The birds cloaked in the feeble power of the gods tried to chirp something, but I didn’t listen. I just crushed and burst them all. My children showed no hesitation in that either. The humans covered in that blood crawled on the ground and wailed like salted insects.
—I’m pretty sure I told you, didn’t I? Not to make noise.
Thud, thud. With each step I take, everything trembles. What was trampled became filth of unknown origin. Nothing more than organic matter that will rot and decay, just trash that will return to soil.
I looked down at the humans who were flustered like ants hit with water, not knowing what to do, and spoke.
—I am the origin and proof of all things with roots. I am the headless dog, the cursed white serpent, and the progenitor of oak trees. You called me Levia-Rishian. I am the monster that regenerates and cycles, the unchanging one.
Where flowers bloom, my eyes and ears are, and where leaves rest, my will shall be carried out.
—I gave these things time to sort themselves out, and instead they just incited more fighting.
All things with roots resonated with my words. They tore human flesh and crushed bones. And they accepted my voice, spat it back out like an echo, and spread it everywhere.
In places where my proven children exist, if one has ears and reason, no one would fail to hear.
—How dare you insignificant things test me.
A chill settled in the humid air. And from high above, large hail fell. They mercilessly struck down the humans on the ground. I looked up at the sky. The sky is not my domain. That is the territory of ‘Ibini Who Cannot Perch.’
I didn’t say it, but you must have been troubled by the noise too. Well, that one couldn’t come down even if it wanted to. True to its name, it cannot perch. It might have just been waiting for someone to step up instead. Even if that one got angry, it’s obvious the humans wouldn’t understand why.
The thousands of gods seemed to try to stop our fury, but what could they do with that pathetic divine power? Human faith is as shallow as their existence.
—Look closely. See whose wrath your arrogance has bought.
I won’t kill them all. The more there are to spread the word, the better. I’ll spare most of them if I can. That said, I won’t avoid them just to spare them. My children and I just plowed through the humans and moved forward.
The first thing we did was smash the gods’ cathedrals. The servants of the gods rushed at us without exception, but nothing dared to stand against us.
—In my territory, without my permission, who dares stand against me?
Not just the cathedrals, but we thoroughly searched out and smashed every small shrine too. Those who don’t resist are spared. Those who rush at us die. It’s a simple principle. The humans gave up on protecting the thousands of gods. They just bowed their heads and desperately waited for me and our fury to pass by.
Birds flew at us endlessly, but nothing could reach us. Because ‘Ibini’s’ fury was no less than mine. The hail grew bigger and bigger, beating the abominable divine messengers to death. The birds consumed by fear no longer accepted the gods’ manifestations. Everyone scattered in all directions, burying their heads in the ground and hiding.
The sky’s color, dead and pitch black, the ground’s color stained with leaves turned sharp blue-green with poison rising to the brim. And the blood and screams that soaked that ground. Clamor swept through everywhere.
—Didn’t I clearly say it? If you do this one more time, you’ll truly see annihilation.
Breaking a few cathedrals won’t cause immediate disaster. Even if I do that, the humans who believed won’t suddenly deny the gods one day. If faith disappears from that, that’s also fate. It was shallow faith anyway, so what’s the problem?
—If you’re so desperate, build your cathedrals outside my territory. That would work, right? Why do you insist on making your sanctuaries on my land? These things have no end when you let them off easy.
Only then did the gods plead with me to stop, saying they were wrong with moisture in their voices, but I ignored that too.
I wasn’t too harsh with the humans. I only dealt with them very minimally.
Humans are creatures that live in groups. It couldn’t have been mere subordinates who kept doing this. In the end, it must have been done at the command of their tribe’s leaders. Then, I just need to remove the tribe’s leaders.
The leaders of human tribes are called kings or emperors, I heard. I hung those things alive on trees and peeled their skin. And I made them die very slowly, for a very long time. So that many things would witness that terrible sight for a long, long time.
The things gasping for breath with their red flesh exposed remained alive until they withered and their bones crumbled. I made it so. I displayed the most painful appearance for as long as possible. That’s how they’ll come to their senses.
I only dealt with those who did wrong. It’s not like all humans did wrong. They were made to do it by the leaders of their tribes, so what sin do those things have? I hung several human leaders on display like that and warned them sternly.
—If you make noise again next time, you’ll truly go extinct. Engrave this deeply.
Even in death, these things won’t find rest. Until I forgive them, they will cry out with their souls day and night, confessing their sins in that place. And humans will see that sight continuously across generations.
If I’ve done this much, they should understand.
***
“Ah, I finally feel like I can live now.”
“…It’s so quiet my ears feel numb.”
Havi pretended to clean his ears while saying that, but his face wasn’t bad. He’s just saying that. How noisy must it have been all this time? I lay down and rolled around with my much more comfortable body and mind.
“If I’ve done this much, they should get it, right?”
“They better. Otherwise it’s extinction.”
After thoroughly performing that exorcism, it’s finally quiet now. Why are humans so dense? They only listen when the other party gets angry, honestly. If they do well on their own when asked nicely, it’s convenient for everyone. Why create uncomfortable situations? I’m already low on energy from having one arm torn off and eaten.
Our Dryads were insisting we should really make them go extinct, but I was busy calming the kids down, saying I wouldn’t go that far. They must have gotten really angry thanks to the humans’ war fighting all this time. They were actually more worked up than me.
“But are you okay just leaving those things? Just drive them all out like you first thought.”
“I went down thinking that too… but most of the humans are living in my territory.”
“…What?”
“Last time I only went down below the nest, so I didn’t know. But when I went down this time and turned everything upside down, all the humans were in my territory. If I push them all out, it seems like they’ll go extinct.”
I really had no choice but to leave them. I didn’t know humans were this numerous, and I only just found out that all those numerous things are parasitizing in my territory. I just thought they’d only settled below my nest.
I did know there were humans there since things that speak from far away occasionally do so, but I didn’t know the numbers were that high. Really. Almost all the humans in this garden were parasitizing in my territory. Good grief.
To sort all of that out would really make them go extinct, so I had no choice but to allow it. I thought it was just a few individuals gathered in small numbers here and there. I could allow that much easily. But it turns out they’re spread throughout almost every area. To the point where I couldn’t find an empty spot.
“It’s annoying to hear, but I’m not surprised. Humans are omnivores. They eat grass too, so your territory must have been good for parasitizing.”
“It’s ridiculous. The things fighting below my nest were actually the better ones. At least those things entered after receiving permission. The others are things that secretly crawled in without even saying anything.”
I went down because of the noise pollution below the nest, and came back after turning over all the human tribes. I didn’t do anything tremendously big. I just completely dried out the blood of the leaders of the tribes that were secretly parasitizing without permission. Apart from being impudent, the other subordinates aren’t guilty, so I finished with just that much.
“Even Urgo, the King of Beasts, never entered my territory without my permission, so what kind of nerve did they really have?”
“What would humans know? They just think they’re great. They’re kids who think only they exist in the world.”
“…The worst are the thousands of gods. The humans, well, let’s say they didn’t know, but these things knew and still made them build sanctuaries on my land. If they were that desperate, they should have dragged the humans elsewhere and built it to settle in their own place.”
“Ugh, trashy things.”
Havi replied indifferently and started eating the rest of his watermelon. I don’t know where he got those watermelons the size of his palm. Anyway, he’s quite resourceful. Havi came this time partly because it got quiet, but also to bring me some watermelon to try. I ate one out of courtesy.
“But don’t you smell human blood somewhere?”
“…It seems like one of our kids is bringing something.”
I noticed it too. I tried to speak to them wondering what it was, but the kid was excited and didn’t respond, so I was waiting to see for myself. Looks like Havi finally noticed too.
As we stared at the nest entrance, a Dryad came carrying a blood-covered human. Havi’s face crumpled completely at the sight.
“Why did they bring that?”
“I don’t know.”
What is this? Why did they bring it? As I kept watching, the Dryad spoke in a happy voice.
—Progenitor! Progenitor! Look at this! It’s pretty!
“…It’s almost dead though.”
—Progenitor likes pretty things! This is pretty! Progenitor will be happy!
“You brought it to give to me?”
—It’s pretty!
Then it trotted over and set it down in front of me. Havi and I looked down at it while munching on watermelon.
—Progenitor likes pretty things! And likes humans! Pretty human!
“…I don’t like humans anymore.”
As if shocked by my words, the Dryad tilted its head.
—Progenitor dislikes humans?
“No, it’s not that I dislike them, but…”
—But this is pretty!
“Well… is it, pretty?”
The human that was picked up was an adult male.
