Chapter 66
Chapter 66
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: A Gentle Farewell
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Carlyle saw it.
A hazy shape being dragged away somewhere...
It was likely Crowley's soul, and the unidentified beings that took him were perhaps emissaries, dragging the wicked to hell.
Of course, Carlyle neither knew nor cared where Crowley had been taken.
‘He couldn't have gone to a good place, not with the sins he's amassed.’
But that was enough for Carlyle.
That Crowley would suffer eternal, unending agony even in death.
“…What is it?”
Carlyle, turning away from Crowley's corpse, was startled.
The weight of everyone's eyes, friend and foe alike, fixed on him was unnerving.
“You… what are you?”
“What about me?”
“That just now. What was that?”
Selena rushed over and demanded of Carlyle.
“What do you think? You should know better than anyone.”
“I’m asking what exactly it was. That power just now… I just don’t…”
Selena wore a look of utter confusion, as if she couldn't comprehend it at all.
It wasn't as if she didn't know about the Blood Seal Awakening.
She was the first among Grand Duke Guntram's children to achieve it.
“Why? Am I not allowed to have a Blood Seal Awakening? The blood of Sigmund flows through my veins too.”
“That's not what I mean.”
“Then what?”
“It's hard to put into words.”
Selena looked troubled.
“You know, right? Over the past few hundred years, thousands of our ancestors have achieved the Blood Seal Awakening.”
“Of course I know.”
“Then you must also know that there are records for most of the abilities, right?”
“I know.”
“There must be nearly a thousand different abilities. Since many of them overlap.”
“I suppose so.”
“But your ability…”
“You've never heard of it?”
“Right.”
“Then that must mean I'm the first Sigmund to awaken this ability. Simple, isn't it?”
“That may be, but… sigh.”
Selena let out a deep sigh and squeezed her eyes shut.
“Forget it. Let's just drop it. Talking to you is just going to sour my mood.”
“It was already sour.”
“What did you just say?”
“Nothing.”
“You said my mood was sour.”
“If you heard me, why ask?”
“This little…!”
A fire lit in Selena's eyes, then quickly died down.
There were far too many eyes watching.
Within the Sigmund family, they could argue or pull each other's hair out, but this was a battlefield.
They were soldiers before they were siblings, and wasn't Selena a high-ranking officer in the Decaron army?
She couldn't get into a scrap with her hooligan of a little brother in front of everyone.
Doing so would surely damage her dignity as a high-ranking officer and cause her to lose face.
Not that Carlyle had anything to lose.
‘You just wait.’
‘Do your worst.’
As Selena threatened him with her gaze, Carlyle responded with a bored look that said, "Go ahead and try," before turning his head away.
“Charge!”
“Everyone, chaaaarge!”
Just then, the warriors of the Butcher Tribe began to flee.
“Honestly.”
Carlyle shook his head as if he couldn't believe them.
The barbarians had a habit of shouting “Charge!” when they fled, usually when the tide of battle had turned against them and they faced annihilation.
While dying in combat was considered an honorable death, being unilaterally slaughtered in a losing battle was seen as a dog's death, so they would flee.
But if you were to ask why they shouted “Charge!” while fleeing, it was purely a matter of pride.
The barbarian warriors were a people famous for their unyielding spirit and belligerence.
From their perspective, fleeing was so damaging to their pride that they would at least shout “Charge!”
It was also famous that when a continental asked why it was a charge, a certain chieftain had confidently left behind the memorable quote, “A charge to the rear is still a charge.”
But while they might have invaded on their own terms, their charge—that is, their retreat—would not be.
*Rumble, rumble, rumble!*
The ground began to vibrate, centered on Evangeline.
*Crack, craaack!*
The earth split open, and a wall dozens of meters high erupted, encircling Bowden Fortress.
“...!”
The barbarian warriors were greatly flustered by the sudden appearance of the wall.
A wall too high to leap over even with Thunder Leap had risen, making it impossible for them to continue their charge.
* * *
“No one will escape.”
Selena swung her Succession Sword, Asrada.
“V-Valhal—kuh!”
“Gyaaaah!”
As if she had never been growling at Carlyle, Selena lived up to her moniker, the "Valkyrie of Blood Flowers," and wiped out all the charging barbarian warriors.
Just as she had wiped out Crowley's undead army with a single stroke, it took Selena mere seconds to "butcher" the Butcher Tribe.
Only one enemy remained.
The chieftain, Jarkan, who had been captured by Maranello and was being forcefully taught some manners.
“Salute. Sir Maranello. I am Lieutenant Helen, commander of Bowden Fortress.”
“Sir? That's too much. I laid down my sword long ago. Now, I am but a butler serving the Sigmund family.”
“B-but…”
“What is it you wish to say, Lieutenant Helen?”
“I want to be the one to cut him down.”
Helen glared fiercely at the groaning, fallen Jarkan.
“Hoho. It won't be easy. Are you sure?”
Indeed, Jarkan had lost ‘none’ of his combat prowess.
Though his nose and mouth were smashed, all his teeth were gone, and he had some minor bruises, his limbs were intact, and his stamina was still sound.
“It doesn't matter. He is the one who killed my subordinates. Please allow me to execute him with my own hands. I beg you.”
“There's no need to beg.”
Maranello gave a wry smile.
He, too, was a man who had spent decades fighting barbarians.
Maranello likely understood Helen's current feelings better than anyone.
“This is Lieutenant Helen. She wishes to execute you.”
“Yuh… dam… bish…”
With all his teeth knocked out, Jarkan growled with a slurred, lisping voice.
“If I die, you will be allowed to leave here alive. I promise.”
“An yuh expeck me ta believe dat?”
“Brigadier General Selena. Please. If he wins, I'd like you to just let him go.”
“Permission granted, Lieutenant Helen.”
Unlike with Carlyle, Selena readily granted Helen's request.
“Favoritism.”
Carlyle pouted, but Selena paid him no mind.
“Pick up your weapon, barbarian.”
“Yuh'll regred dish.”
Jarkan picked up his weapon from the ground and growled at Helen.
Soon, Helen and Jarkan clashed.
The duel unfolded with Jarkan overwhelming Helen from start to finish.
Jarkan surpassed Helen in every aspect—power, speed, and experience.
Despite this, Helen somehow managed to continue the duel.
Just as Carlyle had, she was kicked in the chest by Jarkan, sent flying, rolled on the ground, and even with a broken leg that made her limp, she did not fall.
“L-Lieutenant Helen!”
“Damn it all!”
The soldiers stomped their feet, anxiously debating whether to intervene.
The difference in skill and strength between the two was that great.
So much so that it wouldn't have been strange if Helen had been torn in two at any moment…
Yet in such a difficult duel, Helen fought against Jarkan with ferocious tenacity and focus, walking a tightrope on the border between life and death.
Then, at a certain moment.
*Shunk!*
Helen's sword thrust up from below, pierced through Jarkan's jaw, and exited through the back of his head.
It was a perfect strike that exploited an opening in Jarkan's defense.
*Shlick!*
Helen pulled out her sword.
*Thud!*
Jarkan's massive body crumbled.
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah—!!!”
A thunderous roar erupted from the soldiers' mouths.
* * *
*Grind!*
Helen gritted her teeth so hard they could have shattered, using her sword as a cane to push herself up.
She was an absolute wreck.
A white bone protruded from her broken leg, blood gushed from long gashes on her back and thigh, and a constant stream of blood poured from her mouth.
“Lieutenant Helen!”
“Are you alright?!”
The reconnaissance team members were the first to rush to Helen and support her.
“Medic! Mediiiiic! What are you doing, you bastard!”
Begman, who was particularly close to Helen, hurried the medic while trying to check her condition.
“Private… Russell… cough!”
“Yes, Lieutenant Helen.”
“Cut off the enemy commander's head… cough! And hang it on the fortress wall… along with the flag of Decaron… to show that our army has won… cough! Cough, cough!”
“Understood!”
Russell hurriedly darted over, hung Jarkan's head on the fortress wall, and then raised the flag of Decaron.
*Flutter!*
A timely gust of wind caused the flag of Decaron to flutter powerfully.
“Fuck yeah! We woooooon!”
“We won! We won!”
“We're victorious!”
The soldiers all roared, reveling in the joy of victory and the relief of survival.
But amidst the celebration, there were those who did not smile at all, and Carlyle was one of them.
Carlyle neither shouted in victory nor felt grateful for his own survival.
Instead, Carlyle approached Gwen's body and gazed down at her.
Her functions as an undead had ceased, but her eyes were still wide open, and her face was grotesquely twisted, bearing no trace of the bright, gentle person she had been in life.
Furthermore, despite having only recently become undead, decomposition was rapid, and dark death spots had spread across her skin like a disease.
“…”
Carlyle couldn't bring himself to say anything, looking down at Gwen with a heavy, complex heart.
He was confused.
So much so that he himself couldn't understand the emotions he was feeling…
*Peek.* The hatchling poked its head out.
“Butler.”
“…”
“Butlerrrr.”
“…”
As the hatchling continued to call him, Carlyle answered in a low voice.
“I'll feed you in a bit. Don't talk to me right now.”
But it seemed the hatchling wanted something more than just food.
“Was that person a close friend?”
“No.”
Carlyle shook his head.
“Just someone I knew. We only exchanged a few words.”
“But does your heart hurt?”
“Not that either.”
How could his heart hurt when they weren't even that close?
They were merely acquaintances.
“Then are you troubled?”
“If I had to put a word to it.”
“Hmm.”
The hatchling pondered for a moment, then spoke.
“If you feel that way, Butler, should I help that person rest easy?”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
The hatchling spoke with uncharacteristic seriousness.
“I can send her off on her final journey, peacefully, to the heavens.”
“How?”
“Like this.”
*Fwoooosh.* The hatchling breathed out towards Gwen's corpse.
*Fwoooooooooosh.*
A beautiful, green flame resembling new foliage enveloped Gwen's body.
“What is this—”
Carlyle, thinking the hatchling was about to cremate Gwen's body, was startled, but then he realized something and fell silent.
*Sway, sway!*
The heat of the flames didn't seem capable of burning anything at all.
Far from feeling any heat, it was as soft and warm as a spring breeze, a temperature that could lull one to sleep.
*Fwoo, fwooo.*
The hatchling continued to breathe its flame onto Gwen's body, as if with great care.
Then, a surprising change occurred.
“...!”
Gwen's body, engulfed in the flames, began to lose its grotesque and horrifying appearance, gradually finding peace.
It was as if she were returning to how she was before she became undead…