Chapter 279
Chapter 279
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 279
Chapter Title: Savior (5)
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“Gasp!”
Adeshan’s eyes snapped open. She jerked her head up and looked around frantically. The familiar sight of her desk, tactical map, and the tent walls surrounding her barracks came into view.
“...Where...?”
Only then did Adeshan realize she had dozed off face-down on her desk. Her limbs felt limp, as if soaked in water. She had only meant to rest her eyes for a moment, but it seemed she had fallen into a deeper sleep than intended.
Pale dawn light filtered through the gaps in the tent. The chirping of birds suggested daybreak had come. A full day had passed since Iril’s abduction.
“Damn it...”
She rubbed her dry face and let out a groan. It was the same today as yesterday. The voice of an unknown woman echoed in her mind.
What is she trying to say?
Ever since returning from the north with Ronan, the voice spoke to her at least once a day. The words were always similar—warnings of danger, advice to be a bit more ruthless.
At first, it had been hard to even make out the voice clearly, but the symptoms were worsening. The arm she had used as a pillow was drenched in cold sweat. Just as she started to rise from her seat,
the tent flap lifted, and a familiar boy stepped inside.
“Ar-Are you okay?”
Adeshan’s eyes widened. His tulip-red hair stood out sharply even in her groggy state.
“Asel? Why are you here...?”
“I-I heard Iril unnie was kidnapped and came to help. I’ve heard the situation, so no need to explain...”
Asel said he had just returned from the southern front. Thanks to completely breaking Nebula Klazie’s momentum lately, he could afford to step away. He and Rorhon, along with the other mages, were touring the battlefields, providing support without staying in one place.
“Did you have a nightmare? Your complexion...”
Asel suddenly asked with concern in his voice. Adeshan’s condition was worse than he had expected. The dark circles under her eyes and her disheveled, dry hair were proof of her exhaustion.
Adeshan shook her head.
“I’m fine. Thanks for worrying.”
“D-Don’t push yourself too hard. Iril unnie will be okay.”
Asel stammered, but his tone carried strange conviction. Adeshan asked,
“Did you see something again this time?”
“Not exactly... I just have a feeling she will be. She’s definitely still alive. Yeah.”
“Haha... If you feel that way, I can relax a little.”
Adeshan smiled weakly and let out a small sigh of relief. Asel’s claims based on intuition often proved accurate with high probability. It was an ability he had gained after glimpsing the giants’ world from the City of Dragons.
Suddenly, she recalled the first time she and Ronan had gone to meet Iril. The gentle smile, the way she stroked her little brother like a child—it was still vivid. They had seemed so close.
Her lips twisted as she murmured softly,
“...I hope so.”
She couldn’t even begin to imagine the mental anguish Ronan was enduring. The absence lasting over a day only amplified her worries. Of course, she trusted Ronan, but that didn’t stop the mortal concern gnawing at her.
I can’t stay slumped like this.
But she couldn’t afford to remain listless forever. As always, she had to do what she could. An hour’s sleep was plenty. Straightening her clothes, Adeshan rose to her feet.
“Let’s head out for now. Until Ronan returns, we’ll do what we can...”
“Hey.”
She was about to say more when a raspy voice came from behind. Startled, Asel leaped up like a cat.
“Kyaa!”
“Ba-Balzac?!”
Adeshan whipped her head around, her eyes widening. Balzac, the younger brother of the Shadow Archduke, was staggering in, gasping for breath. Blood dripped from his entire body—he looked in terrible shape. Long, red gashes that appeared to be claw marks scarred his face, limbs, and body.
“What in the world happened? Po-Potion, now...!”
“Shut up... Take this.”
Adeshan reached for an emergency potion, but Balzac shook his head to stop her. He extended his arm, placing something in her palm. A blood needle, caked in gore.
“This...!”
“In the heart of Paradise Forest... the entrance to their main base. A nameless lake... You’ll know it when you see it.”
Adeshan’s eyes widened. Balzac recounted everything he had seen on his reconnaissance mission. The Nebula Klazie main base, his encounter with the cult leader, and his comrades massacred in an instant.
“All of them... returned to the shadows. No one survived...”
Balzac trailed off. He wanted to explain in more detail, but time was running out for him.
Thud. The staggering Balzac finally collapsed to the ground. He had barely made it here by sustaining himself with the remaining blood essence in his body, but it seemed this was the end.
“H-Hang on! Balzac!”
Adeshan supported him. His head lolled lifelessly as she shook him. The one who always said he’d rather die than accept human help—none of that mattered now. A strained voice squeezed from his parted lips.
“Be careful... That cult leader is a monster beyond imagination. Not even Brother... not even that woman Navardoje could win...”
“Blood will save you, right? Drink mine!”
Adeshan rolled up her sleeve and offered her arm. It felt like conversing with a candle on the verge of extinguishing. But Balzac refused even that offer, just as he had the potion. His long-lost senses signaled the end was near.
“Heh... So dark.”
Balzac murmured softly. Thunk. His head drooped. Adeshan called his name once more, but there was no response.
“Wh-What... What is this...”
Asel whimpered. There was no sign of revival in his eyes, where the light had completely faded. For the vampires’ number two, it was far too pathetic an end.
Silent Adeshan finally spoke.
“...Calm down. I’ll gather everyone right now.”
Unlike Asel, she quickly regained her composure. She couldn’t let Balzac’s sacrifice go to waste, and as a field commander, this was her role. Focusing her mind, just as she was about to send a telepathic message to everyone—
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
The emergency bell, which rang only in crises, blared loudly. Adeshan turned her head. Soldiers’ shouts followed.
“S-Something in the sky!”
“Alert! Alert! It’s not our army’s magic!”
The sounds of stomping feet and grabbing weapons spread like wildfire. The two exchanged a glance and rushed out of the tent.
Cool morning air dampened her bangs. Soldiers moved in perfect order, warhorses reared on hind legs. Looking up, Asel’s face turned pale as a sheet.
“Th-That’s...!”
Two massive magic circles completely blanketed the sky above the camp. Geometric patterns and unknown runes arranged in the circles writhed like living things.
“...No.”
It was a magic circle she had seen somewhere before. Asel let out a despairing sigh. The second descent was beginning.
“I want to remove that curse.”
“...The curse?”
Ronan raised an eyebrow upon hearing the Savior’s words. Come to think of it, he had momentarily forgotten. Normally, if a curse was placed, it could be lifted.
Suppressing his emotions with effort, he asked again.
“All the ones remaining? For real?”
“Yes. But in my current state, it’s impossible. For a perfect removal, we must go to the source.”
“Source...? What’s that?”
“Where we’re headed now. We’re almost there. My condition isn’t good, so pick up the pace a bit.”
The Savior patted Ronan’s rear like a coachman. Frankly, it was confusing beyond comprehension, but the mere possibility of escaping that shitty curse made the time investment worthwhile.
A, yes. Let’s hurry. Ronan’s thighs, enhanced by mana, swelled massively. Boom!! As he kicked off the ice floor and charged forward, the Savior’s head snapped back.
“Gahk!”
“Hold on tight!”
No further conversation ensued. Each time Ronan struck the ground, dozens of meters closed in.
“Such a... damn colt...!”
“Sorry, I can’t hear you!”
The Savior seemed to spew curses from behind, but his faint voice was swallowed by the roaring wind. Before long, Ronan reached a dead end and came to a halt.
“Phew, here?”
“Hah... Huhhh... Yes...”
The Savior nodded shakily. He looked grateful his neck hadn’t snapped from the wind pressure. Ronan frowned as he looked up at the massive gate before them.
“...Doesn’t feel good.”
The enormous stone door was tall and wide enough for a dragon to walk through. It was about the size of Adren’s immigration checkpoint.
The door panels, aged at least ten thousand years, were carved with reliefs of all manner of sacred beings—gods, angels, animals, and more. Ronan tilted his head.
“What’s with all the sculptures?”
“...They suppress the energy inside from leaking out. By modern standards, it’s akin to a magic tool.”
The Savior answered. His face, turned back, was rigid as if struck by frostbite. Was he afraid? Closing his eyes and steadying his breath, the Savior spoke.
“...Let’s go in now. Smear your blood on the door.”
“My blood?”
“Yes. It should work. You’re one of only two bloodkin I have in this world...”
The Savior nodded emphatically. Ronan didn’t understand, but he followed instructions. Drawing blood was no big deal. He bit his thumb hard with his canine, and red droplets welled up. The moment he rubbed them on the stone surface—
-Rumble...!
The stone door growled as it began to open. Air carrying an indescribable stench rushed out. At the same time, Ronan’s brow furrowed deeply.
“What the, fuck...!”
His eyes stung painfully. The corridor stretching inside the door sparkled so brilliantly that “radiant” didn’t do it justice. The densest concentration of Nebula Klazie mana he had ever sensed floated in the stale air. The Savior said,
“Calm yourself.”
“Do I look calm right now?”
“Don’t freak out yet. Come, let’s go forward.”
Ronan slowly stepped inside. It felt like walking through a tunnel made of the Milky Way. Thud! The door slammed shut behind him. Pitch darkness fell, but the glittering mana lit the surroundings without issue.
Fortunately, this corridor wasn’t long. After about ten minutes of walking, an open space unfolded before them.
At its center rose a massive block of ice, as if a glacier floating in the Heran Sea had been transplanted there. Reflexively glancing at the ice, Ronan’s eyes nearly bulged out.
“That’s...!”
Something enormous was buried within the ice. The giant humanoid form appeared long dead.
Its beautifully sculpted, muscular body gleamed pure white. The only part protruding above the ice was its head, eyes closed. Four pairs of wings, broken and trapped in the ice, extended from its back.
“Giant.”
Ronan murmured unwittingly. It was unmistakably a giant. A being from the skies above the skies, like Ahayute or Duaru.
Why was it here? His head spun, nausea rising. The long-silent Savior finally spoke.
“Yes. The existence people call giants. Invaders from a distant universe... Now a soulless husk, yet it still harbors terrifying power.”
“Fuck... What the hell happened back then?”
“I’ll tell you now. The identity of your innate strange inaction, my foolish brother’s plan. Why all this occurred.”
The Savior nodded slowly. His face, gazing at the giant, held every human emotion—joy, sorrow, love, hate. Closing his eyes tightly once, then opening them, he continued.
“It all began here.”