Chapter 1312: Saint Emperor [10]
BOOM!
Another explosion rang out. At this point, explosions had just become white noise to the two of them. Their battle had been going on for too long for them to pay any mind to the effects of their collisions.
After all, neither of them was going to be hurt by these eruptions of mana. Their Divine Energy was equal in strength, and their laws directly neutralized each other or harmonized and heightened the effect, never truly overpowering one another.
Therefore, most of their focus went into their conversation as they continued to fight through it.
"..."
Damien processed the Saint Emperor's answer slowly.
"Frankly, I can't accept that. How are you going to say you're trying to destroy suffering after everything you've done? And...what happened to your quest for entertainment? Those two goals directly clash with each other, don't they?" Damien asked.
He felt like the Saint Emperor was singing a completely different tune than he was in the beginning.
It wasn't that Damien didn't believe him. He could see deep enough into the Saint Emperor's existence to know he was being wholly truthful.
The problem was that he was being truthful before as well. These contradictory aspects were both part of him, and that only made him more confusing.
"You say it is contradictory, but is it truly?" The Saint Emperor questioned back, parrying Damien's sword and slashing at his chest.
Damien twisted his body to the side, refusing to lose his momentum. He forcefully swung his sword back down to counter, intentionally snapping his arm in the process.
BANG!
"It is. Despite saying you want to destroy suffering, your quest for entertainment was a large part of the reason it's proliferated to this extent over the years."
The Saint Emperor nodded.
"In a sense, that is true. To put it simply, our generation has no hope."
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
The two went back and forth countless times, clashing blades thousands of times every fraction of a second. They healed and destroyed the Ancient Battlefield over and over again, making sure their stage never disappeared before they could finish.
"As long as 'those people' keep interfering in the lower universe, there is no chance for its people to live a life without suffering. Just as they birthed the Nox Race into existence, they have sown great discord within the ranks of the universe even before I exacerbated the problem for my own amusement."
"Yes, it is true that I have caused immense suffering to survive the trials of time. I have followed my own selfish desire and manipulated the universe into a state nearing Nonexistence because I had to live. But..."
BANG!
"...have I also not created this situation?"
Damien's eyes narrowed.
The Saint Emperor was half the reason the universe was now only Grand Heavens Boundary and not its magnificent form of the past. That was true.
But it was also true that because of the Saint Emperor's actions, Damien reached Al'Katra and eliminated the corrupted foreign material and came to the Ancient Battlefield to slaughter their Demigods.
Because of the Saint Emperor, the Nox had fallen to a point where they could no longer harm the universe once their rotten parts were cut off.
And from there, the universe would finally have a chance to heal.
"Has that been your goal this entire time?" Damien questioned again.
"Who knows? Perhaps I truly only wish to entertain myself," the Saint Emperor responded with a grin.
"But you...are not so simple of a person."
"That, I am not."
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Their collision ruptured the atmosphere again. The hundred million-kilometer-wide gash consumed the Ancient Battlefield, and rather than plunging it into the chaotic void, it ripped through the chaotic void as well and opened a passage directly to the true Void.
Once again, Damien and the Saint Emperor worked together to heal it.
But Damien's mind was elsewhere.
The Saint Emperor's end goal was to bring peace to the lower universe. No, it could be said that he wanted to rid this cosmos of the terror brought about by those who wished it harm.
He wanted to end suffering altogether, and to do that, he needed to create a plot that allowed such an ending.
However, there was no way for him to do so.
There wasn't someone who existed to take the place of the main character in that plot, so he did it himself. There wasn't a world that could support it, so he made one himself.
He led countless quintillions of existences, both denizen and Nox, to their deaths without blinking an eye. He ruined universes, ruined families, and destroyed hope for the sake of creating an ideal world.
He believed his actions were justified.
If the future generations could live on in a world free of suffering, if he could prevent another "Saint Emperor" from being born and facing the same tragedies he did...
He didn't care about what happened to those sacrificed in his pursuit of that goal.
That was how much he didn't want to see another version of himself recreated by fate and circumstance.
"Do you hate yourself?" Damien asked.
"I do," the Saint Emperor answered without hesitation.
"I believe I am an integral part of the plot I've created, however, I abhor what I have become. Rather, I abhor what I have been forced to become. I do not wish this fate on anyone else."
"And for that purpose..." Damien muttered.
"...even if it means ending all life and birthing a new universe, I shall do so without hesitation."
The Saint Emperor finished his sentence.
The difference in their moral standpoints couldn't be overcome, but Damien also couldn't say anything about the Saint Emperor's motivations.
How much did he have to suffer?
How far did one have to plunge into the depths of despair to feel such animosity towards their own twisted existence that they'd be willing to end the world itself so future generations wouldn't suffer the same fate?
Yes, the Saint Emperor was irredeemable. Yes, he had committed atrocities by his own will.
But who could say it was completely his fault, and who could say he was completely wrong?
In a game of chess where victory against a masterful opponent seemed impossible, there were still several options to avoid defeat.
The first was to crush the opposing pieces to dust, making sure the opponent could no longer play.
The second was to flip the board, forcing the opponent to spend a great deal of time reorganizing the pieces before the game could be played again.
And the third, the option the Saint Emperor chose, and the only option left when the opponent, the opponent's pieces, one's own pieces, and even the board itself were working their hardest to make sure one couldn't succeed...
...was to incinerate the board and all the pieces on it.
Later, one could buy a new board and start a new game, but that game would not be influenced by the first in any way.
It was extreme to an incomprehensible level, but when one had been playing the game for hundreds of millions of years with no chance of success, it would eventually start feeling more and more reasonable as an option.
The Saint Emperor kept trying and kept failing, and thus, the only solution he found was this.
And Damien could only grit his teeth without any proper way to deny his choice.
Because even he was playing on the board the Saint Emperor created.
Even he was fully utilizing the time the Saint Emperor bought by incinerating the board over and over again.
"...but I won't let the board be destroyed again."
He was resolved regardless.
"At this point, we can at most consider the board flipped. Half of our pieces have been taken, but the opponent still has all of theirs."
"Still, we have a wild card, and that is me."
Damien's eyes were firm with a newfound light of determination.
"So I will choose the first option. I will save this board and find the opponent. I will reduce his pieces to ash and then sever his hands and rip his throat out so he has no chance of playing ever again."
"I will not let you destroy this board, because while it may just be a board to you..."
"...it is my home, and those pieces are my people. Until the day I, Damien Void, no longer exist, nobody can touch them."
The Saint Emperor smiled.
"That is a worthy mindset to hold."
He raised his sword once more.
The fight had gone on for almost 4 years now.
No matter how large his mana capacity had grown, 4 years of constant usage without any attempts to replenish it led to an obvious depletion.
He was almost out of energy.
"Show me, Damien Void," he said, his back straight as if the problem of mana never existed at all.
"Show me that you are worthy of those words. Show me that I can leave this world in your hands. Otherwise..."
"...even if it is the worst possible decision, I will end you here and take your place, so that the world at least stands a chance against the threat from beyond the border."