Novel Full Chapter 347: Miquella
Chapter 347: Miquella
With the Ruination approaching, Godfrey planned to bring down as many dungeons as possible before the Ruination gates arrived.
Because then, many people would not have the opportunity to deal with these other gates, which might lead to countless deaths.
This was the prelude to a catastrophe. If he didn’t prepare, both he and Isolde would be capped at this tier.
That was the reason he sent his knights to clear as many dungeons as possible.
While this was what he had in mind, Godfrey didn’t expect this.
He and the old man watched from outside as Sarah, who lay on a bed, woke up, turned, and saw Mountain in her room. They had to put her in the biggest room with a lofty ceiling that could contain his towering frame.
Sarah blinked, then burst into tears as she scrambled towards Mountain, wrapped her arms around his thigh, and bawled her eyes out.
Godfrey knew she was just a nine-year-old child, but she looked nineteen. It felt weird to him, as if time itself had betrayed her.
The old man smiled, his wrinkles deepening. “Truly, hard times make boys men. You have a temperament beyond your age. Thank you for this.”
Godfrey looked at him from the corner of his left eye but said nothing. What was there to say?
The old man looked at Sarah, smiled, then slowly lifted his head toward the sky.
“Do you know I’ve lived before this world became what it is now? Back then, people were — how will I put it… normal. Then, money commanded all, and everything people wanted for status was wealth.”
Godfrey raised an eyebrow. “I did hear about it being peaceful. This confirms it.”
The old man chuckled gently. “Peaceful? Was it truly? Different times, different conflicts. Illnesses such as cancer, and some which weren’t that known, killed a great number of people. There were also accidents, but now people rarely die from being hit down by a car; most get saved by their summons. Illnesses have lost their power over humanity. The world simply adapted. Illnesses and the other causes of death were replaced with dungeons, which take nearly as much, if not more, annually.”
He gently tapped his stick on the ground.
“Back then, a good ratio of people disliked politicians and criticised the super wealthy, until you became one yourself. Be poor, and you’ll always be seen as inferior. Be rich, and you’ll be admired. But become something more than a casually rich man? simply wealthy Well… thousands have a say in your life. The only advice for people at that stage is one thing… just don’t fall.”
Godfrey squinted.
The old man turned to him.
“Well, that’s just this old man’s perspective. At least, on average, you don’t have to worry about beasts showing up to eat you alive or worry about your life being dependent on something you can’t control, like a summon. But then again, for a hundred years no country has fought another. The overall trust the public has toward the government is high. The average man is more taken care of because of dungeon businesses. It brought a lot of jobs. Yet… vile people still exist, good people still exist. Time changed, but humans didn’t. We just adapted on the surface, but our core remains the same.”
“How old are you exactly?” Godfrey turned to face the old man.
The old man laughed weakly. “Me? Just a hundred and forty-two.”
Godfrey’s eyes slowly widened. This man was a living relic of the age before the apocalypse.
The old man turned and began to walk.
“Why did you tell me all that?” Godfrey asked.
The old man paused, then sighed.
“You see, by this world’s standards, I’m below mediocre. Back in the old world, I was just a storyteller who couldn’t make it to being an author. So I was still mediocre, but I’m quite perceptive. You’ve grown strong, too strong, like a young multi-billionaire in the old world’s terms of being amongst the best. I can feel that I stand in the presence of a supreme existence.”
He looked at Godfrey.
“This can only mean you have enemies. You know the rich and the poor experience pain, but one experiences more over the same situation. Guess who?”
Godfrey didn’t reply. The old man didn’t even want him to.
But Godfrey knew the answer. It was the rich.
With all they had… Why? Why did they have to feel that pain? Why couldn’t their wealth take care of it?
The poor, on the other hand, would blame his lack of wealth. One had something to look forward to, but the other had nothing, because to him, everything was right here, yet this problem couldn’t be solved.
He just went through this pain.
But his dream, his ambition, his goal was to become an uncontainable being, an apex even amongst apex entities, the endgame.
That’s what he wanted. Why?
To rid himself of this vulnerability, to get rid of this control, to stop the pain.
For at that unfathomable level was where rest awaited him.
There, he would have no need to kill. His name would scare gods, no matter their tier.
To ensure absolute rest and peace, there must be absolute strength.
To him, this was just logic.
Was he flawed? Probably.
But was this world flawed? Definitely.
Godfrey knew. Being strong wasn’t enough in this universe. Being too strong wasn’t anything, you were just one of that class in the numerous worlds.
In order to get to that rank, he would have to beat every other established tier and sit on one that would be the definition of him.
A tier with the name King Godfrey.
Until then… he wasn’t done.
But seriously… would this girl stop hugging his summon? And why wasn’t Mountain doing anything about this?! The absurdity almost broke the weight of his thoughts.
Godfrey left the window to the front of the orphanage, where the old man had gone.
The moment he got there, his eyes went to the woman who had just arrived at the gate.
It was Miquella, the judge summoner, and the same woman who framed him for being her fiancé’s killer worldwide.