Chapter 147
Chapter 147
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 147
Chapter Title: Room of Dreams (4)
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Kudo slowly came to his senses.
But even after he regained his reason and saw the scene unfolding before him, he couldn't grasp the situation for a moment. Even though he was aware he was under the influence of the Ashen Cloak.
Because there was a tree so massive he couldn't see the whole thing even when he lifted his head.
A tree from which golden particles fell like molecules.
At the base of the tree lay a lifeform collapsed—one that even he, who had faced all sorts of Creatures, was seeing for the first time.
In front of the lifeform stood Hildebert.
A somewhat young-looking rookie.
The one dressed in ragged clothes, with something like ash spilling from beneath a cloak-like garment, was looking at the dead lifeform with joy.
Muttering incomprehensible words.
‘ΔΦΧΤΥΥ! ΔΦΧΤΥΤ!’
What the hell is he saying?
It was a sound he couldn't even guess at. The rookie was bouncing around, making noises that meant nothing. Jonathan Kudo stared blankly at the unexpected sight for a while, lost in the illusion.
Until the joyful rookie staggered toward the massive tree.
As the vision of the young rookie walked forward, people came into view.
It was Hildebert, climbing the stairs with blood streaming from his leg.
“…You!”
Kudo's eyes widened as the thick scent of blood hit him.
It was obvious who had stabbed him with the sword.
The man pushed himself up using his arms on the stairs, then staggered toward the limping Hilde.
‘βδεΛ.’
His voice kept coming from afar.
‘ΗΘΕΔΔ.’
The illusory rookie in the vision knelt before the tree, stepping over the Creature's corpse.
Kudo didn't even glance at the golden seeds pouring down over Hilde like a rush. He rushed to the real Hildebert, firmly grabbed the one trying to climb the stairs, and frantically searched his clothes.
Black Badger uniform.
There was a tourniquet in the pocket.
Kudo ignored the tree roots starting to writhe and began tightly binding the rookie's leg.
“Damn it, hold still.”
Kudo grumbled lowly at the resisting rookie.
Of course, there was no reply. By now, the young Hilde in the illusion was practically buried in golden seeds.
Jonathan Kudo couldn't make sense of this illusion at all. Not the roots wriggling toward the apparently praying rookie. Not the golden seeds cascading down over him like a waterfall.
Is he from some remote core?
He'd heard there were cores that didn't use the common tongue. Maybe he'd encountered some strange Creature there.
He had no way to know the answer, and no time to care.
Right now, he needed to get this fresh-faced rookie with low recovery out of the building. His recovery wasn't even as good as his recruits'.
Even after losing quite a bit of blood, Hilde's wound wasn't healing easily.
Jonathan Kudo bit his lip. Even if he blamed it on the Ashen Cloak, the fact that he'd inflicted the wound didn't change.
But guilt was a luxury for after survival.
Holding tight to Hilde, who kept trying to climb the stairs, Kudo kicked his good leg.
Thud!
He quickly scooped up the falling rookie.
Despite the fierce resistance, he ignored it and descended the stairs.
Veins bulged on the arm gripping the railing to keep from tumbling.
Beyond his careful steps, the background shifted with a faint breeze.
‘Hilde!’
It was the only word he could understand.
‘ΕΆΓΔΥΦΦ!’
It was someone with curly white hair and yellow eyes.
He saw the illusory rookie turning to look at him. Hilde, now an adult. His white hair reached his waist, flowing wildly. The spiky white locks contrasted nicely with his tanned skin.
…What a weird outfit.
Not just Hilde, but everyone around him was dressed oddly. Hilde stood before people in orderly rows, all clad in silver armor.
They all had swords at their waists, too.
And yet, it all felt strangely natural. As if everything the rookie was feeling was being shared with him.
The sight of beloved comrades.
A swelling pride and affection in his chest.
‘ΨΧΧΨ?’
Long-haired Hilde flashed a long smile and replied lazily.
‘ηθΔΕΔ.’
Thud!
The men tumbled onto the stairs.
Hilde's struggles suddenly intensified. Kudo let out a small groan as he righted his fallen body.
His clothes were soaked in blood. Not his own—the rookie's.
The rookie coughed a few times, then crawled up the stairs.
He was sobbing profusely.
“Ray.”
A word that seemed like a name slipped from Hilde's mouth.
“Ray. I'm sorry, I…”
He knew it was his comrade's name.
A distance calls wouldn't reach. Kudo walked up the slippery, blood-slick stairs toward the rookie. Catching up to the limping rookie wasn't hard.
Just right, without breaking anything. He struck the back of the opponent's knee once more.
This time, he reached out and caught the body before it hit the ground.
“…Let's go.”
You have people waiting for you. He muttered to himself as he lifted the wriggling Hilde.
Ironically, the scenery shifted right in front of him, distracting his gaze.
Kudo ignored it. He couldn't understand the words anyway, and he had to focus every nerve on descending the stairs without dropping the resisting Hilde.
As if mocking him, understandable words rang out.
‘Live together with them?’
The long-haired man glared coldly at Hilde sitting across from him, seething with anger.
‘Ever thought about living normally mixed in? Make some sense. Cameras everywhere. In every human's hand, store ceilings, streets! You know what the internet is? Still don't know what SNS is?’
‘Calm down. It was just a hypothesis.’
Hilde replied calmly.
They were speaking English now. The long-haired men sat on chairs overlooking a white sandy beach, conversing.
A handsome man with jet-black hair let loose. Hilde, with his white hair tied up, sitting opposite.
No one else around.
A dazzling horizon stretched out. A blue sea full of sparkle. In that eerily empty place, Hilde spoke slowly.
‘It's been fine so far.’
‘You kidding? Why do you think it's been fine? Because they have something to gain from us. Because we showed them hope they can't refuse.’
‘I know.’
‘But this fragile balance won't last. You feel it too, right? It's the endgame.’
‘Yeah.’
‘You don't think they're optimistically expecting peace, do you?’
Hilde fell silent, taking in the sea for a moment.
The rookie carefully broke the silence.
‘No. But…’
‘We can win. What's there to fear?’
‘I've told you several times.’
Hilde's voice rose now.
Jonathan Kudo could feel the anger and fear in his voice. Even as an auditory hallucination, the emotion pierced the listener's skin.
Hildebert's upper body leaned toward the curly-haired man.
He stared straight into the man's golden eyes and shouted.
‘Why can't you grasp the situation? Kyle, face reality!’
Thud!
The men rolled down the stairs again.
Good timing. Kudo thought. Thanks to tumbling down, they were even closer to the first floor. No time to waste. He sprang up without surprise.
He approached the rookie scraping on the floor and scooped him up.
The resistance was weaker now, as if his energy was draining.
‘Failed again.’
The surroundings shifted once more, and Hilde appeared, face buried in his hands, looking up at the ceiling.
Before him sat a pair of men and women holding cigars.
On the glass table in front of the sofa where Hilde sat was a cigar too. One in the ashtray that looked like he'd smoked and set down.
People in a luxurious private room.
‘Again.’
‘Humans have long lifespans. What was his name?’
‘Colton.’
When the woman with crossed legs asked in a seductive voice, Hilde replied in a choked tone.
His posture reeked of defeat.
‘Colton Wiseman.’
‘Should've taken care of him when he was young.’
The man with his back turned, face unseen, muttered like to himself.
‘When his faction was still insignificant…’
Thud. Something hit his foot.
Looking down, he saw a shattered smartphone. Latest model, released last year.
That guy's?
The screen was completely smashed. Probably from when he kicked it away.
Guilt flooded his chest, and Kudo gripped the wriggling rookie tighter.
The wound still wasn't healing. He couldn't even dream of pulling out the sword. For a normal Badger, it would've closed the moment the blade was removed.
Disturbed, Jonathan Kudo quickened his steps down the stairs.
The sign guiding to the first floor drew closer.
Even then, the background changed, and Hilde's desperate voice echoed.
The illusory rookie was pleading with someone.
‘Please, Ray.’
A voice so desperate it tugged at the listener's heart.
‘Please, think it over one more time…’
‘Hilde.’
The one in the strange silver armor.
The young man with white curly hair looked down at Hilde kneeling at his feet. While Hilde clutched his right hand.
In a dark room.
The man standing in the bluish darkness lowered his gaze and whispered.
‘ΥΦΥδεζΔΕΖΗ. ΦΧΨθΦεχΕΔΡΠαβΰρπρΕΛ.’
An unfamiliar language.
Probably the rookie's native tongue. As those words poured over his head, Hilde looked up.
Golden eyes widening wide in the darkness.
Kudo read despair in the rookie's clear eyes looking up at the man called Ray.
Despair and terror.
A grief so deep he couldn't fathom its depths.
The background shifted again.
Now it was short-haired Hilde.
‘This?’
‘Yeah. Give it to someone who can handle it.’
The rookie, face full of exhaustion, gave a wry smile.
He handed a long package to a woman with sharp, pointed eyes.
A splendid chandelier glowed above the man and woman.
‘Can't turn back now.’
Countless emotions in those golden eyes.
From that heavy emotion, Kudo read regret. He couldn't fully understand all the scenes he'd seen. Why Hilde argued with his comrade. What failure he meant. Why he knelt and begged before who seemed a friend.
Even so, he knew Hilde had made an irreversible decision.
And that this rookie could never be free from it.
‘Deliver the sword, Jiyeon. To the one who can wield it best.’
It was a painful scene to watch.
No violence or blood, yet just looking made it hard to breathe.
Kudo started running. Clutching the sobbing rookie tight. He bolted toward the nearing front door.
Don't die.
He ignored the following illusions and voices. Even his late wife's voice—he let it pass. He wanted to pull this peculiar rookie out of his painful past right now.
Because he knew how agonizing an irreversible choice could be.
Hadn't he himself thrashed in an inescapable past every moment?
Rings and faded mementos. Unforgettable ones and forgotten ones.
Jonathan Kudo ran through the illusions.
He smashed through the glass door and burst outside.
Tearing vision.
Fresh air flooding into his lungs.
His phone began to ring.