Chapter 198
Chapter 198
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 198
Chapter Title: Last Trial (2)
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The Chrisanax family was a humble herding clan clinging to the farthest edge of the empire.
The closest comparison would be the Campbell Barony I'd visited before.
A peaceful barony ruled by a baron with a gentle demeanor, unlike Dawood Campbell, who stirred up waves wherever he went.
Eliya's parents had a similar impression.
Kind neighbors. Respectable adults. To some, irreplaceable family.
The first memories that came to mind when thinking of her hometown were a sky so piercingly blue it hurt the eyes and endless green meadows stretching forever.
A deep blue under the faint moonlight, extending without end.
‘...Ah, this.’
It's a dream.
A scene so unmistakably clear that she had no choice but to recognize it.
Grasses swaying in the hilltop breeze, the cry of a newborn calf from yesterday, friends playing together, her mother's voice calling her down from the hill for dinner.
Those memories. Those recollections.
“...”
Eliya stared at her house atop the hill with dead eyes.
She knew exactly what would happen next.
With excruciating clarity.
“W-What's that?”
“Flames?”
From the neighboring village half a day's walk away, something rose into the air.
A red aura shot up from the distant sky.
A conflagration.
A massive pillar of fire visible even from afar.
The prickling heat that made her hairs stand on end was vividly remembered, even in the dream. The blazing flames scorched the sky itself, casting flickering shadows around.
She remembered exactly what she'd said then.
“...Oppa?”
She didn't know why she'd said it.
But even a child with little knowledge must have sensed it instinctively.
The ominous aura rising from that pillar of fire. The foreboding that her entire life would be twisted apart.
So.
She had unconsciously called for the person who was her greatest pillar of support in the world.
“E-Eh? Ehhh?”
“It's getting bigger?”
If it had been a pillar from some explosion, it would have surged once and quickly died down—that would have been fortunate.
But even as villagers gathered one by one, sensed the abnormality, and finally felt anxiety turning to terror.
That pillar of fire remained fixed in place.
Red light from the flames scattered into the darkening surroundings.
As if the sky itself had been dyed red.
As if the entire night was being swallowed by crimson flames.
“Eliya!”
She remembered her parents, seeing the same sight, moving at once.
With confused expressions, they rushed toward her to protect her.
Even with minds unable to grasp the situation, their resolve to safeguard young Eliya was unshakable.
Regardless of what was happening, they descended the hill with all their might.
Her mother, usually frail, stumbled and fell repeatedly, yet paid it no heed.
“...”
Eliya watched it all with dead eyes still.
“Eliya!”
And so.
With her father and mother desperately calling her name.
It 'began.'
This moment was always the most agonizing.
Because it was a dream, she couldn't even close her eyes.
-!
-!!
Something popped out from the pillar with a 'poof.'
It engulfed everything.
Vegetation burned. Other children around her were swept into the flames without even a scream. Daisy, with whom she'd built sandcastles just yesterday; Hans, who had confessed to her with that foolish grin; the baker who always smiled kindly and gave her extra bread.
All of them.
Turned to ashes and vanished.
“...”
Those who disappeared in an instant without a scream were perhaps the fortunate ones.
The stench of burning flesh filled the air. Screams that could tear eardrums and buckle knees echoed everywhere.
Parents died. Children died. Cries begged to save mothers. Pleas desperately implored to rescue children.
Misfortune poured down.
In mere seconds, the idyllic, peaceful village was utterly destroyed.
“...”
It was a dream.
Yet nausea welled up.
Eliya collapsed unknowingly, hugging her trembling body and gazing at the sky.
The pillar of fire.
That colossal calamity dyeing the entire night red.
“...”
And within it.
Though so far away.
A human silhouette in the center of the pillar caught Eliya's eye.
Crimson hair like blood above its head.
Long, claw-like nails.
Slit pupils like a reptile's, yellow irises.
The moment their gazes met, only one word came to mind.
“...Demon.”
The witching hour.
The moment the red night began.
Her memory of that scene always faded to black there.
●
She jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat.
In the accommodations provided by the Holy Kingdom near the site of the final trial. The luxurious bed was soaked with her sweat.
Eliya panted, wiping her face.
So much sweat had poured out that it slid off like a translucent film.
Her heart raced. Her head throbbed, vision spinning.
“...I haven't had this dream lately.”
She hadn't dreamed it much since meeting her teacher.
Strangely, being near him put her at ease in every way.
Yet in the Kendrid Margraviate, she'd dreamed it almost nightly. How odd.
“...”
And the reason for dreaming it again was obvious.
Recently, she'd seen something reminiscent of that inferno once more.
Feynol.
Feynol Lifek.
The woman who exuded the vibe of a red demon.
“...”
If that woman truly was the vessel for that demon.
Then her mortal enemy was right nearby.
Verifying it was simple.
Just use the Eye of Truth awakened by Kkwonseong to look at her.
An ability that pierced demonic presences more accurately than anything. It would instantly reveal what lurked within Feynol's body.
The reason she hadn't.
“...”
Eliya looked down at her trembling hands.
No doubt about it.
She still.
Feared that demon.
The demon that had upended her entire life in a single day.
“...It's okay, Eliya.”
She would overcome it soon.
The final trial was imminent.
If she could wield the 'holy sword,' she could confront it somehow.
Eliya rose with a resolute expression.
The conferral ceremony was hours away.
Time to prepare.
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[Quest Info]
[ Main Quest ]〖 Chapter 4 - Witching Hour 〗
[ Related event will occur soon! ]
She switched to another window.
[ Gift-Related Character Alert ]
▼ Feynol Lifek
[ Trust Stage 3 ]
[ Until related event: D-1 ]
“...Hmm...”
She stroked her chin, scanning the string of messages.
She knew it would blow up eventually. This guy's rampage was inevitable—no surprise there.
The problem was.
‘...Why tomorrow?’
In the original story, the incident was supposed to happen today, right on the holy sword conferral day.
Interacting with Feynol and raising affinity had delayed it, sure—but the deadline was today. No reason for it to drag another 24 hours.
[As if things ever went according to your plans. Variables popped up again, so just improvise like always, right?]
“No... This time won't be so easy.”
A three-fragment demon's rampage followed a different trajectory. Minor variables were tolerable, but a full shift in timing? Unacceptable.
“...”
If there was a guess.
Only one.
[Forerunner?]
“You know it well now.”
Whenever crises loomed, it forcibly ramped up the 'difficulty.'
The only reason for derailing from my knowledge? Definitely that thing.
He sighed, surveying the bustling surroundings.
Originally, inside the Holy Kingdom's grand temple.
‘...Plotting something again, huh.’
That pope bastard was like that. As scheming as me, if not more.
Refusing to let people in? Definitely some conspiracy.
“...”
Anyway.
Speculating on that could wait.
What mattered now was elsewhere.
“...By the way, Kalliban.”
He narrowed his eyes at the Soul Linker.
“You scheming something?”
[No?]
“...”
[What scheming? Paranoid much?]
He silently glared at the cheekily evasive response.
No odd vibes. Just the usual Kalliban.
But.
“...We're connected mentally, right?”
[So?]
“I can sense your mental state to some degree, just like you can mine.”
[...]
“But... you feel way different from usual? Hiding something?”
[Your imagination.]
“...”
[Imagination. Got proof?]
None.
Suspicion, but no evidence.
“...Tch...”
He clicked his tongue and stood.
Main quest was breathing down his neck.
Prioritizing countermeasures against the Forerunner's approach was key.
“...Just don't do anything too crazy. Got it?”
[Sure.]
“...”
No scheming, he says.
You mad bastard.
●
Seras Evatrice stared blankly at the person before her.
Truth be told, a complete stranger. Never crossed paths before.
Calling it a 'person' was laughable.
The other had introduced themselves as a dead human already.
“...So, your name is...”
[Valkasus.]
“Eek—!”
Valkasus's eyes narrowed as Seras leaped back, tears welling up.
[...You, with that grandiose title of Grand Assassin.]
A rebuke at her pathetic display, but Seras trembled on, undeterred.
“W-What's wrong with a Grand Assassin fearing ghosts?!”
[...You've killed enough to fill a cemetery...]
“But I can't kill you!”
[...Anything you can't kill is scary?]
“Yeah!”
[...]
Trembling, yet her answers were crystal clear.
‘...What a straightforward criterion.’
Stab with a knife, dies? No fear. Stab, doesn't die? Terrifying. That was it.
No wonder she'd been so compliant since they met.
[...Anyway.]
Valkasus sighed deeply and continued.
[The reason I came is simple. Simple, but grave.]
“Huh?”
Valkasus laid out Kalliban's 'plan' to her smoothly.
“...”
The more she heard of the 'message.'
Fear faded from Seras's face.
Replaced by utmost seriousness.
“...Yeah, this is pretty serious.”
Seras muttered, eyes narrowed.
“The Red Demon rampaging?”
[Yes.]
“...”
Then they had to stop it.
[Probably sent to the others too.]
“Others?”
The demon vessels, right?
But per Kalliban, a more efficient term here...
[The other women around Dawood Campbell.]
“...”
[Crisis is opportunity. As you can tell, that man will bungle through unscathed again. So, lend a hand.]
“...Hmm. Hiring us?”
[In form, yes. Compensation differs, though.]
“Huh?”
[It's a contest. The most helpful one gets to do 'good things' with him.]
“...Good things?”
[Whatever you want. Sleep with him, even.]
“...”
Spare me the enlightened ravings.
But reconsidering.
A question mark appeared on Seras's face instead.
Something smelled off.
Would Dawood agree to that sort of thing?
“...Did he say that himself?”
[He gave up weaknesses that'd make him.]
“...”
[Not physical subjugation, but winning his 'heart.' What everyone ultimately aims for.]
Long-winded, but.
Dawood's own will was conspicuously omitted.
“...No, doing this without the man's input is...”
[Fine if another woman snags him?]
“...”
[Refuse, and plenty will act on those weaknesses. That tribal chief's daughter you fought recently might swoop in.]
“...Provoking me?”
[Exactly. Imagine it. Truly okay?]
Intentions transparent. Cheap provocation.
But.
“...”
Seras closed her eyes briefly, imagining.
That blue woman smugly clinging to Dawood's side before her eyes.
Herself trembling, watching.
Those two in front of her—biting, sucking, embracing, finally merging—
“...Who do I need to kill?”
The cheap provocation worked wonders.
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