An Unlikely Messiah

"Gurgle, gurgle~"

The familiar sound of the axle accompanied the bright spring sunlight as it stubbornly stabbed through the gaps in the tree canopy to fall upon the ground. The dirt road between the forests on either side was covered in rotting fallen leaves, making an unpleasant squelching noise.

Occasionally, a wheel struck a small pebble, and the entire cheap cargo wagon responded with enthusiastic up-and-down bounces. Its aging wooden structure was no longer very stable, and every single jolt seemed to bring it one step closer to outright disintegration.

The air was permeated with a fragrant, herbaceous aroma, mixed with the scent of earth and leaves. A soft, silk-like breeze brushed against the skin of the wagon's passenger, involuntarily inspiring a trace of pleasant relaxation.

"Ugh!" The man lying in the wagon arched his waist with great effort, resembling a tetanus patient as he twitched and vibrated uncontrollably. His muscles were tense and twisted, and his head and feet pressed against the flimsy wooden boards, forcing the carriage structure to emit a painful groan.

Aaron vaguely heard someone talking amid his daze.

"Damn it, wasn't it just killing a man? How did his lordship the viscount end up like this?"

"I don't see any injuries on him. Could this be tetanus?"

"Impossible! When has tetanus ever set in on the same day?"

"Aaron, Aaron, are you okay? Wake up!" A somewhat feeble hand shook his shoulder.

Aaron?

The young man lying in the carriage desperately wanted to open his eyes right away, but the ultimate, euphoric sense of release combined with the numb, itchy tingling current all over his body left him capable of doing nothing besides continuously twitching his frame.

Aaron, that's right, my name is Aaron.

My name is Aaron Salian, and I just killed a bandit. This was the first time in my life I had killed a person.

The young man thought in a chaotic daze, finally burying his head in his hands as his body arched like a giant shrimp.

Wait... this life?

The young man's handsome features twisted into a knot. The voices nearby assumed he was in excruciating agony, but only Aaron knew that he had just been swallowed by an intense wave of pleasure.

The pleasure of killing; this was his very first time taking a life with his own hands.

Aaron had once thought that he would feel terror and nausea at the sight of blood.

Yet he did not. On the contrary, when that bandit's blood splashed onto his face, he gained an unimaginable sense of delight. This intense pleasure caused him to pass out on the spot.

His companions assumed that this young noble aristocrat was simply failing to stomach the gore of his first bloodshed and thought nothing of it, placing him on the wagon and pressing onward.

"Ahem... ugh~" Aaron's body continued to convulse. After awkwardly thrusting his abdomen upward three or four times, that tide-like ecstasy slowly receded. The young man attempted to open his eyes, and the dazzling light greeting him forced him to narrow them involuntarily.

Ah, it was spring.

The scenery on both sides told Aaron that spring was marching toward him in great strides.

He lay in the wagon, clad in heavy chainmail, with an outer layer of purple surcoat draped over the armor. A tear in the fabric told the tale of the recent skirmish—the bandit's blade had left a mark on his chainmail, while his sword had left a bowl-sized gash on the bandit's neck.

Strange to think about it: five bandits, three swords, and one stiff bow were enough to deal with ordinary woodcutters and hunters, but where did they get the confidence to take on three adventurers?

Aaron opened his mouth but found himself temporarily unable to speak, so he simply shut it again.

"Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle~" The sound of the axle gradually grew clear as his hearing recovered. The normally irritating noise sounded so exceptionally pleasant when heard this way.

In the May spring, the sunlight was bright and the spring atmosphere was thick. The brilliant light filtered through the tree canopy to fall upon Aaron's face, alongside the gentle forest breeze, unfolding the scenery of broadleaf forests retreating on both sides into Aaron's line of sight.

The wagon wheels advanced slowly along the dirt road paved with fallen leaves, and the carriage body rocked with just the right rhythm. If not for the heavy stench of blood still lingering in his mouth and nose, Aaron would almost have wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep.

Someone refused to give him the chance.

"You're finally awake, my lord viscount! By Tempus, I know it's your first time seeing blood, but if you're going to faint from hemophobia like this, how are you ever going to be a knight in the future?" A voice chattered incessantly, its tone carrying a hint of a prick, yet lacking nothing in the way of care.

Aaron opened his eyes once more, his mind in complete chaos.

Something was trapped within his body, imprisoned by his flesh, blood, and soul's will. This thing was powerful and indestructible; it was merely bound, and it was roaring and raging. Every single movement of its made the young viscount suffer immense harm. The viscount could only stand in place, the veins on his forehead bulging densely, his teeth clenched tight as screaming demonic faces rushed toward him from less than an inch away from his face, his soul nearly swallowed by a tide of chaos.

It was a terrifying existence beyond verbal description; it struggled, it twisted, carrying endless hunger and madness.

Aaron did not know why simply killing a bandit would cause such an event to manifest, but his brain felt exceedingly blissful—so blissful that something inside was cracking apart.

"Where... am I?" Aaron's brain commanded his body to get up, but his body indicated that this was impossible, twitching a few times instead: "What happened?"

Sitting beside Aaron was a wizard apprentice in his early twenties, dressed in a dark brown robe and wearing his blond hair combed back into a grand pompadour. He possessed a slender nose and a pair of slender eyes.

Hicks, a wizard apprentice of the War Wizard Academy, Aaron slowly recognized him.

He was a jerk—a jerk who had been Aaron's playmate for a few years.

Later on, his family moved away, and meeting again ten years later, this jerk had actually become a wizard apprentice.

Now he considered himself a cut above the rest.

Only that ingrained roguish demeanor had not changed, still carrying that jerkish flavor when he smiled.

Aaron really wanted to slap him right across the face!

"Hey, buddy, not only did you faint from the sight of blood, but you've also got amnesia?" The wizard apprentice couldn't help laughing when he saw Aaron's blank expression. He snapped his fingers, and the water flask beside his hand rose directly into the air: "I reckon a swig of this right now is more useful than anything. Come on, consider it my treat. Ha, once we get back, I'm going to spread word of our dear viscount's heroic deeds all through Suzail!"

Level 0 cantrip—Mage Hand. Aaron couldn't help recalling that this companion of his happened to be of this exact age, using Mage Hand hundreds of times every day; as long as something could be solved with Mage Hand, he would never lift a finger himself.

Black-bottom ale, a specialty of the kingdom, a cheap good priced at 2 silver coins per gallon (about 4.5 liters).

Aaron much preferred the Water of Amn and gin from his own home.

"I don't have amnesia, Hicks. You jerk, if you dare spread word of this, you're dead meat." Aaron rolled his eyes.

"If you don't want to drink, eat an apple instead." The wagon driver spoke, tossing an apple over from the front seat: "I don't know why you city-slicker lords don't like to drink; my son is always sneaking my booze."

"I need to stay sober at all times, that's what a spellcaster should do." Hicks lifted his chin. "You guys don't get it."

"Yeah, we don't get it, you do, you always say that... thud~" A reddish outer skin, plump pulp, and brightly colored apple smashed onto the wooden floor of the carriage, disrupting the rhythm of the wheels.

Almost no one in the Realms disliked apples, especially the poor. Fruit was a natural sweetener, and apples were one of the more common kinds. Raw apples, cooked apples, green-skinned apples for cooking, applesauce, apple juice, cider, apple mead, apple pies, and all sorts of apple desserts formed a unique apple culture. It was said that Lady Firehair was also particularly fond of apples.

Volk, the driver, in his early thirties, of tall build, with two knife scars on his face, looked particularly ferocious. He deliberately wore a set of armor slightly larger than his own figure and specially fitted himself with extra-large shoulder guards carved with a direwolf pattern, carrying a two-handed greatsword on his back as well, looking extremely bluffing.

Volk's attire was in stark contrast to the exquisite and refined Aaron and Hicks. He deliberately styled his appearance to look like a Northman, the kind who would fly into a rage at the slightest disagreement. Relying on this appearance, he had scared away quite a few enemies.

In fact, it was all fake. Volk was a warrior, a very weak warrior, otherwise he wouldn't have spent over a decade in the army only to end up driving a carriage for others.

Aaron knew that the two-handed greatsword was actually hollow and weighed no more than five pounds. Those bandits had been scared out of their wits by Volk brandishing this two-handed greatsword wildly, and he wondered if they had even noticed that this two-handed greatsword in Volk's hands was no better than a cook's fire poker.

Forget it, it was already meaningless. Aaron closed his eyes. "I'm not eating."

"Lord Viscount, if you're not eating an apple, then Hicks, are you eating an apple?" Volk tossed another apple over from the front seat.

"Thud!" This time the apple landed beside Aaron's head.

"I don't want to eat. If I want to eat, I'll..." Hicks certainly didn't forget to show off his prestidigitation at any time. Mage Hand picked the apple up from the wooden board and put it back into Volk's pocket. "Do it myself~"

"You guys, seriously, apples are such a good thing, why won't you eat them? I love apples. This bag of apples was grown in Eveningstar Town right here, and this small bag costs two gold coins!" Volk rambled on. "Tymora above, punish these two who don't respect apples!"

With that, Volk picked up an apple and began eating it in large bites.

Aaron and Hicks exchanged glances, both of them closing their eyes helplessly.

Volk was a polytheist who worshiped every deity, but most of the time it was limited to lip service, reciting whoever's name was needed when they were needed and offering a small tribute. This was also the norm for the people of the Realms.

But it didn't matter. As long as he believed that the gods existed, he wouldn't be hauled off to pave the Wall of the Faithless after death.

And after that cataclysm two years ago that spanned the entire multiverse, almost no one still clung to the bizarre view that "gods do not exist."

Two years ago, as long as one offered enough gold coins, anyone could even see a living, real deity up in the northern city! And chat with her!

Aaron was still trying to get up. He found that he seemed to be slowly regaining control of his body. He clenched his fists, concentrating his strength into his wrists, and his legs recovered sensation too.

Just as Aaron concentrated all his attention entirely on his body, he heard a sound of breaking air from ahead, and then felt a heavy object smash into him.

It seemed much heavier than an apple. Aaron let out a muffled groan, his temper flaring up immediately.

"Volk!" Aaron shouted out immediately. "Didn't I tell you, I don't want to eat an apple..."

The sound of frightened horses neighing reached his ears, along with a piercing whistle. A beam of light grazed Aaron's forehead, and a scorching pain instantly tightened his facial features.

What was going on?!

A wet sensation came from his chest. When Aaron shifted his gaze to his chest, a chilling breath instantly enveloped his whole body, and his eyes shrank to pinpricks.

What had fallen onto his chest was not an apple.

It was Volk's head!

Volk, dressed much like a Northman, still maintained an expression of shock and disbelief. His mouth was wide open, and the apple residue in his mouth, mixed with the scent of his bad breath and fresh blood, rushed toward Aaron's face.

Before he even had time to react, an explosion-like sound came from the carriage Aaron sat inside. A bolt of lightning accurately struck the carriage, and Aaron only felt a huge impact hitting his back. His entire body soared into the sky along with the exploding carriage, flying out like a rag, together with the shockwave of airflow and the debris of the carriage explosion.

"Ah!" Aaron cried out in pain. He landed heavily on the ground, and the sharp pain from his back reminded him that he had hit the ground. The violent impact caused him to spit out cries of pain and a lot of saliva from his throat. Yet the young lord viscount's willpower was unexpectedly tenacious; years of training made him instinctively reach for the longsword at his waist while fixing his eyes on what was happening.

Beneath the tree shade, a group of goblins were rapidly approaching, led by a few bugbears, along with an ogre and a hobgoblin shaman. Aaron guessed that the spell just now had been cast by this hobgoblin shaman. Ferocious wargs had already pounced upon the poor horses to feast heartily, and Volk's corpse had also become a satisfying meal.

What was going on? Goblins? Appearing here in King's Forest? And so close to Suzail?

Aaron gripped his sword. This sword couldn't give him a sense of security, but at least it let him fantasize that he had the ability to fight back.

"Run! Aaron, run!"

"Boom~"

Hicks's voice came from the other side, the wizard apprentice shouting loudly toward Aaron. "Quick, I'll hold them off!"

With that, Hicks chanted the first spell.

Second-tier magic, Web.

Clusters of sticky webs appeared out of thin air, trapping the attackers.

Aaron noticed that Hicks must have been injured; his spellcasting looked halting and much slower than his usual speed, and what was worse, the spells the wizard apprentice had memorized today were not well-suited to handle this skirmish.

"What are you still looking at, run, Aaron!" Hicks's web could not bind this group of Orcs for long, and the strong ogre had already easily broken free from the restraint.

Damn it, move, move!

Aaron frantically urged himself on. His mind was almost blank. He tried with all his might to move his body, yet his mind still replayed the scene from just moments ago—Volk's oversized head resting right on his chest, his unclosed eyes still bearing a lingering expression of surprised agony.

That intense sensation of pleasure came back again! Tingling, numbness, extreme itchiness, just like insects crawling rapidly beneath the skin, sinking into Aaron's bone marrow.

That entity screamed, roared, vibrated, beating in unison with Aaron's heart. Juices mixed with pain and joy surged from Aaron's heart to his viscera, and even his entire body!

Finally, it rushed straight to his head!

Something shattered.

Aaron's mouth widened, his eyes staring blankly, and a familiar stream of memories flooded into his mind along with the shattering of that thing.

His vision shattered like glass, his sealed memories ushered in liberation, and those familiar scenes returned to his mind. The personality named Aaron Salian exploded into countless fragments in an instant, rapidly recombining in the newly surged memories to form a brand-new persona pieced together from past-life and present-life memories. This persona was still called Aaron Salian, yet it was also entirely different.

I remember.

I am not from this world.

I transmigrated.

Because of an accident, I crossed over into this world.

Yet this was not the beginning, for in the process of crossing, I met gods.

True deities, and four of them at that.

Four true deities, extremely kind and amicable, greatly appreciated me, and happened to discover a brand-new universe that had never been graced by them.

The four deities were immensely excited, and after a brief discussion, they decided to bestow upon me one great authority each as their representative.

Endless depravity and indulgence, infinite decay and rebirth, boundless knowledge and change.

Along with that mighty, world-destroying power.

Everything went smoothly, and Aaron had no ability to resist whatsoever... nor the qualifications.

Until the light of the supernova explosion swallowed everything, the entire space was pulled into a straight line, all energy and madness were expelled, the lifeless ones composed of the Ethereal melted and vanished, and a supreme entity descended upon this place.

This feeling was wondrous; this deity did not manifest in any form, yet when it descended, all scenery scattered away like shattered glass, the material-composed world unfurled like silk, and the entity that appeared before the four deities seemed not to exist at all, yet it was everywhere.

It was within all things.

It wove the Realms, and naturally would not allow other entities to desecrate it.

"Outer Gods, you have violated the rules."

The stars lit up accordingly, and its polar starlight confronted the boundless might of the four deities.

Aaron saw with his own eyes as the four deities retreated in defeat under its hands.

Yet this was not a battle of disparate strength; if the four deities had been willing to join forces against the enemy, they might not have lacked the chance to reap a victory... or at least a potential draw.

However, just as Aaron had always understood them, this was an absolute impossibility; they might reach a consensus for a brief time, but they would never unite.

The four deities were forced to withdraw, yet their authorities remained here, their wills were driven away from this place, but the representative they had chosen survived to this day.

That person was Aaron.

He remembered.

"Aaron!" Hicks's voice rang out once more, and the Mage apprentice shouted at the top of his lungs: "Hurry--!"

The Bugbear's charge interrupted the Mage apprentice's roar.

The Ogre's heavy hammer also lunged toward Aaron's face, and the weak Viscount barely managed to parry with his sword. The piercing pain in his wrist made him groan continuously as he retreated step by step, and the heavy boot stepped directly onto his chest.

"Clang~" The long sword hit the ground.

"Ugh...!" A large hand grabbed his hair, hauling his head up, and the Ogre's simple-minded and ignorant rough voice chimed in: "Lord Mepham? What should Gulk do?"

A figure in black robes stepped out from the forest, extending thin, withered fingers from his sleeves, and said fanatically: "Give him to me! Ogre, you have done well, I will give you plenty of meat to eat, lots and lots of meat!"

"Gulk wants to eat meat~ Gulk wants to eat lots and lots of meat!" The Ogre grabbed Aaron by the hair, hauled him straight up from the ground, and dragged his body along.

"Bhaalspawn, you shall be offered to the supreme Black Sun Lord!" The robed man said with delight: "This is your honor!"

Dragged by his hair, Aaron was hauled across the soft spring woodland. Enduring the sharp pain and the dull ache in his chest, he drew in a deep breath, and a string of words not originating from his own will escaped his lips: "There are always mortals..."

"What did you say?" The Ogre lifted Aaron's head: "What does the human want to say?"

Purple Qi surged from Aaron's eyes, and an Eight-Pointed Star emblem manifested within the purple energy.

The deities' authority erupted at this moment.

"There are always mortals who dare to face the majesty of eternity!"

Updated, updated, publishing a new book, wuwuwuwu

(End of chapter)