Chapter 278
Chapter 278
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 278
Chapter Title: Purging the Curse
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"...Hello."
Ronan bowed his head politely. The Savior smiled softly. Everything had gone smoothly up to this point, but now he couldn't think of anything else to say.
'This is fucking awkward.'
He shot a glance at Elsia, but she was too busy weeping tears of joy at the Savior's revival to notice Ronan's face.
"Sniff... sob... Finally..."
'Damn it.'
Ronan twisted his lips. Having finished the greeting, the Savior simply stared at him without saying a word. Come on, doesn't this guy have anything to say to his son after all this time? Ronan scratched his head and broke the ice.
"Uh... how's your body feeling?"
"Much better. A world of improvement."
"Doesn't look like it."
Ronan narrowed his eyes. It seemed a bit better than before, but the wound was still a fatal one that defied belief—he was alive, period. Through the hole in his head the size of a child's skull, the scenery behind him was still visible.
"Hmm, it's more accurate to say I've passed the worst of it. I've healed enough for self-regeneration to kick in, so now it's just a matter of time."
"Glad to hear that."
"I never imagined you'd actually bring back Abel's blood... I can't help but express my respect for your courage and strength."
The Savior spoke. As he said, the wound was slowly mending. At least it hadn't been a wasted trip—Ronan felt relieved.
But there was one thing pricking at his conscience. Ronan answered awkwardly.
"I-I just picked it up off the ground. No idea who inflicted that wound on the monster."
"Is that so. Then it must have been that child, Iril."
"What? My sister?"
Ronan's eyes widened. He had no clue what this meant. His sister Iril was the type who got scared even plucking a chicken's neck and asked him to do it for her.
He could still picture her strutting around confidently promising to cook meat, only to come sniffling to him at the sight of blood.
The idea that she had crossed swords with the Nebula Klazje's cult leader and even wounded him? It was harder to imagine than Asel using telekinesis to pull Marya in for a kiss. The Savior continued.
"Your sister... that is, Iril, inherited the blood far more deeply than you. Of course, in terms of personal combat ability, you're superior, but she can defend herself just fine."
His tone was calm, as if stating simple facts. Ronan, still dumbfounded, struggled to picture Iril wielding a blade.
"No way."
"It's true. She simply never had the chance to awaken it, thanks to her other abilities. I had hoped it would remain dormant forever..."
"...Let's say that's true. Right, there's something I wanted to ask."
Suddenly, Ronan snapped his fingers. The shocking news had delayed him from getting to the main point.
He had plenty of questions and backlog to unload, but right now, saving Iril was all that mattered. He was about to explain the situation.
"No need to explain everything. I've seen it all already. Iril was kidnapped by my foolish brother, wasn't she? And you've come seeking advice on that."
"What? How did you know?"
Ronan raised an eyebrow. Now that he thought about it, even their earlier conversation wouldn't make sense without knowledge of Iril's plight. It had flowed so naturally he'd overlooked it.
"It's nothing much. My eyes were closed, but my ears were open. I remember every word you and Elsia exchanged in here."
"Hah."
Ronan let out a hollow laugh. He hadn't expected the Savior to retain consciousness inside the glass tube. Of course, not needing lengthy explanations was good news. The Savior cleared his throat.
"Ahem... In any case, if Abel took her, the situation isn't favorable. Not only his goals, but he's surely brought her to the main temple, meaning you'll face Abel and the archbishops all at once..."
"Spot on. Any ideas? Bonus points if you can tell me how to deal with those winged baldies."
"...First, we need to get out of here. Elsia, help me out."
"Y-Yes?!"
Elsia's eyes bulged at the Savior's sudden request. Tear tracks still stained her pale cheeks. She shook her head vigorously.
"B-But your wounds haven't fully healed. If you push yourself..."
"Hurry. We don't have time."
The Savior spoke firmly. A grave resolve had settled over his once-gentle features. Perhaps because his only daughter had been taken. Elsia hesitated before finally nodding.
"...Understood."
She walked to a corner of the room and operated a complex machine. Pssshhh... The liquid inside the glass tube drained, and the entrance opened.
"Ahh, how long since I've stood on my own two feet..."
The Savior stretched his limbs and stepped out. The moment he exited the tube—thud! His spindly leg buckled, and his body tilted sharply.
"Whoa."
"S-Savior!"
Elsia screamed. Ronan lunged forward. Fortunately, he caught him before he hit the floor. Ronan asked worriedly.
"Damn, you sure you're okay?"
"Yes. Seems my muscles are out of practice after so long. Thank you."
The Savior nodded. He rose unsteadily, like a newborn fawn. Elsia rushed over and draped a thick robe over his naked form.
"H-Here, wear this. You can't catch a cold."
"Yes. Thank you."
Ronan's brow furrowed. He wondered if they should just shove him back in the tube and pickle him some more. But if the man said he was fine... Facing Ronan, the Savior spoke.
"...Then, to answer your question. It's impossible for you as you are now."
"Pardon?"
"Abel is strong. Far stronger than you imagine. Even Navardoje herself couldn't defeat him."
His tone was veiled in certainty. If that's the case, why the hell did you insist on coming out? Ronan raked back his bangs roughly.
"Goddamn it, I know that much. That's why I came to you for a way to crush the bastard."
Veins bulged on Ronan's forehead. He'd come seeking answers, not platitudes—it made his blood boil. Elsia, overhearing, approached cautiously.
"R-Ronan... your words..."
"Sorry, just give me a minute, Elsia. I'm holding back because sis is in a hurry, but honestly, from my perspective, this guy's less a respectable father and more the bastard who abandoned our mom and us."
"That's..."
"And he didn't just leave. He loaded us up with curses no normal human could handle and bolted."
Ronan growled. Years of pent-up rage blazed. In fact, if the Savior's condition were any better, Ronan would've socked him in the face or gut. Something spicy.
Realizing it wasn't her place, Elsia clamped her mouth shut. The Savior beside her gave a wry smile.
"You're not wrong. I was certainly far from an exemplary father."
"Good to know you have a conscience. By the way, you've been groaning in pain for ages—how'd you manage to meet Mom? Weren't you hurting back then?"
Ronan asked. It suddenly struck him as odd. He claimed to be so ill five years ago that he entered the tube himself—how'd he seduce Mom and knock her up? The Savior shook his head.
"I was. But sometimes, love makes even the agony of death fade away."
"Ugh."
"You'll understand someday. One truth I learned wasting my long life: no force in this universe is stronger."
His voice grew solemn. He explained he'd met Mom by chance while ill and settled briefly in Numberton. Who'd have thought they'd share such family talk? Living long had its perks.
"Above all... your mother was breathtakingly beautiful. Worth throwing away my remaining years for."
"That much I can buy."
Ronan chuckled. Anyone who'd seen Iril's face would easily grasp why this old man overexerted himself. An awkward silence fell. Recalling memories, the Savior spoke.
"Well then, let's go."
"Go? Where?"
"We need to defeat Abel and rescue my daughter."
"What? Didn't you just say it's absolutely impossible?"
Ronan's eyes widened. This contradicted what he'd heard moments ago. The Savior shook his head.
"Precisely, I said it's impossible for you now. There is a way to improve your odds."
"Which is?"
"I'll explain on the way. Give me a piggyback."
"...Pardon?"
"Hurry. It's quite a trek, and in my state, I won't make it."
The Savior explained they needed to head to a specific spot somewhere in the Sea of Phantoms to create even a chance of victory. His brazenness drew a hollow laugh from Ronan. Absurd, but worth a shot—he crouched down.
"What the hell..."
"Whoa there... owe you one."
The Savior climbed on without hesitation. The more they talked, the less he matched Ronan's expectations.
Imprisoned so long in the tube, the Savior was surprisingly light. Patting Ronan's back, he remarked admiringly.
"You've got a broad back."
"...Hmph."
Ronan snorted. He couldn't quite describe his mood. Not great, but not bad either. Steadying himself, the Savior addressed Elsia.
"Elsia, hold the fort. It won't take too long."
"As you wish."
Elsia bowed. Her eyes mixed equal parts awe and worry as she watched them. Guiding Ronan like a mount, the Savior spoke.
"Alright, let's head out."
Unexpectedly, the path to the secret location connected to the ruins. Leaving the room, Ronan followed the Savior's directions. They descended a ladder from a small chamber resembling a food storeroom in the ruins' remotest corner.
"How far does this go?"
"Deep... very deep. Tired?"
"Nah. Just curious how long it'll take."
Ronan replied curtly. Truthfully, it was no strain. After thirty minutes down the ladder, a long, steep slope appeared.
"...Fucking cold."
His breath nearly froze. Strangely, it grew colder the deeper they went. To think the Sea of Phantoms hid such a place.
Unlike earlier chatter, the Savior now maintained silence en route. His expression looked tense, unwell. After descending the slope awhile, Ronan asked.
"So, what's this method? How do I beat Abel like this?"
"......I can feel Vajra's mana and the Primordial Ember's heat in your heart. To perform curse removal this way... how novel."
"Huh? What're you suddenly—"
"Ronan. I know you've done everything to lift the curse. Yet half of it still lingers in your body."
Ronan gasped. He hadn't expected the curse topic here. The Savior pressed on, ignoring his shock.
"I'm going to remove it."