Chapter 131 - Without Mercy

 "Allowed to live by the earth...?! Don't make me laugh!"

Below my eye level, the Third Prince, Gangastra, still couldn't cast aside his arrogance. Even though he had descended into a pit of his own making, putting him in a position where I looked down upon him, he still acted as if he ruled the world.

"My skill can pulverize the earth with ease! Having obtained the ultimate skill, I am a being that surpasses nature itself! The earth should be grateful to be trampled by me! By the strongest existence that I am!!"

"I see. In that case, I’ll simply stop 'allowing you to live' even further."

Don't think that the only thing being granted to you is the solid ground beneath your feet.

Earlier, I used the power of the [Earth Stigma]—given to me by the Earth Spirit, Blast-Hole—to turn the ground into mud and rob Gangastra of his footing. Now, let’s try using the [Pyro Stigma], a gift from the Fire Spirit, Napalm.

"…Ngh, what’s this?"

The change was instantaneous. The Third Prince immediately noticed the anomaly and began to shiver.

"What is this? Cold? My body is freezing… Is this your doing?! What did you do?!"

"I am stripping the heat from your body."

Napalm, the Fire Spirit, governs not just raging flames, but heat itself throughout the world. Disturbing a human's normal body temperature of 36°C is a simple task. This time, I chose to take his heat away. I could have done the opposite, but I wanted him to experience the hell of having something he takes for granted suddenly removed.

"Gwaaaaaaah?! Cold?! It’s so cold?! What is this?! My body feels like it’s turning to ice…!"

"Thirty-six point five degrees. If a human deviates from that ideal temperature by just a degree or two, their biological rhythms collapse immediately, leading to severe impairment. And the most important factor in maintaining that temperature is the heat of the world around you."

The heat from the sun; the geothermal heat rising from deep within the earth... these are the things that warm a freezing human. Even the clothes humans weave with their wisdom are made from plant fibers grown from the earth. The very warmth a human needs to survive is nothing more than a gift from nature.

"He who controls heat can also steal it. I could lower your temperature to absolute zero right now. I wonder, could you survive that?"

"Curse you…! Such a cowardly trick…!"

I don't even need to turn you into an ice statue. Even without going that far, once a human's core temperature drops below 35°C, their muscles stiffen; below 28°C, they fall into a coma; and below 20°C, they freeze to death. Your blood flow slows, frostbite sets in, and your extremities rot away in a gruesome display.

Gangastra tried to counterattack, but stuck in the mud, he couldn't even stand upright, let alone charge at me. He was facedown on the ground, his hands sinking in up to his elbows. Because I was only stripping heat from the Prince himself, the mud around him didn't freeze. Such fine-tuning is only possible with the power of a Spirit.

"Do you understand now? Just how much you are given by nature in order to keep living…?"

I told you I wouldn't kill you. I said I would stop allowing you to live. Do you understand what that means now? I am simply cutting off the supply of things you need.

Ground. Heat.

Things that have been given to you every single day—things you assumed were yours by right. I have simply stopped giving them to you. I haven't even "taken" them. Can you feel how small you are, becoming unable to survive the moment those gifts cease?

"Survival of the fittest… you were shameless enough to say that, weren't you? But humans, beasts, and plants alike—we are all equally weak before the absolute power of Mother Nature. The weak survive only by clinging to the scraps falling from the Great Power. That is the truth of this world."

To misunderstand that truth and act arrogant while brandishing a "strength" that only works among humans is a pathetic sight. I will make you realize your own conceit by taking away the things you think are "guaranteed."

"G-gaaaaaah…! I am the strongest… I am invincible… nothing in this world can stop me…!"

Sinking into the mud and shivering from the cold, the Third Prince still refused to change his foolish ways.

"Gods and nature alike shall obey me! If I rule with this power, I can take the earth's hardness and heat for myself!! Gwaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Still talking? What a hopeless man. In that case, I have no choice but to cut off yet another supply. Using the power of the third mark I just obtained, the [Air Stigma]…

"Geh—?! Choke… Gag…!"

"The power of the [Air Stigma] you wanted so badly… why don't you experience it for yourself?"

Harp is the Wind Spirit. By using the power of the one who governs the flow of air, what can I "stop giving" to the Prince?

"It’s hard… to… breathe…!"

Exactly. I stopped the supply of air for him to breathe. Humans must constantly inhale fresh oxygen to survive. Even a child knows this. Using the Air Stigma, I prohibited air from entering his mouth and nose, sealing his respiration. Even breathing, which a person must do every moment without fail, is only possible because nature provides fresh air.

This is more urgent than the ground or the heat. The line between life and death arrives in mere seconds. I wonder, arrogant Prince, can you maintain your bravado through this?

"Gaaaaaah?! Gasp… Wheeze…!"

"The more you struggle, the more oxygen you consume, bringing you closer to death. But I didn't kill you. You are simply destroying yourself."

None of the methods I’ve used were intended to "murder" him. He is simply dying on his own as a result of me cutting off the supply of things he needs to live. This is what I meant by not letting you live.

Survival is not easy. Life is a sort of miracle, maintained only by the constant supply of various things from various places. To disregard that, to grow conceited just because you are strong, and to despise others while forgetting your own gratitude… this is the fitting end for such a fool.

"How does it feel, 'Strongest'? Have you realized your own weakness and insignificance?"

"Gugohhh…!"

"You, who call yourself the strongest, are nothing but a speck of dust that could be blown away by nature. I don't even need to do anything to defeat you; nature is always providing the things that keep you alive. Simply stopping those gifts is enough to kill you."

"Gehhhhhh!"

"You are nothing more than a tiny existence. If you admit that and surrender, I might consider resuming the supply of things you need."

"Guh… eh…?"

Hmm? What’s that? I can't hear you.

"I… lose. Give… the air… back…!"

"Is that any way to ask someone for a favor?"

"Air… please…! I’ll die like this…! Heat… the ground…!"

"In that case, isn't there something else you should say? What has little Gangastra done to me? Hmm? Gangastra, Third Prince of Niosebuk?"

"I… lose…! It is my loss!! I have completely lost to you!! So please, I beg you, save me…!!"

"Hmm, I think there’s more. Is little Gangastra the strongest? Or the weakest? Which is it?"

"W-w-weakest!! I am the weakest man, who foolishly tried to challenge you!! So please…!!"

"……"

"Gugogegagaga…!"

The Third Prince’s eyes rolled back, and he began to foam at the mouth. As he stood on the brink of suffocation, I shifted the situation and allowed the air to flow again.

"Zeh—?! Gasp! Haaaaaah!"

He opened his mouth wide, gasping for air. At the same time, I returned his body temperature and the mud beneath him to normal. Then, I stepped right in front of him.

"Well? Has your weakness finally sunk in?"

"Gueh… gehh…!"

"No matter how 'strong' your ability to murder someone is, it means nothing. Especially before Mother Nature. Everyone survives because nature—and people weaker than themselves—give them what they need. Those who can't understand that don't live long."

"Guh… S-such… magnificent power…!!"

Gangastra steadied his ragged breathing and began to speak—something ominous.

"He who is marked by the Spirits is granted their power… if one can obtain the power of all six, the whole world is theirs…! The legends recorded in Niosebuk were true. That power… it is truly fitting for me!"

Oh?

"Fool…! Did you think you won just because I feigned submission?! Victory belongs to the one who survives until the end!! You, who foolishly stopped your attack and approached me of your own accord, have no right to be a victor!"

With that, he lunged, throwing a punch at point-blank range—imbued, of course, with his [Molecular Decay] skill.

"I am the only one who needs to control the Spirits! For the sake of my supreme path, DIE! Crr-ack! Gyaaaaaaaaah!"

Blood sprayed into the air. Simultaneously, something thick as a log flew through the sky, spinning before gravity claimed it and sent it crashing to the ground.

"So much for [Molecular Decay]… That 'strongest skill' was surprisingly easy to counter."

"My arm?! My arm was torn off!! Gwaaaaaaaaaah!"

Gangastra writhed on the ground, clutching the stump of his right arm as blood splattered everywhere.

It’s true that his skill is the strongest in terms of destructive power. No one can defend against it, and there is likely no other skill with a more absolute function of destruction. However, a skill—no matter how powerful—is meaningless if it isn't allowed to activate.

My staff skill, [Extend], allows me to instantly extend or retract a pole in my hand. Its speed is hundreds of times the speed of sound. It is a terrifying skill; the moment I think "I'll do it," it’s already over, without even a millisecond of lag.

I had watched his skill many times, including during that execution event in the city. The few seconds it takes to activate. The tell-tale preparatory movements. The little habits that give away his timing. Having mastered all of those, I can crush his opening move with the lightning speed of [Extend].

Speed is strength. Thanks to that, I have no fear of losing to him in a direct confrontation, no matter what absolute destruction skill he tries to use.

"Did you really think I’d believe the words of a scumbag like you?"

"Gwaaaaaaaah! Gwaaaaaaaaaah!"

"I knew you would betray me. I knew you’d spit out hollow words of surrender, wait for a 'kind soul' like me to show an opening, and then attack with your ugly true nature."

The reason I saved him wasn't out of the goodness of my heart. I wanted him to taste defeat. A perfect, flawless, absolute defeat that left no room for excuses. I wanted to crush him with my own skill, so he couldn't claim he only lost because I had the Spirits' power. Furthermore, making him beg for his life like a pathetic dog, only for him to try a sneak attack and get countered… it’s the height of disgrace.

"For someone who talked about being the 'strongest'… you look pathetic."

I spoke while pointing the tip of my pole at him.

"It’s humiliating, isn't it? Since you’ve spent your life bragging about your strength, having your pride shattered like this must hurt. It leaves a scar on your soul, doesn't it? For the sake of all the people you’ve tormented until now… that pain in your heart is necessary."

The people on the borders threatened by Niosebuk. The members of the Merchant Coalition forced into impossible terms. The people of the Dwarven Kingdom suffering under semi-occupation. All those whose countries were destroyed and whose small happinesses were stolen by you.

Nothing you’ve taken can ever be returned. Most of it is irreversible. That is why, as at least some small consolation for those who grieve, you must suffer to the absolute limit. If it lowers the people's resentment by even a single millimeter, it’s worth it.

"Fool… do you think you’ve won just by cutting off my right arm…? Against the strongest, Gangastra?!"

"Oh?"

"Even a child knows… that humans have another arm!! Hyaaaaah!"

With that, the Third Prince swung at me with his left fist. You really are an idiot. You saw your right arm get perfectly countered; do you really think you can succeed with your non-dominant hand doing the exact same thing?

I’ll just crush the opening again and be done with it. I went to thrust my pole forward… but someone grabbed my hand, and I couldn't move.

"Wh—?!"

The one who grabbed my arm… was Tamagushi. A betrayal at this of all times?!

This is bad—the Prince’s fist is closing in and I can't use my staff! At this rate, I’ll be ripped apart at the molecular level!

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