One Who Devours the Twilight.
In the story’s early to mid-section, they were intended to be the main villains, and they are a large, influential organization comprised of various kinds of crazy bastards.
Even in Labyrinth City, where all kinds of incidents and accidents boil over, they’re among the very worst.
They are zealots who, having devoutly worshiped the Goddess of Love to the point of losing their minds, claim that everything in the world must belong to the Goddess.
They, heretics, view the remnants of Gods and Miracles as the last flicker of civilization… twilight, and see it as their supreme goal to collect and offer it to the Goddess by any means necessary.
I don’t know exactly what kind of incidents they cause, but it’s confirmed that they are the most messed-up group in this world.
While the latter half’s villains should have backstories, isn’t it better to have a despicable bastard to hate without reservation during the early and mid-sections?
One Who Devours the Twilight is exactly that kind.
They shamelessly wrap their countless evils and madness in the name of faith and act high-and-mighty. Even if everyone knows they shouldn’t exist, they’re like cockroaches, scattering and hiding, making extermination extremely difficult.
So if someone asks me what I think about One Who Devours the Twilight, I’ll answer without a moment’s hesitation.
“They’re a bunch of fucking bastards.”
“Huh?”
Karen’s eyes widened in surprise.
“The Goddess said to love the world, to love your neighbors, to love your family, and above all, to love yourself.”
“That’s the final verse in the Regenerations.”
Regenerations is like the Genesis version for the Pan Continent. It teaches the story of a world reborn from ruin.
In the end, the Goddess of Love admonished the people on how they should live in the regenerated world.
“Nowhere does it say to love the Goddess. If you dig through Regenerations or any other scripture, you won’t find such a verse.”
“That’s….”
Karen looked shocked, as if she had heard an unexpected answer. She spoke with a firm tone, driving home her point.
“The Goddess of Love does not beg for love.”
“…!”
One of my most cherished settings is the Goddess of Love. She is the only remaining transcendent being in this world, a survivor of the ancient age, and the master of the Labyrinth.
…And she is supposed to be the final boss.
The Goddess of Love is not an evil being. She’s just weary.
All the gods with whom she could share eternity have died, and the thought of living as a gravekeeper for nearly eternity led her to decide to self-destruct.
However, she remains the only divine being left on the Pan Continent. She couldn’t just leave without taking action. Especially since civilization still relies heavily on the Labyrinth.
Thus, the Goddess of Love decided to create her successor. And what better stage than the Labyrinth?
A graveyard where countless monsters and lost miracles lie asleep. And adventurers who are gradually growing.
If she could pass her divine essence to such a person, they would be just enough to reach demigod status. If that person were to take her divine status and grant her rest, the world could keep running smoothly.
For that reason, at the very core of the Labyrinth, at the end of one era and the beginning of a new one, the Goddess fervently prays for someone to be her death.
Of course, the protagonist refuses the Goddess’s final wish. Yet the Goddess, unable to give up, attacks the protagonist in hopes of dying at their hands, leading to the final battle.
…Even though I have set her up as such an important character, I can’t say for certain that the Goddess of Love will be precisely as I envisioned.
Well, after all, she’s not an ordinary person; she’s a god.
Even though I can’t be sure if the goddess will look as I imagined, I can confirm that the doctrines in the temple are just as I had conceived.
Thanks to that, I can confidently say this.
The Goddess of Love is an immortal who lives for eternity. Her way of loving is not about receiving; it’s about giving love.
Even if, as the world changes, the number of her followers dwindles compared to increasing unbelievers, that doesn’t matter.
She will still love the world and the people.
Unchanging love is a phrase meant only for the Goddess of Love.
…That’s why One Who Devours the Twilight is the true villain.
“Do you know what to call someone who talks about the price of a love the Goddess does not desire, while destroying the things she loves? Well, I call them ungrateful fucking bastards.”
“Hah! That’s a wonderful expression. I’ve learned something new.”
Karen’s tired expression vanished as she laughed joyfully. Ian looked dumbfounded, while Ellie and Lydia appeared troubled.
Was my blunt statement that shocking? From now on, I should probably watch my language in front of those two.
After all, there was someone on Earth who said that when a woman curses, it’s a bit of a turn-off. Maybe Ellie and Lydia are that type too.
“Jonah. Your sincerity has reached me. I will stop my unfounded suspicions… but I have one question, if that’s alright?”
“Go ahead.”
“My disdain for One Who Devours the Twilight was genuine and unwavering. However, I noticed a faint yet contradictory emotion within you.”
“Is that a thing people can even see?”
“Yes. It’s a very unique case, so while I do not doubt your feelings, I must ask, for the sake of future understanding… what emotions do you hold that allow for such complexity?”
“Oh, it’s nothing special.”
Saying that, I put on a wry smile and spread my arms wide, as if to say, ‘Look at me closely.’
“I basically love everything in this world.”
“What?”
I continued with sincerity, right in front of Karen, whose eyes widened.
“The towering monument of Pangrave. The magic and aura. The filthy adventurers who appear one by one as the sun sets. The pieces of monsters in their hands. The ignorant slum dwellers. The orphaned kids with nowhere to go. The male prostitutes dressed in scanty clothes that attract female adventurers. The worship sounds of the temple. The shabby wooden buildings. The Mage Tower crafted with the latest magical engineering materials. The sounds of clanging hammers echoing from blacksmith alleys. The one-armed former adventurer. The current adventurer dreaming to be a knight… And even the inquisitor, who’s full of curiosity.”
“….”
Maybe she was overwhelmed by my words. Or perhaps something she saw in her vision held her in thrall. Karen stared at me with an open mouth, looking dazed.
“I love everything in this world.”
Well, of course, this is my world.
“Even if it’s a childish, naive emotion.”
It’s a world filled with the things I cherish.
“Even if it’s an irredeemable zealot.”
Living with this body is indeed tough and exhausting.
“Or even if it’s an enemy I could never forgive.”
Sometimes my life might be in danger.
“I love everything in this world.”
But I can’t help but love it.
After all, I’m a writer, and this is the world of the novel I used to write.
It’s agape, it’s philia, and it’s also eros.
It’s a kind of love that I find hard to define, but fits reasonably well with whatever label you stick on it.
That’s the emotion I hold toward this world.
“How about that? Is that answer satisfactory?”
“…….”
Karen had no response. It was more accurate to say she didn’t have the leisure to do so.
Her wide-open eyes were directed at me, but they were unfocused, as if she were seeing something else.
And in her gaze, pink sparks burst forth continuously.
Karen, frozen in place, unable to close her eyes, shut her mouth, or move from her spot, finally began to shed tears, quietly kneeling and clasping her hands together.
“O Goddess….”
“I’m not the Goddess! I’m a man!”
“I now accept your words.”
“Are you really crying right now… at this age?!”
The flustered Karen suddenly radiated a bright light from her body.
Like petals blown away, a gentle pink hue. Just seeing it made me feel calm and relaxed.
This kind of color brings only one kind of effect. The divine power of the Goddess of Love.
In what seemed like a prophetic moment, Karen was suddenly surrounded by immense divine power. With an expression filled with religious ecstasy, she continued to pray to the Goddess.
Wait, why is she suddenly having her awakening alone…?
How long did I sit there, helplessly watching as she struggled to contain all that divine power pouring out like a broken faucet?
Finally, having gathered all the divine power that was flowing uncontrollably, Karen slowly stood up.
Her dark circles had shrunk to half their original size, giving her a more human-like appearance as she spoke.
“Jonah, you truly should become a priest.”
“I’d rather not.”
Evangelism. What a hassle.
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