Another World: My life is on the hook!

And all of this—the establishment of this faith, this oppressive authoritarianism—was all built with her tacit approval, tools in her hands to bring back the king.

A long prison sentence.

Endless loneliness.

In that godless despair, he witnessed the establishment of the Great Purge mechanism and the construction of that hell.

In the Crystal Garden of the divine realm, all the deities reborn in the mortal world were taken in one by one. Those who tried to change the world by relying on the power of their deities were also extinguished and killed one by one in this harsh winter.

Without divinity, it is tantamount to severing the last spark of resistance that mortal beings might have.

But he was eventually released.

After those long years, the girl appeared in the cell where he was imprisoned. She was now as calm as a rock, and she was no longer the girl that the Great King remembered.

She gave him his freedom.

Because he was the only one among countless ravens to have developed his own will and had his own life.

She won't kill him.

Because he was the last legacy left by her husband.

"He loves you."

When he emerged from his cage in rags and saw the light of day again, he whispered to the girl behind him.

"But the worst thing he ever did was leave the new world to you. It was the worst decision he ever made in his life."

The pale blue girl calmly watched his retreating figure.

“I don’t care,”

She turned around and walked away from him at a distance, as if they were strangers.

"All I want is for him to come back."

……

And it was after that day that he finally regained his freedom once again. He resumed his identity as the Raven, gazing at this world that had long since become unrecognizable.

The oppressive rule over the entire universe was finally lifted, but only because they discovered that this forcibly imposed faith could not rouse their Great Sovereign.

Direct rule is gone.

But they have merely moved behind the scenes, to that higher dimension, to that rebuilt divine realm, to look down indifferently upon the changes of this mortal world.

The god of the past is gone.

But then a group of people who rebelled against the gods appeared in the divine realm.

Ravens were once again given that new mission, and they were finally able to soar among civilizations as they had at the beginning. But they no longer needed to lead the revolution against tyranny, because they had drawn an absolute red line over the heads of all mortals.

The red line went even lower.

Demigods will gradually become history, all divine status will be reclaimed, and all paths to godhood will be completely blocked.

And this.

Wouldn't it be more efficient?

If even becoming a god is impossible, if even becoming a demigod is the limit of one's full strength, then wouldn't that eternal winter cease to exist?

But only he knew.

This winter has almost become eternal.

He rejoined the flock of ravens, and for a time he was disoriented and unable to move, because everyone was watching him—those hostile gazes, those scrutinizing looks, those angry looks, because none of the jailers wanted to believe or hope that ravens could have their own will, because in their eyes, that in itself meant a desecration.

But some jailers and Violet's old followers still wanted to see him. They preferred to believe that he was their Lord's manifestation in the mortal realm rather than believe that their Lord would never return.

But each time he would calmly tell them.

“My name is not Lynn.”

"I am not Lord Violet."

"This face isn't mine either."

I am just a raven.

It was the raven he released before the new world was established, and he was supposed to arrive before one cold winter after another, and leave before the arrival of spring.

I will rebel against... all winters.

In the long years that followed, he seemed to disappear into obscurity once again, continuing to do all the things that ravens should do, guiding and building one civilization after another, sowing the seeds of life in one barbaric world after another. And it seemed that he had finally returned to the collective, just as the rebellion of the past had become a distant memory.

One after another, huge falls.

Each predetermined harvest.

I have witnessed countless painful cries, and all the wailing and madness.

Watching that indiscriminate blade relentlessly drag one after another of those who had finally reached that position into this sinful hell, it was as if they were endowed with original sin the moment they stepped into that position.

Whether you are good or bad, whether you are pursuing power or establishing rule, whether you are protecting the people or invading others.

Once you get to that position...

Then go to hell.

Thus, the former high pressure turned into complete indulgence. In this dark starry sky, every harvest at the end of an era signifies a gluttonous revenge and the outbreak of war. Those civilizations that have lost their protection, those races that have lost their backbone, and those old hatreds and ambitions will be completely ignited and vented at this moment.

Many ambitious civilizations will forcibly stay within the limits of that harvest, preventing their own civilization from producing stronger beings, and instead continuously strengthening the power of their group, so that at the end of the era they can carry out the cleansing and domination of other civilizations.

So what exactly is good and what is bad?

So what exactly is power? What exactly is divinity? And how can perfection be achieved?

And finally.

They got an answer once again.

Let's restart then.

If each and every era inevitably descends into the chaos and darkness of war, then in the darkest hour, let all of this be annihilated, allowing new sparks to rise again from these old wastelands, and letting these newborn beings embark on a new era.

Use destruction to correct.

That raven witnessed all the changes and the arrival of one mechanism after another.

How ironic it is when you watch the civilization you once guided and built turn into burning ashes at the end of an era.

Later on, people even ridiculously forgot about the history.

They only remember the era in which they lived.

They know nothing about the past.

And those ancient roots that were dragged into hell have become the only proof that those eras once existed.

"It won't be long."

When he found the roots of the old era who had once received his guidance and grace in that hell of suffering, he bowed his head and made a promise to them.

“The past is gone, and I have waited for countless years. I have failed all living beings.”

If no one in this world can resist anymore.

"If they turn their backs, then let us take their place!"

"Let's fight our way out and carve out a place for ourselves!"

That day, when he looked up at the dark, billowing sky, his eyes were filled with a deep-seated hatred and determination.

……