The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

#Chapter 319 Crown Prince Alondre (19) - Multiple Phases Long ago, there was a hero. He was a hero who made tremendous efforts. He was a hero who had dedicated his entire life to the world and humanity. And he was a hero who was betrayed by the very things he had protected, as if it were only natural. It was a simple matter. Because the hero was so focused on silently protecting people that he neglected to promote his own achievements. The corrupt royal family, who coveted the hero's achievements, framed him with false charges. They claimed that all the deeds the hero had accomplished were the prince's achievements, and that the hero was a vile person who had stolen credit for them as if they were his own. The hero was dumbfounded, but at the same time thought the royal family had acted foolishly. That was because the story spread by the royal family had far too many holes and contradictions. If one just thought about it a little bit. If one just seriously looked into it a little bit. If one just tried to believe in the hero, even just a little, really just a little. It was the kind of story where one could realize something was strange far too easily. No one did that simple thing. Humans found thinking bothersome. Humans thought the truth didn't matter either way. Humans chose to enjoy the hero's downfall rather than believe in his innocence. The hero cursed. He cursed the companions who had betrayed him and aligned themselves with the royal family. He cursed the city people whom he had once risked his life to save, who claimed to repay past favors yet fed him deadly poison. He cursed, cursed, and cursed again all those who merely turned away or jeered no matter how much the hero appealed his injustice and tried to reveal the truth. The beings called 'humans' that he had protected and devoted himself to his entire life were nothing more than a swarm of garbage insects with no worth whatsoever. That realization led him to transcendence as he was dying at the hands of assassins. The hero killed the assassins. He pulled out the entrails of those who had stabbed him in the belly and trampled them to mush while they were still alive. The hero massacred the royal family. He cursed them so they could not die, pierced them with burning spikes, and made them endlessly confess the truth to the people of the world. The hero slaughtered his former companions. He stuffed their families into their disgusting mouths as they begged for their families' forgiveness. The hero imprisoned the ungrateful citizens. He destroyed all food and means of production, completely isolated the city from the outside, and starved them all to death en masse. That was all the hero could do. One who had reached transcendence could no longer remain in the world. The world did not permit another world to arise within itself. The hero screamed in anguish. There were still far too many targets for his revenge. Kill more, torment more, more, more, more, more! He had to endlessly ravage and trample and take revenge! As a final desperate act, the hero chose to grab hold of the souls of all those he had killed and be cast out together with them. The hero, pushed out of the world, devised methods to torment these souls he held for a very, very long time. O masses who refuse to see the truth. O masses who love to chatter with your mouths. O insect-like garbage who irresponsibly criticize, irresponsibly consume, and irresponsibly turn away. Live forever in falsehood. Live forever in fiction. Be devoured by the fiction you created yourselves, become sacrifices to fiction, transform into fiction itself, and torment other garbage. There is no forgiveness. I expect neither atonement nor repentance. Simply, just, only, suffer eternally. The hero's wish was fulfilled. Because it was a world the hero had created. Because the hero's laws were the world's laws. But it was still insufficient. In the hero's home world, there were still countless others he had not yet taken revenge upon. No, now regardless of whether it was home or not, the human species itself was the target of the hero's revenge. The hero continued to absorb souls. He endlessly kidnapped souls from other worlds and endlessly circulated them within his own world. Through the knowledge of the souls he absorbed, the hero was able to create a world more suited for 'tormenting people' and 'generating fictional stories'. However, even the hero had worries. It was that these burning emotions might someday weather away. So the hero decided to sleep. So that these emotions, this revenge, this hatred would never be diluted. Even if it meant becoming an idiot, he wanted to give eternal despair. The hero, no, the being who had lost the right to be called that long ago, became the 'dreaming god'. But recently, something extremely unpleasant had occurred. In the god's world, within the very being of the god, a foreign substance that directly defied the god's laws had been born. It was such a small and weak insignificant creature, but precisely because of that, he noticed it far too late. The dreaming god realized that at this rate, his precious world would become contaminated. The dreaming god felt deeply regretful. The moment the god, who had become far too large and powerful, stepped forward to catch a single insignificant creature, it was obvious that not only the creature but the entire surrounding nation would evaporate. That would be an unfortunate thing. Once mass slaughter occurred, unless the humans inside the world reproduced again and made space for souls to enter, the souls would continue to remain in standby, spending time without suffering. Most importantly, the god's direct intervention might accidentally destroy the souls inside en masse. Then there would be no way to torment them further. However, despite his regret, the god decided to step forward. Because if he didn't, the contamination would grow larger and more intense. The dreaming god opened his eyes for the first time in ages and prepared to move— "Ugh, seriously. This is why I hate the worlds of those who transcended through revenge-related emotions or ideologies. The whole world itself is dank and stuffy." "Hmm. Mosquitoes are naturally deeply connected to humidity, aren't they? Even if it's a big mosquito, it probably won't be much different." —Soon, he encountered very strange beings. The dreaming god, who had long since lost even the ability to converse with humans, stared at these bizarre intruders. They were small beings. They were quite large compared to the ordinary humans the dreaming god called insignificant creatures, but they were still small beings nonetheless. Transcendence was like that. Even demigods were nothing but pitiful scraps before a true god, and the dreaming god was a being of immense power even among transcendents. The dreaming god tried to lightly crush these two intruders. "Oh my. Is this guy ignoring me right now? Hey, you idiot. Guys like you who are only strong in power but lack control or skill were always the biggest pushovers in front of me. Acting all high and mighty when one soul absorption would drain you all dry." "Considering the scale of power, this is more manageable than expected. The cancerous growth inside him must have been quite critical after all. This is why advance preparation is so important." But they were not crushed. Beings who were not transcendent were handling the transcendent's attacks far too easily. Only then did the dreaming god realize the abnormality of the intruders. One was an oddball who had reached transcendence long ago but escaped transcendent classification by completely emptying that vessel. The other was an oddball who should have become a transcendent long ago but was deliberately preventing transcendence by not completing their own laws. The dreaming god felt alarmed and decided to properly face the two. A long battle ensued. A massive battle ensued. An exhausting battle ensued. The result was a draw. The dreaming god succeeded in driving out the intruders but could not kill them. Furthermore, having exhausted too much power, he missed the timing to remove the foreign substance inside himself. The dreaming god gnashed his teeth. But it wasn't that there was no method. The dreaming god twisted the time axis within his world and split the world apart. A world where time flowed normally. And a future world that the world 'might reach'. A world where the most bothersome foreign substance had disappeared long ago. And thus, a stage where he could torment humans again to his heart's content. If human defeat was confirmed in the future world, the moment that future and past were reconnected, the past would also be treated as 'destined for defeat anyway'. A heroic narrative with a confirmed bad ending could no longer be a spark of rebellion. The dreaming god began to scatter malice once again. *** "Cough! Cough! Ah—seriously. Nearly died there. Fighting a transcendent without transcending yourself is reckless from the start. No matter how good your player skills are, if one side has a level cap locked at 99 and the other has no cap, how is that even a game? Huh?" "Phew. Still, didn't we both survive safely? I never thought we could take down such a transcendent in one go anyway. Multiple phase bosses are meant to be beaten several times." "Want to recover and charge in again? If that guy isn't an idiot, won't he block the path?" "It doesn't matter. I already infiltrated a clone during the battle. Since direct world alteration seems blocked, he apparently played tricks with the time axis, but if they create a narrative that could trouble the dreaming god, that would be absolutely perfect." "Last time we negated 'humans lack the ability to fight against anomalies', right? What are we going to mess with this time?" "Well. I don't know either." "You don't know?" "Communication with the clone has been cut off. It doesn't seem dead at least, but hmm. I'm sure it'll figure something out somehow!" (E/N: That's my demon king Alondre! Fearlessly trying to mess and kill the hero! Wait...) "......."