Chapitre 290

A fierce wind slammed into Ilhwan. Plunging off the cliff, he cut through the dense mist, free-falling to the depths below.

There was no fear in his expression as he plummeted headlong. He didn’t even consider using mana for something as trivial as this, let alone feel panicked. He had been through far, far worse in the past.

I think falling behind was the beginning.

In a past now forgotten by everyone, he had been a hunter who had awakened in the early days of the Great Cataclysm. Back then, people like him hadn’t even been called “hunters.” There hadn’t been an official ranking system at the time either. Sometimes when Ilhwan looked back on those days, he wondered what rank he might have been. No hunter had been able to gauge the level of their power, since mana-measuring devices had not been invented yet.

Perhaps that was the reason everyone was able to be so reckless. Nobody had known the extent of their own power. Instead, they had voluntarily jumped into mysterious gates that could have been filled with any number of unknown dangers. Some had lost their lives in an instant when the dungeons turned out to be more than they could handle.

But looking back, there had been something strangely romantic about those times. That rash courage was possible because they couldn’t measure their own strength. They had rushed headlong into a world of mystery for one reason—to protect Earth.

Then the gates closed, and I was left alone in a dungeon.

Ilhwan had fallen behind the others. He had been isolated. And then, as he wandered aimlessly through the dimensional rift, the Rulers had appeared before him.

The duty that was given to him after that was of no concern to him anymore. It was all in the past. But after he had been lucky enough to receive their help and return to Earth, he had discovered that he had become a terrible husband and father.

I was a failure of a husband. A failure of a father.

Perhaps it was out of guilt or a sense of debt that Ilhwan began to fight even harder, going further to risk his life to protect his son.

Now that time had become nothing more than a fragment of history forgotten by the world, but it didn’t mean he had forgotten as well. He could never forget the wrongs he had committed against his family. His guilt, his helplessness, and the weight of his irresponsible actions as the head of his household still sat heavy on his heart.

And that’s why…

“I’m going to protect them this time. No matter what it takes.”

At least in this life, he would not repeat his past mistakes.

Filled with resolve, Ilhwan ran through the foggy forest, his face set in a grim expression.

The Apostle of Paradise was taken aback after offering the fruit to the little girl. It carried an intoxicating scent that was even more irresistible to those with deep, unsatisfied desires in their souls. This alluring mana that radiated specifically toward those starved souls was what made the Feeder Plants so dangerous.

But the girl simply turned the fruit down.

“No thanks.”

“What…?”

The apostle froze, wondering if he had misheard. But hadn’t—the girl showed no reaction whatsoever to the Elvenwood fruit.

“Mrs. Director told us not to take anything from strangers.”

It was a logical response. This was one sharp child. But the apostle was momentarily thrown off.

How?She’s just a young, weak human!What’s more, she has lost her parents. Her soul has been deprived! How is she able to withstand the temptation?

“In any case, if you’re a visitor, you should go to the director’s office over there! I’m going to eat curry.”

As soon as the girl finished speaking, she began to dart off, her short legs carrying her toward the cafeteria.

“Hold on a…”

For a minute, the apostle was unsure how to react. Of course, he could simply grab her by the nape of her neck, force her mouth open, and shove the fruit inside if he wanted to. But he felt a twist of unease at the thought. How could a mere creation living in the confines of an orphanage withstand the temptation of a Feeder Plant?

“W-wait, the director? Who is she?” the apostle asked.

“Huh…?”

Hearing the question from behind her, the little girl abruptly stopped mid-run and turned around to face him. Her eyes, which had been firm and unyielding when she refused him, now sparkled.

“Mrs. Director? Hmm…”

The question must have been too abrupt, since the girl became lost in thought. With a grave look, she did her best to answer. She was hungry for lunch, yes—but this was a guest.

“Well, she’s… Hmm…”

Children loved to talk about their favorite things with others. The old woman who had founded the orphanage was the little girl’s favorite person, and she was confident she could answer any question about her.

“Well… A long time ago Mrs. Director had a son, but one day he just disappeared! I guess that’s not special. I mean, every teenager runs away from home at least once, right?”

“Wait, that’s not what I wanted—”

“No, just listen.”

The apostle fell silent.

The girl continued, “So Mrs. Director searched everywhere for him! She worked so hard to find him! And then he finally came back all on his own, after two whole years! Amazing, right?”

Not even the Apostle of Paradise was able to stop this chatty girl once she had gotten started.

Simply killing her would have been easier, but that wasn’t the problem—it was the nature of her soul. The apostle was confused. His hand was still outstretched, holding the fruit out to her—yet she hadn’t so much as glanced at it.

Does she really lack nothing?

It was odd. The girl was much too cheerful for someone living in an orphanage.

The apostle found himself mesmerized by her chatter and the innocence of her soul. But because the girl was hungry, she was talking as quickly as she could—and even babbling on about how a child running away was “no big deal” and that eventually coming back was “amazing.” The apostle felt it would probably be much easier to simply tear off her head altogether.

“So anyhow! Mrs. Director was trying so hard to find her son. Even after he came back, she still kept thinking about kids like us! And so she eventually founded this place—the Yangpyeong Children’s Home! Ta-da!”

The girl exhaled. With an utterly satisfied look on her face, she beamed as if she had just delivered the most incredible introduction in the world.

“Oh, also, her real name is Park Kyunghye!”

“A human’s name is of no concern to—”

The apostle stopped short. Then his lips slowly curled into a smile.

“Wait… Did you say Park Kyunghye?”

“Yes! That’s her name! Anything else you wanna ask? If you have no more questions, I’m going to eat now.”

“Then this fruit—”

“Forget it! I don’t want it!”

Having finished what she wanted to say, the child raced off toward the cafeteria again. But unlike before, the apostle was smiling brightly.

“Well, well. What are the odds?”

It was quite the coincidence. He no longer cared about that girl or her soul. He had just discovered far better prey.

Yangpyeong Children’s Home.Park Kyunghye.

Both of those names had been in the materials Yuri had given him.

“This is where I can start.”

He planted the fruit he had planned to feed the girl in the orphanage’s garden, pouring his divine power into the soil.

Immediately, the earth darkened as the land was infected. The Feeder Plant’s sprout popped through the earth, its leaves unfurling hungrily. The once-clean soil was slowly stained a dark purple as the roots of an Elvenwood slithered across the earth like pulsing veins.

Suddenly, the apostle faltered as a wave of dizziness slammed into him.

“Ugh! Sung Suho, that bastard!”

It was unclear what Suho was up to in North Korea, but the apostle felt his remaining gardens being wiped out one after another. The energy they had been feeding him was vanishing at an alarming rate.

The apostle ground his teeth, his expression murderous.

“I have no time to lose.”

This was a race against the clock. Either his home base would be destroyed, or he would do the same to Suho’s home first.

For now things were fine. The apostle had gardens in countries beyond North Korea. But his enemy’s family—his entire family—was right here in Yangpyeong.

Standing in front of the Yangpyeong Children’s Home, the apostle exuded a powerful wave of divine power and roared, “Rise, Elvenwood!”

He had decided. The orphanage would be the perfect sacrifice for the new Elvenwood.

“Sung Suho! If you burn down everything I have, then I will turn your entire family into my playthings!”

The apostle had no time to waste. He accelerated the tainting process.

Around the orphanage where he stood, the world began to twist and deform under his influence. The trees’ trunks began to grow into grotesque, writhing forms. Their hideous branches spread out like a spiderweb, intertwining with one another and forming a nest-like enclosure around the orphanage garden.

Meanwhile, the apostle entered the building to find Park Kyunghye. He could hear the sound of loud chatter echoing from the cafeteria.

“Wow! Did you make this curry yourself, Mrs. Park?”

“This is amazing! Mrs. Director, your kimchi is the best, by the way!”

The apostle’s eyes gleamed. An old woman was standing with the children.

“There she is.”

Park Kyunghye.

Yuri had given him a photograph of the same woman, informing him that she was Suho’s grandmother. Here she was, seated with the children in the cafeteria.

The apostle pointed a single finger at them, and a root burst forth from the floor.

“Aaah!”

“Wh-what the…!”

The cafeteria was filled with the screams of children, terrified by the sudden turn of events. The sickly, pulsing root coiled around Kyunghye, yanking her into the air.

“Mrs. Park!”

“Mrs. Park, watch out!”

The children grabbed at the root, desperately trying to pull her free. But despite her own peril, Kyunghye only thought of their safety.

“You must run, children!”

“No!”

“We can’t leave you here!”

With tears in their eyes, the children gathered around the root even more. They, too, were eventually caught and entangled in the roots. Despite this, they still seemed intent on somehow helping her.

The director was precious to them. She made them a hot breakfast every morning and nursed them through the night when they were ill. When they were sad, she wrapped her arms around them and held them close. To the children who were left alone without parents, Kyunghye was everything.

In the midst of the chaos, one of the quicker-thinking children shouted to the others, “Wait! Does anyone have their phone? Call the association!”

Another child, still caught in the grip of the monstrous roots, struggled as they fished their phone out of their pocket. The attempt was fruitless, of course. With just a flick of the apostle’s fingers, a root lashed out and struck the child’s hand, and the phone tumbled to the ground.

“I have no use for interruptions,” the apostle said. He strolled leisurely across the tainted space, his expression relaxed. “This moment is mine alone.”

He approached Kyunghye, who was bound tightly by the roots. He then produced a new red fruit and held it up to her lips.

“Eat.”

“Wh-who are you?” Kyunghye stammered, confusion evident in her voice.

The apostle didn’t answer. There was only one thing he wanted.

“If you don’t eat it, I will kill everyone here.”

Terror dawned on the old woman’s face. This pleased the apostle more than anything, but he knew exactly how to make this moment even more satisfying.

“Actually, no. I won’t just kill them. I will tear them apart, one piece at a time. I will start with their fingers, then their arms. Then…”

“I-I’ll eat it! Please stop!” Kyunghye shouted, giving him the answer he had been waiting for.

The apostle’s grin broadened. “Yes. Eat it. You are a human with no mana. One fruit should suffice.”

This woman, just like the villains of North Korea, would also become a beautiful new sprout for his garden.

With a sinister smile, he pried her mouth open, ready to force the fruit between her lips. He was filled with delicious anticipation. How would Suho, that detestable boy, react when he saw that his beloved grandmother was reduced to nothing more than an amusement?

But just as he was about to push the fruit past her lips, a chill swept through the apostle’s body. He instinctively pulled back.

The next moment, a figure tore through the cafeteria ceiling like a bolt of lightning. It landed directly between the apostle and Kyunghye.

“H-honey?”

Without hesitation, Ilhwan ripped apart the roots binding Kyunghye and pulled her into his arms.