Chapter 210

Chapter 210
## Chapter 210

For Worse (2)

A gentle gust drifted past, and the ambient warmth wrapped around him entirely.

Perhaps this mirrored the sensation of a newborn resting within its mother’s embrace.

The flawless feeling of safety and completeness enveloping his form held a lethal allure.

Had he rallied his wandering thoughts and fortified his inner drive, he might have broken free, but no such requirement presented itself, and…

He surrendered to the sweet pull, sinking heavily into the depths of it.

As he drifted along the currents of his own mind, entirely detached from the passage of hours…

“…Harris! Are you alright?”

His consciousness gradually tethered itself back to his physical form as external voices pulled at him repeatedly.

“Is something weighing on you? I suspected as much before, but it feels remarkably severe these days. Nearly perilous.”

“Ah…”

Harris, who had been resting beneath the canopy of a hillside tree as was his routine, parted his eyelids slightly to observe the figure addressing him.

Tumbling azure tresses paired with eyes the color of a deep lake.

It was Shapiron Silvesty, the Elf youth with whom he had formed a bond following a series of past occurrences.

Yet because he merely offered a blank stare upon waking, she tilted her head in confusion before giving a firm nod, as though reaching a conclusion.

“Hmm, indeed! Mastering the protocols of a High Elf must be quite a grueling task. Then again, I have been instructed in those ways since my earliest years, so it will present no challenge to me!”

She lifted her shoulders slightly, her tone carrying a hint of pride.

“Hehehe, you had best stay on your guard, Harris! The moment I ascend to a High Elf, I will overtake you instantly! I have already engaged in numerous mental rehearsals, so my readiness is absolute.”

“………”

Naturally, her grand fantasies amounted to nothing if the World Tree refrained from choosing her, but Harris held his tongue, choosing the path of a mature companion.

…In truth, the sheer effort required to speak was simply too much for him to bear.

She, however, appeared to misread his silence entirely.

Her voice cut off abruptly as she attempted to read his underlying disposition, before she spoke up once more with a hesitant tone, her fingers twitching nervously.

“I-I only meant… do not lose heart… To be sure, achieving this level of advancement after starting with absolutely nothing is truly remarkable. A-and…”

“Ahaha—.”

A soft laugh escaped him, prompted by her clumsy attempt at offering reassurance.

From the very moment of their initial encounter, he was well aware that her pride ran exceptionally deep.

She was merely lacking in maturity, harboring no malice whatsoever.

Furthermore, it provided a sense of comfort that she continued to treat him without pretense, even after he had achieved the status of a High Elf ahead of her, a milestone that could easily have fostered an uncomfortable distance between them.

It was a connection he cherished deeply, particularly when his sudden elevation in rank had left him with scarcely any intimate companions in this place.

Through extended interactions with Shapiron, he had likewise mastered the art of managing her temperaments.

The most reliable approach to lifting her spirits whenever she fell into a sullen mood, much like this instance, was…

Swoosh—

Harris shifted his arm languidly, dipping into his dimensional storage device before extending his hand toward her position.

Clutched in his fingers was a small container radiating a rich, toasted aroma.

Sniff, sniff—

“Ah! Is that popcorn? My thanks!”

The hesitant scrutiny vanished instantly as she claimed the offering, taking a seat right beside him and unsealing the package.

‘She consumes it without a second thought now.’

Harris offered a faint nod, observing her quietly enjoy the snack.

In the past, receiving food from him would evoke a highly self-conscious display, but countless repetitions had brought her to a point where she received his spontaneous offerings as a matter of course.

It brought to mind the process of coaxing a feral feline with small treats…

‘Merely a trick of my mind, surely.’

He kept his gaze on Shapiron for a brief interval before forcing his frame upright, summoning what remained of his suppressed determination.

“Ugh.”

Every physical exertion felt burdensome now that the automatic compliance governing his physique had dissolved.

Overcoming the profound lethargy brought on by his deep attunement to the natural world required sheer mental fortitude.

Fortunately, his internal resolve had expanded significantly, granting him the capacity to exert himself as before whenever he willed it.

The difficulty lay in how quickly he reverted to this sluggish, inactive state the moment a lull in activity presented itself.

‘Still… that sensation from moments ago… ’

Remaining seated, Harris adjusted his posture and directed his gaze toward the grand silhouette of the World Tree.

The monumental bark expanded across his field of vision like an impenetrable barricade.

‘As I suspected, that was no trick of the mind.’

He had undeniably perceived the intent of the World Tree while dissolved within the natural environment, blending into his surroundings.

The impression remained obscured by an unknown veil, yet the core meaning hovered just within his grasp.

‘Ah, what a tedious affair. Yet it is not something I can simply disregard.’

With a trace of reluctance, he pushed himself to his feet and marshaled his internal natural energy, keeping his eyes locked onto the World Tree.

Simultaneously,

Whoosh—!

The air fractured with a sudden drafts, and a luminous, ethereal avian form materialized.

Pascal, the Advanced Wind Spirit, manifested within a swirling vortex of air.

This was the third spirit bounded to Harris.

“Hmm?… Harris?”

Harris looked down at Shapiron, whose eyes blinked in rapid succession as she rushed to clear the food from her mouth, while he allowed the currents directed by Pascal to hoist his frame gently skyward.

“Ah— a pressing matter has suddenly come to mind. My apologies, Shapiron, but I must take my leave.”

“Understood! Proceed without delay!”

With that brief parting to the girl who waved back while cradling the snack container, he soared through the air toward the massive form of the World Tree.

His intention was to consult the senior High Elves beforehand, purely as a precaution.

‘Huh? Yet this method of travel far exceeds the ease of walking. The initial invocation requires effort, but once the state is fixed… ’

Inevitably, his baseline desire for minimal exertion remained entirely intact.

—

Within a realm where the dividing lines of existence became indistinct and tangled—a domain defined by unfamiliar elements and absolute disorder.

A lone entity strode forward with unhurried steps, moving as though enjoying a casual walk, completely unbothered by the chaotic surroundings.

“Thus far, every piece is falling into its proper position.”

Within this domain, gravity was absent, solid earth did not exist, air was lacking, and even orientation and the progression of moments were warped, yet…

None of these anomalies posed the slightest challenge to him.

‘…Perhaps I ought to have initiated this design much earlier?’

The individual—the Revolutionary, progenitor of the Oath of Heaven’s Defiance and the chosen instrument of the ‘God of Humans’—peered through the numerous fissures scattered across the void, analyzing the state of affairs with a satisfied nod.

He had orchestrated events to culminate in this exact pattern, though he had remained vigilant against potential failures born of unforeseen disruptions…

‘An excellent outcome. Even the tracking hound has commenced the slaughter of its own lineage.’

He shifted his head, training a calculating gaze upon a specific crevice that radiated an unusual luminescence.

A shadowy form loomed indistinctly, charting a course toward a monumental organism that stretched toward the highest heavens.

‘The World Tree serves as both the foundational pillar and the origin source of the Enamel Continent. Should its stability fracture, the entirety of the landmass will crumble.’

That vegetation, functioning essentially as an extension of divinity made manifest upon the earth, was a truly formidable entity.

It was, after all, the singular influence of the World Tree that transformed what originated as a mere isolated island into the vast continent observed today.

However, by anchoring itself to this terrestrial sphere through a mortal vessel, the World Tree had simultaneously accepted severe vulnerabilities, most notably a heightened susceptibility to the laws of retribution compared to higher divinities.

This precise limitation had prevented him from delivering an exact location for Cecily to his loyal retainers, despite her status as a prospective High Elf.

And this exact vulnerability could be weaponized in alternate fashions.

…Even in a manner capable of dealing a mortal blow to the World Tree itself.

‘Obaifo’s operations are likewise proceeding smoothly. Those crossbred anomalies that emerged without warning present a slight nuisance, but defensive measures are prepared, ensuring they pose no true obstacle.’

His attention drifted toward a separate rupture in the void.

Truthfully, the state of the vampires left him somewhat dissatisfied.

In stark contrast to the Lycanthropes, who proved relatively simple to press into service, the vampires had woven themselves deeply into the fabric of mortal civilization, and their leadership remained fragmented and at odds, diminishing their collective strength.

Consequently, his initial overtures had been directed at the Ufersh Clan, the preeminent faction, which coincided with the period when Visque Ufersh had newly claimed the mantle of the Sacred Blood.

Regrettably, that youthful vampire was consumed by vanity and flatly refused to heed his guidance.

‘I assumed I had managed their isolation… yet they have chosen this moment to form an alliance?’

The Revolutionary let out a sharp sound of disapproval, his brow furrowing.

This unified front brought him no joy, as his grand design dictated that every Lycanthrope and vampire existing across this world should bow to his dictates.

“…Tsk, such short-sighted simpletons, incapable of recognizing the true representative of the Creator.”

It was a piece of history forgotten even by those who carried it, but their genesis set them entirely apart from the alternate non-human lineages.

Indeed, how could a collective incapable of organic procreation, relying solely on the transmission of their affliction to expand their ranks, ever be classified as an authentic living race?

They existed merely as an inferior strain engineered by the God of Humans, who had crossbred mortal stock with entities harvested from outer domains.

They were, for all practical purposes, illegitimate creations.

Subsequently, the God of Humans suffered banishment into the darkest trenches, stripped of every ounce of dominion, while every tie binding him to them was utterly severed.

‘…Baltheon’s performance is exceeding my initial projections as well. I harbored minor doubts when I introduced the corruption.’

His gaze swept across the remaining fractures.

The Tribal Federation dominating the southern territories drew closer to finalizing its structural overthrow, while simultaneously, highly volatile currents were taking shape deep within the Empire.

A conspiracy engineered by a rival faction sought the elimination of the princess, who had secured the primary position in the line of succession after displacing the former Crown Prince.

Should every single thread unravel precisely as orchestrated…

‘The authority of the Holy See will fracture, and the current alliance forged between nations will disintegrate entirely.’

A sudden wave of yearning washed over him for the historic stratagems that had been brought to ruin before fruition, yet the current array of variables possessed more than enough force to throw every territory into absolute turmoil.

Amidst such fragile conditions, the introduction of internal friction would yield an entirely predictable devastation.

‘The scenario would achieve perfection if the Immortal King joined the fray. The communication was delivered flawlessly, yet his mobilization lags behind my expectations. I anticipated his advance by this juncture.’

The Revolutionary let out a weary breath when his survey of the fissures failed to yield the desired sight, choosing to shut his physical perception away.

Instead, he turned his full concentration toward his auditory senses,

Catching the muffled declarations of the world filtering through the cosmic divide.

[email protected]%$^&

-&!#$#%^*%

Dissonant echoes resembling shifting sands resounded from every direction.

The collective consciousness of the beings populating the earth, the core resonance of creation itself.

Yet despite the immense amplification his capabilities received within this intermediate domain, deciphering every detail through passive monitoring remained impossible.

Nevertheless, one reality stood out with absolute clarity…

‘Ah, a monumental shift approaches. Perhaps a minor adjustment on my part is warranted?’

Parting his eyelids once more, a dark smile crossed his features as he nodded,

Extending his arm to the empty space beside him—his fingers closing securely around an object that materialized instantly.

Squirm— Squirm—

The Seed of Madness thrashed violently in a desperate bid to break free from his grip, yet…

The Revolutionary paid no heed to its struggles, parting his lips to issue a definitive decree.

“———.”

In the immediate aftermath,

Rumble—

Deep within the darkest chasms, entities stirred awake by the dark resonance flowing from the artifact began to ascend in rapid succession,

While the predatory beasts across the length of the continent altered their behavior in perfect alignment, swayed by the invisible ripples surging through the cosmic tears.

‘This measure should suffice.’

The essence of madness occupied the lowest tiers of abyssal remnants, yet it offered unparalleled ease of governance.

This stood in direct opposition to the concept of death, an element he was forced to deploy recklessly like an unguided explosive, abandoning any hope of regulation while waiting for the dust to settle.

His choice to instigate the proliferation of madness from the start was guided entirely by that tactical determination.

“It remains quite irritating to be deprived of my sense of scent.”

The Revolutionary offered a muted complaint, settling into a relaxed posture now that the supplementary tasks were finalized.

While operations on this front proceeded flawlessly, the parallel objective yielded no advancements whatsoever, despite a protracted period of monitoring.

‘To think he persists through these trials? His capacity for survival is remarkable, given the sheer weight of his misfortune. If his precise coordinates were clear to me, I would handle the execution personally.’

He had reasoned the individual would have perished amidst the surrounding devastation…

It appeared he had found refuge within an exceptionally secure haven.

Furthermore, given that a comprehensive investigation into the elite echelons of the continent yielded no trace of his presence, he clearly occupied no station of prominence.

It was entirely possible he lingered in a condition where cessation of life would be preferable, owing to his wretched circumstances.

“…A time will come when he is exposed, whether dragged into the light by the impending strife or perishing silently in some forgotten corner.”

That remained the boundary of his current capabilities.

He lamented the absence of his tracking scent, though it presented no immediate crisis.

The grand design moved forward without a single hitch.

—

Tarak, a sprawling metropolis situated within the northwestern territories of the landmass.

“Achoo~! Ugh.”

A young woman, balancing a dense collection of parchment in her arms, wrinkled her nose slightly before resuming her hurried pace down the thoroughfare.

‘Should I secure some crispy delicacies on my path back this evening? Rafi favors them immensely.’

Her mind harbored only these lighthearted considerations, completely devoid of a single apprehension.