Chapter 423
Chapter 423
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 423
Chapter Title: 2-93. Off The Record(1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"Ronan. Get up."
"Ugh... Where is this?"
"It's all over. If you don't want to get roasted, get on your feet."
Ronan groaned as he opened his eyes. His entire body throbbed like it'd been trampled by a herd of cattle.
He remembered manifesting his aura against Akasha, but everything after that was a blank.
"The charred big sis... no, it was Instructor Naviroje. What the hell happened?"
"The mage called Akasha has been sent packing to the next world. You chased after the bastard from that other world. The Mother of Flames is on her way to incinerate the whole area."
Naviroje extended a hand to Ronan.
He hesitated but grabbed his master's hand and stood. Sita was already coiled around his neck, sleeping soundly.
"You did good. You and that ferret pulled off something huge. He said they couldn't have pushed her this far without you."
"It's a dream bird, not a ferret... Got it done, huh. Heh, that bastard went and did it after all."
Ronan flashed a satisfied grin. It had been a short time together, but it'd be etched in his memory forever. Avenging the Grand General and saving the world were all thanks to that guy.
"I'll make a warrior out of you no less than him, so rest easy. It'll take bone-grinding effort, but since you're from the same mold, the potential's there."
"Ugh. I don't plan on getting that strong. I've already avenged my grudge."
"Talking like your belly's full. Sure, the crisis is averted for now, but I've got this sickness where I can't leave talented folks alone. Brace yourself."
"You're ruthless... Huh?"
Ronan suddenly cocked his head. He strode up and shoved his face right in Naviroje's.
She gasped involuntarily at the distance where their eyelashes nearly touched.
"...What the hell are you doing all of a sudden?"
"Instructor. Were you crying?"
"What?"
"Your eyes are red. What happened?"
Ronan reached out. His rough index finger gently brushed her tear tracks. It was a tenderness utterly unlike his usual crass demeanor.
Naviroje's face flushed beet red.
"You lunatic!"
"Ow! Don't yank my ear! I was worried about you, and this is the thanks I get?!"
"You... You bastards...!"
She bit her lower lip, words failing her. It'd been just three minutes since she'd been dumped without even a kiss, and here she was, nearly shaken by a guy with the same face.
Perplexed, Ronan rubbed his stinging ear.
"Anyway, glad you look okay now. Try not to cry if you can help it. Wastes a pretty face."
"Always with the smooth talk... I'm contacting Lord Rorhon. We need to evac now, so grab those two."
"Those two?"
Ronan glanced where Naviroje's finger pointed.
A redheaded girl and a werewolf lay sprawled there.
"Heroes who stepped up at the key moment. That werewolf looks familiar, but I can't place him. Make sure to bring them."
With that, Naviroje turned away. Ronan checked the pair. Fortunately, they were just unconscious, no major injuries.
He shook Asel's shoulder.
"Hey, miss. Wake up."
"H-Huh... Th-that mage?"
"She bolted. Word is you two did some big hero shit, so let's head back and grab a drink."
"She ran...? Ugh... Uwaaah!"
Asel tried to speak but vomited. Side effect of squeezing out more courage than she had.
The sudden ambush made Ronan freak out.
"Gah! Where do you think you're puking?! Think I'll go easy 'cause you're a girl?"
"Eek! Sorry! B-but I'm a guy!"
Asel shrieked, bolting upright. His mind cleared in an instant.
Gender mix-ups had kept him locked in solitary for three years—he was hypersensitive to it.
Locking eyes with Ronan, Asel gawked.
"Y-you're that swordsman?!"
"Nah, that guy's a different person. From some place called a parallel world."
"Parallel world...? What's that?"
"No time for the rundown. I'll explain later—get up for now. Name's Ronan. You, miss?"
"A-Asel. But like I said, I'm a guy..."
"You there, wolf bro! Snap out of it! We'll burn if we stay!"
Ronan woke Gidokan before Asel could finish.
The beast-man growled, then opened his eyes.
"Grrgh! You—you!!"
"I'm doing a lot of intros today. Name's Ronan. Same as the guy you saw, but different too. I'll explain after we get outta here, so if you can walk, follow quietly."
Repeating himself was a no-go. In Ronan's book, fun tales like this were for cozy inns with beers in hand.
He dragged the pair like luggage and exited the fortress.
The vista beyond the stone gates made Asel and Gidokan's eyes bulge.
"B-blue sky, Gidokan! The sky's blue!"
"It's real... We survived. But why's everything turned to forest?"
Locked in the fortress so long, it was baffling. Naviroje waited in the castle's inner courtyard with Rorhon and Zaifa.
"Ah, there they are. Good work, Ronan."
"Took you long enough, kid. If you'd trained under me, you'd have been out ages ago."
"Shut it, kitty. Keep your eyes off my disciple."
"...!"
Gidokan and Asel froze at the sight.
Archmage, Sword Saint, and the former Sword Saint who rivaled the current one.
The world's most influential figures gathered casually.
Eyeing Asel, she raised a brow.
"...Hm? Must be the one the High Priest mentioned."
"H-High Priest—Lady Alicia? I-I was just locked up, never cooperated...!"
"I know. His description was too spot-on, threw me for a sec."
"Eek, wh-what'd he say?"
Naviroje shook her head instead of answering. Telling a freshly rescued civilian he was a "cute boy you'd wanna take home as a plaything if he suits your taste" wouldn't land well.
Suddenly, Ronan frowned.
"Huh? What's with the leg?"
"Oh, this?"
Naviroje held a human leg in her right hand. Severed just below the knee, it was gaunt, pale, and grotesquely lifelike.
"Akasha the mage's leg. The you from the eternal world cut it off. Figured it had research value, so I grabbed it. Wanna see?"
"Nah, I'm good."
"W-wait. Mind if I take a look?"
Gidokan cut in.
Naviroje handed it over curiously. He inspected it closely and nodded.
"As I thought."
"What?"
"It's a prosthetic. An incredibly sophisticated one. Akasha never had that leg to begin with."
"What? A prosthetic?"
All eyes turned. No one had suspected it. The exposed bone, muscle, and blackened veins screamed real.
Naviroje's eyes widened.
"...I remember now. Aren't you Gran Kapadokia, the blacksmith? Worked under Master Doron."
"Yeah. Kidnapped after he died. Dark days."
"No wonder you looked familiar... What a coincidence. So you're saying that's really fake?"
"Yep. Masterfully done, but definitely artificial. Fooling it to bleed like this—insanely cunning. But... hold on..."
Gidokan's eyes narrowed. Fur on his nape bristled in real time.
Grinding his fangs nervously, he muttered.
"This... Nah, can't be. Weird."
"What?"
"This prosthetic. Skill's way above mine, but..."
Answering Ronan, Gidokan trailed off.
He peered at it cornea-close.
"The finishing... looks just like mine."
"What kinda nonsense is that?"
"Yeah, total nonsense. Must be my imagination. Here."
Gidokan returned it to Naviroje. She and the others blinked, still doubting it was fake.
Turning back to Ronan, Gidokan grinned.
"Anyway, thanks a ton, Ronan. Lost to Akasha, but I saw your skills clear. If you're game, I'll forge you a sword as thanks. Can't match what the parallel-world you swings yet, but..."
"Whoa, you don't have to. But if you insist, I'll take it."
"Keh heh. Love the honesty. This Asel guy's a helluva mage too. Got stories to swap back home."
"Sweet. Let's get properly smashed then. You too, miss?"
"N-not that great... And I'm a guy."
Asel waved awkwardly with an embarrassed smile.
But Rorhon, silently watching Asel, had already pegged him as the talent parallel Ronan mentioned. He licked his chops—the precision of mana leaking from his shoulders made him itch to teach, a rare urge.
Then Zaifa, gazing west, thumped his tail on the ground.
"Hey. Time to head out."
"...Yeah, exactly twenty minutes. Always so punctual."
Rorhon stroked his beard, looking the same way.
Five red dragons soared from the horizon. Navardoje in true form looked not a creature, but a red storm devouring all.
"Th-that...!"
Ronan, Asel, and Gidokan gaped. First time seeing dragons for real—and Navardoje's kin at that.
Under her vast wings, fire dragons like Itargand and Brniharo flew in formation.
Brniharo's tail poked Itargand's side mid-flight.
Itargand bristled her scales. The dragons eavesdropping chuckled.
Navardoje's solemn voice boomed from above, sterner than usual.
At her command, their eyes sharpened. They cast in perfect unison, encasing all of Sheorn Forest in a barrier. A chimney-like cylinder towered hundreds of meters, open only at the top.
Whooooosh...
Their wingbeats made the forest shudder.
Naviroje swept back her windswept hair.
"The Mother of Flames has arrived. Lord Rorhon?"
"Yep. Time to go. Stick around longer, and we won't scrape up bones."
Rorhon nodded. Sheorn Forest was doomed.
Giving the pale castle one last look, he smiled kindly.
"The dawn of a new era."
Rorhon snapped his fingers. Space warped, vanishing the six people and one bird.
Almost simultaneously, Navardoje's maw gaped. Molten inferno poured from her cavernous throat.
Kwaaaaaah—!!
The firestorm filled the barrier instantly, erupting skyward in a massive plume. Not a single ember escaped outward.
The hottest flames on this star consumed Sheorn Forest, the evil-riddled ruins, and any lingering seeds of darkness—without a speck left behind.