Chapter 278
Chapter 278
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 278
Chapter Title: One Empire, Three Legends (37)
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Narrow, dark single-room apartment. Bedroom.
Ding-! Ding-! Ding-! Ding-! Ding-! Ding-!
Unceasing notification chimes.
=========
- blliard74: Shit! Wow, shit! Fuck! Damn! Wow!
- TorontoTorontoToronto: If anyone brags in front of me about making money off rankers now, I'll rip their fucking mouth open. Even when I first tasted canned tuna in three years, it didn't feel this satisfying.
- siuox2000: There's something moving about Professor's playstyle.
- kirin: Make Empire Great Again!
=========
[Chatroom: 47-19 (Meat for the Generator Club)]
Drip.... Drip....
Tears fell from the eyes of a gaunt man clutching the cracked screen as if he might crawl into it. One corner of the screen illuminating his dim room showed a nonstop chatroom buzzing away and a man in the ruins of the imperial palace, receiving the emperor's banner reduced to ashes.
The man, Professor. Real name, Park Professor.
To him, that man was the sole light and idol in this hopeless world.
It hadn't always been that way. Before the apocalypse, he was a cynical finance company drone, and after, just another bottom-feeder scraping by as a daily GG grinder with no real skills.
To him, the wasteland was violence, and the Dome was just another layer of violence squeezing people dry. He hated the Dome, and the rankers backed by them were nothing but bourgeois scum buying loyalty with cash.
So, he stuck to toxic, penalty-only playstyles.
People becoming clowns for others because they lacked money.
People for whom time five times slower than reality meant five times the labor, chopping wood and mining ore, turning GG into another painful reality. Watching them gave him bitter comfort: at least I'm not the only one living miserably.
Ding-! Ding-! Ding-!
But what about Professor?
Like an old tale of two mice trapped in a milk pail.
Just when he was giving up his flailing in that depressed sigh of comfort, human Professor kept swimming and thrashing in the exact same dead-end situation.
While the surrendered mouse sank, the struggling one churned the milk to cheese and climbed out alive.
"Hic, h-heuk...."
Look at that mouse now, out and alive. No one in the wasteland—from rich to poor, leaders to criminals—could deny that feat. A shower of admiring text fluttering like petals over a laurel wreath.
He never thought he'd respect anyone in his life. Not some flat photo from a vague biography, but a living, breathing man of his generation, even younger than him.
Rustle-
The man pulled out a flyer made from recycled paper handed out by ragged folk earlier that day.
=========
[We want YOU! Come! Church of Light – Wasteland Diocese!]
Do you feel powerless?
Do you think this is it, your limit?
We have a nest for you like that – right here!
A nest, but not a sanctuary!
A foothold for survivors not to waste their remaining lives!
Live! We shall live! My clinging life proves it!
(Former) 'Professor Praise Fan Club' reborn as an officially registered religious group in the Dome, thanks to the support of many!
We don't praise gods. What we revere is survival itself—that they endured until now!
The beacon who proved it possible by carving that harsh path himself: human Professor!
Yes, we're a cult! We gathered to admire one man's life and ideals!
If you think like us. If you haven't given up on life yet, and don't want to!
Message us now!
[Weekly Wednesday Refugee D Sector Meeting]
[Light lunch (tea only if no rice) & Barter Exchange]
[Healthy-limbed men have high chance of BDSM enlistment test]
[Very slim chance of Dana Elishia Hyacinth visit]
[Bex regular visits]
Inquiries: 'Roharam's Monkey Spanner' PM.
Donations: 'Roharam's Triangle' PM.
=========
As they said, more fan club than religion.
But even strangers felt familiar. Even for someone like him, inept at socializing and averse to groups. Even living in E-rank refugee zone where mutant compound drugs traded openly... with people like these....
....Tap.
His hand slowly typed the flyer's ID. As tension, joy, and the glee of shared fandom lit the timid man's face.
----Ding!
=========
[Warning. Fatal error. External broadcast terminated.]
[Warning. Fatal error. External broadcast terminated.]
- TorontoTorontoToronto: What the fuck.
- blliard74: Hey, my stream cut out. Don't tell me it's unpaid electric bill?
- Gorimi: Mine too? But I'm inside the Dome, no way that's it?
- TorontoTorontoToronto: What!
- Gorimi: Waaah! Turn the stream back on! Cutting off here!
- blliard74: Turn it back on!
=========
[47 Sector Chatroom]
========
- Jokasss: Suddenly cut out.
- Heung An Mandu: Turn it back on.... Without the stream.... It's too lonely here....
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Checked hotline, not a broadcast issue.
- Take a Look: Then what?
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Dunno. Admin doesn't know either. Just suddenly, game cut off.
- Deer Drug Please: ???
- Jokasss: ???
- Soy Sauce Gaybar: Fuck. Bex bro's gonna rage-quit again.
=========
[47-3 Chatroom]
[47-19 Chatroom]
[Chatroom: All-New Coop]
.
.
.
.
Ding-!
[Warning. Fatal error. External broadcast terminated.]
With the message appearing before every viewer's eyes, all streams showing Professor vanished.
"Wh-what! Why suddenly.... Professor!"
Flutter!
The man flung his flyer and searched frantically everywhere.
But nowhere did he find anyone still watching Professor's stream.
****
========
- Professor: Hey, guys! What're you doing!
- Professor: What're you doing! Who should I give this flag to!
=========
"....What?"
A flag. The empire's next imperial house symbol, a pitch-black banner scorched without pattern.
The emperor used his final freedom to secure the imperial citizens' safety and spite the witch, then went coolly to the dirt, handing all remaining authority to me.
Basically, emperor's full proxy. Just crush the witch and proclaim a new empire, and I'm the top founding merit of this vast land.
Problem is, in this chaos, who to crown as new emperor. Pondering that, I asked the chatroom....
=========
- Professor: Hello? Jokasss? Deer? Dana? Gay! Guys!!!
=========
Suddenly mute as if honey-tongued, no one spoke.
Private messages dead.
Chatroom dead.
There was static noise when I received the flag—something major glitched then.
"What.... Don't tell me raptors invaded outside. Or terrorists infiltrated admin, half the building collapsed, and unluckily my login pod got hit, cutting connection?"
[Eh, no vibrations or anything on my real body side.]
"....But testing showed this mutant flesh super sensitive. Not explosion or terror then. Real bug?"
Suddenly cut off from outside. Even I can't help feeling uneasy, but not a situation to calmly investigate.
Boom- Crunch!
The emperor's power the witch coveted vanished. Meaning most of the power blocking curse flower growth went with it.
Withered curse flowers blooming across the capital exploded in growth, some ripping up thorn vines pillar-thick, unfurling massive petals over the city.
"The sacrifice ritual curse broke, right?"
[Per your head knowledge. 'Curses manifest man-to-man regardless of power: target, catalyst, caster.' Catalyst fully bloomed as you see. Caster a century-old witch. But core target emperor evaporated, so nation-scale curse fizzled incomplete.]
"50 years buildup wasted at the end.... No wonder she's raging."
『Aaaah-! Aaaaaaaah!!!!』
Far off, a scream from one side of the capital. Curse flowers exploding there showed the witch was close.
New emperor selection.
Sudden login cut.
Psycho witch.
[....What now?]
Professor eyed the silent chat, empty flag, curse flowers creeping toward his feet, then answered.
"Learned something here."
[What.]
"Sometimes, overthinking ruins things."
Login issue unsolvable here anyway. Aside.
New emperor first or witch first....
Founding needs myths. For legitimacy inheritance, new emperor helping crush witch smooths empire handover, but witch's rampaging over her 52-year project ruined by me....
"....Shall we borrow Mr. Metaljaw's method."
[....Huh?]
Professor turned back to the emperor's ash pile amid ruins.
Gaudy cloak and robes already antique centuries old. Jewels still gleaming between.
Round imperial seal.
"....You dragged me in, old man. Guide to the end."
Ting-!
'Ckckck! Coin toss! All-in on Lady Luck!'
Grinning at oil-scent memory, Professor flicked the emperor's seal with his thumb.
Heads: lion face, new emperor first.
Tails: complex magic engraving, witch first.
Whish- Whirl- Whish- Whish-
Crack-!
As the spinning seal hit ground, Professor's palm slammed it down.
The force embedded the seal before the ashen emperor.
Professor grinned at the ash pile in imperial garb, seal inlaid in stone floor.
"....Your call. Don't blame me if it flops?"
Direction set, now move.
Stamina recovered but one arm still missing from storm, Professor bolted from the palace.
In the collapsed palace center, the emperor's embedded seal.
Tails.
****
"Kyaaaaah!"
That time, likewise Capital All Amperia, near imperial palace.
"Shouldn't have come, shouldn't have! Ignored that risk option!"
Lucilla regretted for the 152nd time following emotion over reason.
Good until over the walls. Explosions and screams everywhere, but none near her, and the stone golem's legs between cliffs paved with countless knight corpses—whoever went first cleared the path.
'This.... Second prince's seal? Knights split: guards one side, second prince's other.... Second prince overreached! Direct emperor assault to force throne!'
Far at main gate, blasts and storms showed hero at front. She was at east gate, running could join, but.
'What I can do isn't fight! Something here! Big, shiny golden mountain! Feels that way!'
Instead, she chose corpses into palace.
Result.
Rumble-
Boom!
Thud!
"Waaaah! One failure ends it! Life bankrupt! Hero! Notum! Aldrich! Help!!!"
Now dodging rain of stones and pillars amid real-time collapsing palace center.
Long inside, following mirage old city paths deep.
Mysterious guidance spurring her gone foggy, golden aura too. Lost, just running.
Dust-covered Lucilla thinking 'My legend ends this pathetically!' when.
Crash!
"Hahk, haa- B-basement? Basement! Ro Haram El Samia Tenebria Da Karja Amis! Whatever god saved me! Thanks! I'll donate if I survive!!!"
Amid crumbling building, she hurled herself at mirage basement door, invoking five archons.
Clunk.
"....Huh?"
Clunk clunk!
"L-locked?"
Door wouldn't budge despite pushing pulling.
Above straining Lucilla, a whole snapped spire shadowed.
Clunk, clunkclunkclunkclunk!
"Please, pleeeease!!!!"
As shadows engulfed, Lucilla desperately yanked knob.
"Move!"
Slash!
A shadow figure cleaved thick door, shoving Lucilla inside.
Hair's breadth, two diving in amid debris.
Boom-!
Rolled in clutching head, as roar faded Lucilla turned to savior.
Identity obvious. Dank basement dust stench, now fresh forest air wafting.
Lucilla dove into blue-haired elf's arms.
"I-Idrasil~! You came to save me!!! How'd you get here?"
"....That's my line, Lucilla. I asked you to stay put in the holy city's camouflage barrier."
"Hik!"
"Good I followed your voice, or you'd be dead. How'd you get here? No offense, but you're useless in combat."
"Um...."
Unlike usual calm, stern tone made her hesitate. Couldn't explain. Unknowable certainty? Golden pull? Merchant instinct?
Problem: even now, faint pull lingered. Not as strong, but familiar. Like first meeting Professor with caravan. Precious item sensing as merchant.
"This place defies understanding. Chased Professor, he vanished suddenly, left alone in illusion city. Felt solo, then your scream. Empire capital full of- "
Tap tap tap-
"Shh, Idrasil, wait. Think it's here."
"....Explanation needed."
"Why I had to come. Here it is."
Catching breath, surroundings visible. Dim light silhouettes.
Worn beyond worn, yet exquisite craft worth fortunes.
"Here.... Warehouse? Ow! Ugh.... Armory?"
Lucilla winced at sharp fingertip pain, advanced.
Weapons centuries abandoned, yet razor-sharp at touch.
All stocked arms no ordinary gear.
And center, the item thrilling her merchant sense.
Dust-whitened sword amid filthy arms.
Heavy for one, huge, lion-head ornate great curved blade.
"Th-this...."
"Lucilla?"
"It called me, Idrasil! History-book legend! First emperor Lion King Agdan I opened empire skies with it, shared fate: Lion Sword, Lionel! R-real. Not ceremonial replica, the true one lost even to empire!"
Sword sharing first emperor's fate, vanished after opening-heavens destiny.
Lionel.
Unfound, unused since Agdan I, legend's sword sharing emperor's final fate—now before them in mirage-city basement.
With ancient founding arms. Sky-opener slept among them. Lion Sword Lionel.
"....Ugh, uuuuh! Risk!"
Grab!
Sensitive Idrasil dared not approach, as Lucilla bit lip, eyes shut, gripped hilt.
No glow, no spectacle.
But tiny miss lifting that greatsword? Eerie.
"Lighter than thought? Pricy stuff different?"
"That's.... Beyond sword, like ancient spirit.... Don't handle so casually...."
"Dunno! It called me! Sure! Legends say no one touched it? Agdan I lent to subs when needed!"
"But...."
"Pfft, whatever! Priceless relic before us! Dragon heart trade-worthy, merchant can't pass overwhelmed!"
"Uuum...."
Not the point, but Lucilla already sheathed Lionel, tore dress hem to belt it, so Idrasil shut up.
"Let's go, Idrasil!"
"Go where."
"Find buyer at true value! Empire crumbling to witch dust, symbolic palace collapsed who-knows-why! This lionsword: legitimacy symbol! Succession proof! Demand exploding now!"
"So, who."
"Uh.... Him? Legend!"
Hummm-
As Idrasil sighed thinking Lucilla mad too, sword hummed response.
"Th-this way! Feels like!"
"....Sigh. Understanding humans impossible for elves...."
"Hm? What?"
"Nothing. Let's go."
Idrasil's odd face learning 'resignation' as.
Clunk!
From palace rubble, water spirit-lifted rock gap, two shadows escaped toward capital.
Violet ash skies, curseflower-covered earth spreading.
....Hummm.
[Sword House, Schwarz Clan. Sword Grave.]
"House lord! Th-the sword! 'The Lord's Sword That Returns Not'....!"
"....Night air ominous as thought. Old oath's day is today. Wake the kids. Time to gear up."
[Long-ruined territory. Execution ground.]
Boom!
"This axe.... Heh. Empire, still tasks for this old husk....? Heh heh heh.... Let's see if these bones can swing it."
[Forest. Moonlit pond.]
"Narim. This...."
"Stay calm. Unfinished business always returns. Arrow come, just grab bow."
[Glen Ducal House]
"Muto! Muto where!"
"H-here....! Dawn, just closed eyes briefly-"
"No bullshit, to grand archive, fetch that!"
"That? You mean...."
"That one, fool! Oldest, too worn to discard: the codex!"
[Storm Hill. Wandering Mage's Hometown.]
"....What ill wind now. Hey, you sleeping.... Ah, you."
"Yes. What at this dawn."
"Gather handful wind. Need visit capital."
"Capital....?"
"Yeah. Scattered long, but seat's owner once broed with emperor. Tenants repay."
Humm-
Hummm-
East, west, south, north.
Ducal houses to nameless barns.
Emperor's death scattered empire power.
Not yet witch's. Pure pacts between emperor and individuals.
Forces bound by empire frame, emperor's name—scattered to corners, reclaiming forms, seats.
Humm-
Hummm-
"Ugh! Kid! Know you're precious, but gotta carry like this! Quiet down!"
"....Lucil. Swords don't speak human."
"Uuum.... Thought legend sword understands words."
Hummmm-
Amid Lucilla's grumbles. Lionsword at her waist wept ceaselessly, guiding scattered lights.
To capital. Empire's birth- and end-place.
And rebirth-place!
****