Chapter 12: How Diabolical People Send Messages
Kage descended the mountain and plunged into the forest that night. First, he established a base.
The forest was something he remembered vividly from his past life. After Shinro’s death—his mother’s and Taro’s too—after he’d grown weary of grieving, he had to flee Blacksteel Fortress at all costs. Because of this, he had only one choice.
He couldn’t fight the Impures. He was too weak to deliver a killing blow, barely scraping the peak of Stage 1 at eighteen. And he lucked out when it came to advancing to the next stage. Master Shinro had warned he might remain stuck there for years, and the man hadn’t been wrong.
But his thirst for vengeance burned too fierce for him to simply rot away in Blacksteel Fortress, drowning in grief. So Kage ventured into the forest and began studying the patterns, strengths, and weaknesses of the Impures dwelling within. For five years he did this—some days smooth, others perilous. More often than not, luck alone saved him from death’s guillotine that hung perpetually above his head.
But that brutal endeavor had earned him knowledge that proved invaluable in this life.
The forest harbored three distinct types of Impures—all fiercely territorial. Four actually, but Kage preferred to call the last one the final boss. It wasn’t territorial, and Kage was saving it to entertain whoever might be watching him.
The three Impure species inhabiting the forest were Barrowspike Manglers, Murkstingers, and Rootgnarl Watchers.
These three claimed their territories and operated by one strict rule: stay on your side, we’ll stay on ours. Kage had witnessed, on rare occasions during those five years, nipper Barrowspike Manglers stung to death for crossing into Murkstinger territory.
The Impures were cold-blooded monsters—the Barrowspikes never retaliated and just continued their business.
Barrowspikes... he couldn’t recall much, but one defining detail he could remember was bones jutted from their bodies like grotesque outgrowths. They possessed poor vision but incredible sensitivity to vibrations.
And their weakness. Of course, Kage would never forgive himself if he ever forgot anyone’s weakness. That was the very thing he dedicated his life to after all.
The Barrowspikes were terrible jumpers. This made them easy prey for Murkstingers, which were essentially giant mosquitoes with elongated stinger tongues and pustules covering their bodies.
Murkstingers posed serious danger. Their pustules could spray acidic mist that seared skin terribly, though not fatally unless one remained trapped in it too long. Kage had been caught in it briefly during his past life and the worst that happened was that the burns left scars.
The real threat came from their stingers and their tendency to swarm. Of course, their weak exoskeletons made them vulnerable to Rootgnarl Watchers.
While Rootgnarl Watchers were prey to Barrowspikes. Rootgnarls were humanoid tree creatures with massive eyes blinking through their bark—slow but devastatingly strong. Kage remembered them particularly well because they were a perfected trap he consistently fell for.
They could masquerade as trees, blending seamlessly with their surroundings. In fact, their entire territory was just them pretending to be trees. Every time Kage had ventured through during his past life—before learning their ways—he’d been chased, beaten down and almost killed by the "trees" until he fled beyond their borders.
There was simply no way to distinguish them from normal trees. It had taken him over two years to finally recognize them.
Kage smiled bitterly as fragmented memories surfaced. So many years had passed—so little remained clear, but the suffering tied to certain memories made them impossible to forget.
He smiled coldly.
"Let’s start with those twisted trees."
He was going to indulge himself in peak pettiness and ensure every one of those trees suffered immensely for the sufferings in his past life.
Kage settled at the pit he’d constructed, twigs gathered within and stones marking its perimeter. This base, established closest to the Rootgnarls yet near the forest’s edge, was the only safe haven for now.
[The Wolf of the North glares at you with contempt]
[Weaver of Sorrow sobs quietly]
Kage sighed wearily.
He understood why Wolf of the North was glaring, but Weaver of Sorrows seemed like a sadist perpetually weeping—Kage couldn’t tell if her sobs expressed joy at the carnage.
But Wolf of the North appeared to be throwing silent tantrums. Kage could almost feel the Sovereign god’s piercing stare boring into his very soul. It had started after he severed Master Shinro’s hand.
Kage felt no remorse for what he’d done to Master Shinro. If he intended to feel guilty, he wouldn’t have done it.
Master Shinro needed punishment. Kage cherished him—he was dear to him—but that didn’t diminish the fact that his loyalty belonged to the Clan Patriarch.
’I’m not interested in keeping things that belong to others. Master Shinro has a choice to make, and I’m certain he received the message loud and clear.’
Kage smiled crookedly.
’Moreover, my father, wherever he is... I’m sure he will catch the underlying meaning too after hearing about this. There’s no way a Patriarch like him would miss it.’
Of course, the exchange between him and Master Shinro carried messages most observers only grasped at surface level. Both for Master Shinro, who served the Patriarch, and Kage, who was boldly announcing his defiance by severing the hand Shinro needed to relay messages—thereby crippling whatever information flow had been occurring.
Master Shinro’s offense warranted death. However, while Kage disguised cutting off his remaining hand as mercy, it was simply a wordless message sent directly to the Patriarch.
[The Wolf of the North clenches his teeth furiously, declaring that your ruthlessness knows no bounds—using a Purist’s only arm to send a message is absolutely diabolical]
[He is livid with you]
Kage scoffed dismissively.
’What a diabolical accusation from a diabolical person who helped usher in a diabolical world.’
Kage glared ahead.
"You lived in an era far worse than this. I’m not sure what Sovereign gods are exactly, but I know you exist far above the known Realms—meaning you were all the strongest in your time, perhaps even now. I know that the pilgrimage to the mountain closest to heaven is soaked in a path of blood. I’ve heard of the despicable acts committed along that path. You and your comrades sit at that very peak. I don’t assume you reached there by being saints."
He stared directly at the floating panel displaying Wolf of the North’s fury.
The panel flickered.
[The Wolf of the North clears his throat and looks away in slight embarrassment]
[Heretic Inquisitor of Eternal Truth erupts in laughter]
Kage’s lips twisted with mild disdain before he focused on other matters.