Chapter 146
Chapter 146
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter Title: Forgetting Myself
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My thigh, pierced by the bullet, throbs with agony.
So much so that I want to shove my fingers into the wound and tear it open right now.
"Ugh..."
After leaping at the ranged heroes and letting out a wild yell, dizziness crashes over me.
My vision ripples again, flashing like I've downed a massive dose of drugs.
The sky melts in vivid emerald hues, the distant horizon twists and writhes, and countless gazes pour down on me as I rise from my spot.
Amid the crowd surrounding me, Han U-sol watches.
"Urk!"
I vomit bright red blood onto the ground.
The damp floor stains crimson.
Bearing the onslaught of hostile and terrified stares from every direction, I lose myself.
Forgetting myself.
It's all because of those bullets infused with holy power.
As the holy power courses through my body, the hallucinations rage even wilder.
A mere scrap of metal, yet it wields that holy power like a weapon, ripping through my flesh and mind.
"Fucking holy power."
Damn god.
Angels I could chew up and spit out.
Sacred and noble transcendent beings to some, but to me, nothing but vile poison.
I haven't done anything wrong. I knew nothing.
I never imagined or wished for a situation like this.
If there's any sin, it's just bad luck.
Why did it turn out like this?
Why must I suffer so much?
Even though I'm this desperate.
"Shit..."
The curse I spit out to cling to my fraying mind does little good.
My vision still swirls in garish colors, and the tremors wracking my body won't subside.
The heroes encircling me stare in stony silence. Is time crawling, or are they frozen from shock?
A torrent of emotions washes over me—panic, anxiety—but the two dominating them all are hostility and fear.
Thud.
I take a step forward.
Thud.
With every step I advance, the heroes recoil in terror.
Seems the chaos I just caused left quite the impression.
Thud.
Not bad at all. I take another step.
Respect always stems from fear, after all.
If I keep pressuring them like this, carving a path for the magic beasts to escape should be easy.
But there's always an exception.
Some forget their duty in fear, while others cling to their purpose despite it.
Bang!
A heavy gunshot rings out.
I tilt my head aside, effortlessly dodging the bullet aimed at my skull.
The shot came from right behind me.
I whip around to glare at the shooter.
"...Ah."
Ronel, sprawled on the ground with her gun trained on me, draws a sharp breath.
Her again.
Just moments ago, she was flailing in panic, on the verge of pissing herself—yet she pulled the trigger once more.
Even now, meeting my eyes, she looks ready to drop dead from fright.
And yet, her gaze burns with desperation.
It's oddly intriguing.
Whoosh!
I close the distance in an instant and raise my fist.
In that split second, our eyes lock, and she mutters as if sensing her fate.
"Ah, I'm fucked..."
Clang!
But my descending fist never reaches her.
Han U-sol's barrier blocks the way.
"........."
I stare blankly as the barrier takes the blow and shatters harmlessly, then glance around.
Not far off, Han U-sol watches me.
Eight weapons hover behind his back.
All aimed my way.
"...You."
It was inevitable, but a corner of my heart still twists uncomfortably.
He always said he'd stand by me, yet here he is, weapons drawn on me.
A selfish thought flickers by: even though I declared war on humanity and shoved him away, was I secretly hoping for something?
I stand still, peering at Han U-sol's face. I'm curious what expression he's wearing.
But for some reason, his features are blurred, indistinct.
Everything else is sharp, yet only his face swims hazily.
"Ha. Fine. Whatever."
What does his face matter?
The key fact is that Han U-sol has weapons trained on me.
He's made his choice.
Maybe I forced that choice on him by stripping away his options.
By declaring enmity against humanity and driving him off, this was inevitable.
Even if he cares for me, abandoning humanity for my sake is absurd—even I can see that.
I know that.
I know, but it still sours my mood.
You'd feel the same, probably.
Boom!
I slam into a nearby hero and send him flying—a bit of venting.
"D-Damn it! Block him!"
"Snap out of it! Don't panic!"
The heroes lash out in retaliation, but their attacks are easy to dodge or deflect.
It was only natural.
With allies swarming around, ranged heroes couldn't unleash their full power.
Any area attack or explosion would ensnare their own side.
Boom! Boom!
"Argh?!"
"Wh-What speed...!"
Compared to the frontliners, these guys' physical prowess doesn't even reach my toes.
Dizzy and nauseous or not, tossing them far away is child's play.
As I tear through the flustered rearguard's ranks, the frontliners grow urgent.
"Support the rear! It's collapsing!"
"But Captain! The magic beasts!"
But the situation offers them no mercy. Magic beasts are starting to emerge from the fog.
The frontliners have their hands full just holding them back.
Boom!
So all that's left is to ram the rearguard heroes one by one and send them packing.
"Anis!"
A voice calls out.
High-pitched but pleasant to the ear.
Yoon Na-rin rushes toward me.
"Anis! Stop! Calm down!"
Her words are painfully naive.
Stop?
How?
Sorry, Na-rin.
In this situation, stopping isn't an option anymore.
Calm down?
I'm plenty calm.
The world spins and shimmers in vivid colors, but my mind is razor-sharp.
If I weren't calm, I wouldn't be sparing these heroes—just hurling them aside.
That means every move I'm making stems from perfectly rational thought and judgment.
Crack!
I grab Yoon Na-rin by the collar and hoist her up. Her startled eyes meet mine.
"Ugh, Anis...!?"
If anything, you're the irrational one, Na-rin.
I'm armed, Han U-sol's armed, Aselrika's armed—even Ronel, sniveling on the ground, has her barrel pointed upward.
You're the only one still hesitating.
Unable to make a proper choice.
Even now that everything's crystal clear.
"........."
Yoon Na-rin gazes down at me desperately from my grip. I stare up at her impassively.
Amid the sea of hostility and fear filling the air, the last flicker of goodwill directed my way.
My chest tightens.
She always showered me with unconditional kindness.
Thud.
I release my hold, letting her down, then give her a light shove to send her stumbling back.
Yoon Na-rin starts to say something, but before she can, I turn and charge the heroes again.
"Gah!"
"Urk!"
As I personally escort the heroes away one by one, a surge of light engulfs me.
Crackle!
A pillar of light from Han U-sol's weapons.
I dodge and try to blast another hero, but more attacks pour in, forcing me to fall back.
Seizing the lull, Han U-sol bellows to the heroes.
"I'll handle this! Everyone else, focus on the frontlines!"
What?
"Fucking bastard."
My pride rears up.
Handle me alone? You dare?
Do I still look like the academy Anis Harper who handicapped herself by banning ranged weapons in spars?
Fine. I'll humor you.
You were going to blast me anyway.
I drop into stance and charge straight at Han U-sol.
Whoosh!
As my body surges forward, all eight pillars of light converge on me.
Crackle! Zzzap!
Dodge after dodge, but the relentless beams pursue without end.
Like living things with a will of their own, they curve back toward me even if evaded or deflected.
"This shit..."
Rare irritation surges.
I can't close the gap while evading the light pillars.
Just when I inch closer, he deploys a barrier to flick my strikes aside and retreats anew.
A memory from the academy days flashes by.
Sparring felt just like this.
If only I could get in close, I could pummel him freely—but I never could, and I'd always lose.
It pissed me off so much that I eventually slapped on that absurd no-ranged handicap and threw a fit.
Yelling like this.
Yo, you...
"Cowardly bastard!!!"
I draw my swords.
With massive gauntlets covering from shoulders to fingertips, I grip one blade in each hand.
Left: the nightmare that devours the night.
Right: the wolf that spits fire.
Slash!
I cleave the first light pillar into oblivion.
Slash!
One.
Slash!
Two.
Pillars slashed by the left vanish into the blade.
Those struck by the right disintegrate into black ash.
Slash!
Three, four, five.
No need for wide dodges now—the distance to Han U-sol shrinks rapidly.
His movements turn frantic. I can't see his face, but his panic radiates clearly.
And six.
Zzzap!
A light pillar grazes my cheek. I'd pushed too hard for momentum.
Light seeps into the gash, sharp pain blooming. This is bad. Even a trace of holy power is lethal to me.
"...?"
But somehow, no searing agony follows.
Just a faint sting from the cut—none of the wrenching revulsion that roots me out, no surge in hallucinations.
I tilt my head and trace the wound with a finger.
'No holy power in it.'
The realization hits quick.
The pillar was pure electric current, no holy infusion.
Grind.
I grit my teeth and glare at Han U-sol.
Why?
If you're not infusing holy power, what's the point of drawing weapons?
Didn't you choose?
Like me, deciding to abandon something for the sake of one?
Irritation boils unbidden, my gut twisting.
It feels like being dismissed.
As if I'm the only one fighting desperately here, while he toys with me half-heartedly, mocking my resolve.
My will to discard what must be cast aside amid cruel fate and harsh reality.
My frantic struggle to protect what's left, turning everything else to enmity.
All of it.
Is that not you?
Steeped in the hero's duty to safeguard humanity, do you have the leisure to hold back even against me, humanity's foe?
I...
"I'm this desperate."
I mutter, head bowed.
Han U-sol watches me silently, then levels his weapons and speaks.
"I've... always been desperate too."
His face remains blurred.
"Same as now."