.
Impossible.
The God King took away part of his soul to resurrect him after he was killed by the Hero. This was the God King’s compassionate grace. How could it be… as the Hero said, merely a method to prevent him from doubting and resisting the gods?
But he was forced to doubt.
Once the seed of doubt was planted, it would constantly take root and sprout in his heart. He couldn’t help but feel suspicious, even unable to stop himself from thinking—perhaps what the Hero said was at least partially true.
He had indeed never questioned the gods, nor had he ever thought about why he would become the Demon King.
This was the path the god had chosen for him. He only had to follow the God King’s requirements without any doubt, and he had never had any doubts.
All doubts about the Divine Realm began after meeting Lance.
He started to feel that everything about the gods was slightly strange, vastly different from the gods in his cognition, or rather, the gods portrayed in the human holy scriptures. But he immediately thought, if Lance said the ability to resist and doubt had been taken from him, then why… was he doubting the gods now?
Misha couldn’t help looking at Lance’s back in front of him and blurted out, “I think you’re wrong.”
Lance seemed to know what he was going to ask. Without needing Misha to inquire, he blurted out the answer.
“The soul isn’t like a piece of paper that can be cut casually,” Lance said. “If someone guides it deliberately, or if one becomes aware of it themselves and tries their best to exercise it, they can also restore it to its original, complete state.”
Misha: “…”
Misha almost instantly thought of Zebulun.
Dark elves were supposed to be bloodthirsty and violent. Every one of Zebulun’s clansmen was a terrifying warrior who fought like a mad dog. Only Zebulun was different. He had lived for too many years; he was the oldest dark elf. He had been studying “forbidden arts” not tolerated by the gods. So… had he discovered something too?
They had reached the edge of the Holy Land. Ismael was still waiting outside. Seeing the two come out, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and immediately asked, “Lord Lance, the situation inside—”
Lance: “It was destroyed very thoroughly. It’s hard to tell what broke it.”
Misha: “…”
The Hero was spouting nonsense again, but at this moment, Misha didn’t have much mood or energy to refute him in his heart.
Ismael agreed with Lance’s words. He nodded and said, “When I looked from the sky, I just felt it was a ruin. It was hard to judge the specific cause of the Gate’s damage.”
Lance rarely spoke a few extra sentences of nonsense with Ismael. He nodded and said, “There’s rubble everywhere. We couldn’t find any clues at all.”
Ismael sighed and said, “I understand. You’ve done your best.”
Misha: “…”
Ismael: “I’ve checked the people who have been near here in the past few days, but I haven’t found any suspicious candidates.”
Lance nodded again: “It seems this person is very good at hiding their tracks and aura.”
Ismael: “It seems this investigation is unlikely to yield results.”
Misha: “…”
No, even with a heavy heart, Misha couldn’t stand it anymore.
This Hero! Lying to Ismael was one thing, but how could he praise himself too!
Does he have no shame?!
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