Chapter Seventeen: Saving the Monster

“Great Ancient One, please, no! It is our guardian spirit!” The boy’s grandfather was the first to cry out. Following his lead, the villagers scrambled to their feet, shouting as they rushed to stand before the Ancient One, blocking his path.

The hostility in the Ancient One’s eyes was unmistakable. The suffocating tension moments before had revealed his intent—though the villagers could not understand the reason, their affection for Tigras moved them to instinctively shield the monster.

The Ancient One, bearing a striking resemblance to Agul, halted and swept his gaze over the small crowd, then merely shook his head.

Makoto dragged Tetsuya away, speaking rapidly, “The battle is about to begin. We need to get away from here.”

Camilla still could not accept that the Ancient One she had always revered could appear so ruthless. She tried to argue, but a violent tremor behind her made her pause. Turning, she saw the Ancient One leap into the air and deliver a brutal kick that sent Tigras sprawling onto the ground. The villagers cried out nearby, but the fight had begun, heedless of their safety or lives.

“This isn’t how it’s supposed to be…” Camilla broke free from Tetsuya’s grip, intent on running back toward the villagers. “I’ll speak to the Ancient One—I’ll tell him Tigras means no harm.”

Makoto stepped forward, seizing her by the wrist. His gaze was cold, devoid of emotion. “Don’t you understand yet? None of this is as beautiful as you imagined! What can you do now? Do you really think you can stop him?”

“I… I…” Camilla shook her head in panic before declaring, “I can become a giant too!” She was still unwilling to accept her identity as a dark deity, always referring to herself as a giant.

Makoto slapped her, his eyes glinting. “You know how close we are to R’lyeh. If you become the dark god, do you know what consequences will follow?”

Meanwhile, the Ancient One turned his back to the villagers, gathering light energy in his palm and sending everyone far from the scene, leaving the beach as the battlefield. With a roar, Tigras’ massive body slowly rose, stones and gravel cascading from him. He charged at the Ancient One.

A resounding crash forced the Ancient One back several paces. He blocked Tigras with his arms, then, with a sudden burst of strength, sidestepped and hurled Tigras to the ground.

Tetsuya and his companions had joined the villagers by now. None could bear to watch the confrontation; frustration gnawed at their hearts, but they were powerless to intervene in a battle between such mighty beings.

Tears streamed down the boy’s face as he looked to his grandfather, who was also wiping his eyes. Sobbing, the boy asked, “Grandpa… isn’t Tigras a good monster?”

The old man nodded.

“Isn’t the Ancient One supposed to protect us humans?”

The old man’s tears fell all the more, but he could only nod again.

“Then why are they fighting each other?” Once both were beings of light—why must they battle?

Tetsuya gazed into the distance, the answer clear in his mind. The Ancient One and the monster belonged to different races. Perhaps the interests they represented inevitably led to conflict. Unlike Tigras, who asked nothing of humanity, the beings of light depended on humans for their existence. Maybe they desired more—not just the title of guardian spirit, but to become true gods to mankind. For their own interests, the Ancient One had to destroy any outsider who possessed great power.

The so-called protection extended by the Ancient One to humanity was, in truth, grounded in self-interest—far from the selfless ideal he proclaimed.

Tigras roared in fury, hauling his vast body off the ground and charging once more. The rocky shell on his body had shattered in places, wounds from earlier battles reopening.

When Tigras was still dozens of meters away, the Ancient One leaped up and delivered a heavy kick to Tigras’ chest. He then sprang upward, his hand striking down like a blade on Tigras’ shoulders, shattering large chunks of rock.

With his left hand, he seized Tigras’ head and drove his knee into it. Roaring with rage, Tigras used his right hand to hurl the Ancient One off. The giant body crashed into the water, sending up a spray of foam.

“Tigras! Defeat him!” The boy suddenly broke free from his grandfather’s grasp and ran forward, shouting his encouragement to Tigras.

The villagers, already frustrated, remembered how the Ancient One had not appeared when real monsters attacked, only arriving after Tigras had defeated the threat—and now he was attacking their guardian. Their anger had reached its peak. The boy’s shout was the spark that set it ablaze; all the villagers began to cheer Tigras on with raised fists, their cries resounding one after another.

Camilla shook her head helplessly, tears falling from her beautiful eyes. She had been born in R’lyeh, where people truly revered the Ancient Ones as gods. She could hardly believe what she was witnessing…

Yet reality now revealed itself to her, starker and far crueller than anything she had ever been told.

Tetsuya turned to Makoto and asked, “Is there any way to drive this Ancient One away?”

Makoto considered for a moment, then said, “None of us can intervene. Let me think…”

Soon, he offered an answer: “Among the Old Ones who dwell in the sea, there are Gatanjahe the Judge, the Deep One of Chaos, Baikuhe the Reaper, and Queen Monetra.”

He paused. “Gatanjahe and the Deep One both dwell in the seabed of Mu, near R’lyeh. Only Baikuhe and Monetra… Baikuhe is an immense species. I’ll try to contact them.”

At that moment, the Ancient One had risen and, with a shoulder throw, slammed Tigras to the ground. Under the villagers’ anguished, angry gazes, he straddled Tigras and began to batter his rocky shell with savage hand-chops.

Fist after palm struck down; soon, most of Tigras’ protective shell had been smashed away, red blood staining the sea, his agonized howls echoing in every ear.

With a gasp, Tigras summoned his strength and threw the Ancient One off before staggering unsteadily to his feet.

Seeing Tigras’ battered form, Tetsuya heard the villagers’ muffled sobs around him. The monster’s exposed skin looked almost human, even resembling the rosy hue of a newborn’s flesh, like a swollen, quivering mass. Tigras tried to flee, but had barely taken a few steps when the Ancient One sprang up from the water. In midair, he tilted forward, his arm sweeping past Tigras’ shoulder—a flash of light, and blood erupted from Tigras’ body like a volcanic fountain, staining the beach crimson.

Even Tetsuya, who felt little for the monster, could not bear to watch. He clenched his fists, suppressing his urge to intervene, and glanced at Makoto, who still had his eyes closed, urging, “Is it done yet?”

“No!” The boy broke free and ran forward, shouting at the top of his lungs. Tetsuya’s heart leapt—he looked up to see the Ancient One, facing the devastated Tigras, crouching slightly, arms crossed over his chest, the energy of light surging around him.

A torrent of light was about to be unleashed.