True and False Prophecies

All the great figures would fear the apocalypse.

Whatever burned in chaos would burn in order, would burn in balance, would burn in every corner and at every edge.

Everything would begin with his birth. Everything would end with his birth.

Let him burn it all away. Add fuel for every pair of eyes, and the whole world could be burned clean.

—Apocalypse War Prophecy · Revised

As a demon, Echaint naturally knew that prophecy concerning the Apocalypse War. He had also thought everyone's interpretation of it made sense.

The Chaos Child should be at the end of this ultimate chaos.

Perhaps reciting the prophecy would draw the Chaos Child's attention.

After all, it was the thing most closely connected to the Apocalypse War that he could think of.

Echaint loudly recited that passage of prophecy in clear, standard demonic.

When his voice fell silent—

The dense fragments flying wildly before him trembled like mosquitoes that had spotted a blood pack and turned toward him.

The fragments gathered slightly toward the center.

A path seemed to be assembling itself before his eyes.

Had he drawn the Chaos Child's attention?

Whoosh—

The fragments scattered in all directions again, wildly flinging black smoke as they returned to their disorderly movements.

They had lost interest in him again.

Echaint silently watched the shattered, chaotic scene.

Nese's relayed words surfaced in his mind.

Alexander Hanging Ghost—the Hell Tree—had said that the version familiar to all demons was not the original version of the Apocalypse War prophecy.

It was a simplified version, created because everyone was somewhat illiterate.

And from his words, Echaint could tell that the meaning of the prophecy had also been altered.

How much had it been altered?

Could it be that the current prophecy was not acknowledged by the Chaos Child...

That was very possible.

The original version... If he could recite the original version, it would surely draw the Chaos Child's attention.

It was a great pity that Nese had not managed to ask for the full contents of that ancient version.

But he had mentioned one line.

Right.

Dissolve him into the end of the path, to launch forth and spread the ultimate chaos...

"Dissolve him into the end of the path, to launch forth and spread the ultimate chaos."

He murmured it softly.

For some reason, he felt there was no need to speak loudly this time.

Demonic flowed from his mouth.

"Dissolve him into the end of the path, to launch forth and spread the ultimate chaos."

The air resonated with those words, gradually amplifying them, spreading point by point and diffusing at tremendous speed.

Like a straight gale blowing down every stalk of grass in a single direction.

"Dissolve him into the end of the path, to launch forth and spread the ultimate chaos."

The air—no, the entire space was listening.

Those flickering fragments were listening. The confused black fog was listening. The passageways like the insides of blood vessels were listening. The tadpole-like slime drifting through them was listening.

The Chaos Child was listening.

He was certain.

They listened, then repeated.

They amplified his voice.

They joined their voices to his.

They lifted up its voice.

Their voices buzzed, growing noisy and heavy as iron.

They gathered in his throat.

Guiding him to say—

"Ah!

Traveler racing toward the end and the beginning.

Your defiance shall receive greater absolution.

Shepherd of the Ten-Headed Snake Cavern, you raise high the whip of fate.

Reconciliation, reconciliation!

You flee your own face, racing forth to scatter the twin stars.

One star falls and vanishes.

One star shall return to you!

The false dove has brought a true garland!

And where shall the blood from your heart flow?

Return extinction to extinction, return chaos to chaos.

You shall draw back the curtain and gaze upon the reflection in the mirror.

That reflection comes from your reverse side.

Find him.

Keep him.

Punish him.

Separate him from your home!

Dissolve him into the end of the path, to launch forth and spread the ultimate chaos!

Dissolve him into the end of the path, to launch forth and spread the ultimate chaos!

Dissolve him into the end of the path, to launch forth and spread the ultimate chaos!"

Echaint clutched his throat and gasped for breath.

A violent storm raged in his mind.

A violent storm raged before his eyes as well.

He covered his ears with his other hand, hoping there would be less of that storm inside them.

The disorderly fragments, trailing black streaks as they flew, converged in his vision, joining together and flattening out. Their shapes were reshaped. Their gaps were filled. Yellow-green liquid fell from the air and obediently seeped into the ground.

Gravity was no longer repeatedly tearing at him.

It returned to its gentle, steady state, pulling his body downward.

Still gripping his throat with one hand and his ear with the other, Echaint shook his nearly completely stiff wings and trembled as he landed on the ground.

A dark-purple passage, incomparably clean, neat, and square compared to before, stretched out ahead of him.

"Come..."

The indistinct voice did not sound from ahead. Instead, it began with individual syllables, gradually assembling into complete words that solemnly declared themselves in his mind.

Echaint forcefully flung his hands away and clenched his nearly numb fists.

His heart leaped to his throat at incredible speed, then dropped again, repeatedly jumping about like it was causing trouble until he felt sick.

He had heard that phrase.

The shepherd of the Ten-Headed Snake Cavern.

That was himself.

Echaint Sinkardesto.

That was the name he had given himself.

The name was connected to a dream.

He had dreamed that he stood at an intersection with ten branching paths, humming a lighthearted shepherd's tune. Holding a long whip, he tended a flock of lambs as soft as rolled clouds.

When he lowered his head, the ends of every path curled upward, writhing and twisting into snakes, their round heads stretching out red tongues.

The tails of the ten snakes were knotted together beneath his feet.

The hissing snake heads lunged at him all at once.

He remembered waking in surprise.

Demons did not dream.

At least, not of their own accord.

Echaint had once believed that dream was the artificial work of some other being.

He had quite reasonably suspected that the giant Vine Spirits had drawn him into a dream, that it was a fairy prank, or that it was a scheme by those law-bound beings at the End of the Final Path.

Later, in order to get to the bottom of it, he went through many twists and turns, traveling across three planes and visiting four authoritative masters of dreams:

The guardian giant dragon of the Dreamweaver's Cradle Plane—Tiyeymeolun—and the Vine Spirit Grand Life Master—Talilichi.

The progenitor of fairies from the First World Plane—the Lamp King.

Later, he crossed the distant seas to the End of the Final Path and met a complete Seven-Star—Equidistant Second Point of the Upper Chord.

Though the methods they used for identification differed greatly, they all, without prior consultation, gave him the same result:

That dream had not originated from any method familiar to them.

And so, he accepted the reality that he was a demon who could dream.

That dream had appeared only once. Still, he believed it held great meaning. It was a real dream that belonged to him alone.

When he had the chance to rename himself, he thought of that dream.

But soon—about a thousand years soon—Echaint gradually forgot about it. After all, he had far too many things to remember.

Yet his name, and the meaning within it, remained.

Now, accompanied by the hymn-like resonance of that ultimate chaos, the name that should have been so familiar to him seemed somewhat foreign. It echoed in his ears like thunder.

That dream came vividly alive in his mind once more.

Echaint Sinkardesto.

The shepherd of the Ten-Headed Snake Cavern.

Himself?

Was he the subject of that distant, ancient, original Apocalypse War prophecy?

Honestly.

He let out a breath, very, very slowly, then spread his wings and flew in great strides into that clean and sanitary passage.

For prior details on the two versions of the Apocalypse War prophecy, see Chapter 36, You'd Better Understand What He Means. For the shepherd of the Ten-Headed Snake Cavern, see Chapter 8, A Terrible Landing, and Chapter 12, A Name Eight Hundred Years Later. I discovered that if I revise the line that has a chapter comment, the chapter comment on that line seems to disappear. Anyway, I made another reader's chapter comment vanish. It was even the same reader as last time. I'm really sorry.