Chapter 335: Goodbye Father, and Goodbye My Weakness (3.34k words)

In fact, based on the turncoat behavior of Hippomenes, the commander of the Beast Disaster subjugation, and the preceding series of riddles,

Lorne had already grown suspicious of the King of Arcadia.

Coupled with the fact that the royal capital fell in the blink of an eye, the answer was already screaming to be noticed.

—Even if the King of Arcadia wasn’t the mastermind, he absolutely could not be separated from this catastrophic mutation!

Although Lorne could have taken it upon himself to decide the King of Arcadia’s life or death, that was, after all, Atalanta’s biological father.

Out of consideration for his student’s feelings, and to avoid leaving a rift between the two of them because of it, he still chose to bring her along specifically, informing her face-to-face of the truth she ought to know.

And next, there was no need for this drama of father and daughter slaughtering each other to be staged; it was better for him, acting as her teacher, to do the job instead.

Just as Lorne made up his mind and prepared to step forward to resolve the out-of-control, mutated King of Arcadia, his shoulder was heavily pressed down by a hand, and a low voice transmitted beside his ear.

"Teacher, let me do it!"

"He is your father..."

"I know."

Atalanta nodded, as she took a deep breath, and calmly looked toward that distorted, bloated figure upon the grand hall.

"But so what?

As a father, he gave birth to me but never raised me; as a monarch, he brought chaos to the people but never loved them...

No matter what identity I face him with, I don’t owe him a single thing!"

"So..."

"I will end him with my own hands!"

Atalanta stepped forward holding the Bow of Heaven, chanting with solemnity.

"Since this catastrophic mutation started from him, let it end right here with him.

Smoothing out the Beast Disaster and seeing him off decently on his final journey, this is the only thing I, acting as a daughter and an Arcadian, can do for him at this very moment."

Hearing this, Lorne showed hesitation.

"Are you sure?"

"Rest assured, I was taught by you and Lady Artemis after all; I’m not that fragile yet."

Atalanta patted her chest, revealing a bright smile, not appearing much affected by the revelation of her identity.

Looking at his student’s resolute eyes, the heart Lorne had been holding high all along the way finally settled steadily, feeling somewhat old-age comforted.

If one were to look for an ethical theme in the Greek Age of Gods, then the "patricide complex" bound to occupy a place.

The gods dismantled the Primordial God Chaos to breed the new birth of the world; Cronus overthrew Uranus to establish the Titan order, and Zeus overthrew Cronus to bring the glory of Olympus...

And in the mortal world of the West, "patricide" was further a latent cultural coming-of-age ritual.

Through "patricide," an individual marched toward independence and autonomy, completing self-metamorphosis.

Of course, this "patricide" didn’t merely refer to killing the father physically, but was also a metaphor for resisting authority and order.

Lorne had originally thought

Atalanta would be trapped by identity recognition and rendered helpless at this critical juncture, so he wanted to do the job personally to sever the shackles upon his student’s body for her.

He didn’t expect that he had underestimated this student of his.

This girl had grown up.

Although the King of Arcadia failed to get a heroic son as he wished, he possessed a daughter who surpassed a multitude of male heroes.

Lorne let out an emotional sigh, not forgetting to leave behind instructions before departing.

"Then be careful yourself. If anything goes wrong, do not push yourself too hard; don’t forget you still have me."

Atalanta nodded gently, watching this teacher of hers cross through the grand hall to walk toward another battlefield.

At this moment, whether it was due to the obsession in his heart or the discussions beside his ear, the mutating King of Arcadia raised his muscle-knotted head.

His turbid eyes looked toward Atalanta on the field as he murmured out loud.

"Daughter? You are that vile spawn? You actually didn’t die?"

"Why? Very surprised? Me too..."

Atalanta let out a sneering shake of her head, looked toward that so-called "father" upon the ground, and spoke seriously.

"Thank you for giving birth to me, but what I should thank even more, is that you abandoned me."

"?"

"He treats me very well, and compared to you, he is far more qualified to be my ’father,’ and far more worthy of me following him."

As she spoke, Atalanta raised her head to look at the figure heading toward another battlefield at the end of the royal palace.

Drawing the Bow of Heaven to full extension, her icy arrowhead pointed right at the tyrant upon the ground as she chanted with solemnity.

"Come on! Don’t let me be delayed for too long, because I don’t want to let him fight on the front lines all by himself."

"Roar!"

The King of Arcadia, who had already gradually lost his human outline, stood up in a violent rage, pouncing toward the daughter who brought him shame and unwillingness.

The battle of father and daughter, king and citizen, ignited right here!

~~

At this very moment, before the astrolabe tower.

A crimson blood rain fell from the sky.

The red-and-black divine fluid burning like magma poured down inside the royal capital, continuously splitting into mycelium-like red-and-black textures, eroding and changing the essence of this land at a speed visible to the naked eye, transforming it into the [Underworld soil].

Countless stampeding deathly breaths and forcedly extracted lights of spirituality aggregated within the sky into a hundred-headed giant dragon, continuously hissing and roaring.

Atop the light-flickering starlight array eyes, one by one the Hermetic followers and Eleusinian followers standing within them had infatuated, fanatical smiles surface upon their faces upon seeing this situation.

Their gazes gradually grew blank and full of awe, as if witnessing the monarch they were to serve.

How deep and dark! How majestic! How invincible!

"O God, rise up!"

As the hearts and minds of the followers shook, they opened their arms like stringed puppets, chanting and cheering in unison as they reverently dedicated everything they possessed to that Lord of the Abyss.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

Dozens of bodies disintegrated and shattered, turning into clouds of blood mist that flowed back up toward the sky above, staining the brilliant starlight into a crimson color.

And at the center of the astrolabe tower, the figure that had bathed in the fresh blood and sacrifices raised both hands to make a grasping motion across the empty space, drawing the starlight and life spirituality aggregated inside the sky straight into his own body as he tilted his head back to let out a thoroughly satisfying, wild laugh.

"Immortal! Immortal!! I am already immortal!!!"

’Swoosh!’

A bloody stream of light tore through the air to arrive, a withered branch-like spear shooting aggressively toward that figure’s face.

Perceiving the danger, a pair of claws covered in red-and-black light-shaped scales immediately met it with all their might.

Accompanied by a sharp clashing sound of metal and iron, that figure was blasted for several dozen meters by the powerful impact attached to the spear shaft.

And the spear also flew backward with a wail, landing into a palm covered in light-shaped fractures.

"Neither human nor ghost, what should I address you as?"

Lorne walked out from within the bloody rain curtain, scrutinizing that half-human, half-dragon humanoid monster covered entirely in red-and-black light-shaped scales as he let out a sneering remark.

"Hippomenes? Or Typhon?"

That Monster Progenitor was no philanthropist.

In order to resurrect, it wouldn’t even hesitate to devour its own progeny, let alone the humans it regarded as ants.

Therefore, from the absolute instant Hippomenes was eroded by Typhon’s divinity, he no longer possessed any room for choice, destined to become the flesh-and-blood vessel for Typhon’s descent.

At this time, that half-human, half-dragon monster let out a look of disdain upon hearing this.

"I am one of the hundred heads. Crushing you ants upon the ground doesn’t require this King to employ full strength yet!"

"The one descending isn’t Typhon’s true self? Then things are much easier to handle..."

Before his voice could fully drop, the light wheel behind Lorne’s back rotated.

Under the triple blessing of the [Goat], the [Flame], and the [White Horse], his body shot forward like a bolt of lightning, the Spear of Nation-Founding in his hand kicking up layers of blazing white light-flames.

The half-human, half-dragon Typhon avatar brandished his dual claws, forming rows of light arcs that ripped through the air as a dense, freezing deathly breath surged over like a tide, attempting to annihilate the oncoming blazing spear edges.

For a time, light patterns flashed chaotically, the marble-paved square shattered inch by inch, and the clanging sounds of metal and iron clashing were endless.

Boom!

After a hundred-odd exchanges, an explosion of muffled thunder rang out.

The ground caved in for several dozen meters, and web-like fractures extended for several kilometers.

As the smoke and dust dissipated, the battlefield where the two sides clashed was exactly like a damage-ridden lunar surface.

The half-human, half-dragon Typhon avatar had his head blown to pieces and his body pierced through the chest by the Spear, pinned against a broken stone pillar like a sunny doll hanging on a tree, swaying slightly.

Although he successfully killed the opponent, Lorne didn’t find it easy either.

A claw strike he took during the engagement left the garments across his chest shattered and fresh blood flowing continuously, several broken ribs exposed outside to the point where the writhing organs within could almost be seen.

Taking a deep breath, Lorne endured the pain to stuff the exposed ribs back into his chest cavity, as he looked up with difficulty, looking darkly toward that headless corpse ahead.

At this time, countless red-and-black light streams containing boundless life force erupted out from within the opponent’s neck, continuously interweaving and fusing to outline the original head outline at a speed visible to the naked eye.

[The Philosopher’s Stone]!

Lorne’s eyes narrowed.

He immediately raised his hand to make a grasping motion across the empty space ahead, driving the authorities of the [Flame] and the [White Horse].

In a flash, blazing white flames enveloped the Typhon avatar’s entire body, roasting his every inch of skin and every wisp of flesh.

Yet even so, that entirely charred body resembling a chunk of charcoal was actually still regenerating and healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

Simultaneously, blood mist exploded in succession upon the streets inside the city, and dozens of Arcadians who had fainted on the ground turned into minced meat.

Lorne’s heart sank, and he couldn’t help but halt his control over the authorities.

And in the blink of an eye, the humanoid charcoal upon the stone pillar shed the black crust on its outer side, revealing a body of fair, newborn flesh and blood, even the blown-apart head restoring to its original appearance.

But pain!

The entire body was in absolute pain!

Accompanied by the stream of flames flowing from the spear shaft, his skin was burning, his bones were groaning, his blood was boiling, and his organs were shivering.

An unprecedented agony flooded wildly into his mind, exactly like thousands of red-hot iron needles piercing into his skull, continuously provoking the Typhon avatar’s nerves.

However, it forcefully suppressed it’s body’s spasms, and looked toward the opponent opposite it with a ferocious smile.

"Heh, you are indeed very strong, but this body contains the life force of tens of thousands of people inside the city. If you want to kill me, unless you let the people inside the city die out completely first!"

Lorne furrowed his brow, feeling quite troubled.

The old gods did not depend on human faith, and were additionally imprisoned at the bottom layer of the Underworld due to the dreamscapes created by humanity.

Therefore, when they took action, they naturally behaved entirely without misgivings, nor did they need to avoid the life or death of humanity.

Typhon was precisely utilizing this point, refining the residents of the entire Arcadian royal capital into his protective amulet.

If a new god wanted to handle him, if they cared about faith, it would inevitably be difficult to act freely out of fear of harming the innocent.

This old fellow was not only powerful but possessed a brain; he was truly worthy of being the Progenitor of All Monsters who had even tricked Zeus.

At this time, the Typhon avatar noticed the opponent’s hesitation.

Sweeping his gaze across the light-shaped fractures almost completely crawling over the opponent’s body, as well as his chest that had failed to heal completely for a long time, he spoke out to mock him.

"From the looks of it, you likely won’t hold out until that time."

"You can try..."

Lorne stepped forward with a stride, straight up rushing toward Typhon without wasting words, seemingly intending to come for a close-quarters combat.

At this moment, seeing the distance between both sides narrowing to within a three-step range, the Typhon avatar pinned against the stone pillar raised his head abruptly, a dense savage light fully revealed within his eyes.

Raising his hand to pull out the Spear of Nation-Founding that pierced through his chest, he tossed it behind his back, his dual claws savagely swinging toward that figure that was within arm’s reach.

’Thinking you can win against me just by getting close? Fool!’

However, the figure ahead seemed to have anticipated it long ago, suddenly accelerating.

Before the bursting Typhon avatar could succeed, he merely felt a sudden wave of the world spinning around.

"Boom!"

At the center of the crater appearing as if struck by a meteorite, that Monster Progenitor avatar had his throat vital area dead-throttled by a fair palm, smashed tragically onto the ground.

"Your reaction is enough, but a pity this body still restricted your performance."

"So what? Can you kill me?"

The Typhon avatar let out a disdainful sneer, his eyes filled entirely with provocation.

Lorne smiled without answering.

His right hand choked that slender neck, tightening it inch by inch as his mouth unhurriedly chanted.

"『Declaration.

I govern slaughter, I govern life.

What I wound, I heal.

That which cannot be bypassed is my palm.

That which cannot be escaped is my gaze.

Entrusted to me, learned from me, obeyed to me..."

Along with the holy chanting voice resembling a ballad, it aggregated into a milky white stream of light, flowing wisp by wisp into the Typhon avatar’s body, bringing an unspeakable burning sensation.

He inexplicably felt the countless red-and-black light streams trapped within his body churning uncontrollably like boiling water, his face instantly changing.

"What did you do?"

"Naturally, it is praying and bestowing blessings upon you..."

Lorne spoke unhurriedly, the smile upon his face becoming increasingly bright.

Acting as a god, driving the masses and guiding the path ahead meant acting as a shepherd.

Acting as a god, maintaining order and executing the frantic meant acting as a legislator.

The image of a deity was often multifaceted.

Aside from combat, praying and comforting spirits were also his old trade.

Beneath the gentle, meaningful ballad, the Typhon avatar inside the crater curled into a heap, sweat pouring down like syrup across his entire body as his body continuously spasmed, his chaotic consciousness growing increasingly turbid, his body, incapable of bearing the load, marching toward the brink of collapse.

’How can it be like this?’

An incredulous thought surfaced within his mind, that painful struggle becoming increasingly intense.

"At the moment of rest, not forgetting the song, not forgetting the prayer, not forgetting me..."

Within the chaos, a faint, holy chanting transmitted beside his ear, exactly like the psalm-singing of the Muses.

"With my lightness, lifting away all heavy burdens..."

Accompanied by a wave of unauthentic detachment sensation, the countless complex voices and consciousnesses within the Typhon avatar’s body drifted and scattered away.

One by one, the churning, terrified souls seemed to cross through the darkness, ascending within the endless brightness to finally steep inside the pure white holy spring, completing the baptism of life.

Warmth, comfort...

They perceived in a daze that the shackles of darkness no longer existed, and their bewildered souls had received guidance.

All bitter pain, all heavy burdens, were wrapped and dissolved by this brightness, this warmth...

In the mystical dark, they seemed to see within the shade of the forest brushed by a gentle breeze, soft spirits of light dancing gracefully around themselves.

The saint strolling across the grassland gently pulled their forearms, humming those syllables resembling a lullaby, leading them to cross through the dark valley of the shadow of death to arrive inside the eternal paradise.

’We seem to have witnessed that shepherd, witnessed that ruler...

O Lord, please have mercy!

The lambs aggregated to the feet of the shepherd, launching calls and pleas for help.

Feeling the countless consciousnesses about to burst through the body, the Typhon avatar was filled entirely with disbelief.

’How is it possible? How could he possess such a powerful soul-commanding authority?’

As the corner of his eye glanced upward, the Typhon avatar saw that black skull mark surfacing across the back of Lorne’s hand, cursing furiously.

’The Mark of the Dead! Dammit, Hades!’

At this time, Lorne looked toward that Typhon avatar who had already been wrapped by the milky white stream of light, unhurriedly chanting the final words of the declaration.

"Eternal life is born from birth, bestowed by death.

Due to your sin, anointed with oil and branded with a mark.

Forgiveness is at the present moment, sealing the oath with my incarnation.

—I shall pity this sorrowful soul!"

The residual rhyme of the divine words echoed beside the Typhon avatar’s ear.

The vast, ocean-like pure white stream of light dissolved and decomposed that "immortal" body inch by inch.

Under the guidance of the brightness, the countless souls trapped within it flowed back toward the city.

"You can’t change anything! Let alone save these ants! I will return, leading the beasts to slaughter and devour your flock completely empty!"

Typhon roared with absolute unwillingness, but along with the collapse of the vessel, his consciousness could ultimately merely be sent back into the boundless darkness of the Underworld along with the washing of the brightness.

Looking at the residual ashes drifting away with the wind upon the ground, Lorne breathed a sigh of relief as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

Grabbing the Spear of Nation-Founding to the side, he slowly ascended the severely broken astrolabe tower, looking out toward the city.

At this time, along with Typhon being re-suppressed, the blood rain had already dissolved away, and all anomalous phenomena no longer existed either.

A blazing red morning sun rose slowly, the faint light of the dawn breaking through the night curtain to spill across the earth.

The city that had originally been immersed within the darkness woke up from its swaddling clothes like a crying infant.

"Wah~~"

A loud cry of an infant transmitted from a certain cradle upon the street; after death, life still bloomed tenaciously.

One by one, figures scrambled back up from the ground like waking from a dream, looking around themselves blankly yet with good fortune.

Lorne witnessed everything before his eyes, a smile revealing upon his face.

"Truly pleasant, praise this joyous life—!"

Amidst his murmuring low whisper, the majestic deity fell down from the high platform.

However, before he fell down on the surface,

A figure rapid as a spiritual cat came running aggressively over, firmly catching the shepherd of the mortal world, the Father God of humanity.

(End of this Chapter)

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