# Chapter 57: The Strong and the Weak
The weak have no reason to exist.
The history of civilization is the process of the strong continuously defeating the weak.
Beneath the glow of an ancient yellowish-brown star, there was a dark red celestial body. It had dim daylight, a frigid atmosphere, and rugged, ever-changing bizarre terrain. According to the common sense of ordinary life, this iron-rich land and atmosphere should never have been able to nurture any life. It was so barren and uninteresting that even if spaceships from other advanced civilizations passed by, they would likely be too lazy to explore it even once.
However, in this nearly cruel dead world, something like a miracle was born. In the high-temperature hot springs of deep valley basins, the initial seeds of life sprouted alongside vigorous magical energy movements. Accompanied by the 'deep magic layer' that gradually enveloped the world due to geological activity, primitive life spread across the entire planet. Over tens of millions of years of intense evolution, countless generations of primitive life gave rise to a race as tough as iron.
They were born among mountain caves and lived in winding, deep caverns. This race resembled snails in form, but their bodies were harder than rock, and the shells on their backs were comparable to steel. This heavy shell was certainly a burden, but it ensured the safety of the group. Proudly, they named themselves Amos, which in their ancient language meant 'burden bearers.'
As time turned, their race flourished and grew, their civilization became increasingly prosperous. From the ancient Paleolithic era to the Mana Industrial Age where the path of transcendence flourished, the Amos people gradually occupied the entire world. They exterminated the Titan Monitor Lizards, who were also intelligent life, defeated the primordial beast hordes that once coexisted with them on the land, drove away the Mountain-Coiling Centipedes, and pushed the many Metal Beasts that would destroy their mountain cities into ecological protection zones. The Amos people successfully changed the entire world, transformed their own civilization, and made the entire planet the territory of the Amos people.
But there was one thing the Amos people could never change.
That was the burden carried on the shoulders of all intelligent life.
Weakness.
The original sin of weakness.
That was the newborn infant, naturally deformed, thrown into the lava pool during the Paleolithic era.
That was the ancient tribe, driven from their homeland during the Neolithic era because their tools were not advanced enough.
That was the backward tribe, annihilated during the era of primitive great tribes because they had not mastered elemental magic.
They were ever-changing, they were numerous. They were the children with shells not hard enough, despised and discriminated against, bullied and huddled in corners crying; they were the ones who, despite giving their all, could not learn magic, eliminated by society, forced to do the most primitive manual labor as bitter workers; they were the ones born poor, without resources to learn, without opportunities to change their fate, with no future to speak of, forgotten by society in the corners, the 'untouchables' who were 'not even worthy of paying taxes.'
They were the weak.
Various reasons, various causes and effects. Since the beginning of life in this world, there has been an inherent distinction between strong and weak. Large cells devour small cells. Those with hard shells shatter those with fragile shells. Those who use tools enslave those who do not. Those who use magic bully those who cannot.
Nobles exploit slaves and farmers, using the resources of entire territories to support themselves and their next generation, and then let the next generation, who are just as strong or even stronger, continue to exploit the next generation of slaves and farmers. Kings rule nations, royal families gather the power of the kingdom to cultivate the strong, perpetuating their rule for hundreds or thousands of years. The order of successive cycles is like a solid iron hammer, pounding the entire world, shaping morality, logic, and beliefs into completely different forms.
The strong oppress the weak, the strong defeat the weak. The weak are unwilling, the weak are angry. But what can be done about it? Can tears bring down the castles of the nobles? Can roars shatter the palaces of kings? In a transcendent civilization, where the gap in power between individuals cannot be measured by reason, order is like this. For countless years, the strong have relied on devouring the flesh and blood of the weak to maintain their rule, to have enough time and resources to deduce one realm of transcendent power after another.
Precisely because of this, civilization progresses.
**[Weakness is a crime]**
A king sat atop the peak of the mountain nation he ruled, overlooking his vast empire. His powerful magic swept across the entire country — he was the first person in the history of Amos civilization whose transcendent power had reached such a level. He was an unprecedented genius, the highest masterpiece of bloodline inheritance, and also the first person who, through transcendent power, could feel the pain of all the weak and empathetically understand this sorrow.
**[The weak bear original sin]**
Civilization had stagnated. The overly primitive method of resource accumulation was no longer sufficient for Amos transcendents to reach the next realm. Because the lower-level Amos people had been exploited and tortured for countless years, they and the upper-level Amos people had almost become two different races. The race called 'Lower Amos People' had almost no magical talent, were small in stature, had fragile shells, could not withstand high temperatures and high pressure, and could not spend long periods in deep mining areas excavating magic crystals to supply the 'Upper Amos People' for cultivation. The Upper Amos People, on the other hand, were physically robust, their shells made of hereditary bloodline alloys, their powerful magic enough to reshape terrain. They could swim in volcanoes and roam in lava, but they never engaged in production, spending their entire lives only pursuing strength.
**[Everything is the fault of the weak]**
It was all because the weak were simply too weak, completely unable to meet the ever-growing demands of the strong, thus causing the stagnation of civilization. By this time, the weak had become a malignant tumor on the body of Amos civilization, the root cause preventing progress. In the dawn of this new era, the mere existence of the weak, lowly Lower Amos People was a waste of resources. Their value was even negative. These lives that struggled painfully, that clung to existence with difficulty, even their will to live was a complete and utter mistake.
**[The weak have no reason to exist]**
The king felt the suffering of the weak. The king felt the weakness of the weak. The king felt their hardship, their pain. They struggled to live but did not know the meaning of tomorrow. They existed in pain but did not know where the future lay — they could not even understand what the words 'tomorrow' and 'future' meant. They could not even comprehend that they and the nobles were the same race.
But unlike the other Upper Amos nobles who viewed the Lower Amos people as tools, slaves, or numbers, the king, born inherently as a strong one, pitied them. The king condescended to meet them face to face. He made a promise to the weak: they could make one wish.
And facing the generous king, the weak one who was asked, that nameless Lower Amos person, in a numb, fanatical, pained, and humble tone, said to the lofty king whose face showed pity, with immense relief:
"Let me die."
And so the weak died.
This was the salvation the Lower Amos people prayed for.
So that's how it was — they endured such suffering. So that's how it was — they did not desire life at all.
From that day on, the king understood the truth. And precisely because of this, an emperor was born here.
**[Yes — since the weak will suffer.]**
Then let the weak be gently killed before they gain consciousness, before they know their own weakness, before they grow in reality and experience endless pain. Erase it all before the embryo becomes life, before life gains wisdom, before wisdom forms self-awareness.
The darkness and suffering of the future will be a thousand, a hundred times greater than the present. Facing the void, facing other civilizations, facing the World Devourers that annihilate worlds, in the presence of these beings, the pain of the weak is so pitiful — so cast it all away. Cast away all of it: responsibility, glory, and suffering, as well as the right to exist and the future. Hand everything over to the strong —
Leave only the geniuses, leave only the strong. Erase all malignant tumors called weakness. Let the strong supply themselves, let the strong grow themselves, let the strong cast aside all burdensome support systems, becoming their own civilization. In this way, our civilization will surely prosper and grow strong.
And moreover, we will not build any achievement, any glory, upon the 'pain of the weak.' Our civilization is pure, noble, glorious, and complete.
Because all sin, all pain, had already ended at the very beginning of birth.
"We cut away weaknesses, we transform our bodies, we swallow poisons, we reshape our thoughts, we spit on gods and faith, we impale our own pope on iron spikes and burn him alive, we detonate mana fission bombs on our own planet — all to ensure that not a single trace of the weak has any possibility of survival."
"We are the Amos people — the chosen burden bearers. We carry shells, we carry hills, we carry mountains, we carry planets. Our emperor carries star rivers as he marches forward. We laugh as we devour the flesh and blood of the weak, taking their suffering from their hands. All glory and responsibility — we will fight in this dark multiverse until the very last moment, eradicating all sorrow and pain belonging to the weak from every single star!"
The twisted will coalesced into a vast collective. The pitch-black conviction crossed the star river and arrived.
No one felt this terrifying fluctuation. No one could know that this tide, existing only at the source of information, spread only within the 'Flame.'
Indeed. Humans could not perceive it.
This oscillation between the flames of civilization, this pure 'Spirit' oscillation, perhaps only the collective will representing 'civilization itself' could slightly perceive it, perceive this information traversing the endless darkness.
But humans could not. Gods could.
— Lost Star River, Mycroft Star Domain. Behind the massive star gate, inside the Myriad Realms Sacrificial Ground, in the laboratory buried deep underground, the golden divine power cocoon trembled, shaking with fury.
The deity slumbering within the 'First Flame,' within the 'Infinite Great Source,' opened their eyes when the pitch-black night was illuminated by the light of a spatial rift.
At the break of dawn — the 'God' of Justice and Might awakened.