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I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit [797]
🕑 Added 2025-11-13 18:09:14 +0000 UTCAfter arranging everything, Nitocris met once more with the "Spiral Organ," Leanan-sidhe. She repaired the treasured painting for her as agreed, then finally set off toward the location of the Snake of the Festival, the Crimson God of Creation. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely accurate to say "set off," as Nitocris’s true body existed outside the human world, in the gap between worlds; only her consciousness and a portion of her power resided within Hirai Yukari.
This was a boundless space, defying every law of the mortal world—no concepts of volume, distance, or direction. Impossible to discern orientation, no positional reference, and no ordinary laws held sway here. To a Crimson God, who embodied the laws themselves, it was as disorienting as a human suddenly cast unprepared into the void of outer space.
Yes, precisely like a certain "Pillar Man" banished into space for being too invincible to ever return.
Therefore, even the Snake of the Festival himself could not use his own power to return to the human world, and could only await someone else to pull him out.
Also, precisely because concepts of direction and distance didn’t exist here, Nitocris couldn’t find the Snake without a "compass."
Since the Snake of the Festival intended for the "Trinity" to free him from this prison, he must have prepared such a "compass"—the Supreme Priestess Hecate, the Arbiter of Reverse Reasoning Bel Peol, and the Reiji Maigo.
The primary purpose of the Reiji Maigo was to facilitate the creation of the new world and allow the Snake’s consciousness to descend, since only his divine power could ensure the "Trinity" safely crossed the barrier of worlds, stepping into this treacherous gap.
Hecate, Bel Peol, and the Reiji Maigo were now all in Nitocris’s possession, and within this chaotic, lawless space, a "path" suddenly appeared.
Follow this "path," and one would reach the sanctum where the true body of the Snake of the Festival slumbered.
Along the way, Nitocris also encountered some black shadows. They were somewhat like Torches, pale blue flames flickering at their chests.
These were ancient Flame Hazes. During that battle three thousand years ago, these Flame Hazes had employed secret methods to exile the Snake of the Festival but failed to escape in time. They ended up sealed here alongside him, wandering aimlessly for three millennia, gradually losing their sense of self, leaving only a stubborn attachment to their mission.
"If the 'Smoking Mirror' were here, he would surely feel outraged. Warriors who could banish even gods, unquestionably the bravest and strongest—yet in death unable to find rest or peace. Such a fate is exactly what that man detests the most."
Naturally, Nitocris herself found this equally intolerable.
Indeed, any god associated with death would refuse to accept such a miserable end.
These restless souls were likewise tragedies brought about by Crimson Denizens. If nothing changed, such tragedies would inevitably recur.
"Warriors, your mission is your glory as well as your chains. Now, I’ve come to free you from these chains."
More and more shadows surrounded her. Nitocris was no Flame Haze; thus, these lost souls, devoid of self-awareness and judgment, treated her only as an enemy coming to release the Snake of the Festival.
Had they still retained their consciousness, they might have posed some challenge to Nitocris. But as mere wandering souls, they posed no threat whatsoever to her, the wielder of Authority over death.
As Nitocris released her divine power, the shadows dissipated entirely, their souls collected within her divine realm. Once she defeated the Snake of the Festival, she would spend time nurturing these exhausted souls back to health.
Continuing onward, at last, at the end of this "path," Nitocris came face-to-face with the true body of the Snake of the Festival.
It was an enormous serpent seemingly forged from the deepest night and eternal silence itself, its entire body covered in dark, obsidian-like scales, each reflecting a radiance that didn’t exist in the mortal realm. Its colossal form extended and coiled, surpassing visual comprehension; merely glimpsing its shape evoked the Midgard Serpent—Jörmungandr—from Norse myth, encircling the entire world, biting its own tail.
Dark, profound black flames flowed slowly over his vast form like living creatures, burning silently—not dazzlingly bright nor faintly dim, simply existing eternally, as though part of his divine essence. Simultaneously, a majestic divine presence, incredibly vast, continuously radiated from his towering body, washing over the space like invisible tides.
The ferocity of a beast and the holiness of a deity reached a delicate balance within him.
Some said the greatest difference between beast and human was that beasts followed instincts, indulging their desires, while humans restrained themselves through reason, aspiring to higher spiritual realms.
Thus, as an affirmer and embodiment of "desire" itself, the Snake of the Festival’s divinity naturally held an animalistic aspect—not as a degradation or defect, but as the very essence of his divinity. He neither denied nor suppressed, but regarded the most primal impulses and yearnings of life as the fountainhead and motive of creation. His coiling serpentine form and dark flames perfectly symbolized the purest, highest nature of his divine authority.
"You have arrived, god of humanity."
The enormous serpent spoke in a human voice, recognizing Nitocris.
This was natural, as the Snake of the Festival had been observing the human world continuously through Hecate and Bel Peol.
Nitocris hadn’t intended to hide her purpose either.
In first impressions alone, the Snake of the Festival closely resembled Alastor. Both shed the expected grandeur and aloofness of gods in mortal imagination, appearing unexpectedly peaceful, even carrying a calm gentleness.
His voice was deep and soothing, bearing a reassuring magnetism reminiscent of distant earth tremors. His tone held no trace of overbearing divine authority, instead more akin to a wise elder who, after many trials, retained composure and magnanimity.
Yet their fundamentally opposing positions doomed them never to become amicable friends, only foes whose ideals clashed irreconcilably.
The Snake of the Festival intended to create "Xanadu," an ideal realm granting absolute freedom to the Denizens of the Crimson Realm. Precisely because it was ultimate freedom, even the desire to devour humans was accepted and promised fulfillment. On the contrary, Nitocris vowed to defend humans and the existing order of the world. Her sword was aimed at cutting off all intrusions from the Crimson Realm, ending the tragedies and distortions brought by the Denizens, and completely banishing every "abnormality" from the human world—leaving not one behind.
No unnecessary courtesies or tentative words were exchanged, as both were fully aware that neither’s convictions nor determination allowed any compromise. Their resolve would never waver through mere dialogue.
Bathing in pure white blazing flames, Nitocris’s form underwent a transformation.
Her short, neatly cut hair began flowing outward like a river of stars, strands containing within them an infinitely deep cosmos, starlight twinkling and shifting among them. The simple cloth wraps originally encasing her lower body unraveled and dispersed, becoming ribbons of luminous light circling her form.
Her once deathly grey flames were purified completely, transformed into utterly pure, flawless white divine fire, solemnly and fervently enveloping her entire body. An ancient mirror of the underworld floated behind her head, its surface seemingly reflecting the underworld itself, along with the death of all creation.
A pair of vast, pure-white wings unfurled from behind her, each feather seemingly woven from radiant light. She appeared as though her body had become a golden scale weighing sin itself—on one side, a crystal-clear, flawless white heart; on the other, a perfect and weightless white feather—silently measuring the deepest truths of the soul.
In this form, Nitocris's spiritual foundation drew heavily from Anubis. At this moment, she was both Nitocris and the god Anubis. Only in this state could she invoke to the fullest the Authority of Anubis, God of the Underworld.
“Say your final farewells, Snake of the Festival. My Mirror of the Underworld has already reflected your sins and your death. Your arrogance, your crimes—I shall judge them all… Indeed, in this form, even gods are not beyond my judgment!”
Ripples spread across the surface of the Mirror of the Underworld, clearly reflecting the immense divine form of the Snake of the Festival. In the next instant, the countless shadows of death stored within the mirror seemed to find an outlet, erupting forth as innumerable mournful, ash-colored chains, coiling layer upon layer around the body of the God of Creation, attempting to corrode his divine form.
Simultaneously, the merciless mirror also revealed countless “sins” accumulated by the Snake since his birth—those indirect yet undeniable tragedies and anguished cries arising from indulgence of desire and creation of laws. As the deity governing judgment in the Underworld, Nitocris used these reflections as proof to invoke her Authority of judgment.
In simpler terms, Nitocris had stacked countless debuffs on the Snake of the Festival before the battle even began—the deeper his accumulated sins, the greater the number of debuffs.
Immediately thereafter, infinite “stars” illuminated behind Nitocris, their brilliant radiance instantly dispersing the surrounding void and constructing a vast, seemingly endless sea of starlight.
Yet in this chaotic interstice between worlds, true stars naturally could not exist. Those billions of shining, star-like points of light, upon closer inspection, revealed themselves as ancient divine weapons flowing with dazzling godly radiance.
Spears, swords, axes, staves, wheels, scythes, vajras, arrows… all originating from diverse myths and epics, once wielded by different gods and heroes, each carrying distinct divine Authorities.
Yet at this moment, they all belonged solely to Nitocris, answering only her summons.
The battle between Nitocris and the Snake of the Festival, these two gods, erupted into a devastating storm within the gap between worlds, its lingering shockwaves even reaching into the Crimson Realm and the human world.
The worries Nitocris had before leaving soon became reality. During the previous battle at Seireiden, she had not entirely eradicated all members of Bal Masqué. The few Crimson Denizens who had narrowly escaped turned her near-divine appearance and Authority into frightening rumors, spreading rapidly.
“Pillar of the Present World,” “God of Humanity,” “Ruler of Death,” “Goddess of the Underworld”… These titles, along with her effortless defeat of the Trinity, swept across the globe like a storm, causing unprecedented shockwaves among Crimson Denizens and Flame Hazes alike.
Whether intentionally exaggerated by the remnants or naturally warped by fear and suspicion during dissemination, these rumors deviated further and further from reality. More and more began believing this suddenly emerged “God of Humanity” was itself an immense calamity, certainly plotting something extraordinarily dangerous—
Such as dominating the human world by absolute power, purging all Crimson Denizens and Flame Hazes completely, or even intending to reshape or end the world itself.
Otherwise, how could one explain the long silence and concealment of this god who ruled humanity? Why would she appear precisely at this moment, immediately destroying the largest Crimson Denizen organization, Bal Masqué, with overwhelming force? Even further, why annihilate the legendary Trinity and numerous Denizens with absolute superiority?
Such a manner of arrival seemed less like protection and more a declaration—an unmistakable descent filled with commanding authority and destructive intent. To observers, this was clearly no act of benevolent aid, but a long-planned reckoning finally unleashed.
Most Flame Hazes regarded this suddenly appeared "God of Humanity" with intense suspicion and hostility. They unanimously believed the current human world needed no gods. Besides, if this deity truly sided with humanity, why had she not appeared earlier when they were harmed by Denizens?
Coupled with intelligence spread by fleeing Crimson Denizens, many Flame Hazes associated Authorities related to death and extinction with darkness and misfortune. Nearly all of them became convinced that an existence wielding such a terrifying divine role couldn’t possibly be a lawful, benevolent protector—but instead a malevolent god bringing disaster!
Fortunately, the Flame Hazes were still restrained, merely harboring vigilance and resentment. Some even planned to replicate history, attempting to seal this God of Humanity using forbidden techniques as they had done previously to exile the Snake of the Festival. Such actions were still relatively controlled.
The Crimson Denizens, however, reacted quite differently upon hearing this news.
Driven to extreme terror by thoughts of “reckoning,” some recklessly began accumulating power without regard for consequences, much like hoarding supplies before the apocalypse. Others cast aside all restraint completely, determined to indulge themselves fully before the inevitable end. This hysterical despair propelled them to attack humans at a frequency and scale far surpassing previous incidents, devouring human Power of Existence.
Especially when residual tremors from the battle between Nitocris and the Snake of the Festival occasionally disturbed the human world, these panicked Crimson Denizens misinterpreted the signs as the "God of Humanity" beginning her purge. This misunderstanding further ignited their madness, exacerbating the scale of attacks and drastically increasing the Flame Hazes’ workload.
Yet the frenzy of these Crimson Denizens never drew out the God of Humanity, reinforcing the Flame Hazes’ conviction that this so-called “God of Humanity” was indeed an evil deity intent on destroying the world.
Whether as unexplained thunder or distorted lights and shadows appearing ominously across the human sky—like omens heralding the end of days—this worldwide upheaval, to them, was also attributed to this God of Humanity.
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This is a fan translation of 我才不要当英灵 by 死神的挽歌. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
