The Story of "Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf"; The Successor

A crimson killing machine descended from the heavens, plunging into the boundless sea of frenzied zombies. The king roared, the king slaughtered—the last Scarlet Queen pulverized every walking corpse in sight. Until even the final shriek dissolved into dead silence. As the tides of madness receded slightly from her mind, the world had already overturned, everything within sight shattered to pieces. Everything she had sworn to defend with her life had turned into mountains of corpses and seas of blood. The red hood was no more, her red garments replaced by raw, scarlet flesh. The monster, her lower half fused with a metallic wheelchair, stood atop the ruins with bewilderment in her eyes. Only then did she finally realize in a daze— When the world reached the ultimate silence, an echo would truly remain. A solitary echo drifted from all directions: *Tap—* Only the Wolf Knight, his armor shattered and lance broken, still silently guarded the Queen. The crimson cloak had been torn to shreds, tied carefully around the knight like a scarf. The setting sun was like blood; broken walls and rubble lay everywhere. From the unseen depths, a grand divine voice resonated as if descending from beyond the heavens: "Come with me." At first, the voice sounded far away, yet soon it seemed to be everywhere. Golden light shone in tens of thousands of rays. A golden throne emerged on the horizon, and seated upon it was the God of War. Gilded battle armor gleamed resplendently amidst the boundless bloodstains of the earth. The deity's projection fell before her. The monster once known as the Scarlet Queen now sat silently atop the ruins and the mountain of corpses, staring blankly as though lost in a memory. Withered fingers rested upon the rim of the wheelchair, clutching futilely at the air as if trying to grasp something, yet in the end catching nothing at all. "Come with me," the god's voice clanged powerfully, like the striking of iron and bronze: "'Wisdom' held you back; you were born to be a disciple of war." "Your defeat was through no fault of arms. Come under my banner, enter my divine realm, and you shall reclaim the authority of War." "In time, you will have the chance to trample your foes and exact—" "Your revenge against Rome!" The mighty voice echoed in all directions. The god had extended an olive branch. An opportunity countless mortals could only dream of lay right before her eyes. And yet. "Revenge?" The figure in the wheelchair did not budge an inch. When the wind blew past, the blood-red aura above her head cast down crimson light, resembling a shy young girl lowering her head and using her little red hood to veil her face. "I'm tired..." She said only this. Yet both the Wolf Knight behind his visor and the god seemed to recall something, visibly moved. The Queen was truly exhausted. After all, she had never wanted to become king. Had it not been for the unanimous pleas of her people, she would have remained a Holy Maiden in the temple, detached from worldly affairs. Since childhood, she had been a little girl who could do nothing right, able only to rely on her older brother. Even though she had forced herself to inherit the throne, forced herself to bear the weight of the entire world alone, in the end she had still ruined everything... Indeed, she was not a qualified king. Yet she had truly tried her hardest, standing before her people until the very end. So, as for revenge or anything of the sort— "I can't do anything." In a daze, that weak little girl seemed to have returned. "However, you are already dead," the god spoke again: "The authority of War has destroyed your life force." "The civilization of this realm will soon be extinguished, and all things will perish together. Forcing yourself to sustain the world's core is merely delaying the final bell toll." "If you continue to remain here, you will only fade into oblivion alongside this world." "I know." "Still... I don't want to go anywhere anymore." Slowly lifting her head, the wheelchair turned. The Queen left the god with only the straight line of her back, like a withered leaf butterfly struggling even as it was about to wither away. The wheelchair rolled slowly toward the Sun Temple, rather than toward the palace that was always accompanied by nightmares. "Then you—" The god looked toward the Wolf Knight, only to fall silent. In that Wolf Knight's eyes, there seemed never to have been any god. Even if the world were destroyed, civilization overturned, and gods descended... this forever silent Wolf Knight had eyes only for the sovereign he had sworn fealty to protect. And so, the god departed. Upon the vast ruins of civilization, utter silence fell, leaving behind only two dying souls clinging to their last breaths. Or rather— they were souls already dead, who had yet to depart. *Screech!* A harsh screech of scraping metal rang out. The scarlet monster halted the ferocious metal limbs of her wheelchair, stopping before the Sun Temple. This was the place where she had come from, and her only "home." The tightly locked temple could not bar its master. As the two stepped inside, it locked shut once more. Behind the temple lay a desolate courtyard. In her memories, a clear spring had once flowed here. A little girl in a red dress and red hood had always washed the plain white robes of an apprentice Holy Maiden by its side; over there, a field of flowers should have bloomed. Little Red Riding Hood would pluck the most dazzling blossoms to tuck behind her ear, clumsily mimicking the poise of a noble lady before the former Holy Maiden she called Grandmother. Here, there, over this way, and— and the small potted plant she had secretly sown beside the square of the grand sacrificial rites. People had all said it was a seed very difficult to nurture, yet Little Red Riding Hood felt it was just like her. Once it grew, the tree would blaze with a color as vivid as fire. And so, on the eve of her coming-of-age ceremony, the maiden, brimming with hope for the future, had buried the seed in the pot. Yet now, that place too was buried under rubble. When the Wolf Knight silently cleared away the debris, the scarlet monster suddenly froze. "This is..." Amidst the wild weeds of the ruins, upon the shattered flowerpot, a seed had sprouted vigorously, stubbornly growing into a sapling. A bright red sapling, branching out like bared flames. The monster reached out a withered hand, brushing through the empty air, carefully touching the sapling's tender shoot as though terrified of puncturing it. At this moment, she felt as though she had returned to the eve of that coming-of-age ceremony, recapturing that carefree spring when the little girl could rely on everyone around her. Back then, she had not been disfigured, had not been crippled, and still had an older brother and a grandmother— Just then, *Rumble—* The terminally stricken Trojan horse was on the verge of disintegration. The world entered its final chapter. Only now did the true collapse of the heavens arrive. As the world's core, Sky City beneath their feet began to flip. Natural laws seemed to shatter—the sky was now below, and the earth was above. Countless corpses tumbled down like rain, and endless buildings plunged into the abyss. This Sky City, suspended amidst the clouds and bearing the final sparks of civilization, was now plummeting toward the earth that had become a purgatory, dragged down by an irresistible gravity! Once the city crashed completely onto the wasteland and its core shattered, the wooden horse would entirely disintegrate, and the world would be pulverized until not even dust remained. Not even ruins would be left behind. No one would ever remember that a civilization named "Troy" had once existed in this world. "I... will not allow it!" Even those who had died deserved to be remembered. Even a dead world deserved to retain its former countenance. —And even a fallen king could still shoulder this world! The Iron Throne transformed into a new wheelchair, fusing with the monster's flesh and blood. The scarlet monster roared toward the heavens, straightening her hunched back. She flew fiercely out of the temple, arriving beyond the boundaries of the city. Facing the falling city and the inverted temple, she defiantly spread her mutated, withered arms— *Boom!!* The weight of an entire world, the weight of an entire civilization, crashed instantly onto her arms, her spine, and every inch of her agonized frame that had long been eroded by the virus. Her spine bent completely, grotesque veins bulged across the arms supporting the world, and even the blood-red halo above her head let out a wail as though fracturing. The Iron Throne beneath her unleashed a blinding silver glare, conducting and dispersing the unimaginable pressure in all directions; beneath the skin eroded by the virus, viral crystals proliferated, ruptured, and regenerated at an unprecedented speed. Raging flames burned within the girl's eyes, carrying her final madness and resolve. Yet the posture of her hands holding the weight aloft did not waver in the slightest. The inverted civilization was shouldered upon her spine! The inverted world was held aloft by this colossal monster! The collapsing civilization, careening like a runaway horse, was forcefully dragged back from the brink! This scene seemed like a myth stepping into reality, yet the being accomplishing this miracle was neither a deity nor even a legendary hero. It was merely a young girl who had turned into a monster. Merely a dead soul. *Rumble...* When bearing the immense weight became pure inertia, the girl's final consciousness finally dissolved. Only the dead shell remained, continuing to shoulder everything, preserving the final shred of dignity so that this dying civilization would not shatter. *Useless as I am...* *At least there was still one thing I could do, right?* In the final moments before her consciousness vanished, the virus, despair, crushing weight—bearing untold suffering, the girl held only this simple thought. Amidst countless regrets, she finally felt a touch of solace. Holding this thought in her dying moments, she forever lost the spark of life in her eyes. Plunging eternally into darkness! "..." Then, as though obeying some instinct, the girl's muddled corpse began to sing a nursery rhyme. An ethereal voice, like that of an oriole, completely mismatched with the monster's hideous frame, was the original voice of that little red-hooded girl: She sang: *"Little basket, sway and swing,* *To the hillside, berries to bring.* *Leave the roadside roses alone, or in a wooden box you'll lie.* *Strawberries stain the fingertips red, dew soaks the little leather shoes where I tread.* *...* *"Under the sunset, coming home, hearth smoke curls round roof and dome.* *Moss stains the stone steps low, Granny calls me soft and slow.* *—Soft and slow..."* The singing was ethereal and crisp. Though the lyrics and melody were cheerful and warm, the song carried a heavy, unshakeable sorrow. She was clearly a miraculous queen locked in a desperate struggle against the world, yet in this nursery rhyme, there were no heroes, no royal authority, and no sacrifice. There were only strawberries on the hillside, dew upon the blossoms, smoke curling above rooftops, and an older brother and grandmother waiting on the stone steps for her return. —This was the nursery rhyme the red-hooded girl had once sung long, long ago on the hillsides of her homeland. Back then, Little Red Riding Hood was not alone; her brother was still by her side. In truth, the Scarlet Queen singing the nursery rhyme after death was not reminiscing about anything. Perhaps she was merely summoning souls. Summoning the ordinary afternoons she had lost forever, summoning this dead world, summoning all the subjects of Trojan civilization who had trusted in her as their "King" until their dying breaths. From then on, the soul-summoning melody echoed eternally in this hollow world of death, futilely calling for a spring of civilization that would never return. Standing in the sacrificial square of the Sun Temple at the very center of the city, one could look up through the circular skylight and see the silhouette of the monster holding up the world. One of its hands happened to grip the skylight of the temple tightly. Looking up through the murky light of the sky, watching the monster through the skylight as it shifted between confusion and agony, the Wolf Knight gazed upward, and two streams of bloody tears suddenly coursed from his eyes. "You aren't someone who can't do anything." "You did so well." "Truly wonderfully... little sister." "—You are the true King!" Toward the monster that had completely lost all thought, the Wolf Knight called out in a low, futile voice. Yes. The true protagonist concealed within this story, the attendant recounting the tale, the mysterious Wolf Knight who eternally guarded the "King"... was Little Red Riding Hood's older brother. It was he who had abandoned his throne, casting all responsibility onto his sister's tender shoulders. It was he who had pursued heretical power only to suffer utter defeat, clinging to ideals of salvation only to plunge back into a cycle of despair. In the end, he could only remain in this twisted form, disguised as a Wolf Knight—powerless and humble, silent and futile, accompanying the red-hooded girl whom he had personally pushed toward her ruinous end! He was the world's greatest coward! An elder brother who deserved to be sliced into a thousand pieces! An unqualified prince! A spineless deserter! The shame of civilization! The most incompetent, useless knight under heaven! At the same time... he was also the first casualty of Sky City, having died in battle long before the girl met her end. Guarding before everyone else, the king's figure stood at the very fore of all subjects. And he had been the first blade, positioned even ahead of the king. Everything that followed had been driven by the power of "heresy" and the undying flame of obsession in his chest, allowing this walking corpse to fight on until now. Perhaps such a sacrifice was, to him, a negligible form of atonement that brought him a measure of peace. If there was a single regret, it was perhaps that... until the moment the girl sacrificed herself and lost all consciousness to sink into oblivion, she never knew that the brother she had searched for all along had been standing by her side from beginning to end— Of course, though it was a regret, even if he were to live it again, he still would not let her know. He knew he was unworthy. Thus, it was no wonder— though these were the memories of the Wolf Knight, the protagonist of the story had nothing to do with him. This was the complete story of "Little Red Riding Hood and the Wolf." Both its beginning and its end were irresistible tragedies. Yet their tragedy was born not of individuals, but of the tragedy of a civilization. It was predestined, the unstoppable trend of the world, making any struggle ultimately futile. Yet the struggles of these monarchs, these individuals, and the brilliance of heroes allowed this doomed civilization to leave behind its unique splendor and warmth in the book of destiny on the eve of its demise. As for Rome—that terrifying name within Troy— it was perhaps the ultimate source of all these tragedies. And so, at the end of the story—that world's greatest coward and deserter fled no more and gave up no longer. He chose to undergo modification by the temple, fusing flesh and machinery, forever forfeiting all sanity to become a part of the temple's artificial intelligence. He would either perish alongside this terminal civilization, or cling to an ethereal hope that, someday, he might find a successor for his civilization. A successor to inherit everything of this civilization, to inherit everything of his own, and to inherit— everything of the Scarlet Queen! Transformed into an intelligent statue, the Wolf Knight stood silently in the center of the square, perpetually looking upward—gazing up at the "King" above his head, guarding his bewildered sister. Just like his absurd life. In Little Red Riding Hood's eyes, her brother had always been the person she wanted to rely on. What he had done in life remained the same in death. He would forever... look up at her and guard her. In this absurd life of his, his greatest pride and his deepest guilt was having such a sister. *"Little basket, sway and swing."* *"To the hillside, berries to bring."* *"Leave the roadside roses alone..."* So destruction, in the very end, truly turned into tranquility. Everything returned to a void of silence. Only a mournful nursery rhyme remained, holding up the inverted city, circling above the endless ruins, futilely summoning souls and calling out to the past. *"Moss stains the stone steps low."* *"Granny calls me soft and slow..."* *"Soft and slow..."* Bai Zhou snapped back to his senses in a daze. The immense stream of information and the rushing memories, experienced from the Wolf Knight's perspective, left him unable to calm his emotions for a long time. On the sacrificial square, Bai Zhou's gaze inadvertently caught something unfamiliar yet familiar. "That's..." Bai Zhou looked over. A peculiar crimson tree, as though gorged on human blood, carried an aura of decay. Yet it stood exceptionally tall, propping up the sky and reaching straight out through the skylight. Beside this dark red tree was the "High Priest" monster clinging to the skylight, peering inside! —The monster was not clinging to the temple roof. Its spine was perpetually bent because it was the fallen "King" who shouldered the world! Then, this peculiar "decayed tree"... At the peak of its lush canopy were numerous flattened depressions, as though the monster who had once been king occasionally rested there. Bai Zhou observed it for a long time, finally finding several familiar traces on the tree, confirming his suspicion. —It was the seed "Little Red Riding Hood" had planted back then. At that time, amidst the ruins, it had been only a sapling. A small potted plant secretly kept by Little Red Riding Hood beside the sacrificial square. Who would have guessed— it now stood tall and leafy, spreading out like a great canopy. *Buzz!* Suddenly, accompanied by the crimson last words shattering behind the Wolf Knight statue, *Step—* a hazy black silhouette stepped out from the statue and looked toward Bai Zhou. With a complex expression, he stared at Bai Zhou, slowly finishing the words left unsaid before: "If only the one to inherit that power back then..." "Had been you..."