CHAPTER 76: CURSED BEINGS

Mika had long given up trying to predict the Will of the World’s intentions.

From what he had dug up in archives, deciphered from ancient scriptures, and pried out of the mouths of old mystics who knew too much, the Will was supposed to be the great conscience of the world, a protective instinct woven into reality itself.

It was, in theory, the guardian that nurtured civilizations, guided them toward prosperity, and steered them away from ruin. At least, that was the romanticized image passed down over centuries.

In technical terms, it should have been the ultimate benevolent force. The kind of thing you could trust to act in the best interest of everyone.

But the scene with the portal had shredded that image into pieces.

The rift that hadappeared had not simply torn into thin air, it had ripped through the path of a passenger plane mid-flight.

Over a hundred people had been inside and Mika didn’t even want to think about the kind of panic that must have erupted inside that aircraft when space itself fractured right in front of them. The fact that it had destabilized the plane at all was proof enough that lives had been put in danger.

And yet...the Will hadn’t lifted a finger to help those people.

No. All of its focus, its entire, unblinking attention, had been on him.

As if those hundred lives were nothing more than background noise.

As if the only "real" piece on the board was Mika.

And that, more than the danger, more than the absurdity, was what unsettled him most.

He didn’t know whether to feel valued, hated, or just plain disturbed.

It wasn’t the first time the Will had shown this preference, either; it had ignored entire cities before just to put him into position for...whatever "plans" it had for him.

But Mika was done wasting brainpower on questions he’d never get answers to. He knew better than to gnaw on something that only spiraled into frustration.

So, with a sigh, he decided to just finish the damn job and go home before anyone in his household realized he wasn’t tucked in bed where he belonged.

With a flick of his hand, the small boat beneath him tilted slightly and began to drift down toward the portal’s glowing mouth.

The party of blessed below, busying themselves with their own preparations, didn’t so much as glance up. Not even when he floated directly over them.

It wasn’t stealth magic. It wasn’t even a deliberate concealment.

Somehow, they simply...didn’t register him. Like his existence was being filtered out of their perception entirely.

And just like that, he was through.

He closed his eyes as the strange pull of the rift’s gravity washed over him, silently hoping, praying, that whatever was on the other side wouldn’t be the kind of tedious, miserable mess that stole hours of his life.

—

The air changed first.

Gone was the crisp coolness of the night sky, replaced by a dry, almost heavy warmth that carried with it the faint tang of sun-scorched earth. Mika’s eyes opened slowly.

Two suns blazed overhead.

The light was almost overwhelming at first, brighter and harsher than he was used to, but it lit up the landscape in brilliant detail. Below him stretched a sprawling white forest, each tree’s bark pale as bone, the leaves shimmering faintly like frost even under the hot suns. Beyond that, jagged mountains clawed at the horizon.

And it was nothing like his home world.

Because here "world" was a misleading word.

Why?...Well, because the Other Side wasn’t one realm, it was hundreds of thousands of microcosms or pocket realms connected with one another.

Fragments of separate worlds and planes of existence, all of them forcefully stitched together in some ancient catastrophe. The result was a patchwork reality where each realm kept its own terrain, its own creatures, and its own rules.

One section might be a frozen wasteland, where crystal-skinned beasts roamed beneath eternal blizzards.

Another might be a blistering desert, dunes broken only by rivers of molten rock.

There were swamp realms shrouded in toxic fog, ocean realms where nothing but jagged coral broke the surface, and countless others, each one a remnant of a once-whole plane.

Travel between realms was rare, but not impossible.

That was how, long ago, the battle angels had hunted the Eternal Queen. They had crossed from realm to realm, tracking her trail for years, until they finally cornered her in the chaos realm and struck her down.

And right now, Mika had landed in a forest realm, one of the more "normal" looking ones by Earth’s standards.

Below him, tucked among the pale trees, was a small medieval-style village. Wooden and stone homes huddled close together behind a crude wooden wall. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys. There couldn’t have been more than a hundred people living there.

At least, people by loose definition as they were all looking up at him now, but not a single one looked remotely human.

Their skin was a vivid, unearthly blue, smooth as river stone. Their eyes glowed faintly, a shade of blue just a touch brighter than their skin. And their ears, long, narrow, and sharply pointed, twitched faintly with every movement.

Mika wasn’t surprised.

The world beyond the portal was home to more races and species than Earth could ever dream of.

Back home, humans dominated every continent, their culture and biology shaping the fate of the planet. Here, though, no single race held the monopoly on civilization.

Every realm was a patchwork of unique species, each with its own traditions, values, and history, sometimes peacefully coexisting, sometimes at each other’s throats.

Broadly, these races could be divided into three types.

The first were the sentient races, the "smart" ones.

They thought, planned, and built. They had a sense of self and awareness of their surroundings. They knew how to temper their emotions and construct entire civilizations.

In every way that mattered, they were like humans, only different in the details.

A pair of horns instead of hair. Scales instead of skin. Or, like the villagers below him, smooth azure skin, eyes like gemstones, and ears like sharpened leaves.

The village itself confirmed it. They’d built homes, gathered behind walls, and carved out a community not so different from the rural settlements of Earth’s medieval past, if you ignored the alien architecture and materials.

Sentient beings also came in countless varieties.

Some were peaceful and diplomatic, weaving vast networks of trade and alliances. Others were stubborn, suspicious, or outright hostile.

But looking down at the villagers, with their calm movements and simple lives, Mika felt his shoulders loosen. For now, they seemed like the harmless kind, humble folk just trying to get through the day.

The second type were the demonic beings.

In a way, they were the equivalent of Earth’s animals, predators and prey, but the resemblance stopped there.

In this world. "wildlife" was more dangerous by default. A lion on Earth was already a predator worth respecting; here, its counterpart might stand twice as tall, have claws like swords, and breathe fire when provoked.

From insect swarms that could strip a man to the bone in seconds to apex predators that made dragons look tame, demonic beings were the living hazards of the Other Side.

And then, there was the third kind, the kind everyone despised.

The cursed races.

No other group inspired as much fear or hatred in both this world and Mika’s own.

They were the Eternal Queen’s creation, her living weapons designed to break, burn, and enslave all life in both realms. They were called cursed not just for their origin, but for the very mana that made them, twisted, toxic energy that seeped into their bodies and bound their will to hers.

They were destruction given flesh.

In the long, bloody war between worlds, cursed beings had been the shock troops of every invasion, the monsters that had torn through Mika’s homeland more times than he could count.

And even among them, there were tiers.

The first were those born directly from cursed mana, pure abominations forged with no purpose but slaughter. Rage and hatred were their default state, and nothing short of annihilation could deter them.

The second were demonic beasts that had been corrupted. A wild predator infected by the Queen’s mana could transform into something far more vicious, gaining unnatural size, strength, and endurance, along with an unshakable loyalty to her will.

And the third, perhaps the most tragic, were sentient beings who had fallen to corruption.

People who once thought, felt, and built civilizations reduced to mindless agents of ruin.

Their intelligence twisted into cunning cruelty, their free will replaced by the Queen’s whispers. They became her slaves, not in chains, but in body and soul.

Mika knew these classifications well. He’d fought them before. He knew the smell of cursed mana, the way it clung to the air like rot, the way it turned everything it touched into something that shouldn’t exist.

And the worst part?

It was so insidious, so absolute, that even the peaceful-looking people below, the ones gazing up at him now with wide, reverent eyes, their expressions caught somewhere between awe and worship, could be turned.

In an instant, the gentle smiles could vanish, replaced by snarls full of teeth and hate. Those same hands that now carried baskets of food or tools for work could become weapons, tearing and rending with a hunger for blood that was not their own.

From a loving people, warm and welcoming, they could become merciless predators, driven only by the Eternal Queen’s will and the intoxicating urge to destroy.

It was a cruel fate, one no one deserved, yet one that had claimed entire civilisations before...