"Hey, can you see me? I'm right here!"
The insignificant shout rang out, raising only a ripple in the River of Tears as it flowed on undisturbed. Then...
Another ripple, and another!
As if enraged by those presumptuous words, the long-silent river seemed to boil. Souls steeped in agony raised towering waves, seeking to overwhelm the tiny flame that had so foolishly awakened them from their slumber.
If you hadn't woken us, we would never have realized how painful sacrifice was!
As long as our sacrifice had meaning, we were willing to bear it!
But why did the tears keep flowing?
But why did tears bring forth more tears?
"Because tears and sacrifice can't change fate. Not yours, and not mine."
The faint, flickering spark reached out toward the oncoming tidal wave.
"I can't understand your sorrow as if I'd experienced it myself, but there's something I want to change, right now, right here."
"Everything will be all right. Everything will fall into place. That's how the future will be, I promise you."
"—Are you willing to join me in setting this imperfect world alight?"
Then the waves stopped dead, as if frozen.
Countless weeping eyeballs emerged from the waves. Their densely packed pupils reflected the unwavering spark of fire. Beneath a promise unlike any they had ever heard, the river formed from gathered tears fell into a chaos unlike any it had ever known.
It might have lasted only an instant, or perhaps they thought for an eternity. The waves surged forward all the same, but gently wrapped themselves around the flame.
The anger had never died. The tears of the suffering were its ashes. Now, the rage that had long since cooled remembered what it had once been.
Here, they offered up the final sacrifice: the sacrifice that would end all sacrifices ordained by fate.
The newborn god solemnly nodded and accepted every tear, just as he had once accepted every drop of blood.
With this agony alone as their bond, they proclaimed the forging of a new covenant.
A fire, born from Horn's soul and fiercer than ever before, ignited the overflowing agony and sorrow. The river formed from endless tears flowed backward for him. The surging waves cheered, gently bearing him upward, away from the ancient hell and toward a world they could never reach.
Take revenge on the guilty!
The next moment, Horn opened his eyes in the deepest part of the Blood Pool.
Joy.
Joy that wouldn't stop.
As if he were in a beautiful dream, he felt no pain at all, even as dazzling streaks of light carved countless wounds into his newly reborn body.
The sounds of battle had faded from his ears, replaced by endless thunderous booms, heralding that only one final step remained before his great undertaking was complete. Once he achieved the great feat of turning [Grail] into [Heart], he could truly wear Baal's crown and become an exceptional being even among the [Immortals].
Once it was done, he would crush the troublesome bug before him, then drive the fusion of the [Blood Field] and turn all of Birmingham into his domain. Before the [Historical Council] could make a move, he would devour every living thing here, then clear the table, pack up the leftovers, and leave the Manifest World.
By then, whether upward, outward, or downward, there would be somewhere for him to go as an [Immortal] of the [Heart].
His long-cherished wish was about to come true. The future looked so bright.
Saliba's newly formed scales blocked another razor-sharp strike, but his triumphant expression suddenly faltered.
The divinity that had poured in endlessly through the transformation ritual of [Storm Burnt Offering] abruptly dried up!
In the briefest moment of distraction, hundreds of wounds of varying depths appeared across his wings. Their membranes were so badly torn he could barely stay aloft, and he began to sink helplessly.
Hundreds of glossy black compound eyes, enough to make anyone with trypophobia shriek, sprouted from where Saliba's head had once been. Clustered in his eye sockets, they stared in shock at the source of the anomaly.
The Sacred Heart Hospital, which was meant to serve as a base and was supposed to be foolproof according to the plan!
Deep underground, in the Blood Pool, crimson lines stretched from the corners of the black-haired boy's eyes across his cheeks, reaching his jaw before fading from sight.
Like tears rolling down his face.
A crown that seemed to have condensed from smoke appeared above Horn's head. As a testament to their covenant, it offered the only gift they could give to their sole savior.
The [Crown of Moloch]!
Too impatient to filter anything, Horn gulped down the mutated spirituality indiscriminately. His eyes turned scarlet as he embraced the [Grail]'s corruption, determined to gain the upper hand in his struggle with Saliba for control!
People live to eat. What's with all these unspoken rules around food? What the hell is corruption and mutation? I'll just fucking eat it. And why bother with some Burnt Offering ritual? I'll jump onto the altar, do a Thomas rotation, and sweep up all the sacrifices in one go. Then I'll lunge at the priest and bite him down. And if you're taking part, don't even think about running away—I'll eat every last one of you! I'll fucking eat and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat!
I don't care if you're Beelzebub, Baal, or Vigilant Storm. Watch me sneak off with the offerings on your graves!
He didn't care that the spirituality was filled with pain and despair. He even fed on that despair, turning the tables and wresting control of the Blood Pool from Saliba. This threw Saliba off his stride, preventing him from expelling Horn from the ritual.
One step behind, and you fell behind at every step.
Saliba raised a hurricane that toppled the buildings above the Blood Pool. Before he could break through the seal he had set up himself, Veronica's long-prepared spear of light pierced his chest and pinned him to the ground beside the Blood Pool. His head was embedded in the rubble, facing Horn.
For a moment, he couldn't move.
The rotating compound eyes fixed on the boy standing in the middle of the Blood Pool. His eyes were cloudy and scarlet, his limbs were beginning to sprout new growths beyond his control, and his heart was beating like a drum. Saliba's heart, once filled with joy, now overflowed with disbelief—and heart-wrenching regret at the waste. Even the conversion of divinity began to falter, almost reversing itself.
It hurt. It hurt so much!
No, no! That's not how you absorb Baal's divinity!
Put it down. Let me do it!
Veronica, just as incredulous as she watched Horn evolve from Shit Mountain Coder into Super Bomber, didn't offer any pointless advice. Instead, she silently recorded this sacrifice and forced herself to draw power from her immense burden, worsening her own condition in the process.
At least this courage would mean something.
It didn't matter what they were thinking. Standing at the bottom of the Blood Pool, which had been completely drained in no time at all, Horn burped and spat out a thick cloud of smoke.
Whew, I'm full!
From the crown suspended above his head, the tears of agony left behind by countless sacrifices gathered and surged like a tidal wave, driving Horn to unleash his nature upon the culprit before him.
With this power, born of the same source, he would bite, fight, inflict pain, and bring death!
Take revenge!
Barely holding on to his sanity, Horn suppressed the hatred rising within him. He felt an unusual heat on the skin beneath the bandages on his back, and sensed the faint gaze of some great being, high above in the heavens, from somewhere far beyond.
At this desperate moment, he yielded to the Restlessness welling in his heart, closed his eyes, and silently prayed.
If this is my fate, then don't wait—bring it on already!
Before you continue