The S-Classes That I Raised

Chapter 675: People of the Past (2)

“In our world, the system is deeply involved.”

How much was it safe to say? The worry did cross my mind, but this was a world of reconstructed past. Even if I spilled everything, it didn’t feel like it would affect reality. I couldn’t be sure, so I had to be as cautious as possible.

“The truth is, I–”

“Hold on, little human.”

The furball shook itself as if it were shaking its head. Then, with eyes it didn’t actually have, it looked straight up at me.

“We’ve been trying not to think about it. Any of this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yujin, I told you before.”

Crescent Moon whispered softly to me. Told me what…

‘The sense of wrongness.’

Transcendents feel an alienness in false spaces. Crescent Moon had clearly said they instinctively reject them.

The moment I understood, the Transcendents’ gazes were on me. Quietly. A chill ran down my spine.

“I don’t care either way.”

Only Young Chaos spoke casually. My feet finally touched the ground, and the furball’s antennae started slapping his leg again.

“Being dense isn’t something to brag about! We have to try hard to pretend we don’t know anything!”

The Lighthouse Keeper shrugged. The chill that had filled the air loosened again, but my heart was still shrunk up tight.

“I’m just me.”

“There he goes with the simple talk again!”

“In the first place, there was a time when even we couldn’t feel it. There’s no law saying that isn’t still true. We may have learned to see and touch the glass wall, but for all we know there’s another sheet of glass standing outside it.”

At Chaos’s words, the furball shuddered all over.

“Right. We could’ve escaped a zoo cage inside a huge protected habitat and decided we’ve achieved perfect freedom. Even though we’re still under protection and observation. But it’s dangerous. At least for this little human.”

I swallowed dryly. If the clear thought settled in that this world was a virtual construct made from traces of the past, and that they themselves weren’t real either, it would be hard for anyone to stay sane. And I’d be the shrimp caught between a bunch of whales going berserk.

“This child is of my kin, who once stayed in my world, and he can speak of the future.”

Crescent Moon explained. That was what we’d agreed to say. For my sake and for everyone else’s. The Lighthouse Keeper nodded, and the furball didn’t say anything more. How much did they really understand and recognize? I couldn’t quite imagine how they were accepting this situation, or their own existence in it.

In any case, she’d given them a reason: that I knew the future.

“I’ve seen a world where the system has been completed.”

So I just had to match that. The Lighthouse Keeper loosely folded his arms.

“I am curious. Did it work out?”

“The future isn’t just one fixed thing, but I also think–”

“In the beginning, I think it was successful. Probably.”

The system itself definitely helped a lot of worlds. It was basically a newbie helper.

“But the Transcendents managing the system started interfering more and more.”

“We can’t intervene directly in the worlds, though? Once the system takes root as planned, the barrier between worlds will get a little thinner, sure.”

“Even so, it’s still hard for a Transcendent to go in and out~ And there’s no real reason to butt in.”

“Unless they wanted to sabotage something. The system is automatically applied; they should only need to handle maintenance.”

Exactly. I sneaked a glance at Crescent Moon, who was listening quietly to the furball and the Lighthouse Keeper.

“As time goes by, there are a lot of things that end up different from how they started. Just a hundred years is enough for things to flip completely. Like a group that once valued freedom and equality turning to money and power. So, um, do you happen to have anything like a cheat key for the system?”

If there was, it’d be a lot easier to win that bet. Call it cheating if you want—this was a game I’d been dragged into against my will to begin with.

“The system isn’t even finished yet. It’s still in the early stages. Of course there’s no cheat code. We’re not planning to make one either.”

“Aren’t you the system’s creators? Maybe you could put one in–”

…Even if they did, it wouldn’t be applied in reality. It was too early. I should’ve landed right before the system’s completion. Was there no way to skip ahead in time?

‘We won’t be able to get a real answer about Crescent Moon’s contract with Seong Hyunjae at this point either.’

I looked at Chirp, who was nodding off on top of Young Chaos’s head. Chirp appeared and the system glitched. Chirp had swatted away the tentacles and we’d been transported here. I’d felt this for a while, but Chirp really was suspicious.

“Chirp.”

– Peep.

Chirp yawned wide, beak stretched, then floated into my arms. His round black eyes stared straight up at me. Adorable. I thought he had to be related to the white bird and the snowing tree, but there was no way to interrogate a kid who couldn’t even talk.

“Chirp, you really can’t talk, right?”

– Peep!

“I mean, I’m pretty sure Peace will start talking before you do, though.”

– Peep peep!

“Can any of you understand what he’s saying?”

They were Transcendents. Maybe they could translate baby bird peeps. At my words, the furball’s antennae swayed.

“Food!”

“…Huh?”

“He said, ‘I’m hungry, Dad!’”

Of course you did, my Chirp. I took out a shard of magic stone from my inventory and fed it to him.

– Peep peep!

“He wants more.”

“No, Chirp. No overeating. More importantly, why did you slap the tentacles away earlier?”

– Peep?

“Food?”

“I mean the tentacles, the tentacles. Those antenna–like things.”

“Rude.”

“I apologize.”

– Peep!

“Maybe TV? Toy?”

So Chirp really didn’t seem to know anything. Or maybe the clever Chirp that normally didn’t eat much had deliberately created this whole situation. In the end, I gave in to his whining and fed him one more small magic stone shard. The furball shuddered from head to toe.

“I really can’t take this anymore!”

Then it bounded away, drifting farther from me. The Lighthouse Keeper also took a couple of steps back.

“Here, only you.”

The Lighthouse Keeper spoke. Maybe because I was the only real thing in this place, the closer they were to me, the stronger the alienness and rejection they felt.

“I didn’t feel anything in particular until I saw this kid.”

Young Chaos’s palm tapped my head lightly.

“But he really is ordinary. He’s just a kid by himself; he’s just tangled up in this and that.”

“Don’t think too deeply! Don’t get curious!”

The furball shouted as it moved even farther away. At the same time, the space trembled. The Lighthouse Keeper stepped back more. In my arms, Chirp spread his tiny wings.

And then it went dark around us again.

“…Chirp.”

What are you trying to show me. Or what are you hoping for. I watched the changing starlight. Maybe I should be asking not Chirp, but the white bird.

I closed my eyes and opened them again. Thunk—an arm hooked around me and yanked me up.

“You’re late.”

The smell of blood stabbed my nose. Young Chaos set me down almost like he was tossing me. When I staggered to my feet, an endless sunset filled my eyes.

“I figured you’d show up again.”

“…You remember me too, Elder?”

“I do. I can’t tell if it’s a natural continuation or something that’s been implanted. Who the hell is pulling this kind of stunt.”

Chaos stepped in front of me. His arm angled down, gripping a jet–black greatsword.

– Grrrrr.

The sword gave a low growl. At the same time, heat burned in my chest. The Sword of the Ruler’s Corruption, eroding as it ruled. The Black Dragon, awake inside the blade, let out a heavy presence. Young Chaos looked back at me, intrigued.

“You’re pretty friendly with this guy.”

“So, uh… I don’t know if I should say this, but.”

“I don’t mind. Say it.”

“I took a fragment of the Black Dragon’s heart, combined it with magic stones, and gave it a new body.”

Chaos smirked and flicked his sword.

“That little brat is your parent in the future.”

The blade vibrated with a deep rumble. He really didn’t seem pleased. Seol also hadn’t been particularly happy to see me.

“Don’t move a muscle.”

He warned me and looked out at the twilight. There wasn’t a sun anywhere. The sky was just stained red, with scattered points of light like stars. No—eyes. Eyes were staring down at us. The moment I recognized them, messages for fear–resistance skills blinked rapidly.

They were unimaginably huge. I let out a slow breath. Maybe Young Chaos was blocking it, because I didn’t feel any direct pressure. But just knowing that those things were watching us made the hair on my body stand on end.

“The system is nearing completion.”

In front of those eyes, Chaos explained calmly.

“It’s spreading through every world created by the five Sources, seeping into them. The creators have submerged themselves inside the system, and the birth of a new law isn’t far off.”

Grrrrrr– A section of the endless twilight twisted.

“Transcendents also can’t be completely free from the system. Whether they support it, oppose it, or remain neutral. Once it becomes law, that’s how it is.”

“…Are those the Transcendents who oppose it?”

I looked at the broad back in front of me. The smell of blood tickled my nose again. His hair, usually tied back, was more disheveled than usual. There were dry, dark red stains on his sleeves and around his shoulders. I turned my head to the side. Broken swords and sabers. Blades stuck in the ground everywhere.

“Are you okay?”

“Who are you worrying about. I just got a bit messy because I’m no good at tricks.”

“You should’ve learned a few at least. The furball’s probably asleep by now, too.”

“I thought I’d gotten rid of the nag, but now I’ve got another one.”

The twilight twisted violently again. Young Chaos walked forward. His long belt and coat hem swayed lightly. And then—

Screeeech–!

A shriek ripped at my ears. I hugged Chirp tighter, hiding him against me. Something bared its teeth. My eyes couldn’t even register it properly. The air shuddered heavily and the surroundings warped like an old broken TV.

In that distortion, Chaos lifted his sword.

“They’re coming at me with all kinds of tricks.”

His toes touched the ground lightly, like a dance, his body turning in a smooth spin. The blade was feather–light. That’s how it felt. But nothing managed to slip through that delicate line.

Savage hostility bounced off. His long hair moved like a fish’s tail, swimming through the air.

“The outcome’s the same.”

From what my eyes could follow, Young Chaos’s movements were calm and unhurried. Even so, everything was blocked and shattered.

“All that matters is harming the opponent. That’s it.”

Simple. Whether it’s a stone axe tied together with strips of leather or a missile packed with cutting–edge tech, the end result—killing your enemy—doesn’t change.

The jet–black sword curved. It cut. With that single purpose, it drew a long line.

A clear line appeared across the twilight. An unknown Transcendent’s mana surged wildly. Layer after layer of barriers went up, but the sword only cut. To the very end of the boundless sunset, everything was split. The air thrummed. I could faintly sense a furious scream. Chaos laughed.

“Now it’s night.”

He lowered his sword.

“I made sure I’d have somewhere to rest. Even among Transcendents, plenty of them are still bound by their own attributes, so the environment matters. And this night is something several creators put a lot of effort into.”

Darkness descended.

“Even a Transcendent who’s still on the young side becomes the main character on their own stage.”

Jingle, jingle. With a familiar sound of bells, moonlight spread out. At the same time, the watching eyes vanished in a hurry. Moonlight rushed toward them even faster.

Jingle, jingle. With that clear metallic chiming, silver chains wrapped around the eyes that hadn’t managed to escape.

– Kyaaaaaaah!

A massive red dragon, pierced by uncountable shafts of moonlight, thrashed as it was dragged out. Its claws sliced through the beams, but more light replaced the severed strands in an instant, wrapping the dragon again.

– Crescent Moon!

I jerked my head back instinctively, staring up at the sky. There was a being like the moon itself up there. Long pink hair spread and rippled in the darkness. The farther down it went, the paler it grew, until it faded into a chilling white moonlight.

Another Transcendent’s scream echoed. Within it, Crescent Moon smiled softly. Gentle, kind, benevolent.

Crunch. The moonlight split bone and dug through flesh. As those in her grasp died, Crescent Moon did not mourn. From beginning to end she gazed at them with love, like she’d gather them all into her arms any moment now.

The shattered Transcendent fell in pieces under the night sky and vanished.

Young Chaos’s hand covered my eyes.

“Don’t try to understand.”

“…But. She says she loves them, so how can she…”

“Don’t try to understand the ones who’ve stepped beyond their own worlds. Your understanding belongs to your world. There are worlds where killing is a virtue. Worlds where kindness is an insult. Feelings, values, ethics—none of them are just one thing. Know that they’re different, but there’s no need to rush to understand. You live your world as yourself.”

Moonlight fell over me and Young Chaos as well. It was a little cool, and somehow comforting. The hand over my eyes withdrew. Crescent Moon was standing in front of me.

“…Is this what you call equal love?”

He told me not to try to understand, but I couldn’t help asking. Her smiling lips moved slowly.

“Of course. I love everyone. Whether they want it or not.”