Chapter 305
Chapter 305
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 305
Chapter Title: Chapter 7-1. Sixth Fragment, Requiem
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#Setting 14. "Princess of the Dragonkin"
Arrogant humans who called themselves an empire invaded the kingdom. Clad in iron and wielding sharply honed weapons, they fearlessly entered the domain ruled, governed, and protected by the dragonkin—draconians.
The orcs living on the outskirts fought valiantly against the intruders but suffered heavy losses and retreated. Hearing of the imperial forces' invasion, the kingdom's brave and wise dragonkin gathered. I led them to protect our allies and deliver iron punishment to the enemy, heading straight to the battlefield.
We repelled the invaders from the kingdom. Unlike when they had entered so arrogantly, buoyed by their previous victories and brimming with confidence in triumph, they couldn't even carry their own flesh and blood back with them.
We drove out the fearless invaders who had dared to assault the kingdom.
We brought divine retribution upon the arrogant humans who called themselves an empire.
But repelling them was not enough to satisfy us. They were the enemy, and they had laid hands on the heteromorphs we protected. We needed to give the heteromorphs living under our rule in the kingdom the assurance that they could live safely on this land.
At the very least, they needed the certainty that as long as they worked hard on this land, they had nothing to fear from facing enemies. And to our foes—indeed, to all humans living on this land and across this continent—we needed to teach them who held supremacy and whom they had dared to provoke.
I led our forces and charged straight into the empire.
We crossed a canyon and reached the enemy fortress. Compared to the kingdom's castles, it was shabby and crude, devoid of any beauty. The dragonkin shattered the gates in an instant, toppled the walls, and tore out the throats and ripped apart the bodies of those atop them.
No one who stood on two legs and gazed up at the sky was left alive. Not a single one who held a weapon survived. Those who begged for mercy were taken prisoner and brought back.
This event drew even more heteromorphs seeking the dragonkin's protection. The kingdom developed day by day, achieving dazzling civilization. We proclaimed ourselves the true empire. Time passed, and though I was young—perhaps too young—I was recognized for my exceptional potential and prowess, succeeding my father as the Dragon King.
I ruled the nation admirably, embraced the heteromorphs, and repelled invading enemies.
One day, my father and the senior dragonkin in key positions left for the Dragon Mountains on some business. Nothing seemed unusual.
Or so I thought.
That day, a meteor fell from the sky, turning everything upside down. It struck the capital with such precision it felt targeted. The powerful barrier over the capital activated immediately, but the meteor tore through it effortlessly.
The falling meteor crashed into the temple—the holiest site revered by dragonkin.
It landed where the First Sovereign, Sian, known as the original dragon, was enshrined. The temple was not only a sacred place for worshiping the Sovereign but also where the densest mana was concentrated for dragonkin awakenings. Any external influence could trigger a dangerous reaction from the gathered mana.
As the dragonkin most skilled in handling mana, I rushed to the temple. Countless dragonkin remaining in the palace recognized the severity and followed. When we entered, we saw a single sword radiating scorching mana, as if ready to burst into flames at any moment.
It was a sword that evoked both beauty and terror.
With its long blade pointed downward, it exuded seductive mana, as if pleading for someone to grasp it.
At that moment, one of the gathered dragonkin, perhaps entranced by the mana, staggered forward alone and reached for the sword before everyone's eyes. But in that instant, another dragonkin lunged, ripped out the heart of the one trying to seize it, killed him, and attempted to claim the sword himself.
In witnessing that, everyone realized the sword was an extremely dangerous object.
Several of us, including myself, immediately cast spells to subdue those reaching for it and evacuated those with weaker mental fortitude or unawakened from the temple.
Then, through the breached ceiling, a figure appeared in the sky, proclaiming himself the Fourth Sovereign. He revealed he had shattered his own heart into twenty-four artifacts and cast them into the mortal realm, promising to yield his throne to whoever gathered them all, before vanishing.
But there was no time to dwell on that. Realizing the mana no longer tempted him directly, the nameless Sovereign's creation—the sword—began absorbing the temple's dense mana. Simultaneously, flames began to rise from the blade based on the absorbed mana.
I immediately rallied the surrounding dragonkin to prepare a sealing ritual. With me at the center, the sealing formation was set, and all focused on that moment.
As the sealing progressed, the sword emitted even more intense mana, tempting the dragonkin around it. Whether it was the Sovereign's mana or not, it was a curse-like seduction unlike anything I'd ever felt. One of the dragonkin performing the seal reached his limit, stopped, and tried to walk into the formation.
"No, no..." he muttered, then, to avoid disrupting the ritual, plunged his hand into his own heart and took his life. Witnessing this, the others steeled their minds to the end.
One day, two days, three...
Time passed, and the number of dragonkin who took their own lives grew. The sword continued pouring out intense mana, seducing those around it. Everyone's mental strength was at its limit, but the seal was nearly complete. Was this its final struggle?
This sword, forged from a fragment of the Sovereign's shattered heart, unleashed all the mana it held, engulfed in flames. It was beautiful. The characters engraved on the silver blade glowed red, and fierce mana birthed roaring flames.
And at that moment, I—who was closest to the sword and the linchpin of the seal—succumbed to the temptation and grasped it. The surrounding dragonkin cried out in horror, urging me to let go, but I ignored them and lifted the sword.
I felt I could control this sword.
Unlike the others, wasn't I maintaining my reason?
Drawing on the knowledge the sword imparted, I swung it. Flames erupted as if waiting, incinerating the sealing formation we'd labored over for days, along with the bodies of those who had taken their lives.
Those who had held the sealing magic to the end until now vomited blood and charged at me. I cut down those screaming for me to drop it, as if possessed. When I had slain them all with the sword, I finally snapped out of it.
"..."
I couldn't comprehend what I had done.
I was the Princess of the Dragonkin, who led the dragonkin and heteromorphs... became the Dragon King... went to seal the fragment that fell from the heavens... steeled my heart watching dragonkin take their lives to resist the sword's temptation... but when the seal was complete, I failed to resist that temptation.
I cut down and burned the dragonkin trying to stop me... failed to control the mana flowing from the sword, proudly unleashing it and engulfing the sacred temple in flames.
I had destroyed everything.
I had ruined everything.
A hollow laugh escaped me. Unbearable regret knotted in my chest. Sobs burst forth in unstoppable sorrow. Weeping and wailing, I staggered out of the temple.
As I emerged, I saw dragonkin charging like madmen. Roaring incoherently, bereft of reason, they tried to wrest the sword from my grasp. I could have abandoned everything and let it go, but in that instant, I lost my senses again.
Dare to take what's mine?
It's mine.
Not yours.
I swung the sword, slashing them down. Burning them. The sword exuded mana toxic to dragonkin, seducing them, and it seemed every dragonkin in the capital was converging. I slashed and slashed, burned and burned them until, alone in that place, I saw myself shedding tears and wails. The once glorious and beautiful land was ablaze.
I had burned everything.
I had destroyed everything.
I had killed everyone.
....
In that moment, I lost my reason. The dense mana from the temple and the rich mana from the slain dragonkin corpses reacted with the sword, igniting massive flames. The sword blazed with enormous, world-consuming fury.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah──────!"
Amid those flames, feeling as if everything within me crumbled, I unleashed a scream of despair. The sword responded to my emotions, releasing the curse-like mana it harbored.
When I regained my senses, I stood at the center of the sealing formation, gazing at the mana emanating from the sword. I thought it was a hallucination. But just like in that vision, I grasped the sword again. I acted exactly as I had in the hallucination.
When I snapped out of it again, I was staring at the sword once more.
It wasn't a hallucination. I was endlessly repeating the same situation.
No matter how many times, I repeated the same deeds, knowing the process yet unable to resist the sword's temptation. Amid screams filled with despair, I continued this endless loop.
I plead desperately.
Someone, stop me.
Please, end this ceaseless torment filled with guilt.
+ + +
After parting with the others and pressing onward in a steady direction, Judah let out a sigh. Perhaps he was nearing the location of the sixth fragment, Requiem—hot winds laced with sand began to whip around him.
He distributed the scarves he'd prepared in advance to everyone. With scarves wrapped and Lime's magic filtering the swirling sand like a barrier, they pressed on. But as time passed, the sandstorm grew fiercer.
In this raging sandstorm, they coincidentally—too coincidentally to call it chance—encountered angels. Even Metatron's kin, resistant to heat, were helpless against this storm; their pristine white robes and wings were caked in sand.
They looked pathetic.
No different from the angels they'd met before, these ones attacked despite knowing Arhil was Gabriel's saintess. Just like the previous ones, they became fine snacks for the dragon head. Arhil now seemed resigned.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa────!
Amid the sandstorm came a voice, like someone wailing.
"Did you hear that?"
Judah, who had heard it clearly, immediately turned to Iris beside him. Iris shook her head, as if she had no idea what he meant. Arhil and Lime behind them were the same.
'You don't hear it?'
He couldn't believe it. It was too distinct to dismiss as a mistake—the wail still echoed.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Faint but carried on the wind, this voice brimming with despair and sorrow—no one else hearing it was baffling.