Chapter 2: Hero, Please Save This World!
Qin Chu was dead! His body ripped into four pieces, his soul shattered into countless fragments drifting through every corner of the Celestial Continent. His tattered remnant soul could still clearly see the scenes unfolding in this world.
In the holy city, people were rejoicing. In the palace, nobles celebrated with wine, reveling that no one could shake their power anymore. The city guards hunted down the few who still spoke kindly of the hero. A girl in a wheelchair, mercilessly shot dead, her body convulsing.
…
A wisp of soul drifted to the Supreme Council hall. Qin Chu’s shattered corpse lay before Loseweisse, her beautiful eyes brimming with madness. This despicable man was finally dead. What could be more exciting? “Hero? You’re not worthy! Enjoying the hero’s title for so long was the greatest glory for you. There is only one true hero, no one can replace him.”
They drained every drop of blood from the corpse, leaving only shriveled remains. Even dead, the fragments still held terrible intimidation. Unforgettable – this youth had singlehandedly slaughtered his way into the monster’s lair, tearing apart the Eternal Monarch Nagath and returning bloodied. With one swing of his sword, millions of monsters dared not cross the line he drew on the ground, leaping into the abyss instead. What a magnificent hero! Especially those bulging black eyes filled with rage and hatred – chilling to the core.
“Scatter the torso and limbs to the ends of the earth, the ocean’s edge, the mountain peak, the lake’s heart, the roots of the tree,” Loseweisse’s cold voice rang out after a while.
The ends of the earth, the ocean’s edge – the easternmost and westernmost extremes of the Celestial Continent. The mountain peak was the highest on the continent, headquarters of the Earth Mother Church. The lake’s heart was the center of the boundary lake where the Sacred Church’s sanctuary was built. And the tree was the Tree of Life.
“As for the head…” “Bury it beneath the holy city.” “Let his head endure our, the people’s, trampling for eternity, forever unable to rise again…”
Perhaps only then could she finally be at ease.
…
Another wisp drifted to the streets. An auction house was distributing flyers – today’s highlight was a single drop of the hero’s fresh blood. The flyer even listed the many benefits of the hero’s blood in detail: Spreading it on bread could grant a strong body, immunity to illness and poison, and longevity. Ridiculously, it could even provide beauty and male virility?
…
Another wisp reached the seal grounds. Leaping bonfires illuminated excited faces. Rough soldiers linked arms, dancing around the fires in ethnic dances. For the seal guards, this was a rare good day. Because today, the hero had been executed – and they got a pay raise.
They knew the hero had fought valiantly and was invincible in war.
But that was the age of war. Now, with the monsters sent home and peace reigning, the hero wasn’t as important.
“Hahaha, that hero bastard is finally dead… always found him annoying.” “Yeah, was he the only one fighting monsters? We brothers all fought our way out of battlefields. Why should all the glory go to the hero? Like we didn’t do anything?”
“I heard the hero’s yearly benefits were over a billion mana. Us brothers don’t even get a hundred thousand combined – one tenth of the hero’s?”
“He stopped the Eternal Calamity? Please, that was his duty! He’s the hero, what he was supposed to do. Otherwise why would we summon a hero?”
“Getting special treatment during the Calamity is fine, but the war’s over and he’s still licking that seat? Disgusting.”
“Look at the media praising the hero this, hero that. No one sees our sacrifices and hard work. And really, could we not have won the Calamity without a hero?”
“Pah, our Celestial Continent breeds talents. What Eternal Calamity? We could’ve handled it ourselves, no need for an otherworldly mutt…”
Money is always the best way to buy hearts. Not a single soldier defended the hero or recalled the blood he shed for this world. Their earlier revelry had turned into an apocalyptic disaster. Each regretting their parents didn’t give them an extra pair of legs to run faster. The wine, forgotten. The roast meat, left behind. Crowds scrambled in mobs – trip and fall, and be stampeded by countless footprints.
Widespread, ceaseless silent death – even more terrifying than shredded, mangled corpses. At least with bloodied remains you knew how you died. But here, you didn’t even know the cause of your demise.
The blackish-red miasma – the Dark Witch’s mark. This terrifying witch who had devoured millions was unsealed.
People wailed in terror, screaming with chattering teeth. But no matter how they ran, all they could do was watch the creeping miasma slither over their bodies, instantly stealing their lives as screams cut off. Some were so utterly petrified, bodies frozen on the ground, trembling lips pale as the miasma consumed them.
“Run, the witch is here!” “Get out of the way, dammit!”
“How was the witch unsealed? The seal was supposed to be solid!”
“Wahhhh, mommy, I don’t want to die! Someone save me!”
“Who? Who can deal with the witch?”
“The hero? Where’s the hero? Hero, come protect us!”
Ah, they forgot. The hero, he was already dead.
Qin Chu’s remnant soul silently watched, imagining the maniacal laughter if he still had a body. The bloody mist kept spreading, farther and farther. Who knew where it had drifted?
The witch’s life was also nearing its end, her slender form turning semi-transparent. She spat out a mouthful of fresh blood, face growing paler.
On the ground, the witch’s body swayed as she raised her head to the sky, as if able to see Qin Chu’s lingering soul fragment.
The witch raised her staff high and stabbed it into the earth with a squelch. In the next instant, the surrounding bloody mist suddenly contracted into a massive vortex emanating powerful suction force. Qin Chu’s shattered soul fragments from every corner of the continent were pulled in and devoured by the vortex.
Just before his consciousness faded to black, he heard Shub-Niggurath’s ethereal voice: “Sacrificing billions of souls…”
…
An unknown time later, Qin Chu’s consciousness suddenly awakened. Who am I? Where is this? What happened?
This seemed to be a mountaintop – bare, without a single tree. Silvery moonlight illuminated the stone slabs in a pale white glow as the night wind howled.
He was still a bit dazed!
“Success, we’ve summoned the hero again.” The familiar voice made Qin Chu feel irritated. He found himself standing on an altar, surrounded by twelve half-buried old coffins and a beauty around thirty years old.
The Thirteen Sages?
Seeing Qin Chu standing dazed on the altar, the youngest sage Natiya stepped forward and took his hands in hers. Looking up into the man’s eyes with her large, watery ones, she pleaded, “Hero, please, save this world!”
Qin Chu’s eyes widened as he flung Natiya’s hands away and cursed, “Save? Save your sister…”
