Chapter 379
Chapter 379
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 379
Chapter Title: 2-1. The Story Begins From Here
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My name is Ronan.
To be precise, Ronan de Balture.
I ended up with this bizarre surname because my achievements in saving the world earned me a noble title.
The Emperor was thrilled, but honestly, I wasn't a fan.
What was he thinking? It wasn't like I needed tongue rehabilitation therapy.
I have no idea which idiot came up with the idea of slapping a land deed term onto a person's name.
Anyway, that's how it is, so just call me Ronan.
"...Feels like my brain's in a dehydrator on spin cycle."
My writing ground to a halt.
I flipped the fountain pen and scratched my head with it.
I hadn't realized it when I was just reading books, but writing was far more grueling than I'd imagined.
A sharp voice rang out from beyond the door.
"If it's too tough, should I look for a ghostwriter even now?"
"Nah. It only means something if I do it myself. I want to be remembered as a cool adult."
"That's definitely the best approach. Your grandchild will love it for sure."
My editor... or rather, the self-proclaimed editor, Erzsebet de Acalusia.
Her voice brimmed with amusement at the mention of my grandchild.
I was happy too, but I couldn't fathom what had her so delighted.
Was it because Adeshan's blood was mixed in?
"So, how long are you planning to stand there?"
"Until I get today's manuscript, of course. Don't worry, I've got plenty of time."
"Is that something the Dawn Spire's Master should say? I'll handle it my way, so stop tormenting this poor old man and get inside."
"A wrinkle-free face calling itself old? And I'm on leave until your grandchild is born~"
Her drawn-out tone was annoying.
It suddenly made me feel the weight of time.
The girl who'd always been as prickly as a cat in a bath had become so brazen.
The fountain pen spinning in my fingers stopped.
"Grandchild..."
It was a word heavy with thoughts.
Moonlight seeping through the half-open window amplified my unease.
I was about to become a grandfather.
I was still young for an old man's category, but my son had sped things along nicely.
"Come to think of it, you and Adeshan unnie sped things up too. Is it genetic? How intriguing."
"Shut it."
She was right, as Erzsebet said.
Even as parents, we had no grounds to scold him.
Right now, my son and daughter-in-law were at the capital's general hospital, awaiting the moment of birth.
Since she'd been admitted early, it would be a while before she screamed that all this pain was his fault and yanked out his hair.
'Gonna hurt like hell. Poor kid's in for it.'
The prologue was getting long.
Anyway, this was why I was throwing myself into writing, something utterly out of character for me.
I wanted to gift a book I'd written myself to my soon-to-be-born grandchild.
A good story worth rereading over and over.
"Alright, let's give it a shot..."
I gripped the fountain pen again.
It was far lighter than a sword, yet the weight I felt was comparable.
Maybe that's why they say the pen is mightier than the sword.
The pentagonal nib touched the manuscript paper.
"Ronan."
"What?"
"You got this. You'll write something great."
"Hmph, obviously."
The corner of my mouth lifted.
A beauty's encouragement always gives you a boost.
The fountain pen began dancing across the paper.
This story chronicles the events of the night before I proposed to my beloved wife.
I get the puzzled look you're giving.
Less than 24 hours at most—surely nothing monumental enough to warrant a book happened, right?
But I assure you.
What I went through was undoubtedly an adventure.
A grand adventure, even.
You can trust my word—I've waged war against winged baldies and flown to other stars.
"I could even bet my eternal companion, the holy sword Rin... fine, I won't. Stop your sniveling."
I'll skip the clichéd character introductions.
Most are familiar faces anyway.
For more details, check the Ronan biographies littering bookstores.
Most are mangled by lowbrow embellishments and fit only for kindling, but the edition written by Elsia and vetted by Alibrieha is decent.
Now, to the main story.
A breezy sunset.
The outskirts of the capital, amid full-scale postwar reconstruction.
This is where the story begins.
"Asel. I'm getting married."
"Wh-what?! Kek!"
Asel, who'd been sipping his beer beside me, recoiled in shock.
His girlish shriek clung perfectly to my eardrums, as always.
This dwarf and I were resting after clearing rubble equivalent to five villages.
The cleared lot held only a small tent and a campfire.
Sizzle!
Beer sprayed from Asel's nose and mouth onto the flames.
"S-sudden marriage... with Senior Adeshan?"
"Who else? Don't jinx it."
"Uwah! It h-hurts!"
I stretched his cheek long.
I quickly scanned around—thankfully, Adeshan wasn't in sight.
We'd nearly faced an interrogation as a pair.
She'd have grilled him on who else was on the bride candidate list.
She rarely got angry, but she was a grand inquisitor in those matters.
"Haa... lost ten years there. Anyway, proposing tomorrow. Ceremony after graduation. Venue TBD."
"R-right... but isn't it too fast? We haven't even graduated yet..."
"Fair point."
"B-but why? What sparked the decision?"
Asel asked cautiously.
Instead of answering, I checked our surroundings again.
The site was empty now that work hours were over.
Silent ruins and forest.
A screech owl's cry from afar.
Crackling campfire embers.
Hmm, no eavesdroppers.
"Hey. Keep this between us. Top-secret—only me and Adeshan know."
"Wh-what is it...?"
I pulled Asel close and whispered.
"I'm gonna be a dad."
"Gasp."
Asel's eyes widened.
He froze like he'd been struck by lightning.
Whatever he was thinking, his pale face flushed red.
"A-a baby... you mean..."
"Yeah. Damn it."
I stuck a pipe in my mouth.
Inhaled deeply, exhaled white smoke that dispersed.
The moment I became a father was still vivid.
An ordinary morning.
After our usual shower, as I toweled her hair, Adeshan suddenly clutched her mouth and dry-heaved.
Chills ran down my spine.
We rushed to the hospital.
While holding hands and waiting, an octopus-faced doctor delivered the news: pregnancy.
'First time she'd been that happy since the war ended.'
Adeshan bounced like a kid, tears streaming.
I think she whispered 'Finally' softly, but I must've misheard.
I was thrilled too.
No joke, genuinely.
From the start of living together, I'd always envisioned it—marrying someday, having kids, living cozily.
Just... sooner than expected.
"I-I see... congrats, Ronan. Truly."
"Thanks. Scary as hell, but it'll work out. You and Marya talked marriage yet?"
"Not yet... honestly, no clue. Would Marya want to marry someone like me?"
"What nonsense. She'd fight if you dodged. That girl adores you."
I chuckled unwittingly.
I'd once overheard Marya and Adeshan gossiping at home.
Vulgar talk that stuck.
First time realizing women discuss bedroom matters freely, unlike men.
'Learned stuff I wish I hadn't. Shit.'
Marya bragged gigglingly about how she 'plucked that tulip' (Asel's pet name—a prime example of unwanted info).
Some details were cruder than anything from penal legion days.
The raunchy chat peaked with her wanting a kid soon—any tips?
'Poor bastard.'
Asel suddenly seemed pitiful.
A brutal future awaited.
Days crushed under breasts bigger than his head.
Five kids at least?
Blissfully unaware, Asel's eyes sparkled.
"R-really?"
"Yeah. Have some confidence. You're gonna be a grand mage. We'd all be dead in that war without you."
"N-not that much... hehe. Thanks."
"No prob."
We sipped our beers.
A cool spring breeze brushed our foreheads.
Flower season was near.
The sky above was crimson, like my eyes.
'Sunset.'
Gazing at it stirred untimely thoughts.
Different from fatherhood worries.
I toyed with my lips and called Asel.
"...Hey. Asel."
"Yeah?"
"Suppose someone has a twisted fate: dies, but retains memories and returns to childhood. If that person dies, what happens to the original world?"
"Huh? What's that out of nowhere...?"
Asel tilted his head.
Too profound for a random question.
The Grand General endured three regressions before her end here.
So, what of the world after her death?
Did it reset with her?
Or persist?
Uncharacteristic worry, but I couldn't stop.
I was about to say ignore it.
"Intriguing topic... Hm, I think the world would remain after their death."
"Not erased by reversed time?"
"Yeah. Academic consensus: time travel to the past is impossible. Likely shifted to a parallel world instead. Super hypothetical, of course."
"...Parallel world? First I've heard."
"Pretty known in the field. Posits worlds like ours on parallel lines. Everyone fantasizes returning to the past with memories, right? This hypothesis emerged from logical breakdowns."
Asel spoke fluidly, engaged.
Regretted asking instantly.
If true, Adeshan's dead worlds held only despair.
Nothing certain, so meaningless.
"Got it. Thanks."
"Hehe, didn't expect you into this. Want more on parallel world theory?"
"Nah. Chug and sleep. Mountains of work tomorrow."
"Oh, right."
Asel nodded.
We toasted and downed the rest.
Much left to clear and fix.
I wiped my mouth with my sleeve and crawled into my sleeping bag.
Earlier than usual, but proposal tomorrow meant starting earlier to meet quota.
"Whew... exhausting."
Images of everyone grinding in their roles flashed.
Adeshan directing people and beasts for hauling or paperwork.
Marya napping on wagons while running her merchant group.
Schlieffen and Erzsebet commanding families; Braum brute-forcing.
Ophelia and Shadow Archduke's vampires waking soon.
They worked nights while we slept.
"Abel, you bastard..."
Anger surged suddenly.
All this hardship because of that prick.
If he repented before dying, he could've helped rebuild instead of shitting everywhere and fleeing.
Hand in pocket grasped the orb Abel left.
Toyed with it habitually—it oddly calmed me.
I mumbled drowsily.
"Grand General..."
Eyelids grew heavy.
"Mm."
I opened my eyes.
Star-packed night sky.
No sign of dawn.
Asel slept soundly in his bag.
Woke far earlier than usual.
Dying campfire flickered faintly.
"Damn."
Irritation welled.
Seemed I'd pull an all-nighter.
Lately, waking once made resleeping hard.
Too many worries?
Sudden fatherhood was turmoil enough; parallel world theory worsened it.
'Just delusions.'
Wondered if I needed psychiatric help.
Worrying pointlessly like dementia onset in elders.
Maybe a walk to calm down.
As I stepped forward.
Gazing at the empty forest, my eyes caught 'something'.
"...What?"
A ghostly lick on my nape.
Chills; hairs stood.
I bolted toward it.
Asel didn't stir.
Campfire shrank to a red dot in a blink.
That 'something' approached rapidly.
"Nebula Klazie."
I muttered, entranced.
Star-sand-like mana sparkled amid dark trees.
Undoubtedly their traces.
Thought I'd eradicated them—how?
Soon deep in the forest.
Several snapped trees.
Pitted ground—recent battle signs.
'Fresh. Still here.'
Hand to hilt.
Enemy nearby.
As I pursued earnestly.
Krunch!
A figure burst through a tree ahead.
"Kuh!"
Landed nimbly.
Moonlight poured where the tree fell.
Darkness lifted; I forgot to breathe.
"...!"
The figure: fierce elf woman.
Glittering mana leaked from her shoulders.
Sleek limbs shrouded in shadow even under moonlight.
'Impossible.'
Battle-worn, battered.
Left hand gripped a dark sword.
As expected.
Weapon from shadows—seen before.
Stormy Baidian Mountains.
Night Sarante turned to stone.
Lips parted at last.
"...Brigia?"
"Wh... who are you?!"
Brigia frowned, finally noticing me.
First Nebula Klazie branch chief I killed.
Slain by my hand, yet she didn't recognize me.
Her fingertips writhed.
"Tch, out of my way!"
I wanted to unravel the mystery, but Brigia had no time for intros.
Shadow thorns targeted my throat.
Almost identical to Baidian assault.
Yawn-inducingly slow.
"Playing rough, huh."
No need for mana.
Tilted head, dodged.
Sword drawn silently, arced.
Slash!
Brigia's arms flew airborne.
"Ah?"
Her eyes widened.
Dazed face suggested just realizing.
Blood spurted from clean cuts.
"Better sever legs too for safety."
"Kyaaak! W-wait!"
Agonized scream echoed.
I ignored it.
Didn't know details, but unprovoked attack meant same villainy.
As sword swung at her legs.
[Ronan. Wait.]
"What?"
A deep, familiar voice in my head.
Blade halted a paper's width from her thigh.
Simultaneously, blue beam shot from her direction.
Pierced Brigia's chest.
"Guh..."
Boom!
Thunderous explosion.
Lightning magic.
Charred Brigia toppled forward.
I turned toward the beam.
"Now what."
Still gripping hilt.
A man stood backlit by moonlight.
Ears grown beside hair as long as Brigia's.
He spoke in the mind-voice.
"It's truly been ages. Where to begin..."
"What...!"
Seeing his face froze me.
Three times the shock of Brigia.
Inevitable.
He was someone close.
Man who became stone, Seniel's apostle.
High Elf Sarante Lemation stood in a black suit.
"Sarante."
"Good to see you, Ronan."