Chapter 148
Chapter 148
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 148
Chapter Title: Hardenharts Truly Explodes
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The site where Number 8 and Krash faced off.
Krash's eyes blazed red.
"Do you know why I don't particularly like that imagery of yours?"
Number 8's feet stumbled back like she was retreating.
In the darkness below, Krash's eyes glowed red.
It was because the Heavenly Slaughter Star dwelling within him had encountered her imagery and begun pouring out its murderous intent.
Krash's imagery was an inky blackness.
An endless darkness that bound and bound again, dragging everything down into the abyss.
Infused with countless curses—layer upon layer—his imagery had already shattered by evening, its depths unfathomable.
Bottomless Pit
That phrase suited Krash's imagery perfectly.
The problem was that this imagery of his had encountered the Heavenly Slaughter Star and Knox, swelling to an even greater scale.
Number 8's hair stood on end.
Her face drained of color, turning ghastly pale.
"W-What kind of life have you...?"
As a corpse puppet, Number 8 drew far more from her imagery than from physical prowess.
This gave her the advantage of unleashing her true inherent power.
But it also meant she was acutely sensitive to her opponent's imagery.
Number 8 had assumed her imagery—forged over long ages—would dwarf Krash's.
She couldn't have been more wrong.
Krash's imagery had endured and swallowed an excruciating array of curses right up to the world's end. It dwarfed hers entirely.
"Anyone who gets overwhelmed in the clash of imageries loses their will to fight. There must be things out there even worse than me."
World Erosions in particular possessed imagery of extreme depth.
That was why Krash had chosen to prioritize realm over imagery.
If he faced an imagery far beyond his own...
The fatal gap born from that overwhelming pressure could be deadly.
As proof, while Number 8 stood frozen...
A storm of fierce Black Flame had already gathered around Krash's Thunderclap.
"And honestly speaking..."
By the time the storm reached its peak...
Ripples stirred in the deep lake of his mind, and dragonfire bloomed upward.
"It feels like it's exposing my inner thoughts, and that pisses me off."
Flame Annihilation ErosionFirst FormFlame-Quenching Blade Draw
Black Flame storm engulfs the target.
By the time Number 8 snapped out of it, it was too late.
The raging Black Flame storm had swallowed her whole.
Krwaaang!
Amid the Black Flame fierce enough to shatter the room, Number 8 tumbled across the floor.
Her body had frozen from facing Krash's imagery head-on—her delayed reaction had been her downfall.
Thud!
In that instant, her rolling body halted abruptly.
Krash had stopped her with his foot.
Number 8 realized she had dropped her staff somewhere.
Instead, Krash's Thunderclap was now aimed at her.
"Number 8, you know full well how dangerous what your master's trying to do is."
Neither Evelask nor Number 8 were fools.
When the power of World Erosion was extracted as an energy source vast enough to birth a god...
They knew it wouldn't lead to anything good.
Above all, Krash had witnessed it firsthand.
The being born from Ixion—not quite a god—that had turned into what monster.
"Neither Ixion's dream nor Evelask's will ever succeed. It'll only bring the worst possible outcome."
Arthur had thrashed desperately to stop Ixion at all costs.
Krash knew that without Arthur, the results would have been even more horrific.
So this time, it fell to him to stop Ixion.
There was no Arthur anymore.
'Tch, talking like I know everything just like Arthur—it's kinda irritating.'
You all don't get it, but I do, so I'll stop it.
Realizing he was acting just like Arthur, Krash clicked his tongue inwardly.
"So, just... trust me a little."
Krash sheathed Thunderclap and lifted his foot from Number 8.
"I won't let your master regret this."
"...I've felt it before, but you're a soft-hearted one, Sir Krash."
Number 8 pushed herself up, her helmet vanishing.
She donned a bunny headband from who-knows-where and spoke.
"I've certainly felt your concern for my master."
Number 8 knew, on some level, just how dangerous Ixion was—the one Evelask meant to approach.
As a corpse puppet capable of independent thought, she understood.
But Number 8 couldn't advise Evelask.
No matter her personal cognition, she was still a corpse bound to obey her master's commands.
"...At least more than some shady World Erosion, I'd like to trust you, Sir Krash."
With that, she slowly bowed her head to him.
"So, I ask you—please."
Seeing her respectful demeanor, Krash returned Thunderclap to his waist.
"Speak."
"Become my master's ally."
Number 8 hoped Evelask would no longer be chained to her past.
Hearing her request, Krash's expression said it was no big deal.
"We'll see how she acts."
A very Krash-like answer, and Number 8 finally smiled faintly.
"So, where is she now?"
This was the crucial question.
"Not far from here."
"Not far?"
"She's near the Hardenharts territory."
The moment he heard that, Krash froze.
He realized he had been near Evelask all along.
"Wasted a long trip for nothing."
Realizing it had all been for naught, Krash sighed.
But something felt off in that exchange.
Why hadn't she left with Ixion's underlings already? What was she doing there?
He glanced at Number 8, but she seemed clueless too.
She had just been tidying up the room.
Then it hit Krash.
A technique one of Ixion's men had used before flashed in his mind.
'No way.'
[Krash.]
At that moment, the Crimson Garden brooch lit up again.
Crimson Garden had stepped away to hunt down info on Ixion.
Answering her call, Krash lifted the brooch.
[Found the one who came to Hardenharts.]
Sure enough, she had the intel.
[It's the Mad Blade Emperor.]
Krash bit his lip at the words.
Damn it, just as he feared.
The Mad Blade Emperor, the lunatic who could summon World Erosions.
And the Erosions he summoned grew vastly stronger the tougher the opponent.
So the Emperor had planned this reversal.
To turn the Sword King—gathered at Hardenharts to subjugate him and Evelask—into a sacrifice for World Erosion.
"Haring, Number 8."
Krash called their names and turned.
"We're heading back. Now."
Hardenharts was in danger.
Before the North Sea Ice Pavilion of Hardenharts.
A man sat amid the snow-covered ground, sighing heavily.
With his ash-brown hair and striking blue eyes, he was none other than the hero of the commoners, Pelei.
He wondered what he was even doing here.
Truth be told, he hadn't uttered a single word during the meeting.
The masses might prop him up as a commoner icon.
But Pelei couldn't ignore the class divide.
Proof: amid nobles, royals, and even imperial kin, there wasn't much a risen commoner like him could do.
He was, at best, the student captain from the commoner ranks.
Honestly, the weight on his shoulders was crushing.
Growing stronger was one thing, but living up to responsibility and expectation? Far harder.
In the academy, the commoners essentially pinned all their hopes on him alone.
So he had to tread carefully, set an example.
Now that he was the face of the commoners, Pelei had no choice.
'Do nobles just handle this stuff effortlessly?'
The world was complicated.
To 16-year-old Pelei, it felt impossibly so.
That was why memories of the martial tournament surfaced.
A fellow commoner boy from the Night Crows, Clad.
What would that boy have done?
That boy embodied the "hero of the commoners" title perfectly.
Pelei swallowed a short sigh, the boy's hazy image lingering.
"...Clad, are you in Hardenharts?"
He had joined this mission with the Sea Whale Squad on Sigrin's orders.
Sigrin knew Pelei sought the boy called Clad.
She had tipped him off.
The boy Clad was the corpse of Evelask Benapoci—a key World Erosion search target.
Not clear if kin or corpse exactly.
But ultimately, she added, the boy knew Evelask.
Enchanted, Pelei had signed on.
Of course, his main task was observing this op and watching Charlotte closely for Sigrin.
Sigrin backed the academy commoners.
Without her, they'd be prey for the worst noble cliques.
"No clue."
Pelei looked up at the sky.
Was he too young? Or the burden too heavy?
The boy Clad, supposedly at the academy, kept coming to mind.
Along with another academy boy.
Dark blue hair, positions and ages worlds apart.
He stirred up constant incidents at the academy—overwhelmingly strong.
Krash Valheim.
For some reason, he kept reminding Pelei of Clad.
No obvious commonalities, save one nagging point.
Krash wielded a blunt sword, just like Clad.
Though vastly superior to Clad's technique, of course.
Lost in vague questions about their mysterious link...
Whoosh!
Pelei shot to his feet.
One corner of Hardenharts' sky was shifting to a yellowish hue.
This eerie sensation.
No doubt.
"World Erosion!?"
A World Erosion had erupted inside Hardenharts.
He was stunned.
Even within the kingdom's walls built by purification magic, Erosions happened occasionally.
But inside those walls, they capped at 4-star.
Yet the sky was turning yellow now.
Something was wrong.
World Erosion shouldn't manifest in the territory proper.
Pelei shook off his daze and hurried.
This wasn't the time.
He rushed into the North Sea Ice Pavilion.
Time to alert the others inside and mobilize.
That's when he bumped into someone emerging.
Striking dark blue hair.
Eyes so intense they daunted any gaze.
And more solemn than ever—her name was Charlotte Valheim.
The one called Sword Saint.
"Pelei."
"Lady Charlotte?"
"Get ready. A World Erosion has appeared."
Her words made Pelei's eyes widen hugely.
Charlotte had entered combat stance the instant she saw the sky.
As expected of Valheim.
Unlike him, frozen in shock, she moved faster than anyone.
"Hurry, or Big Bro'll snag it first."
But her follow-up bewildered him.
Charlotte's brother was none other than Valheim's vice patriarch, one of the Ten Heavenly Strong, Sword King Rai Valheim.
"W-Wait, Lady Charlotte—what do you mean 'snag'?"
"Bro's already on the move. Looks like he sensed it first."
Charlotte smacked her lips in regret.
Even genius Charlotte was a late bloomer.
She hadn't yet reached the world-recognized Sword King's level.
Eventually, her talent would bloom, and none could stand equal.
But time bound even her.
"Did Sword King say anything before leaving?"
"To stand by?"
"Then we should—"
The foe was a World Erosion.
Pelei knew full well he was no match—not even a warm-up.
So when he tried to dissuade her, Charlotte's lip curled into her signature grin.
"Pelei, want some advice?"
At "advice," Pelei flinched, but she kept smiling and stepped forward.
"Battles between the strong aren't something you see every day. Even I learn from them."
He couldn't deny that.
But dying makes it pointless! Pelei screamed inwardly.
Charlotte ignored him.
"Besides, we probably won't just stand by anyway."
She gazed at the yellow-tinged sky.
"A World Erosion means Erosion Beasts pouring out."
Pelei's face hardened.
Standing by here changed nothing.
Ending a World Erosion required slaying its master.
Sword King chased the Erosion master, leaving them to face the beasts.
"Don't worry. One Sword has a detachment stationed in Hardenharts."
Valheim's strongest knight order, One Sword.
With them, any Erosion could be held.
But Charlotte's advice went elsewhere.
"One Sword will garrison the North Sea Ice Pavilion, though. They'll prioritize the master."
"That means..."
"Yeah—who handles the other Erosion Beasts?"
Pelei's fists clenched tight.
Erosion Beasts turned villages to wastelands.
Ordinary folk stood no chance.
Exposed, they'd be hunted down.
And Hardenharts was mountainous.
Citizens in the hills would be slaughtered.
Pelei couldn't stand by.
He had entered Raheln Academy to fight World Erosions after his village was wiped out by one.
He had to save them.
Pelei's eyes shone with unyielding resolve—truly befitting the hero of the commoners.
"I'll take the Sea Whale Squad and move out."
"Good. Take Lion Squad too while you're at it."
Though Lion Squad captain, Charlotte placed little stock in it—off acting solo.
Pelei got it, exasperated yet understanding.
Precious few at Raheln could keep up with Charlotte.
'Maybe just her little brother.'
Recalling Krash—who had faced Vice Professor Kairan—Pelei moved.
Charlotte glanced at him, then strode off.
Her pace quickening.
"My idiot little brother."
No telling where he was, but she needed to find him quick.