I knew my master was strong. Enough to be undeniable.
How could I not? I saw it with my own eyes—him fighting that Soul King for a staggering hundred years. How could I possibly remain ignorant of that strength?
I saw him shatter the barrier surrounding the Soul King—the wall that rejects all external conceptual interference—with a single fist.
I saw him take the Light of Eradication, which denies existence itself, with his bare body and shake the very foundations of the world with a single punch.
That was why I was afraid. That was why I grew to loathe him.
The Soul King was terrifying because he had strayed so far from humanity.
But my master… he was terrifying because he felt so intensely human.
In one sense, he was a more perfect being than the Soul King, yet for some reason, his inner self remained limitlessly human.
At times, he appeared as a transcendent being who had shed all worldly skin; at others, he seemed like an ordinary man steeped in the five desires and seven emotions.
At times, he was a sage who had realized the truths of all things; at others, he seemed like a fool who knew nothing at all.
A Forerunner one moment, a latecomer the next. A teacher, then a disciple. A fragment of truth, then a mass of errors.
"If you had just bowed your head like Shiryu and said it was for the sake of the world, that you were sorry, and that you'd take the punishment later—I wouldn't have said a word. But what? For the sake of the Soul King? Does a bastard who claims to care for the Soul King tear him into pieces? Doesn't that sound strange even to you?"
A Transcendent must be perfect. Enlightenment must be devoid of error. He who has shed his mortality must be complete.
Because an imperfect Transcendent is nothing but a calamity by their mere existence.
Look at the Soul King who lost his sanity in the end. Look at a being who shatters the world and causes cataclysms with a mere gesture.
Look at that existence that is irrationality itself—one that ordinary humans like us can only look up to, living each day wondering when we might die.
That was why I couldn't help but be wary of my master, who looked as if a human had been stuffed into the body of a Transcendent.
As is common with imperfect humans, they are the ones who ruin great works before a grand goal, all because of a single, trivial emotion.
"You have no intention of changing, do you?"
"One 'changes' things when there is a problem with them."
All because of a single emotion.
It was utterly ridiculous.
But what if such a being possessed the power of a Transcendent?
Their very existence is a seed of disaster. In a way, they inevitably become a catastrophe worse than the Soul King.
"Yeah, I thought you'd say that."
That was why I sought to drag my master down.
Because I believed the space above the heavens should be a place where no one stands.
The heavens should simply be the heavens; they are not something to be feared or worshipped.
Life and death must be equal for everyone.
"...."
Therefore, I, who have been deprived of the right to die, will likely suffer eternally in Hell.
Am I afraid? Of course, I am. Dying is always terrifying.
But it is that very fear that allows humans to move forward.
A step without fear is no different from the aimless wandering of the dead.
Of course, it's not that I never dreamed of eternal immortality.
The moment I completed the Ouken, I did wonder—just for a second—if I should simply disappear along with the Soul King Palace.
But I couldn't do that.
Because this plan is only completed through my death.
"Then I have nothing more to say as a master."
Trying my best to hide my trembling hands, I looked at my master—no, at Shimon Meio—and recalled the words Ichibe Hyosube spoke 500 years ago.
'Names hold power. Therefore, things without names either do not exist, or are existences that cannot be permitted to exist.'
'To seal such an existence, one must first give it a name.'
To have a name is to establish one's existence and to draw its limits.
That was why I created the name. Inherit (嗣), Entangle (紊), Darkness (冥), King (王). I used these four characters to give the name itself meaning.
You shall be entangled in and inherit the throne of the Nether King.
It was also intentional that others used the Kanji for 'Shimon Meio' however they pleased.
If the name had been too clearly defined from the start, he would have surely seen through my shallow scheme and never accepted it.
So, I made the name Shimon Meio known but kept its underlying meaning hidden.
The only ones who knew the true meaning of that name were me, who devised the plan, and Ichibe Hyosube, who bestowed the name. Only us two.
And now....
"Instead, from this moment on, I will speak as you have named me—as the Nether King."
'Three.'
Yes. This is enough.
All that remains is to pay for my sins, which have been delayed for too long.
"Tsunayashiro Jomon."
Watching my master call out my name and point out my sins one by one, I swallowed hard.
Do I feel guilt? I do. But after a thousand years, it has worn thin, now feeling like nothing more than a burden weighing me down.
Regret? I have none.
My heart and actions were for the sake of the Great Task. I have not a shred of hesitation. Everything is justice.
'With my death, humanity's fear in the face of the unknown shall vanish.'
Everything has an answer. If a problem seems answerless, it is only because one hasn't fully grasped the question yet.
If you take the time to understand it, you can find the answer to every problem. That is my theory.
"—Therefore, I pass judgment. You are bound for the Hell of Black Darkness."
If that makes me a villain, then so be it.
This is my resolve, carried since the days I trembled before the unknown.
"I will not die as long as the Soul King Palace remains!! How do you intend to judge someone like me?!"
"You won't die as long as the Soul King Palace remains?"
Master clenched his fist and raised it.
"Then I'll just shove you into Hell alive."
The moment he finished speaking, the shape of his arm vanished for an instant.
——!!!
With an explosive roar that sounded like the world itself was being torn apart, the floor of the Soul King Palace vanished, and a massive hole was gouged out.
A bottomless abyss—so deep it made my legs give out just looking at it—opened its maw wide, threatening to swallow me whole.
I reflexively stepped back, but Master was already standing behind me.
The moment our backs touched, a chill surged through me. I rolled forward to dodge, but the Nether King was faster, his hand seizing my face.
"Ugh...!"
"Running is useless."
Crunch.
The agony of a dislocated jaw and a crushed face radiated through me.
It hurts.
ITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTS
"Nnghhhh!!"
"You seem quite arrogant thinking you can't die, but Hell is overflowing with bastards just like you."
His hand gripped my collar tightly. I looked at him with trembling eyes, gasping as a sudden sensation of floating took over.
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again; clouds filled my vision.
'The sky...?'
"Look as much as you can. It's a view you'll never see again for as long as you live."
I flinched and turned my head toward the voice coming from right beside me.
Master was standing calmly upside down against the sky.
I pulled at my jaw, forcing the displaced bone back into place with a snap, and smiled bitterly.
"Truly... absurd power."
"I'm suppressing it as much as I can, you moron. If I went all out, the Three Worlds would have been shattered long ago."
Master, who was watching me with folded arms, began to draw out his hidden power.
It was different from Spiritual Power or Spiritual Pressure. It was something belonging to an entirely different concept.
An unknowable force that escaped human comprehension.
The Three Worlds shook as if they would collapse at any second from that simple act alone.
It was truly the power of a Transcendent—one with the status to look down upon the entire world.
'Indeed, my thoughts were not wrong.'
That power is far too dangerous.
That existence is nothing but a calamity to mankind.
"Ha. You're a monster."
A being that threatens the world just by releasing his strength.
How could this be anything but a disaster?
"Don't become a monster just to catch one. I should have told you this first, long ago."
I blinked at those words.
"Ha... Are you still giving me lessons even in a situation like this?"
...Perhaps I was wrong—
The fist approaching my face was the last thing I saw—
* * *
After detonating Tsunayashiro's head in the sky, I descended back to the ground.
Tsunayashiro was still in the middle of falling through the clouds.
I watched silently as he passed the Soul King Palace and plummeted toward the bottom of Hell before I turned away.
For someone who blustered about not dying as long as the Palace existed, it was a rather hollow end.
But it wasn't particularly surprising.
The guys who fall into Hell are all the same—they don't die even if you kill them.
"So. What have you been doing over there for a while now?"
I turned around to see the Monk busy writing something with his brush.
Whenever that bastard picks up a brush, it creeps me out.
"What am I doing? Recording, of course."
Recording the historic scene of the Nether King passing judgment on a sinner.
I looked at the laughing Monk with a puzzled expression when suddenly—
"Hmm...?"
A strange itchiness tickled my body, so I scratched my forearm.
It kept itching, and when I looked down, I saw a bug clinging to my arm.
What the? What kind of bug is this?
I flicked away the bug—one I had never seen before—and looked back at the Monk.
"...?"
The Monk was staring at me with a look that clearly said, 'This isn't how it was supposed to go.' I scratched my head.
"Did you just do something to me?"
"Hmph. You truly are a monster."
He's saying the same thing as that Tsunayashiro brat.
Seriously, what did he do?