Infinite Dendrogram - Volume 21 - Chapter 5

Chapter Five Opening: The King of Plagues Incident

February, 2045

In the world of Infinite Dendrogram, there existed nations that were referred to as the Seven Great Countries.

Altar, the Land of Knights.

Dryfe Imperium, the Land of Machines.

Huang He, the Empire of Hermits.

Tenchi, the Land of Blades.

Legendaria, the Fairyland.

Caldina, the Mercantile City-State Union.

Granvaloa, the Maritime Fleet.

All Masters, without exception, were required to start out in one of these seven, but that didn’t mean that they were the only countries that existed. If they were, they wouldn’t be called the Seven Great Countries, but just the Seven Countries.

The world of Infinite Dendrogram had a number of smaller countries besides these, and they were either in extremely remote locations or situated along the borders of the Seven. They were nations that the Seven had never seen any reason to conquer, or ones that were left alone because it was better not to claim them.

A good example of the former was the remote settlement said to exist within the Harshwinter Mountains—a tiny country with a name unknown to most.

It was a place widely thought to be trapped in a hellish world of ice and snow, menaced by ferocious landdragons and avians. The texts of old claimed that it existed, but no one from the Seven Great Countries had yet set foot in it. After all, there was nothing to be gained from invading it. Nothing could grow there, it wasn’t known to be rich in ore, and attempting to enter the area could provoke the local landdragons, potentially leading to the same dire fate northern Caldina had once suffered.

Thus, the tiny nation’s existence continued to be ignored.

After Masters had grown in number, though, some of them set out to these remote lands with the goal of simply exploring it. And while the unimaginably unwelcoming environment had forced most of them to retreat or given them the death penalty, there were rumors that a few adventurers had actually arrived at the settlement.

Even then, that place was still of no consequence to the Seven Great Countries.

On the other hand, there were countries that were known to all the Seven, yet unclaimed by any of them. These were largely city-states situated right on the borders between two or more of these mighty nations—countries composed of but one city and the small villages surrounding it. Even when put together, each of these tiny places controlled less land than a single city of the Seven. They had almost no military power to speak of, and if a war broke out between them and any of the Seven, they would certainly be annexed.

However, that had yet to happen.

This was because the benefits of keeping them around outweighed the benefits of conquering them.

For the Seven Great Countries, laying claim to one of these city-states would be seen as encroaching upon a border. That was bad enough when the small country in question was between just two larger nations, but it was even worse when it bordered three.

Simply invading even a tiny country like that could make an enemy of the two greater ones it stood next to.

Because of this, rather than risk provoking the other countries over such small patches of land, it was more beneficial to simply leave them as they were.

Mahem was one such tiny city-state.

Being one of the small lands situated right where Altar, Legendaria, and Caldina’s borders met, it was an agrarian nation with idyllic scenery. Though they did not have much land, their farming—enhanced by earth magic and alchemy—allowed them to produce enough food to feed themselves a thousand times over, and they made a decent amount of money by exporting their excess food to their three neighbors.

Mahem had existed for centuries since the collapse of King of Kings Rockfell Adrasta’s rule, and it hadn’t changed even as the world was shaken by the recent increase in Masters. Even if these Masters stopped in Mahem from time to time, almost none of them stayed.

Or, rather, staying here was difficult for them.

This was because Mahem and other small countries like it had no save points.

The reason the Seven Great Countries were called that wasn’t just because of how much land they controlled or their power as nations—it also referred to the fact that they had cities or even villages with save points.

Meanwhile, the small countries didn’t have them even in their capitals. They were not only small in size and influence, but couldn’t even function as hometowns for Masters.

On the other hand, though, this meant that Mahem’s land was incredibly fertile without the need for the environmental benefits of a save point, so perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all.

The country also wasn’t subjected to very many monster attacks. It could perhaps be described as a haven of peace on a turbulent continent.

The people of Mahem believed that they would always live like this—that this life would never end.

◇

“I’m sooo bored.” The day was calm and clear. Sitting atop a hill in a field of grass, a young boy muttered these unremarkable words to himself.

The boy’s name was Mahr.

He was the second son of a rancher living in a village belonging to the nation of Mahem, and he’d just turned ten years old this year.

He was currently watching over a number of Cotton Sheep—sheeplike monsters they raised—while they feasted on the grass in the field. He was helping with the family business, which was an activity that had become all too familiar for him a long time ago.

Lying down next to him, fast asleep, there was a Demi-Dragon-tier monster, Demi-Drac-Hound. It was a tamed monster that Mahr’s father had bought from a traveling merchant from Caldina, and they now used the creature as a sheepdog. A single glare from it was enough to make the Cotton Sheep fall in line, and it was strong enough to deal with most of the wild monsters that might attack them. The same applied to any potential sheep thieves, though these were quite rare.

The Demi-Drac-Hound had a menacing name and visage, but with no danger in sight or work to do right now, it was just sleeping at Mahr’s side. Still, if the sheep tried running away somewhere, it would certainly wake up and instantly set them straight. It was very well trained and attached to its owners.

“I’m sooo bored...” Mahr repeated.

It wasn’t an uncommon thing to hear out of him, and it only made him feel more melancholy. Mahr believed that he would spend all his years helping with the family business.

However, being the second son, he wouldn’t even inherit the ranch. He would either live his whole life as a farmhand here, or marry into some other ranching or farming family without any sons.

“I heard there’s lots of amazing things happening in the big countries...” The village Mahr lived in was a small one, but the occasional merchants and bards that stopped by informed them of the things that happened in the Seven Great Countries.

They would present them in the form of foreign newspapers or bard songs, among other things.

The stories Mahr heard had surprised him greatly.

A massive white whale monstrosity that had attacked the country floating on the sea.

A three-headed golden dragon that had terrorized the kingdom.

A civil war in the imperium, fought for the imperator’s throne.

And lastly, the war between Altar and Dryfe.

While these stories filled the adults and the girls with dread, Mahr was overwhelmed with excitement.

After all, such terrifying stories always came with some real heroism.

The explosive Master who slew the white whale.

The three top-rankers who defeated the three-headed golden dragon.

The gargantuan beast that had been instrumental in both the civil war and the true war behind it, shattering even a meteor.

Upon hearing the stories of such champions, Mahr found himself wanting to become like them.

However, he wasn’t a Master, but a tian, and he didn’t know how he could become a Master. In fact, he didn’t even know that there was no way for tians to become Masters.

As a child, he couldn’t even embark upon a profession of his own, and it wasn’t clear if he had the talent to become a champion.

I doubt I have what it takes anyway, Mahr thought. While he did wish to become a hero like that, he wasn’t quite childish enough to think that he could actually accomplish that goal without any evidence he was capable of it. But this just gave him more room to think.

The stormy world of champions and his unchanging daily life.

His dream to live as a champion and the reality which wouldn’t allow it.

Simply making such comparisons filled Mahr with sadness. It made him realize just how narrow his future was.

“...guess I’ll head back now.” When the sheep had eaten their fill, Mahr stood up.

The Demi-Drac-Hound also woke up, let out a bark, and rushed toward the sheep before leading them to follow after Mahr.

This wouldn’t have been necessary if they simply put the sheep in Jewels like tamed monsters, but they didn’t.

In fact, these sheep weren’t even actually tamed.

The reason for that was simple—there were too many of them. Since they numbered in the dozens, managing them using one’s limited party slots and minion capacity was difficult, especially if you weren’t a combatant.

Because of this, instead of taming them and using Jewels, the sheep were simply domesticated and kept on the ranch. This came with the added benefit of the monsters still dropping items if they died.

This method had been taught to people long ago by a person known as “Farm Cat.” Living after the destruction of the pre-ancient civilization, he was an important figure who’d spread the knowledge of this new stock farming method to the entire world.

Would I have to do something this boring if he’d never existed? Mahr wondered, venting his frustrations on what was clearly the wrong target.

When Mahr and the sheep returned to the village, though, he found it in a bit of a stir. However, it didn’t seem like they were panicking. Instead, the people looked surprised and happy. It reminded Mahr of how it looked like when traveling merchants or bards stopped by.

“Ah! Mahr! What took you so long?!” Upon noticing Mahr, his brother—three years older than he was—ran up to him.

“What’s happening here?”

“The village has a guest again, but it’s a big deal! Someone amazing! Someone special!”

Mahr couldn’t understand what was amazing or special here. His brother was so excited that he didn’t even manage to say the most important bit.

“What’s amazing?” Mahr asked.

“I’m telling you, we got someone big!”

As Mahr considered blurting out “Just tell me who,” his brother finally calmed down and said...

“The Hero has come!”

Indeed...that was certainly someone special.

◇

The Hero.

That word held a special meaning to tians.

It referred to a Special Superior Job that had appeared many times throughout history—a person who possessed immense power.

The Heroes were granted that strength from the moment they were born into this world. Wielding blades, using magic, and blessed with prodigious skill, they were said to be both well-rounded and incredibly powerful.

Another notable thing about The Hero job was that it wasn’t picky.

While Sacred King, Imperator Machina, The Saint, and Draconic Emperor could only manifest within certain bloodlines, The Hero didn’t discriminate, letting even the children of the most lowly people become special. It was possible for anyone to be born with the mantle.

Because of this, tian commoners—and even some nobles—saw The Hero as a symbol of hope.

And that was why, when the current bearer of this job arrived at Mahr’s village, everyone there welcomed him with open arms. They even held a welcome party in the village’s only hall, where every inch of the table was covered in food.

Not a single villager missed the chance to participate, and Mahr was no exception. He intently listened to everything The Hero had to say.

“Oh! So you’ve arrived here all the way from Tenchi?”

“Yes. I’m on a journey to train and broaden my horizons. My current destination is the western end of the continent.”

The Hero, who was staying with the village chief for the time being, was a youth not even two decades old. His long black hair that he kept tied back and his name—To’ori Kusanagi—spoke of his origins in Tenchi. Mahr couldn’t even begin to imagine the length and magnitude of his journey.

“What will you do when you get there?” a child asked, excited.

“I will then turn toward the south and head to Legendaria,” The Hero kindly replied. “And once I’ve arrived...I believe I will head to the Harshwinter Mountains.”

Those words were met with expressions of astonishment.

The traveler was as courageous as you would expect someone called a hero to be. Most common folk would think his journey impossible, but he was the kind of person who made everyone believe he could accomplish such a feat.

“Hey! Hey! What kinda places have you been to?!”

“Have you seen deserts?”

“What about the sea?”

“Very well,” The Hero said. “I will tell you of my journey. Upon leaving Tenchi, I...”

Seemingly accustomed to people begging for stories of his adventures, he began to speak—and described sights the likes of which Mahr and the other villagers had never before witnessed.

There was the warrior he’d encountered on the Strait Sea separating Tenchi from the continent, right after taking off, who was nothing more than empty armor.

There was the martial artist he’d met in Huang He’s mountains—one whose skills were so overwhelming that his lack of a weapon meant nothing in combat.

There was the magic he’d seen in Caldina, so immense it shook the earth and blocked out the skies.

It wasn’t only battles that he spoke of. He also described the beauty of the sea when he looked back at his homeland after crossing it, as well as the majesty of the mountains in Huang He. And when he mentioned the dragon he’d met and tamed during his journey, the children began pestering him to show it.

He described all of this in language so eloquent that the listeners felt as though they could see everything with their own eyes. Perhaps The Hero also would have been quite qualified for the Bard job.

One strange thing about his stories, though, was that he spent most of his time praising those he’d fought and the sights he’d witnessed. Instead of elaborating on his own achievements, he spoke of the wonderful things he’d found throughout his journey. But because his stories had a sense of presence that would put actual bards to shame, his listeners simply became enthralled regardless, expressing no complaints with anything he said.

By the end, nearly every villager was satisfied. Because it was turning late, the welcome party came to a close.

Following the special night they’d just experienced, the villagers returned to their homes, all of them wearing happy expressions.

All, that is, except Mahr.

◇

“Ngh...”

Upon returning home, Mahr got into bed, yet found himself unable to sleep. His head was a mess, he felt queasy—overall, he was in no state to rest.

This was all because he was jealous.

The Hero To’ori Kusanagi. A man who was nothing like Mahr.

It wasn’t just the job he’d been born with. To’ori’s manner of speech, his behavior, the path he’d walked thus far—all of it made him the spitting image of Mahr’s ideal champion.

Up until now, Mahr had only heard of such heroes in stories. Now that he’d finally encountered someone truly special, though, the difference between the two of them made Mahr want to cry.

Lying in complete silence, Mahr began to feel like staying in bed would only end up making him sweat, and that would make it even more uncomfortable.

That was why, careful not to wake up his brother on the top bunk, Mahr slowly snuck out of the house.

Caressed by the chilly night wind, Mahr walked around his home. It was all he could do to try and cool himself off, if only a little bit. Thankfully, it was a clear night with bright stars and the moon high in the sky, both shining upon Mahr’s path through the darkness of the night.

He walked without direction until he stumbled upon a small bridge over the village’s river.

“Huh?”

Ahead, Mahr saw another person with starlight cascading over them.

He’d assumed everyone would’ve been asleep at this hour, but then he remembered that this was a special day where they’d been visited by The Hero. Perhaps the figure was just someone who drank too much and stayed up.

Should I say something? They could fall in the river if they’re too drunk. Or would they just get mad at me for walking out at night?

As that thought ran through Mahr’s head, he drew closer, only to realize that it wasn’t a drunkard—in fact, it wasn’t even a villager.

“...Mister Hero?”

“Oh?” Standing on the bridge, looking down at the river reflecting the night sky, was none other than The Hero from a distant land, To’ori Kusanagi. “I believe I saw you in the crowd earlier. What are you doing out so late at night?”

Despite his audience being but a single child, To’ori spoke as courteously as he had back in the hall.

“Taking a walk,” Mahr replied, his expression unreadable.

“Ha ha...as am I,” To’ori said, not minding the look on Mahr’s face. “The beautiful night scenery inspired me to walk around a bit.”

The sights around him had long since become completely mundane to Mahr, and The Hero’s words made him feel a little dejected. He began to wonder if all of this simply looked different to someone as special as To’ori.

A brief silence followed, soon broken by To’ori. “Would you like to talk a little?” he said as he beckoned Mahr closer.

Mahr hesitated for a moment, but then he realized what an incredible opportunity it was to talk to The Hero one-on-one.

Mahr nodded before approaching him. Silence resumed as the two of them looked down at the river.

The Hero said nothing. It was as though he was waiting for Mahr to talk first.

Perhaps the only reason To’ori had invited Mahr to talk was because he was worried about the boy walking out at night all by his lonesome.

Unable to bear the silence, Mahr eventually broke it—and what he said first could easily pass for idle grumbling.

He spoke of how his daily life was a repeating chain of boredom.

He pointed out how amazing things straight out of legend were unfolding outside the village, yet nothing like that was happening within it.

When he talked about how he was nothing but an ordinary child, the tone of his voice contained a bit of his jealousy toward The Hero.

Finally he concluded with the thoughts he’d had while looking after the sheep at noon—the lament that his future was too narrow.

To’ori did nothing but listen to Mahr, but then...

“You’re special, aren’t you?” Mahr quietly asked.

“I am,” To’ori replied with a nod. “The Hero is a vessel of talent.”

“A vessel?”

“One of the skills I possess as The Hero is called Almighty. It grants me the ability to wield any low- and high-rank jobs, and it lets me claim up to a hundred of each. Along with that, I also have Full Link, which allows me to use skills from all sub jobs.”

“HUH?!” To’ori’s words filled Mahr with shock. The adults had told him that the most any person could have was six low-rank jobs and two high-rank jobs—and even then, that only applied to those with talent. Those without it would have even fewer than that, and the jobs one could pick were always limited by one’s aptitude. Because of this, the number To’ori just said was simply outrageous.

“So you can take any job?”

“Indeed. I currently have over eighty low-rank jobs. High-rank jobs have conditions for claiming them, so I only have eight of those. For most of the low-rank jobs, though, I haven’t done much more than just take them, so my total level is only slightly above 1,000.”

“But that’s...” ...Unfair, Mahr thought.

To’ori could take dozens of jobs, no matter what they were. The difference between him and everyone else was so staggering that it bordered on injustice. And this gap was decided merely by whether you were born as The Hero or not.

This uncrossable divide had existed between Mahr and To’ori since the very moment they had both come into this world.

“That’s true. It is unfair,” The Hero said, as though he’d read Mahr’s mind—or perhaps his many jobs contained skills that indeed enabled him to do something like that. It was notable, though, that his manner of speech was more relaxed than it had been before. “It’s an extraordinary talent. Nothing is impossible to The Hero, and the level I can reach is unimaginably high. I can do anything. I can freely choose how to live my life.”

Mahr had no response to that. Those words sounded so much like boasting that they made him feel uncomfortable. However, what To’ori said next greatly surprised him.

“But back when I was in Tenchi, I really couldn’t do anything at all, nor choose my own path.”

“Huh?” Mahr turned to look at To’ori’s face, and saw that he wore a somewhat sad expression.

“My homeland...Tenchi is a place constantly embroiled in conflict. There’s always some dispute between daimyos, and even individual martial artists regularly compete with one another. It’s a country where people keep killing each other to gain power or display that power to the world. This is because they know that killing people is the easiest way to become stronger. You kill people to gain strength, then people kill you because you’ve become so strong. This is why people often call Tenchi the land of strife—the land of asura.”

Mahr was already aware of this. He knew Tenchi as a very distant land full of warriors, and such portrayals of the country stirred his imagination and filled his heart with excitement...

“I had many people try to claim my life...and in turn, I claimed theirs.”

...but To’ori didn’t seem to feel that way.

“I’m not fundamentally against such battles to the death,” To’ori continued, “but if that’s all I have, then...the future seems awfully narrow, don’t you think?”

“Huh?” That was the same word Mahr himself had used.

“I happened to be born with great power as The Hero—a power that makes anything possible for me. However, while in Tenchi, I had only one way to use my abilities—only one future I could see for myself. I could only walk on the path of strife and battle. I might have been special, as you say, but I couldn’t choose my future.”

In a brief silence that followed, Mahr realized that despite their circumstances being nothing alike, To’ori was troubled by a problem similar to his.

“I didn’t like that,” To’ori muttered as he looked up at the night sky, as though revealing the true depths of his heart. “I thought that if I trained myself some more, traveled the world, experienced more things, and then came back home...I might’ve been able to see a future I hadn’t seen before.”

In some ways, this seemed like just another path of strife, but in other ways this was the complete opposite of the life To’ori had lived.

“You thought? What do you think now?” Mahr asked.

“I don’t know at the moment. My journey isn’t over yet. Though I do wish that I could find the answer and choose my own life someday.”

“I see.” Just like Mahr lived with dreams of champions and heroes, To’ori too might have always yearned for something different. He’d dreamed of the world outside Tenchi, thinking that he would find an answer if he left. But just as he’d described in his stories, there was ample combat outside his homeland too.

He hadn’t found an answer yet, but he continued his journey, still searching for his own way.

The silence returned, giving Mahr time to think. He was just an ordinary boy, while To’ori was more talented than anyone else.

Despite this, he felt like there were similarities between them. To’ori must’ve felt the same way—perhaps that was why he’d talked so much about himself.

“Tomorrow...” Mahr began to speak.

“Huh?”

“Tomorrow, I’m gonna take the sheep out for grazing. If you’ve never done that...you can come with me.”

Mahr had thought about what he could do for To’ori and had come upon that suggestion—one that would perhaps point The Hero toward a path he had yet to try.

“Oh, I certainly will,” To’ori nodded in response, his joy evident on his face.

◇

A week passed, and To’ori stayed in the village for the entirety of it. It was longer than he’d planned to stay, but he was nonetheless enjoying the idyllic life alongside Mahr and the other villagers. Times this peaceful were rare in his homeland, and he wished to experience it to its fullest.

Still, he could not stay here forever. This was the last day before he would finally head off again.

The Hero or not, traveling in this world was dangerous, and it wasn’t clear whether he could ever visit this village again. That was why he wanted to spend his last day here without regrets.

“All right. It’s harvest day today, isn’t it?” To’ori had grown close to Mahr and the other villagers, and he emerged from the room he’d been staying in looking forward to experiencing what might be the last memory he’d make with them all.

“Good morning, Chief.”

“Ohh, Sir To’ori. Good morning.”

Even the village chief now addressed him by name. It was yet another sign of how familiar he’d become with this village.

For some reason, though, the chief was looking through the window with a somewhat perplexed expression.

“What’s the matter?”

“Well...today’s morning newspaper hasn’t arrived yet. That’s unusual, because the press in the capital is usually quite early,” the chief said, his hands held up in resignation.

The village being as small as it was, the newspaper company didn’t have a branch there, so newspapers were brought in by avian creatures specialized in stealth.

“I suppose it could just be that the delivery monster took the wrong turn, or maybe it dropped the newspapers somewhere. Regardless, now that you are awake, let’s have breakfast.”

Saying that with a smile as broad as a jester’s, the chief urged To’ori to sit at the table, which was already covered in food. To’ori did as he was told, joining the chief, his wife, and his children for breakfast.

By the time they were done eating, they heard the flapping of bird wings outside.

“Oh? I suppose it’s finally arrived.”

“Hm?” While the chief simply assumed that the newspaper was late and went outside to pick it up, To’ori felt as though something wasn’t right. The flapping was very unsteady, and the breathing accompanying it was awfully wheezy.

The next moment, To’ori heard the chief let out a fearful shout.

Not wasting a second, To’ori sprung to action, using Instant Equip and Instant Wear to ready his gear before rushing outside. While his perception skills didn’t activate, the chief’s reaction was more than enough for him to understand that something serious was happening.

However, when he went outside, he didn’t find any threat that warranted him gearing up for combat.

“G h...g e g h...g e e y u i...” What To’ori found was a single bird, spitting blood and other fluids as it flapped its wings in utter derangement.

The bird had a bag with a newspaper company’s name attached to its leg. It flew—or rather, fell—as blood from its mouth and feathers from its wings rained down.

Soon enough, the bird let out a pained noise, and its life expired. The blood, the feathers, and everything else that remained of it vanished into bits of light.

“Th-This is...!” The fasteners on the bag attached to it were undone, and the newspapers inside had fallen out.

All of them were covered in blood that hadn’t disappeared—tian blood.

And among it all, there was a single piece of paper, covered in hastily written text, containing information that someone must’ve used their last strength to write.

It said, “DEADLY DISEASE SPREADING IN CAPITAL. DANGER.”

◆◆◆

Minor Country, Mahem, Capital, Three Hours Ago

Mahem was a tiny country.

Compared to Altar, all Mahem had was a single midsize city and villages so few they could be counted on one hand. It was likely smaller than Gideon Country, and that was only a part of the great kingdom of Altar.

Still, because it was blessed by a temperate climate, Mahem had always been home to many tians.

Its location between three large countries and powerful monster habitats had made expansion impossible, but it had existed as a very peaceful country ever since the end of The Era of the Peerless Three a few centuries ago.

It had become part of Mahem’s culture to live steadily and earnestly. Everyone from the king to the lowest peasant had always thought that if they merely did that, they would continue to exist even if the rest of the world fell apart.

That was why none of them anticipated an end like this.

That day, a man working at the newspaper company woke up in the dead of night coughing, with an uncomfortable feeling in his mouth. He went to his workplace after taking some medicine that improved disease resistance, but it seemed to have little effect—in fact, his condition only got worse.

He looked around and noticed that less than half of his coworkers had come to work, and all of those who did seemed to be feeling just as terrible as he did.

“Is this...an Epidemic?” That was the first thing that came to his mind. Epidemics were diseases that took communities by surprise, negatively affecting people regardless of their stats or resistances.

They always affected some people more than others, but this one seemed worse than most. “Do we have time to replace the front page article with one about this Epidemic?” he said, punctuated with coughing. The Secretaries with printing skills were already using them to produce the morning newspapers, but he felt that it might’ve been better to warn the people of this danger as soon as possible.

Maybe we could add it into the blank spaces on the page...? He thought of how to convey this information, only to see the sun begin to rise outside.

“Damn it. We didn’t make it in time.”

As a Tamer working for the company, he was supposed to send out the newspaper delivery monsters before dawn, but the disease had left too few people for them to accomplish that in a timely manner. The morning newspaper would most certainly be late now. They would have to add an apology as well.

As that thought crossed his mind, blood began to well up deep in his throat.

“Huh?” He stared blankly down at his own crimson blood, staining the newspaper on the desk.

It wasn’t just him. Everyone within the newspaper company was now vomiting blood.

No—it wasn’t just his colleagues either.

The few people he could see outside were all collapsing with blood gushing from their mouths, just like they were.

“Th-This is...fatal...?!” The disease that at first manifested as discomfort and coughing at most had become significantly worse with the rising of the sun.

It was too late, but the man finally realized that this was a far more potent disease than he’d first thought.

I-I should at least...warn the...surrounding villages...! He took a paper and hastily wrote down “DEADLY DISEASE SPREADING IN CAPITAL. DANGER” before throwing it in a newspaper delivery bag. Then, he removed a tamed monster from his Jewel, doused it in Elixir, and sent it to the nearby villages.

The only thing he hoped for now was to keep the villagers away from the capital.

Urged by his sense of duty as a member of the press, he’d sent out this dying message, not knowing who it would reach—or if it would even make it in time.

◇◇◇

Mahem, Village

A bird that had died before their eyes, and the message from the bag.

To’ori instantly understood the meaning behind the words, as well as the obscene amount of blood, and his face went pale.

This is bad! It’s contagious...! Considering the possibility that the blood itself could be a carrier of the pathogens, he instantly cast a flame spell, creating a fireball that incinerated the bag.

He acted fast—the bag was set alight and disinfected the instant he saw what was written on that piece of paper.

“Did that do it...?” Saying that, To’ori checked by using his Full Link to activate another skill.

It was Disease Eye, a skill that came from his job as Plaguemancer, which he’d picked up at one point because it was useful in helping people. It was an active skill that let him perceive harmful pathogens by tinting them a reddish color.

He used it to observe the area around the incinerated and sterilized bag.

“Ah...!”

However, the entire scenery besides that patch was covered in red.

“Wh-What?!”

A swarm of disease was encroaching from the horizon like blood flooding the world. It grew and multiplied explosively, engulfing the entire country of Mahem.

The base of his feet was already bright red, and when he turned around, he saw the wave of sickness covering nearly the entire hill on which the village stood—and it showed no signs of stopping.

With that, To’ori realized that the flying monster might not have been infected by the minuscule amount of pathogens in the bag. Instead, it might have been overwhelmed by the flood that had crawled over all the way from the capital.

What that meant was...

“Cough, cough...!”

“Ah! Chief!” The village chief, standing behind To’ori, suddenly began to cough up blood and fell to the ground. A steady stream of red flowed from his mouth as he stared with unfocused eyes and clawed at the air, looking for something—or someone—to help him.

In other words, he was looking for To’ori.

The Hero rushed over to him immediately before dousing him in one bottle of Elixir, letting him drink another, and casting a healing spell.

However, he was too slow. The Elixir seemed to have little effect, and the damage being done to the chief’s body outpaced the healing from the spell as he continued to cough.

To’ori used every means of recovery available to him, but they barely even slowed the disease down.

And so, within just ten seconds or so, the chief’s life was snuffed out.

However, it didn’t stop at that.

Unlike monsters, who disintegrated as soon as they died, tian bodies remained untouched.

Or rather, that was how it was supposed to work.

And yet, the chief’s body was now being disassembled—as though countless tiny creatures were tearing it apart and consuming it.

The flesh on his body vanished with terrifying speed, leaving only his blood, bone, and hair.

“This...this is...!” As To’ori voiced his horror at the scene, he heard similar sounds coming from the chief’s home. His family must’ve just died in the same way.

And it wasn’t just them.

To’ori looked over the village, painted red by his Disease Eye, a clamor of pain and anguish now reaching him.

If those shouts were caused by the same thing that he had just witnessed, then he might as well have been gazing at hell itself.

“Gh...!” Blood began to well up in the corners of To’ori’s mouth, signifying that he might have been infected. It had a minor effect on him, but that was only because of his Poison Resistance skill and vast HP provided by his over 1,000 levels. If it weren’t for those things, this disease would’ve claimed him just like the others.

“No...this isn’t...” To’ori muttered to himself. Indeed—this was no mere “disease.”

This was a deliberate attack.

To’ori had lived in Tenchi, the land of strife, for nearly ten years, and that allowed him to sense this fact clearly.

“The Resources are moving.” People killing other people resulted in a greater movement of Resources—XP—than when the killing was done by monsters, and any martial artist who was proficient enough—by Tenchi standards, at least—was able to perceive this movement.

Now, To’ori was able to sense that movement. He could feel the Resources from the chief who’d died right before his eyes flowing into the distance—to the one who’d killed him.

“Instant Wear.” With those words, a piece of equipment appeared on To’ori head.

It was a helm called Prototype Horobimaru-Star Helmet—the piece of equipment he’d acquired while crossing the sea between Tenchi and the continent, where he’d encountered and defeated a suit of empty armor—the SUBM, Penta-Phased Destroyer, Horobimaru. This item had a curious skill that allowed him to see his enemies—a skill called Anti Stealth.

He activated this power and viewed his foe with perfect clarity. In Mahem’s capital, there stood a boy, sneering with unadulterated glee.

With the enemy’s presence confirmed, this was no longer a natural disaster but a massacre enacted by human hands.

“The foe is in my sight.”

To’ori stared at the person who’d slaughtered the people who had welcomed him with open arms.

They had to be avenged.

That was the law of Tenchi, which still held him in an iron grip. He’d lived within that law for most of his life. He’d killed those coming for his head because of his immense strength—his status as The Hero.

He was then targeted by the families of those he killed. And when he dealt with them, he had been confronted by their friends.

The more he tried to wipe away the sparks of conflict falling upon him, the more violent his life became. He’d left Tenchi exactly because he found himself hating the fact that his future—the path laid out for him—was stained in blood.

But in this moment, To’ori realized that he was still a true man of Tenchi. His very soul was roaring for him to kill this wretch who laughed as he slaughtered innocents.

With a face of an asura forged by strife, the kindhearted Hero fixed his eyes on the capital—and the evil he had to purge.

He poured all his strength into his legs, ready to dash toward the city at supersonic speeds...

“Ah!”

...but then something stopped him.

The image of a person flashed into his mind. It was Mahr—the boy he’d formed a connection with.

To’ori’s memories told him that his house was beyond that hill.

“Please be all right!” he cried, turning around and rushing to cross it. He was too late to help the village chief and everyone else on this side of the hill, but he thought—prayed—that he could maybe save at least someone.

Moving faster than sound, he cleared the hill in the blink of an eye—but the red wave had already arrived here, consuming the house that doubled as a ranch. From within it, he could hear a multitude of disturbing sounds and anguished voices.

The despair left To’ori speechless and barely able to stand.

But before he fell to his knees, he realized that there weren’t as many voices as there should be.

The disease had reached the ranch, yet he didn’t hear the cries of the many animals that lived there.

Rekindling his hope, he once again fixed his eyes on the horizon. There, beyond the red wave, he saw Mahr, watching over a number of peacefully grazing sheep.

“Ah!” He could still make it.

The moment he realized that, he gathered all his strength and jumped beyond the red wave.

This mighty step was the combination of The Hero’s countless skills and high stats—a method of closing distance that was faster than everything in Tenchi except the draw of The Unsheath Kashimiya.

To’ori used that skill to finally outrun the red wave, landing right between it and Mahr.

“Huh?!” Mahr exclaimed, surprised by To’ori’s sudden appearance, as well as his combat-ready attire. However, The Hero paid no heed to him and looked up at the sky.

“All right,” To’ori said. After confirming something, he held up the Jewel on his right hand, then spoke to the being inside.

“My friend—I release you. Our shared journey ends here.”

“I see,” the one inside replied, in a voice heavy with sorrow.

“I have one last request...”

“No need to say it. I understand. The kingdom, yes?”

“Yes. Release.”

Following this exchange, To’ori released the monster within the Jewel into the open air.

It was a single lightning dragon. Specifically, it was a dragon of the species High-End Lightning Dragon, and it was a friend To’ori had met on his journey. It was a curious sort of dragon who’d willingly let To’ori tame it after the two of them had traveled together for a while.

“Huh? What...?” To’ori’s sudden appearance and the dragon’s release—

Mahr couldn’t understand what was happening here.

However, To’ori no longer had any time to explain anything to the boy. The red wave behind him was getting close, and his own infected body was gradually shedding on the ground around him. Because of this, he couldn’t take Mahr with him and run.

The only one who could accomplish that was the lightning dragon, who’d avoided infection first by being in the safety of the Jewel, then by taking to the air, where the disease could not reach.

That was why To’ori had no choice but to entrust this task to the dragon. He knew he could count on him, and thus he didn’t hesitate.

Not saying a word, To’ori used wind magic to lift Mahr’s body into the air while keeping his distance from him.

Gently, like a balloon, Mahr’s body rose upwards.

“Wh-Whoa!” As the boy levitated, the lightning dragon gently grasped him in hand. “M-Mister To’ori! Wh-What’s...?!”

What was it that the boy tried to say in his confusion?

The red wave has already swarmed past To’ori’s feet.

The many animals, including the Demi-Drac-Hound they’d used as a sheepdog, were soon claimed by disease and vanished amid screams of anguish, spewing blood from their mouths.

The sudden event filled the boy with fear, but To’ori didn’t say anything to calm him down. He wished he could—there were many things he wished to talk about with Mahr—but the situation didn’t allow it. They had no time to speak.

“Goodbye, Mahr. I won’t forget you. You’re utterly unlike me, yet you bear the same pain...and I will never forget you.”

That was why, To’ori only said what was most important...

“So if you can...keep me in your memories too.”

...entrusting the boy with his last words.

Following that, the lightning dragon flapped its great wings, preparing to distance itself from the infected earth and take to the great skies beyond.

The lightning dragon looked down at To’ori one last time. “Farewell, To’ori, my dear friend.”

“Goodbye, Arcal. You were my friend as well.”

Following that exchange, they parted ways, knowing full well that they would never meet again.

“Mister To’o—” The dragon took off before Mahr could finish. Keeping the boy safe with an electromagnetic field, it—he—left the surface behind.

And thus, only To’ori was left in the village.

Nothing else remained. The only things alive here were him, the grass, the trees...and the pathogens.

In the end, To’ori had protected only one person, and doing so had cost him a significant amount of his remaining life span—his HP.

This disease was so fatal that Elixirs did nothing and healing magic was inadequate. It was clear that even if he focused his efforts on recovery spells, his life would still be over shortly.

However, he didn’t regret saving Mahr whatsoever.

What awaited the boy was a difficult future of pain and sorrow. Having lost his homeland and family, he may not know how to go on. But as long as he was alive...he could choose his future. He could take that next step forward.

“Now...time to go.” To’ori himself had no more choices to make, so he hoped that at least the boy would have a future he could claim as his own.

“This will be...my final journey.”

With those words, The Hero flew into action. Faster than the dragon’s flight, he rushed to defeat the foe beyond the horizon.

An asura forged by strife, The Hero was now a speeding arrow of judgment.

◆◆◆

The Capital of Mahem

By the time the dawn broke, even the sounds of anguish had vanished from the bloodstained city. Many had suffered as their bodies melted away, leaving only their bones behind.

“La la laa...”

But there was one person who wasn’t suffering in the least.

This individual was in the inner courtyard of Mahem’s modest palace, singing and twirling, their ostentatiously decorated dress fluttering as they sang in a high soprano.

It was as though they simply couldn’t contain the emotions welling up within.

“La laa...”

Their face was charming and youthful enough that it was difficult to tell if it belonged to a man or a woman, but most people wouldn’t be looking at their face on first meeting. Instead, their eyes would most likely be drawn to the extravagant clothing and the massive flask clutched in their hands. The dancing figure’s name was Candy Carnage—a Superior who wore the crown of King of Plagues. He was the very person who’d unleashed this deadly disease onto the country of Mahem.

“Look at my levels going up and up!” Candy looked at his stat summary and smiled gleefully.

This was because, just as he’d intended, many of the city’s tians had died. The very reason he was here in the palace, acting like he owned the place, was because any guards and servants who could stop him were all dead.

“Tians really do have the best XP efficiency! Doing this makes me sooo happy! It’s been way too long since the last time!”

His rising levels were proof of all the lives he’d snuffed out. But despite knowing that, Candy had a genuine smile on his face.

It didn’t seem like the happiness of a gamer relishing his level-ups, but of someone enjoying the massacre itself.

It wasn’t uncommon for players to have a good time absolutely dominating some NPCs, yet this was more like he actually...

“But this Collapsed Present is still incomplete. It doesn’t multiply half as well without extra energy from sunlight and heat... That’s something to think about.”

Candy’s joy faded somewhat as he suddenly began to ponder the problems surrounding the spread of this deadly disease.

Collapsed Present was the general term for carnivorous types of bacteria in his collection—the ones that physically consumed living beings. The ones that he’d released this time had a higher proliferation speed, but demanded more energy, forcing them to rely not only on the flesh and heat of the infected, but also some energy from external sources.

That was the price he’d paid so it could infect an area larger than the capital of a small country.

“Hmm...and there’s a limit to how much I can boost them up with my MP too. It’d be nice to have an energy source for them that’s more accessible than sunlight though. Well, I guess I might get something if I just level up some more!” Candy said, poking at the surface of the bulky measuring flask that was still spewing bacteria—his Superior Embryo, Pestilent Divinity, Resheph.

“This is great. My GODlike self gets levels, Resheph’s bacteria modding becomes more precise, and most importantly—this is fun to watch! I’m so glad I did this! I’m killing three birds with one stone!”

In the heart of this disaster, with the death count growing by the second, Candy’s excitement was sincere. And if that was the only thing he was excited about, perhaps he could have just been one of those ludos who didn’t see tians as people...

“I’d love to somehow bring Resheph from this world to Earth, but that doesn’t seem possible right now.”

...but his next words were peculiar, to say the least—if not completely absurd.

“There’s a bunch of my kind out there on Earth, but my GOD-ly self isn’t GODlike at all. I hope I don’t take too long to go back to being the GOD I used to be.”

If anyone listened to him, they likely couldn’t begin to understand what he was saying. They were neither the words of a ludo nor the words of a worlder.

It was as though to him, this world that the hardware of Infinite Dendrogram connected him to was nothing but another obstacle in his path he needed to trample over—as though he was a being capable of doing that in the first place.

“Getting a Superior Embryo wasn’t enough...but maybe I just need to go beyond it? What awaits at the end is the Infinite, anyway.”

The number of people who could understand this was no doubt even smaller, but Candy continued.

“Hmm? But if this is a little garden built by a different group of my kind, maybe if I just keep leveling up, I could bring over Resheph’s evolution with this body? This sweet little Candy avatar could become an Infinite Job, and I’d once again have the powers I used to. Either of those things would help me achieve my goal, I think. That would be great!”

In fact, perhaps there wasn’t a single person alive who could understand the full scope of Candy Carnage’s ramblings—not the custodians, not those who had inherited the memories of the pre-ancient civilization, not the current holders of the most powerful jobs. Even the control substitute might not be able to grasp it all.

“For now, I’ll just work toward a bright future by getting more XP!”

Regardless, Candy moved toward this future he’d imagined by destroying the future of an entire country.

“Why...would you...?”

“Oh?” As his rising levels once again made Candy grin, he heard someone call out to him from behind.

It was a single knight who’d crawled out from somewhere in the palace. Likely due to the Collapsed Present infection, his mouth and eyes were bleeding, and he lacked the strength to move any farther.

“I’m impressed you’re still alive. It’s been half an hour since the sun came up! Are you a Superior Job or something? How exciting! I’ll get lots of XP from you!”

The man was one of the leading knights of Mahem. Bearing the vanguard tank Superior Job, King of Shields, he wore his title proudly and served as his country’s greatest shield.

But not even he could protect the people from the disease that had spread here.

The civilians in the palace, his brothers-in-arms, the king, the queen...even the young prince had already perished. He’d survived, but he no longer had the strength to fight.

Still, he was able to sense the presence of someone living and dragged himself all the way to the inner courtyard, where he’d found the culprit behind all of this—Candy Carnage himself.

“Who...who are you...?! How...and why...did you...?!”

“Hmm, you know what? I’ll tell you. Consider it a gift to take with you into your next life. I guess it could fall on deaf ears, though.” In response to the man’s question, spoken through the blood filling his mouth, Candy grinned. Then, he gestured as if to say “You’re in for a treat,” and...

“Because I am GOD.”

...said that, his face now void of expression.

“G...God...?” The answer made no sense, but Candy behaved as if that were all that needed to be said.

“Okay, then—I guess I’ll have to explain a teensy bit more.” His expression twisted into a smile again as he began elaborating.

“My GOD-ly self is a GOD—but as I am now, I’m a GOD neither here nor on the other side. I don’t have enough Resources, so I’m getting them from this massacre. That’s my motivation. Now, the means. Resheph is an Embryo that modifies bacteria and spreads them. It’s specialized in mass murder like this. And so, uhh, since I created Resheph as my other half, I obviously don’t hate mass murder personally, right? Honestly, I’d love to do this on Earth too. Eight billion people is just way too much. I’d love to get those numbers lower, like I did in that world I graced with my GOD-ly presence some time ago. It’d be like the good old days when I hung around with the God of the Future and the God of Destruction.”

“Huh...uhh...huh?” The knight didn’t understand a word of the long monologue Candy spat out. There was no way he even could.

“Hrmm...I told you who I am, how I did it, why I did it, and even added a bit about my memories and my future dreams. I told you every little thing, yet you’re still totally lost! You’re a bit of a hopeless case, aren’t you? How very sad.”

Saying that, Candy walked up to the man, crouched down, grabbed his hair, stared into his eyes...

“Which do you think I am?”

...and posed him that question.

“Do you think I’m a scumbag who’s not right in the head and thinks he’s the reincarnation of a GOD,” Candy asked, “or a scumbag who’s not right in the head and actually is the reincarnation of a GOD?” Wearing a smile with no positive feeling behind it, Candy closed his eyes.

“Sorryyy! I dunno myseeelf! I have no clue if these memories are real, fake, delusions, or misapprehensiooons! Nobody knooows! Nobody understaaands! And those who don’t get it...they die!”

Saying all this as though he was singing, Candy opened his eyes again to look at the knight’s face.

And so...

“You’re dead toooo!”

The tian Candy was talking to had expired without understanding anything he’d said.

Candy then let go of his hair, letting the man’s lifeless face smash into the ground.

“Well, it’s stressful to keep all of that bottled up, so thanks for lending a dead ear.”

With that, Candy resumed looking at his stats.

He smiled, Resheph spread the disease, and the bacteria continued to multiply.

Eventually, all of Mahem was claimed by this plague, carried there by the malignant hands of someone who claimed to be god, recognized himself to be god, and seemed to possess the awareness of a god.

◇

By the time everyone in the capital had perished, there was one solitary silhouette heading toward it.

Moving on the surface faster than the eye could see, this figure was The Hero To’ori Kusanagi.

Continuously casting healing magic on himself, he was running as fast as he could. Every now and then, though, he let out a cough. His limit was approaching even faster.

He was already infected by the disease, Collapsed Present. It was a swarm of carnivorous bacteria that consumed the flesh and blood of the infected far more ravenously than any other.

The amount To’ori recovered with his magic was less than the damage he was receiving from Collapsed Present. Additionally, the damage created injury-based debuffs that reduced his body’s performance.

His sprinting speed was dropping, and he still wasn’t sure if he would even make it to the capital beyond the horizon.

“Not yet...!”

Regardless, he kept on running.

The Prototype Horobimaru-Star Helmet still had Candy in its sights, and To’ori felt he might be the only person who could actually see the real enemy.

And precisely because of that, To’ori strained what little life he had left to rush toward this foe. Supporting his body with the many passive and active skills he had at his disposal, he kept moving forward.

However, that was draining him too. The more skills he used to travel quickly, the less MP he had for healing magic.

His remaining life was melting away like a candle engulfed in a roaring blaze.

Still, he didn’t stop.

As he was speeding toward the capital, he saw a pair of skeletons seated on a coach. They clearly belonged to an adult and a child. Were they a family? With the tamed monster pulling it gone, the dragon carriage had nearly toppled over, yet the two corpses were still side by side.

Next to the houses along the road, there were some skeletons grasping farming tools. These were people who were ready to welcome a new day in their ordinary lives—a day they would never see.

And then there was the village he’d stayed in. He could still hear the gruesome sounds and anguished screams of the people who’d given him such a warm welcome.

Everything around the city of Mahem had been massacred, their futures cut off and extinguished.

This was an absolute evil that To’ori couldn’t stomach.

As The Hero—and merely as a person who hoped for the future himself—he rushed to cut down this foe.

Eventually, the walls of the capital entered his field of vision. His sworn enemy was close.

“Gh...!”

But then, his failing body reached a critical point. The bacteria had already consumed over half of the muscle on his legs. Bone was visible on his limbs and even his face.

He couldn’t keep up running at supersonic speeds, and he lost momentum just in sight of the capital.

“Not...yet...!”

Still, To’ori mustered his will and kept moving his legs. Bleeding from all over his body, his bones creaking audibly, he moved forward step by step. Eventually, the walls loomed large in front of him.

That was when his left arm fell off.

To’ori passed through the massive gate, forcing his legs to carry him forward even though he could barely run.

That was when his eyes fell out.

He followed the pavement, leaving a trail of blood behind him.

That was when he lost the power to stand and began to crawl.

Candy was in the palace—a mere two hundred metels away.

That was when To’ori completely ran out of MP, and he could no longer heal himself.

The collapse of his body accelerated.

Now, the flesh that he’d lost far exceeded the flesh that remained. The vast HP To’ori possessed as The Hero had dropped to critical levels.

Despite that, with eyes that couldn’t see, legs that couldn’t move, and only one arm...he kept moving toward Candy.

“Hh...hhhgh...” He didn’t even have a tongue to speak with anymore. The bacteria had consumed it all.

Even so, his soul and will kept choosing to move.

However...that would abruptly end.

To’ori’s HP dropped to 0. His life reached its end, leaving nothing but silence.

Unable to make it to his sworn enemy, The Hero To’ori Kusanagi breathed his last.

◆

“Hrmm? I guess that’s it...?” Candy said as he looked at his stats, somewhat disappointed. The levels that had been rising until now had grown stagnant for the past several minutes. “Well, I guess they killed everyone within their multiplication range. That’s that, then! I did get plenty of levels, so let’s go to a larger country next!”

After killing the entire country of Mahem, King of Plagues relished the massacre he’d just committed—in fact, he even considered repeating it on a grander scale.

“It’s probably hard to spread in Caldina’s desert, and I hear that Legendaria’s environment is weird, so...the kingdom it is, then.”

And just like that, he set Altar as his next target.

“Aaanyway, it’s off to the west we go!” Done with this place and clearly in high spirits, he finally decided to leave Mahem.

Humming a song, Candy skipped through the castle gates.

There, he ran into an asura—an embodiment of strife.

“Huh?” Candy doubted his own eyes.

It was dead. It was obviously dead. After all...it was nothing but bone, just like everyone else in this country.

It was a white skeleton, stripped bare of flesh and clad in Tenchi armor.

It would be easy to mistake it for an undead monster—but it was no monster at all.

It was the remains of one man, all that was left of him before he died.

It was the corpse of To’ori Kusanagi, animated by Last Command.

Tenchi was the land of strife. Many martial artists there wished to be able to deliver one last attack before death, and thus took the Death Soldier job far more often than people of other countries.

The Hero was no exception. He had fallen before reaching his sworn enemy...but reached him after dying.

“What—” Before Candy could even wonder what he was looking at, To’ori launched an attack.

It was a slash that carried the entire weight of this dead man’s life—a single flash of blade that used all his remaining SP and the life breathed into him by Last Command.

It didn’t miss, slicing right through Candy’s neck.

As it was a strike that would kill instantly, it shattered Candy’s Brooch.

And that was when the time limit was reached. The effect of Last Command expired, and To’ori’s bones scattered on the pavement.

Silence. Candy rubbed his neck.

At that moment, he most certainly felt like he was dead.

If his memory was no delusion, he’d almost experienced his second death since the time he’d died as a god—the God of Pestilence.

He picked up the helmet that had fallen on the ground, threw a glance at the bones...

“Not baaad.” His face wore a strained smile—seemingly a mix of happiness and fear.

At that moment, Candy chose to log out. Better safe than sorry. He’d decided to be careful and wait until he could equip the Brooch again.

Because of this, To’ori’s final attack did nothing but delay Candy’s plot by twenty-four hours.

◆

This was the end of the country of Mahem and the death of The Hero.

The gentle youth who carried the hope of all tians had been killed by King of Plagues. This was the final tragedy of the great calamity this Master had caused.

There were only two things that The Hero had left behind.

One was the twenty-four extra hours before Candy would invade Altar.

The other was the life of the boy he’d sent away with his draconic friend.

Whether these things had any meaning would soon be revealed.