Chapter 157
That was something she had never anticipated.
Standing at the boundary of unconsciousness, she was completely defenseless against what was happening in reality.
Even so, she had let her guard down because she had been pushing away anything approaching with the power of air.
The mindless infected could do nothing but be flung away, unable to find a way to break through. And on all three ships, there had been no trace of a living person.
That had certainly been the case…
“Ah.”
As she slowly turned her head, she saw a woman whose face was half-covered with bulging, grotesque veins.
The ecstatic sensation of wielding the Raksha shattered, and the pain of reality rushed in.
She could feel the cold agony spreading gradually from near her heart.
“I’ll die too, but you… you’ll die as well… As a godslayer, I’ll be remembered… remembered… remembered forever by Him…!”
Hies stammered, unable to even form proper words. Likely because her tongue had curled up halfway inside her mouth.
Her heartbeat was slow, almost nonexistent, and her body temperature was low. She was no different from a corpse, yet she still retained reason, still moved according to her desires.
Siren let out a sigh as she quietly observed Hies.
“You became an infected by your own will. Throwing away your short and precious life for something like this.”
“Ahaha! What do you know?! What do you kno—ghrrrk!”
At times, the malicious ingenuity of humans was truly astonishing. So cunning that even the gods could not keep up.
Siren immediately recognized that the blood staining the dagger lodged in her body belonged to an infected.
Which meant that, in time, she too would meet the same fate.
“Siren!!!”
Thud!
Her vision was already blurring. She could barely make out Yasamin’s expression as he rushed up after sensing something was wrong.
But perhaps it was better that she couldn’t see him.
Retracting her gaze from the lifeless Hies, whose skull had been crushed, Siren exhaled a long breath.
“Are you okay? What is this? What the hell is this?!”
“Calm down, Yasamin.”
Her fingertips were numb. Her eyelids trembled, and her lips tingled, making it difficult to speak.
Which meant she had to gather the strength she had left to do what must be done.
‘This will only hurt you again and leave you more anxious, but…’
I’m sorry.
Murmuring a small apology, Siren focused all her consciousness on the world beyond.
Whether she collapsed, whether she died—ultimately, Yasamin would be the one to catch her.
She knew it was cruel to him, but completing this curse-reversal spell was her duty, her responsibility.
Something she absolutely had to accomplish.
‘And somehow, I’m certain… If not now, it will never be done.’
All that remained was to paint the pupils in the empty eyes.
Her trembling fingers made even that difficult, but she couldn’t afford to give up.
“…Siren.”
“……”
Gritting his teeth, Yasamin called her name. But Siren, already half-unconscious, could no longer answer.
‘I’ll take on all the despair you feel, and the hatred you will hold once more.
So don’t forgive me.’
The blue Raksha moved, drawing the pupils.
A person whose gender was indiscernible had been completed as a spell.
Had she smiled faintly before the sacred image that was enough to bring tears to one’s eyes? Or had she not?
Had Yasamin pleaded desperately for her to stop? Or had he not?
None of it mattered anymore.
Divine power erupted from her entire body.
The power that had lain dormant to protect the god heading toward death exploded outward—perhaps she should even be grateful to Hies for that.
Such was the strangeness of life. There was nothing purely good nor purely evil, malice did not always end in malice, and goodwill did not always conclude with goodwill.
‘Cold.’
The chill burrowed deep into her bones.
The poison of the infected targeted only the remnants of her human self with relentless precision.
Yet Siren did not give up. She lifted her hands and painted the entire backside of the pitch-black Raksha in a vivid green.
A healing Raksha upon the cursed Raksha’s reverse side.
The task, with each minute and second stretching into eternity, drained her. Her breath grew labored, making it difficult to inhale.
Gasping and expelling ragged breaths, she heaved as she moved the final Raksha.
“…Ha. You truly are…”
Yasamin, watching her, gritted his teeth as he murmured.
She didn’t know what he wanted to say. Her thoughts had not reached that far.
All Siren did was pour out the last of her strength, forcefully inverting the completed spell.
Boom!
The world trembled as if thunder had struck.
Waves surged, the sea roared, and the sky split apart.
The spell, which had spread across the entire South, reversed itself and burst forth as a grand healing technique, dazzling like an explosion of fireworks—an artistry in its own right.
“Siren. Siren. Sei… Don’t leave me. You said you wouldn’t go.”
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