Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: The Unchanging Man
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Charlotte's secret art might just do it, he kept thinking.
Yet deep down, there was still a lingering knot of unease.
Thud!
The sound of the Thousand-Faced Ghost's footsteps echoed once more, leaving him no time to dwell.
"If this fails, we're all dead."
"Yes, so until I'm ready, brother, you'll need to hold its attention."
"Hoo, damn it."
In the end, Belokin decided to bet on Krash.
Forget everything else—first, survive.
That was his sole focus.
Thud!
The footsteps grew closer, the intervals shortening before he knew it.
Proof that the Thousand-Faced Ghost was nearly upon them.
"I'll prepare."
In that moment, Krash drew the sword he'd brought.
His eyes closed, and soon after, aura began to rise slowly from his entire body.
He sank into the realm of Sword-Mind Unity, where his spirit merged as one with the blade.
Seeing this, Belokin's eyes shook violently.
Torrential rain pouring down, swamp water rising to his waist.
And the oppressive presence of the Thousand-Faced Ghost closing in.
Despite all these distractions, Krash had instantly entered a state of perfect focus.
That's what shook him.
What kind of concentration is that?
How could it be this intense?
Belokin suddenly felt his heart pounding wildly.
A bad premonition crawled up from the pit of his stomach.
And moments later, that premonition proved true.
A brilliant azure glow bloomed over Krash's sword.
At first, it was just a handful of aura.
But the aura layering onto the blade soon left Belokin aghast.
The quantity wasn't overwhelming.
Just around low Expert level.
But its quality was on another plane entirely.
A pure, crystalline aura that he, even after decades of training, could never hope to achieve—fully embodied in Krash's single blade.
That realm was so profound it blew Belokin's mind in an instant, leaving him utterly bewildered.
Even if it was a secret art from Charlotte, how on earth...?
His heart began thumping wildly again.
No.
This can't happen.
Not like this...
"Brother."
His limbs went numb, blood draining from his face.
At that moment, Krash's voice rang out.
Krash's pale blue eyes held nothing but serenity.
"I'm counting on you."
Realizing what he meant, Belokin raised his hand.
"R-Right."
The instant Belokin infused Ignis onto Krash's aura,
Ignis
Blazing fiercely, far clearer than before
a vivid blaze roared to life, worlds apart from his own.
The sword of roaring flames seemed capable of incinerating anything in its path, making Belokin feel infinitesimally small before it.
Thud! Thud!
Meanwhile, through the sheets of rain, the Thousand-Faced Ghost came into sharp view.
Its absurdly massive form charging forward was enough to instill terror on its own.
Could he really buy time against that?
The thought had barely crossed his mind when—
"Brother, it's fine."
Krash's voice reached the tense Belokin.
"We have more time than expected. You won't even need to draw its attention."
Hearing those words, Belokin felt something heavy drop in his chest.
Krash meant it out of concern, but it sounded like he was utterly unnecessary.
All he'd done was lend a divine skill—Ignis—to Krash.
And even that power belonged to the divine, not truly his own.
So what was he even doing here?
As that thought filled his mind,
Krash slowly raised his sword overhead.
Belokin's gaze followed it upward.
The Ignis-infused blade blazed brilliantly, undimmed even in the downpour.
Its flames burned fiercer than when Belokin wielded it, making the rain-soaked Belokin look all the more pathetic by contrast.
That sword would surely fell the Thousand-Faced Ghost.
The power dwelling within it was undeniable.
But what would become of him the moment it struck?
Belokin had accomplished nothing against the beast.
Just rolled in the mud and fled in disgrace.
Yet Krash would cleave it with his own power.
That meant...
It meant...
I'm beneath Krash, didn't it?
The half-wit runt locked away in Green Pine Pavilion.
If even he surpassed Belokin, what worth did he have in the Valheim family?
"Ah... Aah."
Belokin's rain-chilled lips trembled violently, turned blue.
Better yet—fail to cut it.
Don't bring down the Thousand-Faced Ghost.
Forgetting even his desire to live, Belokin wished desperately.
But like shattering his final hope, despair plummeted from the heavens.
One Sword
For a brief instant as Krash's sword swung down, the pouring rain halted.
Drip... Whoosh!
When the deluge resumed belatedly,
Rumble...!
A sharp rending sound echoed through the air.
As Belokin's vision stretched forward, there stood the Thousand-Faced Ghost, bisected diagonally.
It crumbled into the flames without so much as resisting, engulfed from the slash.
Witnessing this, Belokin's heart crumbled in tandem.
Thud—
Belokin collapsed bonelessly.
The whole world pointed to his inferiority to Krash.
"Brother, it's over now."
In that moment, Krash's clear voice reached his ears.
As if sensing its master's death, the rain tapered off, and the swamp began to recede.
Soon, sunlight pierced the clouds, illuminating Krash's face—radiant and bright.
It was no longer the face of a half-wit.
The face of one marching forward.
By contrast, Belokin's visage hid in the shadow of that glow.
"Ha, haha."
A hollow laugh escaped him.
Slowly, Belokin began to rise.
His mind was a chaotic whirl of thoughts.
But one truth stood clear.
Krash had surpassed him.
And he was the greatest trash in the Valheim family.
Realizing this, Belokin gripped his sword.
Krash was exhausted from that one strike.
It had been his all-out effort—Belokin could tell easily enough.
"Die."
So without hesitation, Belokin swung for Krash's neck.
His ruined face twisted into a gleeful grin at the thought of slaying the runt who'd toppled him.
Clang!
But what he felt wasn't the bite of severing flesh—instead, the clash of steel on steel.
"Haha, ngh."
A stifled laugh reached Belokin's ears.
His eyes snapped to Krash's face, where the man stared back with a cruel smile.
"Belokin, thanks for not changing a bit."
He couldn't comprehend the words, but Belokin realized it then.
A pitch-black energy was rising from Krash's body.
"What—"
As the startled Belokin tried to pull back his sword and summon Ignis,
no flames rose from his blade.
When Belokin grasped this, one eye bulged wide—and Krash smirked mockingly at him.
"Looking for this?"
Black energy coiled along Krash's sword, birthing pitch-black flames.
Belokin's eye widened in horror as he recognized Ignis.
"What did you— you bastard, what have you done?!"
Belokin shouted in panic, and Krash shook the water from his hair.
Then, casually, he swung the sword at him.
Slash!
Stunned by Krash wielding Ignis, Belokin failed to block the unexpected strike.
"Aaaargh!"
His chest gashed open, Belokin rolled across the ground amid black flames.
"You know, Belokin? When I was really little, I wanted to get along with my brothers."
As he screamed in agony, Krash began walking toward the Thousand-Faced Ghost's corpse.
"But no matter how hard I tried, you hated me with a passion. All because of that fragile pride of yours."
Then Krash sliced off a finger from the beast's cursed arm.
Skewering it on his sword, he turned back.
"Still, since we shared blood, I held out a sliver of hope. That maybe you'd accept your little brother in the end."
Even through the searing pain, Belokin heard Krash's voice clearly.
"But thankfully..."
When Krash arrived right before him, he smiled down just as he had at first.
"You never made that choice."
As Belokin opened his mouth to scream,
the Thousand-Faced Ghost's finger was shoved inside.
"Mmph! Guhk!"
Belokin wailed as the finger forced its way in.
But Krash merely gazed down coldly.
Soon, Belokin realized his last remaining eye was melting away.
He thrashed wildly upon understanding, but it was too late.
Not just his eyes—nose and mouth eroded completely.
"Guh... glrk!"
A gurgling from his throat reverberated.
Desperate for air, he writhed on the ground.
"Hurts, doesn't it?"
Krash looked down, his voice devoid of laughter now.
"When you burned my face, I rolled around just like you."
The day Belokin had scorched his arm—and ultimately his face.
Krash hadn't been able to open his eyes until a saint healed him.
So he offered Belokin no mercy.
As ragged gasps faded with his weakening breaths, silence finally fell.
Krash exhaled lightly and looked up at the sky.
The clear blue after the rain was disgustingly pure.
Pity his heart could never match that clarity, even with the clouds gone.