Chapter 120: Fated Meetings

Malice gave birth to a feeling of excitement within Zan’s chest— it was the anticipation of spiteful pleasure he'd get from throwing Shelly’s body into the river’s clutches.

The clear blue sky above had long transformed to an endless stretch of heavy and murky gray clouds.

In actuality, it was a mystery for whether those clouds were initially there in Zan’s memory at all.

The dark deity watched intently. First and foremost, she wanted to observe if this memory was being influenced by the darkness.

Saving a long explanation, the reason the spreading darkness influenced Zan’s memories in the first place, was so that it could concentrate its purity.

And the purity of one’s darkness, or even, the purity of one’s light for that matter, allowed the user greater access to the movement of infinity. Whether it was a paladin of light or a lord of darkness, both wielded immense power above their respective rank.

Now although the darkness was extending its reach within Zan’s heart, to truly concentrate the purity of its unholy structure required further seeping into Zan, and him as the whole being and existence that he was. This, included the memories he held deep within the realms of his heart.

Now, there was another reason for the entity’s keen attentiveness towards this particular memory…

The moon deity wanted to ascertain whether this memory, was one of the nodes that led to the birth of Zan's darkness in the first place.

Like the specks of light, there were specks of darkness floating within each individual’s heart and soul. On that topic, negative nodes were specks of darkness that were so intensely terrible, that they transformed into something similar to holes within a person’s heart.

Like voids that demanded to be filled, they acquired a destructive, devouring force like black holes.

And together, several negative nodes would resonate in discordant harmony, to churn out the first drop of liquid darkness.

Now that that teardrop had become a black ocean, the observing entity was curious to see what elements contributed towards its horrible birth.

Zan took another step to the edge of the river. The girl’s unconscious body in tow. Again, it was difficult to discern whether his aura of malice came from the original happenstance, or instead, was a byproduct of a more wicked influence.

Whichever the case was, it seemed Zan had already made a clear choice.

Zan extended his arms that held the unconscious little girl, and almost as if the river was starving, the flooding waves rose to the height of his outstretched arms to devour her.

…The scene was eerily similar to a demonic god accepting ritualistic sacrifice. The water seemed to have been possessed. The demon’s will, forcing itself into and violating the natural elements so that it could gorge more lustfully on flesh and soul.

Shelly’s body rose with the waves— floating upwards in an almost haunted and sinister way.

…And just before the water could pull her in, the clouds momentarily parted to reveal a single ray of white sunlight.

The ray of light fell, and by the way it fell it felt as if it tangibly smashed into the rising waves. Physically though, it was more gentle, like if a blue jay simply landed on top of a tree.

The waves faltered, somehow losing their will. It seemed as if they sunk back into the river, although it also felt like the waves of water were simply…simply dissipating into pure nothingness.

Shelly’s body stopped floating from whatever ungodly thing was just happening, and landed gently onto Zan’s arms.

…Unfortunately, Zan’s murderous intent that had turned into dark joy, switched right back around.

A feeling of disgust filled his body as if feces had touched his arms. And just as he was about to slip his arms from under her limp body, the sound of stumbling footsteps barrelled behind him.

Zan turned to look behind him— his face expressing a sort of…homicidal impatience.

Anyone who wasn't a killer themselves would have been affected by the gaze, even if it came from the small frame of a prepubescent young boy.

The proposed recipient of that gaze however…never actually got the chance to receive it.

A boy of similar age stumbled from out of the dark forests, and Zan observed him through the lenses of his own views.

The boy’s physique, was just slightly better than a body made of skin and bone. There was neither strength nor power stationed within. In Zan’s eyes his body was inadequate, and inferior.

His face was angular and even somewhat handsome, though probably only because there was no trace of fat on his face. Additionally, his head was fully shaven, adding to the sense of unhealthy feebleness his body already gave off.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

…Not that being bald was unhealthy. But in the area of surrounding villages where Zan lived, a head full of luscious hair usually suggested a nourished body. In fact…a head full of luscious hair probably meant a luxurious lifestyle for the people of the surrounding land. In the villages, hair was an important indicator for things such as marriage, and…

Anyway, whereas Zan ignored most books in favor of, kung-fu training, this individual seemed to have done the opposite, and spent most of his days buried in texts.

It was an accurate assumption, considering that when Zan turned his gaze, the boy had already tripped on his feet, twisted his ankle in a sorry effort to catch himself, and then faceplanted on his own wrist in a way that somehow dislocated his hand.

This absolute fool…had no sense of coordination at all! And he had weak bones— an even greater sin. He didn't drink enough milk! Like Zan did daily!

Strangely enough, the stranger's poor stumble and glorious faceplant into the dirt was so comically pathetic, that it took away from some of the severity of the situation.

“...Who the fuck are you?”

“Ugh…oh god of prosperity, it hurts.”

‘...He sounds pathetic too.’

Younger Zan glanced at the body of the little girl in his hands, before unceremoniously dropping her like unwanted baggage.

A shocked expression appeared on the stranger's face, before being quickly followed up by an expression of utter relief.

Shelly’s body landed roughly, but thankfully landed on the green solid ground, just mere centimeters away from the raging and roaring river.

In fact…her body was so close to the river that part of her left arm extended out from the dirt floor, and towards the wicked waters. It was…unfortunately just dangling there.

The flooding waters rose again into a tide, visibly swelling to abduct her through her outstretched hand…

Luckily the clouds parted, another ray of light hit the tide, and the wave fell. The waters that seemed as if they were going to devour her hand, ended up simply soaking it instead.

Unintentionally watching the scene, a hint of confusion showed itself on the young stranger’s face. He swore it felt like that water was alive for a second, and not in a good, nature-spirit type of way that was told in fairytale books.

His momentary look of confusion however, didn't escape a certain observing entity. In turn, she too grew a tad confused.

Even if the darkness was influencing this memory, the actors within would not be able to tell. Instead, the clumsy stranger should have treated any unnatural occurrence like something mundane, and normal.

Soon, the sound of footsteps on grass could be heard, and in the next moment, the stranger’s vision was blocked by Zan’s frame.

“I said who are you?”

“And what do you want?”

Zan’s tone changed from earlier. Although he no longer held onto a burning sense of rage and extreme intent to harm, his voice still carried harshness. Additionally, it now also carried…a tone of disapproval?

Looking down at him, Zan was judging the boy even more harshly now that he was in front of the stranger.

Something about his appearance and his mannerisms ticked Zan off. The unknown boy looked to be about his age, and yet, he looked so weak and pathetic. If some good-for-nothings wanted to mess with him, he was sure to be walked all over. He had no muscle, seemingly no backbone, and no presence at all.

Of course…those hateful qualities that the stranger reflected to him, were only the same qualities he never wished to see in himself again.

In response, the unknown boy met his eyes only to look away in the next second. He was already timid to begin with, and holding eye-contact with a person who not even a minute ago was about to throw someone into a river— wasn’t something he really preferred to do.

Still, he had come this far in revealing himself, so he pushed himself to blurt out his next words.

“I– I— Pl— Please don’t throw her into the river!” He cried out courageously, only his voice was less directed at Zan and more directed towards the floor. Not even a moment later, his body slumped like a wet noodle, as if it took all his energy to answer.

“Uhhh…The heck? Was that so hard for you?”

“...”

The young stranger didn't answer, but by the look on his red face the answer was probably yes.

Zan…found it funny. Both how the stranger's face looked like a tomato, and because of his silly outburst. A part of him even wanted to laugh.

…Instead however he chose to lean further into that feeling of rage burning inside his chest.

“...Do you know her?” Another subtle shift occurred in Zan’s tone. Somehow his voice became more subdued, and yet, more demanding to be heard.

“Umm…n– no…?”

“Nooo…?”

Zan extended the sound of the word. Both because he was confused, and suspicious. If he didn't know the girl, then why would he help her?

“...Then since how long were you here for?”

“I– I was— I was sitting here before the two of you came out of the forest, and saved those girls drowning in the river…”

“...Yeah?”

“So you saw and heard everything?”

“Umm…I– I guess I did?”

“And what did you do?”

“I–”

“You didn't run for help when my sister was in trouble?”

“Or when I was in hot shit?”

“I– I was so surprised— I didn't know what to d—”

“You didn't do anything.”

…At Zan’s words the young boy’s face grew redder, this time in shame.

“So I don’t get it. Why would you come out now, if you didn’t know her?”

“I— I…”

“Because…”

“Stop.”

“Now I think about it, I don't really care. Just sit there again, and don’t try to do anything.”

Zan turned his back on the stranger, and started walking back towards that girl named Shelly.

He considered whether the unknown boy was going to attack him when he wasn't looking, but whoever he was, Zan was inclined to believe that he was harmless.

Through the lens of Zan’s perception, the unknown boy was a…herbivore. He posed no threat. The only danger he could present was to himself.

Although…maybe Zan was wrong.

Zan heard the rustling of grass and the movement of a body. It seemed he had misjudged and underestimated the meek stranger.

Zan turned his head behind him to see the stranger lunging towards his legs. Instinctively his body spun around swiftly and calmly, while his right knee rose and delivered itself right to the boy's face.

The dull sound of bone hitting flesh then bone rang out.

The boy’s head noticeably recoiled backwards as blood spurted out of his misshapen nose and torn lips. His body seemed to have lost all control after that moment, and the last thing Zan saw before he turned his head dismissively, was the boy's body falling towards the floor.

A blur of colors accompanied by red hues encompassed everything the stranger could see. The pain from his broken nose and bleeding lips was unbearable, especially for someone unaccustomed to pain. He was already on his way to fainting, and before even his body itself would hit the dirt ground.

…And yet, on his way down the boy's body suddenly resurrected. Energy and the smoldering flame of life returned to him, brought back by the one thing called purpose.

Using all of his willpower and resolve, he barrelled forwards during his fall. He almost couldn't feel his legs— although he could unfortunately feel all the pain of his sprained ankle.

Zan thought he would hear a soft thump on the dirt and grass, but instead he once again heard those same stumbling footsteps.

Not a moment later, he felt the heavy weight of a body falling onto his right leg.

The unknown boy then wrapped his arms around it, and clutched on so stubbornly and tightly, that it seemed as if his own life depended on it.

Zan looked down on the young stranger, and his miserable and pitiful display.

Blood running down his face, the young boy finally raised his head to match Zan’s eyes.

“Please don't do it.”