Chapter 937 - No One Can Measure the Future
No one can measure the future. Nobody truly knows what is to come. Prophets alter the future simply by speaking of it; if they stay silent, they cannot prove their foresight. All prophets are ultimately deceivers trading in falsehoods, for the future is inherently variable. It shifts. It changes. Therefore, what lies ahead remains forever unknowable.
'Ominous.'
Right before Rem spoke, he glimpsed the road ahead. It was no grand prophecy, but his hyper-acute senses, honed on a foundation of shamanism, were churning wildly. For a fleeting second, feeling like a deceiver himself, he peered into tomorrow.
***
A pitch-black shadow blotted out the sky. High above, a mass of darkness coalesced, unfurling massive wings before taking flight. A monstrosity larger than a house swooped down upon the city, and the descendants of Elder Bear fought desperately against it.
'Everyone dies.'
They all died. The Purple Demonic Human that had previously emerged from Silence wielded a plague-like curse as a weapon. Merely approaching it caused flesh to rot. They had barely managed to kill the bastard after fighting for three days and nights, wrapped tightly in shamanic wards. That battle alone had demanded the sacrifice of countless Westerners hailed as heroes.
Before that, there had been a short-legged, lizard-like abomination. It only had to swing its single tail. That alone slaughtered more heroes than the Purple Demonic Human. The Demonic Human had killed the most Westerners, but the 'Tail Needle' had killed the greatest hero of the West.
What about this time? It was a draconic nightmare soaring through the sky, spewing black smoke.
'Things that haven't happened yet.'
Rem knew none of this had actually occurred. That was why the words had tumbled out of him so abruptly.
"We have to go in."
If something was preparing to emerge, he needed to strike first. Elder Bear was a ten-day ride from here on a Vellopter. A winged beast would cross that distance in no time—and his wife and child lived there. Ayul, and Kio.
'Kio.'
A name carrying a dual meaning.
One was derived from Utkiora—the twilight waiting for the light torn from the dawn.
The other meant an embracing light.
It didn't signify a harsh radiance that violently pushed away the dusk, but a gentle glow that embraced everything within it.
It wasn't just Ayul and Kio.
Right now, he carried a mountain of things to protect on his back. It was why he fought.
"An end to the war. Eradicating fighting and wiping out all Demonic Realms is my dream."
Hadn't he been drawn to Enkrid precisely because of those words?
Rem tightened his grip on his axe and took a step. I
n that brief fraction of a second, right before his boot struck the earth, his mind's eye flashed. He saw a pitch-black sphere bisected by a vertical yellow line.
'An eye?'
That was his first thought. The yellow line parted. Inside, another pitch-black pupil stared back. The vertically slit eye fixated on him. Staring. Watching. Scrutinizing every fiber of his being. A primal warning tore through his mind. The entity was studying him. It was trying to dissect and comprehend him.
'What are you?'
He focused his mind and demanded. His shamanic power reacted, shrouding him in a dense gray aura. No answer came. Thud. The moment his foot hit the soil, the illusion vanished.
'You want to go, then?'
Rem felt Silence beckoning him. He hadn't planned on fighting a Demonic Realm today, but if push came to shove, he would. His resolve soared; his will was absolute. He took another step. Right now, nothing could stop him. Gray flames ignited in his eyes as his overflowing shamanic power visibly manifested.
The uneasiness that had festered while watching the ochre earth fade to black morphed into visceral dread upon reaching the Demonic Realm.
Dunbakel subtly slid her right foot back, repulsed by a sensation that made her skin crawl. It was pure instinct.
'What is this place?'
The trees were a sickly gray, and the dark brown rocks resembled the freshly extracted intestines of a living creature. The entire landscape was a grotesque nightmare. Amidst it all, a faintly creeping black fog writhed, seemingly trying to box them in. It felt like a deliberate, malicious intent waiting to snatch them the second they crossed the threshold.
'I feel filthy.'
It reminded her of a beast in the East known as a 'Spike Trap'—the very thing that had nearly killed her the moment she first arrived there. A Spike Trap burrowed underground, collapsing the earth beneath its prey before devouring whatever fell in. Incapable of pursuit, it was a highly venomous predator that never let go once its jaws snapped shut. Lacking a vital spot, the only way to kill it was to haul its entire massive bulk out of the dirt and burn it alive.
'What a disgusting memory.'
Dunbakel violently shook off the thought and focused on her surroundings. The black clouds suffocating the sky looked like the concentrated soot of an entire burning forest.
'Clouds of a Demon God.'
She had seen a similar phenomenon in the East, but the stench here was entirely different. If she had to categorize them, the East reeked of stale urine, while the South smelled of raw iron and acrid ash.
'A stagnant, rotting stench.'
This place was dominated by decay. A putrid stench so overwhelmingly thick it pierced her brain, making the other two realms pale in comparison. It was the reason she had grown so quiet during the journey. To be fair, none of them had spoken much, their sixth senses collectively screaming at the oppressive atmosphere.
"This is no ordinary situation," Juol muttered.
Both Dunbakel's primal instincts and logical reasoning screamed that entering was a death sentence.
'The only right move is to get as far away from here as possible.'
She decided turning tail and fleeing was the only sane option. Then, she too saw the hallucination. The pitch-black sphere with the yellow slit. The exact same eye Rem had witnessed. Dunbakel held her breath. Like a cornered rabbit, she tensed every muscle, fully prepared to bolt at a moment's notice. The hallucinated eye merely observed her, then vanished.
'I am backing out right now.'
Dunbakel cemented her decision. This wasn't a matter of swallowing her fear. This was an entity one simply did not engage. She was certain of it.
Enkrid experienced the same vision. The landscape of his mind opened, revealing the elongated yellow slit within the black circle. The scrutinizing eye studied him. While Rem demanded its identity and Dunbakel readied herself to flee, Enkrid was only mildly surprised.
"Did I fall asleep standing up?" he asked.
The target of his question shifted. The Ferryman casually stepped out from behind him. Why was the Ferryman appearing here? The question slipped out naturally.
"Halfway. Because that thing willed it."
The voice was bright, high, and crystal clear. The hood concealing the Ferryman's face slid back. The lantern in her hand stretched into a long spear, and her flowing robe condensed into heavy plate armor. Enkrid was by no means short, but the woman standing beside him was a full head taller. The Ferryman's signature purple aura trailed across her armor like fine glowing dust. Her eyes burned a vivid, piercing green, and the blonde hair braided down her back shimmered as if woven from pure light.
"I told you we'd see each other again, didn't I?" the Ferryman asked, keeping her gaze locked forward.
It was the exact same appearance she had taken when she informed him he had only lived through 'today' eleven times.
"I thought I had put an end to all of this. Choose the correct answer, kid."
The first sentence was murmured with bitter self-deprecation; the command that followed was aimed squarely at him. With those parting words, the illusion rapidly dissolved. Leaving the fading phantom behind, Enkrid found himself staring down an eye as massive as a human body.
'The correct answer?'
Enkrid couldn't care less whether the giant eye was watching him. He was entirely preoccupied with the Ferryman's warning. Normally, he would have brushed it off as just another manipulative trick, but not this time. He had suspected it before, but recently, the Ferryman's interventions felt less like sabotage and more like twisted guidance. And if it was a trap? He'd just suffer the consequences again. But he wasn't going to cower in fear. He would walk the path he believed was right.
The mental landscape shattered, snapping his half-drifting consciousness back to reality. The massive eye simply observed him one last time before receding into the void. Blinking his real eyes, Enkrid remembered the nightmare. The dream the Ferryman subjected him to was always identical: trapped on a fog-choked bridge with zero visibility, violently forced to make a choice.
"Whatever is lurking in there, I'm going to end it," Rem growled.
"...I am absolutely not going in there," Dunbakel stated from behind.
Their wills fundamentally clashed.
"We should retreat and warn the others first," Juol offered as a compromise.
Enkrid held his tongue. This was the branching point.
'What happens after I make my choice?'
He wouldn't be Enkrid if he hadn't learned anything from repeating the same day ad nauseam. His most recent cycles had been particularly unforgettable.
'If I had made one wrong turn...'
Instead of fighting on, he would have been doomed to repeat a 'today' where he died pathetically in a bed. The Ferryman's twisted desire for his endless demise would have been realized.
'Gerr. Pete.'
The names of his fallen comrades pierced his memory. The dead do not return, and spilled water cannot be gathered.
'Choices breed consequences.'
Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Enkrid pushed his cognitive processing to its absolute limit, simulating the immediate future.
'What if I enter with Rem?'
Will it all end if we kill the source? On paper, it was a simple equation. It looked like the optimal path. Accompany Rem and leave Dunbakel stationed outside. If any monsters slipped past them, Dunbakel would intercept them. The command was practically already on his tongue.
"Rem and I are going in. Dunbakel, you hold the perimeter."
Rem nodded in agreement, and Dunbakel looked relieved. Enkrid crossed into the Demonic Realm alongside Rem. But while they were gone, a monster burst out of the perimeter. It wore a hood woven from clumped soot, its gray skin stitched together in a grotesque mockery of humanity. It had a humanoid frame, but its face was a blank canvas of stretched skin hidden beneath the cowl.
The moment the bastard emerged, it locked onto Dunbakel.
Dunbakel screamed.
"Aaaaaaaargh!"
Black flowers erupted across her flesh. Consumed by madness, she resolved to slaughter the parents who had discarded her, her mind drowning in pure, unadulterated hatred for the world.
'Kill them all.'
She had always been uniquely vulnerable to mind-altering magic.
She had grown stronger, but this strike had bypassed her defenses and pierced her deepest trauma.
Everyone had a weak point.
If someone capable of grounding her had been there, the outcome might have changed.
But there was only Juol.
"What's wrong with—"
Juol's question was cut short as his head sailed into the air.
His headless corpse remained standing, a fountain of blood painting the dirt.
Dunbakel's blade had cleanly severed his neck.
With the murder of a simple Westerner who only dreamed of opening a restaurant, a true Demonic Human was born.
Then, the entire vision blurred, crumbling into blowing sand.
Blink.
Enkrid snapped back. His grip on reality stabilized.
'A hallucination.'
The vision had played out in the split second before he voiced his command. His lips were parted, his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth, a fraction of a breath away from calling Rem. Enkrid snapped his mouth shut. Rem was practically vibrating with the urge to charge, waiting for the order. Dunbakel was equally tense, poised to step back the moment he gave the word.
'What if I send Rem alone, with strict orders to retreat if it gets too dangerous?'
He could plan their next move based on his recon. Another hallucination seized him. He stayed behind with Dunbakel and intercepted the hooded monster aiming for her psyche. Her mind began to fracture, soot clinging to her skin. Enkrid quickly intervened.
"I heard the liquor brewed from the Tree of Paradise is unimaginably sweet."
At those words, Dunbakel licked her lips, clarity rushing back into her eyes. She instantly cleaved the hooded monster in half.
"Who's brewing it?" she demanded.
If anyone asked who the biggest drunk in the Madmen Knights was, the answer was indisputable. It was Dunbakel. She cherished alcohol even more than food. If someone mentioned a rare vintage, she lost her mind. Whenever Rem demanded she hand over a bottle, she would viciously attack him, grab the booze, and bolt.
"Juol is."
"I am?"
Juol stammered, his face a perfect picture of 'I never agreed to this.'
But the hallucination relentlessly marched on.
Rem had entered the Demonic Realm alone. At some point, his connection to the natural world was abruptly severed, and the entire corrupted forest turned against him. He unleashed every shamanic spell in his arsenal, but Rem's fatal flaw was his stamina. Compared to an average knight, his endurance was monstrous, but his true specialty was explosive, short-term annihilation. He faced a horde of nightmarish beasts. Wave after grueling wave denied him a single breath. Despite securing impossible victories through acrobatic sheer will...
'He fights until his lungs burn, and then...'
He dies. Meanwhile, the Demonic Realm continued to spawn mind-flaying aberrations specifically hunting Dunbakel. Enkrid was paralyzed on the bridge. He couldn't leave his post. He couldn't reach Rem. The hallucination crumbled into dust.
"Now, who will you kill?"
The Ferryman's mocking whisper echoed in his ears. Sending Rem in meant Rem's death. Leaving Dunbakel behind meant Dunbakel's death. The moment he recognized the unwinnable paradox, the cold sweat brought on by his agonizing dilemma dried up.
'Was she actually trying to warn me?'
If the Ferryman hadn't subjected him to those nightmares, what would he have done? He didn't know. Enkrid chose the exact same answer he had given in every single nightmare.
"You come to me."
That was what he had yelled into the fog at the figures trapped on either side of the bridge. Harboring that exact same conviction, the Enkrid of reality broke his silence.
"Rem, hold your ground. Dunbakel, do not run. If I catch you fleeing, I'll beat you senseless."
The words were framed as a threat, but beneath the rough delivery lay an unbreakable foundation of trust. He was telling them to believe in him.
"Trust me."
At those two words, Rem extinguished his burning resolve and planted his feet. Dunbakel was flooded with an unprecedented sense of security. Back in Oara, Enkrid had to buy their trust with blood and action. Now, he didn't need to prove a thing.
They were the Madmen Knights.
They were his people.
"Standby."
Enkrid had stopped on the bridge and reached out his hand to both sides.
Do I have to be the one to cross?
The answer was No.
You just have to come to me.
Gripping their loyalties and ordering them to hold the line was exactly the same.
"Fine, whatever," Dunbakel sighed, relaxing her stance.
Rem stayed his axe, even after witnessing the horrific premonition of his city, his wife, and his child burning to ash.
"What's the plan?" Rem's battle frenzy rapidly cooled, replaced by a profound sense of relief.
"I don't know," Enkrid answered bluntly.
He meant it literally. He had no grand strategy. Because no one could measure tomorrow. No one could truly predict the future. But no matter what monstrosity clawed its way out of the fog, one thing was absolute.
"Whatever comes out of there, I have no intention of letting it slip past my back."
He would plant his feet, block it, and slaughter it right here. If splitting up meant death, then they simply wouldn't split up.
"That works for me," Rem grinned.
It was the best answer he could have asked for.
***
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