A Thousand Years

After Nora said that, the cave fell silent.

The Pollution had lasted... a thousand years?

Theus felt as if he were listening to some ridiculous joke.

He looked around in confusion. The cave was filled with flecks of sunset, beautiful to behold.

Outside the cave, the sun slowly sank into the sea. The last rays of light dyed the waves red as they crashed against the rocks, like a lovely song.

The song had gone on for who knew how many years. The waves had shattered the rocks, worn down their edges, and ground them into fine sand.

How long was a thousand years?

Long enough for him to live a life weathered by the elements, then die and become a corpse, rot into bones, and repeat the cycle many times over.

The sea... had been polluted for a thousand years?

Theus looked at the surface of the water. Snow-white waves were reflected in his eyes and those of the Banshees.

No one spoke.

Theus felt as if he had turned into sand, drifting away with the tide. Through an almost endless stretch of time, he had wandered in the sea, seeing fish swimming through the water, ships passing by, shrimp and crabs on the seabed, seeing...

Ding!

Theus covered his ears, and only then came back to his senses. He looked at Nora in the cave with a slight wince. She had just struck her shield hard with her Flail.

"You... really didn't know!? Don't you live in the sea? Can't you feel the endless Pollution?"

The Banshees looked at one another.

"No, that's not right. There's almost no Pollution on you. I just purified you—I saw it with my own eyes. But this doesn't make sense. It doesn't..." Nora muttered to herself again, her expression bewildered.

Another deathly silence fell. Confusion filled the Banshees' eyes.

"Wait!"

Theus suddenly opened his eyes wide. An idea flashed through his mind like lightning.

The Cursed... Swollen Monster... home... destruction... escape... enslavement... water pressure... Abyssal Trench... Pollution... Flesh Magic...

Theus's hands began to tremble. He had a theory, a truly terrifying one.

The Banshees and Nora suddenly heard Theus speak. His voice was quiet, and his words trembled slightly.

"Could it be... that this is what happened?"

"Before the Pollution erupted beneath the sea, your home was destroyed, and you had no choice but to maintain Flesh Magic to withstand the water pressure, becoming the Cursed."

"Then the various races enslaved you and kept you in shallow waters. That meant you had to maintain Flesh Magic from the moment you were born. And Flesh Magic could preserve your bodies and protect you from the Pollution!"

The Banshees stared at Theus in shock.

"Then the other races in the sea gradually went mad from the Pollution. But because you needed to maintain Flesh Magic every moment to withstand the water pressure, you were never polluted!"

"The Pollution came from the depths of the sea. There wasn't much of it in the shallows, so your condition worsened the farther you went into the Abyssal Trench, until you had to flee after staying there for a few days."

Theus's words came faster and faster. Countless details flashed through his mind, then came together to form a vast puzzle.

A puzzle spanning a thousand years of history, with the Seven Oceans as its foundation!

"The water pressure... wasn't a curse. It saved you, forcing you to maintain Flesh Magic every moment and making you the only survivors in the Pollution-ridden Seven Oceans!"

"That's why the Fishmen didn't dare follow you deeper into the Abyssal Trench. They weren't afraid of the exploding Ghost Ship—they were afraid of the Pollution in the trench!"

"That's why you were able to travel deep into the Abyssal Trench without encountering anything. After a thousand years of Pollution, no creatures had gathered there anymore."

"And by venturing into the Abyssal Trench and facing the Pollution directly, you learned just how terrifying it was, instead of being gradually eroded in the shallows until it was too late!"

It all made sense...

Theus stood there, stunned. He couldn't believe this was the truth!

For a moment, it was as if he had glimpsed a corner of the truth about this world.

Theus suddenly realized that if he and the Banshees had taken even one wrong step, they would have been doomed. Yet, against all odds, they had taken the right step every time, as if it had been fate.

The Banshees' gazes gradually filled with awe. Everything had been far too coincidental, far too precise.

Could he really not be a god...

Theus suddenly frowned.

Wait, no...

Something felt wrong. It was as if he had overlooked something important, but for the moment, he couldn't remember what.

"You... you really didn't know..." Nora was also stunned by the revelation. She looked at the Banshees around her and could tell their expressions were genuine.

"You really maintained magic to keep the Pollution away for a thousand years? In the sea!? Without stopping for even a moment!?!?"

She took a deep breath and tried to calm her turbulent emotions, but she still found the reality before her difficult to accept.

The Pollution had lasted a full thousand years, turning all the other monstrous creatures in the sea into monsters. It was written in the Holy Scripture.

The priest who had taught her, and the priest who had taught that priest—this knowledge had been passed down through generation after generation. In her eyes, these had been established facts, indisputable truths.

She felt as if something unbreakable had just been smashed before her eyes like a fragile glass vase.

Suddenly, Nora looked up at Theus.

Could she have been wrong? Was Theus not the leader of a heretical cult? Had he simply known nothing about the thousand years of Pollution, and asked her to come help treat them for that reason?

Had he simply been asking for help?

Wait, he had crossed the sea too. How could he know nothing?

Know nothing... know nothing...

Her eyes filled with disbelief. Looking up at Theus, she asked, "Could it... could it be that you're still just a mortal?"

A mortal? Did she mean someone without Transcendence? Theus thought that her title, Burier, must be some rank in the Silent Temple for those with Transcendence. So he silently nodded.

Clang. The Tower Shield slipped from Nora's hand and hit the ground.

"How... could this happen... So you weren't..."

"Wait." She suddenly seemed to remember something, and her expression changed drastically.

"Oh no!!"

At the same time as her cry, a piercing scream rang out.

Black Pollution writhed all over Monica, tightening around her body like thin ropes. Her once-lovely face had twisted into a hideous expression. Her limbs knotted as she bent backward, her joints contorted at grotesque angles.

Countless writhing strands of Pollution fell from her, like thousands of black worms. The moment they touched another Banshee, they clung to her frantically.

Time seemed to slow. Everything before Theus appeared to move in slow motion.

He watched helplessly as Monica surged up from the water and roared as she slammed into Nora, sending her flying.

Only one sentence echoed in his mind: what Ash had told him earlier.

"Flesh Magic only barely withstands the water pressure. Once you're out of the water, even with Flesh Magic, most people will..."

"Explode and die." Theus murmured.