Selfishness. A trait ingrained within the blood and bones of the Orthodoxies. From the way they lived, to even the way they designed their cities, everything about them screamed of selfishness. And it was not just the Orthodoxies themselves. Those living under their rule were just as selfish. Just looking at the mud path around him, covered in dirt and stones, trying to stab any and all who might try walking over them, was enough to explain how selfish these people were.
They themselves lived in houses of burnt bricks and wood, stable enough to withstand earthquakes, while just a few streets away from them, their brethren lived in in tiny, dilapidated houses, housing multiple families at a time, with barely any room for moving around, and on the verge of collapse. It was only because they supported the Orthodoxies that those vile people could perpetuate their lies and blasphemies.
It was not entirely their fault though. After all, they had never been exposed to the truth of the world. The truth of the Orthodoxies. Those vile people… They knew not what kindness was, only seeking pleasure in their degeneracy, willing to do anything to perpetuate their lies. Even committing blasphemy. If not for the preachings of his Supreme Lord, he would not even have bothered trying to explain his kindness to such people. However, that did not mean that his blood was not boiling.
Just next to him, on the side of the mud road, were the open drains of the city, if they could even be called as that. Carrying all the filth, and the stench from the core and inner cities, the drains also carried with them pieces of leftover food, mixed, and contaminated with the filth they were floating in. Yet, for the people of the outer city, it was the main source of their food. One they were willing to kill for. Fights would break out over just a small piece of bread, stained with human excreta, which more often than not, ended up with a couple of bodies being added to the flow of the drains.
And that was just a small part of the tragedy that these people had to bear. These Rootless people, who were not even given the chance to connect with the Origin Sea… To not even understand what true kindness meant. Without any fault of their own, they were thrust into the lair of evil just because of the virtue of their birth. Just because of the selfishness of a few.
With such tragedy… such evil spreading in the air, how could he remain silent? How could he just stay still, and not do anything about it? How could he bear the injustice being wrought upon the world? And so, he moved. And so, blood flowed. It began as a trickle, before it soon formed into a stream, and then a whole river. If not for some constraints, then it might have even turned into an ocean. Nonetheless, a river would do for his purpose.
Or maybe, a stream would have been enough, he noted, as he noticed the river flowing, mixing with the filth overflowing from the drains, wafting an unpleasant smell through the air, attracting all the flies and insects in the area. But a stream would have been too slow and inefficient for his purpose. And it would not have been enough to bring justice to the world. It would not have been enough to eliminate the evil in the air; to bring out the kindness in the people.
And so, despite the filth mixing into the river, he did not stop. One step at a time, he walked in that filth-stained river of blood, knowing exactly where to step, and where not to, advancing towards his destination. After all, it was not the first time he was stepping into such a river. At some point in time, all the blood and filth had stopped bothering him. Or maybe, they never bothered him in the first place. It was hard to remember things like that, unnecessary things that would not help him in his sacred mission.
Not the sacred mission he was executing at the moment, but his eternal sacred mission, to bring peace and justice to the entire world. To let the world bask in the glory of his Almighty Lord, Lord Supreme. For the moment though, he had to focus on his current sacred mission. And so, he walked where the river led him, towards his destination.
However, even though he walked in the river of blood and filth, the white loose trousers and shirt that he was wearing were spotlessly clean. Even his white cloak, flapping behind him on the vomit inducing wind, had no trace of any filth or blood on it. Even if the clothes that he was wearing were just a disguise, a way to let himself mingle with the people in order to complete his sacred mission, he could not just let himself get stained by all that filth and blood, right?
Maybe, that would not be too bad of an idea, he thought. At the very least, he would get an excuse to rid himself of the neo-Wanderer clothes that he was wearing. And from the look on the faces of the kind people following behind him, it looked like they did not like his clothes either. Of course, kind as they were, they did not say anything to him, but they did not have to. He could see it on their faces.
As he had thought, it was the robe that suited him the best. The ungainly, and cumbersome clothes of the neo-Wanderer style were not enough to bring out his true elegance. And the boots, the accursed boots. Blood and filth, he could get used to. But not boots. They just felt too unnatural to him. Yet he had already given his robes up. It did not make sense for him to go about in wooden sandals while donning some shirts and trousers.
And so, he walked barefooted. It felt like the most natural thing to him. It made him feel a connection with the earth beneath his feet. It made him feel one with the world. And he let himself immerse in the world, sharing everything with it, trying to bear its burden. That did not mean he would share in all of the grime and filth flowing on the ground. That had nothing to do with being one with the world.
So, he reached into his Aspect Ocean, and stirred one of his Aspects, while calling in Oren from the Origin Sea. The Aspect, one of the many he had command over, like an endless well, devoured all of the Oren being poured into it, before moving towards his feet, creating a small repulsive force around them. Wherever he stepped, all the blood and grime were pushed away from, making way for him to reach the ground unhindered, and let him be one with the world. Let him forget everything, and just be himself…
Not his sacred mission though. As he waded through the river, he did not forget his purpose for coming to the Oronir stained part of the city. There were times when he had actually forgotten his purpose. And had gotten into trouble for it. But this time, he did not. He had made sure that he would not forget it. It was quite easy when he thought about it. He just had to cast a Blood Tracking Arcana, and the river would take him to his destination on its own.
Blood River Divination it was called. It was quite a nifty Arcana. A kind soul had gifted it to him, after apologising to distract him. It was only a Second Stage, True Rank Arcana, and sometimes, it led him to the wrong people, but that was the fun of it. Ever since he had gotten the Arcana, he did not have to worry about getting scolded for getting distracted in his sacred mission, and delaying it. The kind man, while apologising profusely for his evil deeds, had told him that if he did it enough times, he was sure to get the right person in the end. With such sincere apologies, what else could he do, but accept it with grace?
Of course, that did not mean that he could let that man be. After all, his sins were too heavy. As such, he had personally cleansed the man of all his sins, and brought him to the embrace of the Supreme Lord. Just thinking about the look of gratification on the man’s face, as he had accepted the grace of the Supreme Lord brought a smile on his face.
In such a way, he walked with the river, drifting through his pleasant memories, while enjoying the process of subduing the evil. However, after a while, he was forced to stop in tracks, as the river that he was following stopped flowing. Not because he had reached his destination, but because the river was running out of blood. He frowned, and looked back towards the kind humans trudging along behind him.
“No!” yelled one of the humans. She too walked barefoot. As did the rest of them. They did not have the Aspects, or the Arcanas to keep their feet clean, but it looked like they were so engrossed in their quest for being one with the world that they did not even mind the blood and the grim getting on their feet. “Please, spare me! My child is just three years old. She can’t live without me. Spare me!”
“I don’t want to die… Mommy… I don’t want to die… Where are you mommy… Daddy…”
“...Rigard, you do it.”
“What are you talking about? Why should I die?”
“Because you are alone and have no family.”
“No! I don’t want to die! I will not…”
Knowing his plight, and the need of blood for his Blood Divination Arcana, they had volunteered to help him in his sacred mission. He had found it hard to believe as well. But they were just so moved by him, and his sacred mission, that they could not help volunteering themselves. As such, he was left with no other option but to recognise their dedication, and devotion. Who was he to deny the faith of the others?
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“You Monster!”
“Beast!”
“You are a Thrall in human skin!”
“Tion would never forgive you!”
“The Gods would never forgive you!”
There were some like this as well. People who were too shy to express their true desires. But he knew them well. He had had a lot of experience with such people. Everywhere he went, he could find such people. They were the ones who were always the first to move to help him with his sacred cause. Just like at the moment. A few of the women, holding their children in their arms, tried to run away from him the moment he looked at them.
Yet they had barely taken a few steps, when the bonds of wind binding them all together, dug into their necks, separating their head from their bodies. The same thing happened with the children in their arms. They fell onto the river, with their heads and their bodies separated from each other. Such kindly people, he thought. Even though they cried, and begged, and cursed, they were always trying to help him in his sacred mission.
His sacred mission though, was not easy to fulfil. Blood flowed from the bodies on the ground, replenishing the river, but it was not enough. And so, he reached into the Origin Sea, and called forth Oren into his Spirit. But this time, instead of directing the Oren to the Aspects, or his feet, he directed them to the bodies of the volunteers, those who had given themselves to the river for furthering the great cause. For someone of his calibre, directing Oren out of his body was easy. Oren, flashing in an indistinct light, gathered around the bodies. But it was still under the control of his Spirit, for it was he who had called the Oren.
The rest was even easier. He just had to use Blood Dissolution; a First Stage, True Rank Arcana given to him by the same kind person who had given him the Blood River Divination. Following the Arcana, he made some adjustments with the way he was handling Oren, causing a First Stage True Mystery to manifest, and further transform the Oren into a red blood like liquid, before he directed the blood like Oren to seep into the bodies on the ground.
Within moments of his action, the bodies on the ground began melting, transforming into blood themselves, merging into the river. And before he knew it, all the bodies were gone, leaving behind only a few scraps of clothes. On the other hand, the river, replenished to its brim, began overflowing, and once again, moving towards his destination. And he moved along with it, the large chain of shy humans following behind him, cursing and begging for mercy.
At times, a few of the more shy ones, the ones who did not know how to handle their embarrassment, would try to jump and hug him. How he wished he could hug them back as well. But he could not. He was on a sacred mission. And so, he could only make do by letting them help with the great cause a little earlier than expected, willing the bonds of wind on their neck to squeeze into their flesh, turning their bodies into a part of the river.
Thus, with the river rejuvenated, he went back on his path following the river as it flowed along the mud road, meandering its way through the closely packed houses. Made from mud, and stretched out sheets of cloths, most of the houses that he came across in his way were empty. Those that were not, only housed people who were too sick, or too weak to move. But that was not a problem. He accepted their help regardless.
After all, discrimination was one of the greatest sins. In the eyes of the Supreme Lord, all were equal. And he was just a messenger of his Supreme Lord. So, when the people in those houses volunteered to help further the great cause out of their kind will, who was he refuse them?
“There he is, Captain!”
“We found him!”
“He has at least a hundred hostages.”
At other times, he came across more active volunteers. People who came looking for him, to help him, on their own initiative.
“It’s the city guards! We are saved!”
“The guards have come to save us!”
“Don’t worry, we will save every one of you.”
Dressed in robes of red, blue, yellow, pink, white, and purple, and with their feet in wooden sandals, they looked a little different than his other volunteers.
“Release them this instant, Heterodox scum. There are ten of us, and you are alone.”
“And our Captain would be coming with more at any moment.”
If he was being honest, he felt a little abhorrence to these people. Or to anyone who followed the lies of evil, the lies of the so called ‘Gods’. It was fine if they lived in their own illusion, but these evil people went a step further, and also spread the lies that they were living in. Their help was one he could do without.
“Wait, look at their feet. Is that…”
“Iona save us… is all of that really blood? Just how many people did he kill?”
“What should we do?”
“Let’s wait for the captain…”
The Supreme Lord, however, kind as he was, the kindest of all the Lords, had no discrimination in his eyes. Even if the people in front of him had been deceived, and trapped in an illusion of lies, even if they disrespected his Supreme Lord, the Supreme Lord still forgave them, and accepted them with wide arms. And so, he did the same, opening his arms wide, and walking towards them in his most graceful manner.
“Captain’s here!”
“Where’s the Heterodox Wanderer?”
“...You can see it yourself, Captain. He is walking towards us…”
“Wh— Inkah’s bastard! Stop him!”
“H–How?”
Once he ignored the disgust welling up inside him, and looked at them with the eyes of his Supreme Lord, eyes that held no discrimination in them, he saw through the shyness of these people. Even when they were trapped in the lies that they were living, even when they were being controlled by the evil, from the bottom of their Hearts, they were still willing to help him, to help the great cause. Such kind people they were.
“Has Optah got your mind? Use all of your Arcanas and Aspects. Don’t hold anything back. Stop him from moving forward at all costs.”
“But he has hostages…”
The lies they were living though, was making it hard for them to see through their inner self, through their true self. So, as the messenger of the Supreme Lord, it fell upon him to help them. To make them see past the lies, past their shy self, and see the true inner desires of their Heart. To let them bask in the glory of the Supreme Lord. It was the least he could do for them after they had come all the way here to help him.
“What are you worried about? They are just the dregs of the outer city. They would have died sooner or later anyway. But we cannot let him move towards the inner city. Use everything that you have got. Don’t care about those behind him.”
However, these were not just random, normal people who were following behind him. These were the Wanderers, who had been trapped in the lies of the evil. Though he had many ways to help them, he could not use most of them. The easiest way would have been to set up a Glyph Array. But his Spirit was not strong enough to do that without any materials on hand. And he was not crazy to use Arcanas on them. They were just some shy people. Although he did not like them, it did mean that he would use any excuse to kill them.
“No! You can’t do that. Save us!”
“You are the City Guards. You have to protect us!”
“Please… I beg you… at least save my daughter…”
They were really good people who had come to help him. People, who were willing to cast aside the evil, the lies they were living, and bask in the glory of the Supreme Lord. Arcanas were out of the question. Maybe, if he had some Arcanas specialising in subduing others, then it would have worked. But he was no Arcanist. He just used the Arcanas that other kind people contributed to the great cause
“Captain…”
“God damn it! I am your Captain. Just shut up, and listen to what I am saying, or I will kill you first before the Heterodox scum gets to you. Get your Arcanas ready, and release them when I give the signal.”
Left with no other choice, he could only reach into his Aspect Ocean, and call for his Aspects, while assuming the Evil Suppressing, Kindness Spreading Style. Pushing away all the blood and filth away from his feet was one thing, but subduing more than twenty shy Wanderers, who were letting out their embarrassment by casting out their Arcanas was not something that could be done with rough usage of the Aspects.
“...We are ready, Captain.”
The Evil Suppressing, Kindness Spreading Style was something he had come up with after he had formed his Aspect Ocean. Inspired from the God Subduing Style of the Tianman Supreme, his Martial Style was based on the concept of helping other people get rid of their shyness, and bringing them to the glory of his Supreme Lord. Thus, following his Style, he pushed his right feet back, and left feet forward, concentrating all of his Aspects with repulsing properties on the surface of his feet and palm, keeping the others just below the surface, ready to switch out at any time.
“Now! Release them all at once! Drown him in everything you have got!”
As waves after waves of fire drowned him, while blades of wind rained down on him, he charged forward, barefoot, and barehanded, using his Aspects through the Evil Suppressing, Kindness Spreading Martial Style. However, since there were just too many people, Wanderers, who were being shy, he was not confident of suppressing all of them without hurting them a little.
“How is he doing that?”
“Those Aspects… He is a Fourth Stage True Warrior!”
“Inkah’s spit! Don’t just stare at him. He is all alone. Bring out your Aspects and charge!”
A few of them might lose a couple of their limbs, while the others would lose some other parts of their bodies. Still, as long as he would be able to bring out the kindness hidden within them, then everything would be fine. Once they would all learn of the lies that they were living in, he was sure that they would all gladly volunteer to help him with his great cause. His sacred mission. To find the one who had defied Inkah. To find the one who had defied death.