Chapter 113: The Sacred...

The two Giants of Light descended like gods, wreaking havoc across that city of sin.

If Yukiyuki were fortunate enough to witness this scene, he would surely sigh and think, Kagura was right... yet also wrong.

Kagura once said that the Giants of Light lacked self-awareness and thus posed the greatest threat in the universe.

In truth, that was indeed the case.

The Ultraman race was undeniably the universe’s greatest threat. Their lifespans stretched unimaginably long, their numbers vast, and their individual combat power immense. The strength of just the members of the Universal Guard alone could destroy this universe countless times over.

Yet at the same time, these giants possessed self-awareness—far too much of it, in fact.

The Giants of Light were acutely aware that their race's power far exceeded the universe's average, with a chasm separating them from the second strongest—an uncatchable lead. Their tremendous strength meant that if they ever turned their power to destruction, the disaster that would follow would be beyond imagination.

Looking back now, one realizes that the upper echelons of the Land of Light exercised an almost unimaginable control over their billions of subjects. Citizens of the Land of Light would not leave Ultraman Star at will, even though each could fly and traverse the cosmos with ease.

Over all these years, those who escaped such control could be counted on one hand.

Doesn't that strike as peculiar?

Why has no one noticed this anomaly?

Imagine everyone living on Earth, and suddenly one nation’s populace evolved into gods—gods on average, turning their country into a divine realm on Earth. Wouldn’t that be terrifying? Other nations would likely pack up and flee immediately. Even if those gods promised not to use their power for conquest, who would believe them? What if they broke their oaths? Who could possibly restrain them?

Yet, 270,000 years have passed, and these gods have almost flawlessly restrained themselves. Even when a few from the Land of Light broke free of these constraints, they were generally dealt with internally—naturally, only by their own kind. Ordinary beings of the universe could only offer some auxiliary support; they were powerless on the front lines.

But out of hundreds of billions of people, only a handful became troublemakers. The ratio was so minuscule it was almost negligible—doesn’t that seem strange?

Perhaps Toregia’s rebellion from Belial began with a faint, flickering insight—a glimpse that allowed him to break free from this overwhelming restraint. Then, in a state of disarray and panic, he fled the Land of Light.

And what was this restraint, if it really existed?

Yukiyuki viewed the matter with a god’s perspective, able to objectively examine this strange phenomenon.

His first thought was—could it be something like the “Kāla” link used by the Protoss in StarCraft?

Come to think of it, the Land of Light’s national system bore a curious resemblance to that of the Protoss.

Executives corresponded to the council class.

Temple Knights who defended their race were akin to the Universal Guard warriors.

Builders like Karé represented the rest of the Land of Light’s citizens—they were the nation’s architects.

And the Dark Temple Knights corresponded to those warriors who defected from the Land of Light.

But what exactly was this “Kāla”?

Essentially, it was a bond.

A mental link established among the individuals of a race, allowing those connected to share each other’s positive emotions while consciously resisting negative feelings, ultimately fostering a collective spirit of progress and positivity throughout the entire race.

Yet this bond was not flawless. Its risk lay in the fact that those connected to the Kāla would, to some degree, lose their individual selves. Your joy might not originate from you alone; your pain would be diluted nearly beyond perception.

You were no longer yourself—you were merely a node in the collective.

Of course, some Protoss resisted this transformation, refusing to connect to the Kāla and severing themselves from this mental bond. They became the Dark Temple Knights.

This was only the individual risk of Kāla. When applied to an entire race, its flaws magnified. Should mental pollution, corrupted thoughts, or malevolent wills infiltrate this link, the spread would be rapid and catastrophic. Perhaps in an instant, the entire Land of Light could be wiped out.

When such disasters occurred, it was the Dark Temple Knights—those who had severed their links—who would step up as the final firewall.

Whenever Yukiyuki contemplated this, he could not help but wonder: is it truly wise to place all citizens within a network of collective will?

Does the Land of Light have a similar Kāla bond? Since they have Temple Knights as Universal Guard members, do they also have Dark Temple Knights as their firewall?

Perhaps yes, perhaps no.

At the time, Yukiyuki thought that if given the chance, he would ask the captain—not for any other reason, but simply out of curiosity.

Yet these thoughts vanished as the chaotic scene before him began to sharpen—

The destination of the teleportation had been reached.

Crossing nearly three million light-years, even the “gate” could not achieve instantaneous transport, taking over twenty seconds instead.

Yukiyuki had wondered where he might land if he used the channel embedded in the bracelet given to him by the captain.

He thought he would appear atop a building.

After all, Seven had installed the three crystals corresponding to Zero’s wrist device on a rooftop.

But in reality, he materialized on a flat surface.

Well, not quite flat. The moment he touched down, the floor—formerly as smooth as a mirror—shattered into fragments, letting out a series of earth-shattering cracks.

Yukiyuki: “...”

He looked down and confirmed that the epicenter of the fissures was directly beneath his feet. The ground had sunk nearly a meter, with the longest crack extending over a hundred meters.

It seemed he was indeed the cause of this destruction... No one else was around; it had to be him.

Yukiyuki was puzzled. Previously, his landings had been silent—why this time did he cause destruction reminiscent of Gaia's arrival, surely enough to raise the blood pressure of the Bureau of Road Administration?

Upon closer inspection, beneath the translucent floor lay three square crystals arranged side by side. Earlier, these crystals had been nearly invisible, and Yukiyuki hadn’t noticed them. Now, the once-transparent crystals were turning blue visibly to the naked eye.

Only then did he realize that his landing spot was precisely at the center of these three crystals—and he had crushed the middle crystal into dust.

Yukiyuki: “...”

This isn’t his fault, surely. This must be an act of unavoidable force.