Chapter 299: The End of the World (4)

I kicked the ground violently, curses spilling from my mouth. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!”

Why hadn’t I realized it sooner? Why hadn’t I caught on earlier? How was the Church of Eternity able to know everything happening inside the academy so precisely? The Hero Academy was an extremely closed environment. Outsiders were strictly prohibited from entering it except during certain periods. Even cadets couldn’t leave without applying for permission. Yet, the Church of Eternity knew everything, as if they had surveillance devices planted inside the academy. Who had just left and who had just entered, they tracked it all perfectly.

Only one thing could explain this—they were inside the academy from the beginning. That would explain their absurd level of intelligence. Moreover, this was also the reason information about the Masters kept leaking out.

At that moment, a memory surfaced. It was from when I had investigated whether Khalid was connected to the Prophet of Eternity at Camellia’s request.

“Heh. Are you wondering whether there’s a traitor among the Masters?

“I’ve investigated for quite a long time myself, and my conclusion is that there’s no traitor among the Masters.

“My guess is that the traitor is likely someone close, an aide or associate with strong ties to one of the Masters.”

The traitor was among the Masters’ close associates. And Morris was the closest of the close, Khalid’s son. Even if Khalid hadn’t told him directly, someone that close could easily gather information about the Masters. A hollow laugh escaped me. I didn’t blame Khalid. Honestly, who could ever imagine that their father would disguise himself as their adopted son?

That crazy bastard. Of all disguises, becoming the adopted son of your own son? I should’ve realized when he mentioned the message!

Camellia had come to the academy because she had received a message from Khalid, in which he claimed he possessed important information about the Prophet of Eternity. But when asked, Khalid said he had never sent such a message. Therefore, the culprit had to be someone close enough to use Khalid’s Hero Watch without his knowledge. No matter how one looked at it, Morris was the only possibility.

Gritting my teeth, I hurried toward the main building. Morris had gone to the main hall where the cadets were being evacuated. There was only one reason he would go there without joining the battle: the Warp Gate. His target was the key to the Warp Gate held by Headmaster Ryu.

I kicked open the tightly shut doors of the hall and stormed inside. There, I saw hundreds of cadets huddled in the corners, their faces pale with fear, and Morris, standing behind the collapsed headmaster, who was coughing up blood.

“Oh. You’re here?” Morris grinned as he held the blood-soaked key in his hand. “You’re later than I expected.”

“You bastard!” I shouted.

“I wasn’t planning to go this far, honestly, but after that Mephisto guy died, handling anything related to the Warp Gate became a real hassle.” He shrugged casually. “So, I decided to borrow something you worked so hard to set up.”

“Borrow?” A premonition crept up on me.

“Yeah.”

The key emitted a brilliant light, and Warp Gates opened in the air. Originally, these gates were meant to connect to the capitals of the three nations to rapidly summon reinforcements. But what emerged from the gates were massive tree roots. They instantly engulfed the entire hall. Then, flowers bloomed from the roots. They were chrysanthemums, with petals as white as snow.

Parting the drifting petals, masked figures walked out of the Warp Gates. These were the members of the Church of Eternity. It explained why they hadn’t shown themselves earlier. This had been their plan from the start.

Khalid staggered to his feet, coughing. “M-Morris!”

His legs trembled as if he would collapse at any moment. He looked battered, and it was hard to find a spot not covered in blood on his body. Yet, he took a step forward and screamed, “Why? Why? WHY?”

It was a cry that sounded like his very soul was being torn apart. As he was faced with a reality he couldn’t understand—no, one he didn’t even want to understand—bloody tears streamed down his wrinkled face.

Morris replied, “Hmm. That’s a pretty vague question. At least be specific about what you want to ask.”

Khalid stared at him. “Why? Why are you...!”

“You mean, why am I the Prophet of Eternity?” He let out a faint chuckle. “Well, from the beginning, I was pretending to be your son to deceive you.”

“W-what?” Khalid was shocked.

“You know the saying ‘right under your nose’? You were the one searching most desperately for the Prophet of Eternity. I figured you’d never suspect your son.”

And he was right. No, he couldn’t have been wrong. Who in the world would ever imagine that the father they had been separated from in childhood would return disguised as their own adopted son?

Morris continued, “At times like this, the Blessing of Regeneration is really useful. I can alter my physical age however I want, which makes deceiving people easy.”

“You!” Gritting his teeth, Khalid glared at Morris, no, at his father. “Then, Dain... The accident during the mission, that was also?”

“Oh, Dain? Don’t worry.” Morris shrugged and gestured toward one of the masked Apostles of Eternity. “He’s right over there.”

Khalid burst into laughter, like a man who had lost his mind. Everything had been a lie—the subordinate he trusted most, his closest friend, and even the son he had loved and raised as his own.

He remembered the day he stood alone before his fallen comrade’s grave, pouring himself a drink; the day he took in his friend’s son as his own; the day that boy, always so frightened, finally called him “father” for the first time; and the day, after the entrance ceremony, when they shared their first drink. He remembered. He remembered. He remembered. Every single one of them. Not a single memory was left behind.

“Ugh!AAAAAGHHHHHHHH! MORRIIIIIIS!” Gripping his sword, he charged.

A dizzying pain surged through his battered body. His wounds split open with the sudden movement, blood gushing out. But he ignored it. He didn’t care. Right now, something else was far more important.

“RAAAAAAAAH!”

His sword energy shattered into hundreds, no, thousands of fragments. Each piece, no bigger than a fingernail, swirled through the air like cherry blossom petals scattered in a spring breeze. The ultimate technique that had earned him the name Falling Petal Sword descended upon Morris in a violent storm.

“Seriously, even after I explained everything, why are you still throwing a tantrum?” Morris casually flicked his hand, and tree roots burst from the ground, slamming into Khalid.

Khalid was sent tumbling, coughing up blood.

Morris clicked his tongue, looking down at him with disappointment. “I guess failures can’t be helped.”

Shaking his head, he snapped his fingers. The roots twisted together into sharp spears and shot toward Khalid. At that moment, Ashen Flames ignited, wrapping around the roots. The same roots that even thousands of blade fragments couldn’t scratch turned to ash in an instant, scattering into the air.

“Oh?” A note of interest escaped Morris. Grinning, he looked at me, as I stood before Khalid and blocked the path. “As expected, the successful one really is different.”

I ground my teeth, glaring at him. Fragments of a past conversation with Khalid resurfaced in my mind.

“I lived with my father for a while. Only for a few months, though.”

“And after that?”

“I was abandoned again.”

“What?”

“Heh. My father said I wasn’t the ‘seed’ he had been looking for.”

Khalid had said he was discarded because he wasn’t the seed the Prophet of Eternity was searching for. And it seemed like I was. I remembered my conversation with the Prophet of Eternity.

“Because you are the seed I have waited five hundred years, desperately, painfully, for to sprout.”

“Hah!”

Failure and success, the orphanage sponsor, and the surname “Han.” The scattered puzzle pieces finally began to fall into place.

I looked at the figure before me. “Morris... or should I call you Father?”

Morris chuckled, shoulders shaking with amusement. “Oh? You only figured it out now?”

“How many?” I asked.

He looked at me with interest. “Hm? Of what?”

“The children you had and abandoned at orphanages. How many are there?”

“Who knows? There were too many to bother counting.” He shrugged casually, meeting my gaze. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t force anyone or do anything like that. I’m quite popular, you know?”

“Why?” I asked again.

“Why did I do it?” A smirk tugged at his lips. “With the Blessing of Regeneration that I possess, I couldn’t fully absorb the Primordial Flame. You know this too, don’t you? Blessings are most likely to be passed down through heredity. So, I scattered seeds, hoping that one day, among them, someone would be born with a blessing capable of containing the Primordial Flame.”

Five hundred years. For five hundred long years, he had waited desperately and earnestly. For the day he could reach the end of the world.

I bit down on my lip, staring at him. “You went that far... just because you wanted to die?”

I didn’t want to admit it. But I understood him. I, too, had once lived chasing only death. I understood better than anyone the torment of an endless life.

However, he said something unexpected. “Hm? I never said I wanted to die.”

“What?”

What the hell was he talking about?

“When the power of the Primordial Flame and the Tree of Creation collide, this world will come to an end. Not a trace will remain. Everything will be reduced to ashes. And then, the door will open,” he explained.

“The door?” I was confused.

“Yes. The door that was created when we first set foot in this damned world.” Morris’s face twisted into something fierce as he continued, “We’re going back. Back to where we came from. Back to our home.”