Chapter 394
Chapter 394
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 394
Chapter Title: 2-16. The Great Counterattack (3)
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#16
About two hours had passed since I parted ways with Navardoje.
I was casually strolling up the cliff face, bigger than most mountains.
The drop-offs stretching out to either side were dizzying.
The distant roar of waves made its terrifying height all too real.
It was indeed the highest point in both Heiran and the Sea of Ghosts.
After walking a good while longer, the moment I hopped over a large boulder...
"Huh, already here?"
My view opened up wide, revealing the horizon.
A deep blue sea churned beneath the afternoon sun.
Unlike the cloudless sky, thousands of large and small icebergs floated on the water.
They looked like shredded magnolia petals scattered about.
The way they bobbed with the waves was refreshing.
"The sea's gotta be blue, after all."
The unpleasant red hue was gone.
The sky, once a pale gruel-gray, had reclaimed its blue.
The purification had succeeded.
The areas where I'd destroyed the roots nearby and absorbed Seniel's life force were returning to their original colors, just like the scenery before me now.
"Huuuuu..."
I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath.
Cold air filled my lungs.
A salty wind tousled my hair heavily.
Holding it a moment before exhaling, I couldn't help but smile.
It was truly the sea I remembered.
"Whoa there."
I slowly walked to the edge of the cliff.
Adeshan would've fainted if she saw this, but it was necessary for the view.
Confirming there was no further ground ahead, I sat cross-legged right there.
With the cliff jutting out toward the sea, even looking straight down revealed no land below.
"Not bad, right?"
I asked, but got no reply.
Not that I cared, I continued.
"The natives call this the Winter Horn. You can tell it's a fitting name from the way it horns out toward the sea like a conch. A few of my Penal Legion buddies called it the Winter Dick... but honestly, shape-wise, that fits just a tad better."
Especially the way it curved upward—it was oddly suggestive.
I chuckled and stuck my pipe in my mouth.
Sure enough, booze and smokes hit different with a good view.
I set the jar tucked at my side down between my knees.
"You're a quiet one. Or maybe too awestruck to speak?"
No reply this time either.
Of course not.
Fine-ground bone dust doesn't talk.
The white jar's surface bore the characters "Cain" etched into it.
"I was gonna take you to Numbton originally, but it got smashed to hell. Blame those bald bastards, I guess. Anyway, this spot's decent enough—bear with me."
I tapped the jar, and a clear tone rang out.
The reason I'd made time to come all the way here, dragging my feet despite the climb taking less than five minutes if rushed, was for a long-postponed funeral.
Specifically, to scatter the ashes.
"Man, they engraved it real nice. Guess Sis liked Dad after all."
Cain's name burned like fire.
Navardoje's handiwork, no doubt.
Looking closer, there was a small inscription below the name too.
"What's this now?"
I hadn't noticed until now.
Delicate and flowing—different handwriting.
I narrowed my eyes and read it.
"Thanks for everything... damn."
It was Elsia's note.
Of course it looked familiar—the same as the seed vault manual.
I roughly swept back my bangs.
"At least one of you could've survived out of sheer goodwill."
Missing the timing was a real shitty thing.
Leisure's one downside: lost and forgotten things resurfacing.
I opened the jar's lid, revealing the powdery white ashes.
"Feels weird scattering the bones of someone I buried myself..."
I muttered, exhaling smoke.
Strictly speaking, this world's Cain wasn't my father.
He'd died a lonely death without ever seeing or meeting me.
So if someone asked why bother with all this hassle, I'd just say "why not."
Because it was something I wanted to do.
"Someday, it'll return to how it was."
I scooped up a handful of ashes.
"As long as the Mother of Fire and Seniel exist... the world was designed that way from the start."
I stretched out my arm and opened my hand.
"Getting dragged to this weird place felt pretty shitty at first, honestly..."
The ashes poured out.
A timely sea breeze carried Father away.
By the time the powder vanished from sight, I muttered to myself.
"This works too, I think. In its own way."
I meant it.
Lately, I'd been thinking this place wasn't all bad.
The sky and sea regaining their colors.
People with the leisure to care about more than survival, finally able to laugh and cry.
Watching a world on its deathbed come back to life stirred indescribable feelings in me.
"Ah, but don't get me wrong—not planning to stick around forever. I've got my own life. Would've been nice to see the grandkid, though. Shame."
I missed my original world too, of course.
Even now, I missed Adeshan.
It'd been over a month since I'd seen her face.
What were they up to over there?
Scrambling to find their suddenly vanished me?
Or figuring I'd just jetted off on a whim and carrying on as usual?
Not unlikely.
I'd always lived pretty selfishly.
"Still, I'll do what I can before I go, so no worries."
Once involved, I wasn't about to sit idle.
I grabbed another handful of bone.
It was probably making a real difference for the future too.
With all the killing and smashing I'd done, it'd be tough for them to drag more baldies over here now.
I timed it with the wind to let go—
"...!!!"
Suddenly, goosebumps exploded across my skin.
I dropped the ashes in my grip.
Springing up, I yanked my sword hilt.
"What the—?"
The jar teetered but didn't fall.
Suppressing my pounding heart, I scanned around.
It was just an instant, but I'd definitely felt it.
Something was watching me.
"Hah... hah..."
A sensation I'd never felt before.
Nothing like the Bald Emperor or Abel after absorbing the Origin's power.
My sword hilt clung unusually to my hand; the blade gleamed murderously just from looking at it—Rin was tense.
I aimed at the horizon and waited, but the presence had vanished without a trace.
'What the fuck?'
Like a short but intense nightmare.
My back was soaked in cold sweat.
My feet felt rooted, hard to move.
"Rin. You okay?"
"...Creepy as hell. What was that?"
"No idea."
I took slow, deep breaths.
First, assess the situation properly.
Thankfully, my rigid body loosened with time.
(Not sure if this phrasing fits, but) I was about to wrap up and head back when—
"Sharp instincts. How'd you notice?"
"Huh?"
A familiar voice rang out from behind.
Surprising, but not startling or tense-making.
If anything, it put me at ease.
I slowly turned.
About twenty paces away, a white-haired man looked up at me.
"Abel?"
"Perfect spot for a grave. Prayers won't help now. You didn't seriously think you'd humiliate me like that and survive."
Abel wore a chilling smile.
In his right hand—clad only in pants—he gripped a sword from who-knows-where.
No blood on it, so thankfully not stolen from a fresh kill.
But how the hell did this guy...?
His limbs had regrown.
"Petty bastard. How'd you crawl out of there?"
"I'm the master of the Nebula Church. You thought that junk could hold me?"
"Quite the thick skin."
He wasn't keen on explaining nicely.
Still, guessing his method wasn't hard.
Blue liquid smeared around Abel's mouth.
"Aha."
Color and viscosity screamed giant blood.
Proving it, a sparkling mana haze rose from his shoulders—dozens of times stronger than hours ago.
The puzzle clicked instantly.
Yeah, that'd regrow limbs easy.
"You siphoned off some blood beforehand, huh. Figures a guy like you could handle chugging it. Couldn't move your limbs, so you hid it in your mouth?"
"...Surprisingly sharp. I saved it for healing wounds, but you idiots restored me instead. Magnificently, even."
Abel cackled.
A tactic he'd never shown in the original world.
Guess uninterrupted research paid off.
"Right... come to think, you weren't Dad's blood brother. Thought the wounds were fatal, but maybe you built tolerance to giant attacks."
"Your info-gathering's top-notch. Almost a waste."
"Fair. My oversight. Didn't expect you'd heal like that."
I was genuinely impressed.
A few weeks ahead of my projected escape timeline.
A shark's still a shark without fins, huh.
I was about to offer a reward to the test subject exceeding expectations when—
"Then, die."
Abel's form vanished.
Speed unbelievable for someone fresh off recovery.
A sharp thrust targeted my brow.
"Sheesh."
Abel was grinning.
His confident look said he thought those baldhead kills were fake.
Or someone else did them.
Makes sense—I'd get skeptical too if some no-name rookie boasted about slaying giants.
'No helping it.'
The moment the blade tip neared my skin—
I grabbed Abel's wrist and twisted it back.
A crunch echoed.
His dropped sword clattered to the ground.
"Wha...!"
"Sheesh. Not a bad skillset at all."
I smacked my lips.
Abel's swordsmanship was legit top-tier.
Even accounting for his shitty condition, he ranked in my top five opponents.
If fully off-guard, he might've even nicked my back.
'But that earlier thing... what was it really?'
Still, no tension at all—the reason was obvious.
That fleeting gaze lingered in my marrow, still raising goosebumps.
Abel struggled.
"Damn you, let go!"
"Should I?"
I obliged.
Released, he flew back like hit by a truck.
Giant blood still pumping—his broken wrist snapped right back.
Abel growled.
White light swirled up his sword.
A technique from the final war.
I sighed involuntarily.
"Didn't think I'd beat up Uncle in front of Dad."
Truth was, beating might not even wake him up.
My hunch about future-tech interrogation failing was spot-on.
Torture's gotta be classic.
I spun my sword and aimed at Abel.
"Twice, even."