The deer that had been targeted by the drawn bowstring fled into the thick underbrush.

The hunter glanced around cautiously and carefully moved his feet.

Then, the skinny companion beside him spoke with a pale face.

“Stop your steps, Bamal. Beyond here is—”

“I know.”

“You know, yet you’re going in?”

“My daughter has been bedridden for a week now. If I return empty-handed again, that child…”

Showing no intention of backing down, the man tightly shut his eyes and turned away.

“I—I’ll go back. I understand your situation, but if you’re going, you’ll go alone.”

He couldn’t stop him.

Because beyond this place was elven territory.

It was a sanctuary for wildlife, teeming with life in a region otherwise devoid of it.

If a human like him entered, hostility was inevitable.

But he had gone hungry for too long.

He had to tear off flesh to eat and sell the hide to buy medicine.

If not…

“...Just one deer. All I want is a single deer.”

Bamal, with bloodshot eyes, resolved that if he was going to die either way, he’d at least try.

The forest he quietly entered made no sound and felt chilling.

The lively chirping of insects seemed to mock him.

Outside, even bugs had to be eaten to survive, but in here, it was peaceful.

“Damn creatures.”

Bamal composed himself and began tracking the deer’s footprints.

He didn’t forget to stay alert to his surroundings.

He found the exhausted deer near a stream.

With calloused hands, he drew the bowstring.

Aiming for the eye to preserve the hide, he loosed the arrow.

But instead of a dull thud, the sound was pure, like striking metal.

Bamal stared at the unharmed deer in disbelief.

“So, you intend to break the covenant.”

A sudden voice nearly made his heart stop.

Bamal pressed close to a tree and fumbled through his quiver.

“An elf?”

He considered the possibility that he was already in someone’s sights.

Then the owner of the voice appeared by the stream, and the fleeing deer lowered its head like a loyal dog.

The man’s figure was obscured by a white robe.

But when he lowered his hood, his ears weren’t long—he seemed to be human.

“A human... No, that can’t be.”

There should be no other humans here besides himself.

Still, he had no intention of revealing himself.

But when he saw the man’s blue eyes, Bamal couldn’t help but move.

He was the being whom all races revered as a god.

And judging by the miraculous sight involving the deer, it had to be true.

The immortal king, feared even by other gods...

Bamal clenched his teeth.

What he felt now was rage.

The man who had reshaped the world stood right in front of him.

“It’s all because of him.”

Because of that man, those with power beyond comprehension fought, and the order that had brought prosperity collapsed.

Everything once earned was redistributed, the starving multiplied, and humanity lost its dignity.

Yet Bamal didn’t spit out his boiling rage—instead, he pleaded.

“I have a request.”

He approached and knelt.

Even bowed his proud head.

For though the man was loathsome, he was also the only hope.

“Please, with your divine power, heal my daughter.”

Silence.

Getting no reply, he lifted his head.

The expressionless man finally spoke.

“She’s ill?”

“Yes.”

Seeing a hint of willingness, Bamal’s eyes brightened.

But his hope was short-lived.

“If that’s the case, I can’t help.”

“What are you saying?”

“Many, like you, misunderstand. They think my power can fix anything.”

“But—but you are the Immortal King. Surely there’s nothing you can’t do!”

His voice, filled with frustration, echoed through the forest.

The man let out a shallow sigh.

“If there’s a sick person, they should see a physician. Just as one seeks a hunter for meat, everyone has different skills.”

In short, he was saying he wouldn’t help.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you. I’ll inform the elves—have them send you home safely.”

And yet he expected him to simply leave?

Losing his precious child would make life meaningless.

If he couldn’t even catch a deer, everything would be over anyway.

Better to let it all out.

“What kind of god are you? You’re just an arrogant fool. Just because you have a bit of power, you think you can control everything?”

He glared at the deer, and it trembled.

“A covenant with the elves? That too was forced because of you. Why should we treat mere livestock as equals?”

Elves and dwarves were originally just slaves.

Captured and trained after invading their lands.

But when cataclysms from the gods’ war struck, everything collapsed.

Slaves rose in the chaos, grew stronger, and seized sovereignty.

“If it weren’t for your kind, the kingdom would still stand. I wouldn’t have to drool over filthy rats like this!”

The man, who had silently listened, asked,

“How long did you plan to enjoy your privileges?”

“At least, it shouldn’t have ended in my lifetime.”

“Well, I suppose you do feel  bitter, thinking of your greedy ancestors who enjoyed it all and died peacefully.”

The truth of those words silenced Bamal.

“But that’s a mindset rooted in the law of the jungle. You used your strength to take many things by force.”

Bamal furrowed his brow at the man’s next question.

“And now that you’ve lost that strength... let me ask you, by your logic—who holds sovereignty over the world today?”

“...Are you saying it’s yours?”

The man answered by glancing around.

All around them, sparkling lights were arrowheads.

Seeing the elves wielding weapons they originally couldn’t use, Bamal’s fury boiled over.

“Go ahead, shoot me! You savage pointy-eared freaks! Enjoy using human civilization, do you?!”

Though he screamed, with just a gesture from the man, the elves lowered their bows.

In the sudden silence, the man’s voice echoed softly.

“Others may differ, but I have no interest in this so-called sovereignty you speak of. I believe uniting diverse wills into a single rule that satisfies all is impossible.”

“Yet you dare call yourself a god?”

“I’m just someone with a particular talent. Without that, I’d be much like you—just another human who can’t even heal a sick child.”

Bamal was dumbfounded.

This being, feared and revered even by gods, claimed the title of god was too much for him.

As if he were saying he was just a slightly unusual human.

Yet the next words brought him a measure of clarity.

“But everyone has willpower, and with their chosen actions, they create outcomes. What you’ve taken for granted—depending on your perspective—is also a power. For example—this.”

The man rummaged through his robe and tossed a mana stone.

“Take it. My pockets are overflowing anyway.”

Strangely, there was no feeling of humiliation from pity.

Perhaps he had become a materialist in the face of a large sum of money.

Even so, if a shred of pride remained in him and denied that truth, it was probably because he felt something sincere from the man.

‘Now I think I understand, at least a little, why so many among humans revered him.’

Bamal bowed his head respectfully and tried to leave.

Then, curiosity struck him, and he turned toward the man.

“I have a question.”

“Hmm?”

“What is your goal?”

He was curious.

Unlike other gods who sought followers, this man barely interfered with the mortal realm.

He only fought with other gods.

“My goal? Hmm… I guess I just want to know if a paradise exists for me too. My life is a journey to find that out.”

“And what does that have to do with your battles?”

“The ones I call evil gods are nothing more than pests to me. There’s no deep reason. As long as they exist, I’ll never know if paradise exists for me.”

With that, the man stepped into the forest.

Bamal pondered what “paradise” might mean to him.

‘Does he mean a haven? Either way, it seems related to rest.’

The affairs of gods belong to gods.

Bamal organized his thoughts that way and returned.

The fortress had become a refuge for the poor after the fall of the kingdom.

Even then, many were stuck outside in slums, unable to enter.

But because of his profession as a hunter, Bamal was able to enter with his daughter.

As he crossed the fortress threshold, the people in the yard stared at him with surprise.

No doubt someone had told them the hunter had entered the elves’ forest.

They naturally assumed he had died, so of course, they were shocked to see him return alive.

Word spread quickly, and his former companion came running over.

“You came back alive, Bamal.”

“I did. If I told you what happened there, you’d be amazed.”

But the man didn’t seem interested in that.

Bamal had expected him to ask whether he had given up on the deer or why he had no wounds.

But he soon understood why no such questions came—he saw the sorrow in his companion’s expression.

His daughter had died.

After burying her body and facing reality, Bamal came to a realization.

Gods don’t exist.

Because they are not omnipotent beings.

And if someone truly did create this world, if there is a god worthy of expectation, then their name should be called a demon who enjoys the suffering of life.

If not even that, then they must be some incompetent thing who poorly designed the world.

‘They only know a little more than us, and yet they dare—’

We are all at the mercy of such beings.

‘Fine. I too have trampled on lives just to survive. So I won’t blame them. Because…’

Because just like them, he had power and acted freely as a result.

From that day on, Bamal became obsessed with power.

His goal was the restoration of the kingdom.

***

“Is it because Gillum mentioned him recently?”

It was a dream he hadn’t had in centuries.

Bamal opened his groggy eyes and sat up in bed.

The emotions he had forgotten came flooding back—but only for a moment.

In the end, he was once again overtaken by emptiness.

‘So hollow.’

A life that had already tasted all pleasures.

He had long yearned for its end.

So if he were to meet that man again, he’d change his question.

He’d ask how he had lived so long without going insane.

But now that the man had disappeared, there would be no chance to ask.

Bamal glanced at the wall clock and recalled his schedule.

Since he had come all the way to the capital, he decided to visit the museum.

Seeing objects that contained records of the past to revive forgotten memories didn’t sound too bad.

***

Our duel with Wisdom would begin in three days.

It was a rare break, so I spent it enjoying myself.

The imperial capital was as bustling as ever.

Even among nobles, it was rare to see anyone riding in a carriage.

Most people could only guess who was noble and who was common by looking at the state of their clothes.

I also dined at a fine restaurant and sampled snacks sold on the street.

And now, I had arrived at the museum.

Though I came with a light heart, it wasn’t merely for sightseeing.

I wanted to check whether the magical artifact related to the slumbering legend was still there and perhaps witness a storyline-like event that would soon occur.

Bellman, who had followed me upon hearing I was going to the museum, asked,

“Is it really okay to just sit around like this?”

There was a hint of impatience in his voice.

It seemed he was uneasy about my carefree attitude with the duel against Wisdom only days away.

Unlike during the Everblaze incident, this time I hadn’t even offered any potentially helpful advice—I had completely lost interest.

So the reaction was understandable.

Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting anything, but I figured I should say something that sounded good.

“I won’t give you advice about Wisdom. Finding the answer yourself is also an important part of growth.”

“...That’s a fair point.”

If you get it, stop following me and go back to your room to think.

“But a museum, really? I didn’t think you were interested in that kind of thing.”

“Looking at history can be fun too.”

I said it offhandedly, but Bellman must’ve misunderstood and assumed it aligned with my own hobby—I gave a small chuckle.

An unplanned companion, but perhaps it wasn’t so bad.

Even for a small disturbance, it was good to have at least a guard with me.

The inside of the museum was filled with glass display cases.

I wasn’t particularly interested in any of the items, so I tried to walk past them.

But each time, Bellman was quick to explain.

“This mana stone here once belonged to someone of high status in the past.”

“Really? Then why is it here?”

The rarer the item, the deeper in the museum it was usually placed.

If it was near the entrance, it probably wasn’t worth much.

“They say it’s just an ordinary mana stone after inspection. That might be why.”

“That so?”

This time, I replied indifferently on purpose.

There was no benefit to drawing attention.

Damn it—if I had known, I would’ve come alone instead of bringing along a chatterbox.

As Bellman’s words went in one ear and out the other, I kept an eye on a more distant spot.

Just as expected, Arshian, the eldest daughter of the Grice family, made her appearance.

Next to her was a bespectacled woman with a ponytail who was being scolded by the dissatisfied-looking Arshian.

“Why aren’t you preparing for the duel?”

“Well, the next opponent is Frost Heart, after all.”

The woman answered in a calm tone—her name was Lilot.

She was the strongest battle mage of the prestigious magic academy, Wisdom.