Chapter 75
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Feathers of the Swan
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Watching the demon's creations plummet down like rain, I swallowed my irritation.
I'd barely finished slicing through the magic beasts, and now more annoyances were piling up.
‘And they're even stronger.’
I closed my eyes and sighed.
[Hell Gate]
A means to temporarily summon a high-ranking demon from the demon realm into the present world, along with its creations.
One of the powers possessed by demons, akin to corruption.
‘But it should require a lot of preparation.’
Bielle's descent from the demon realm was supposed to happen around the time the protagonist's party left the academy.
To think she'd already completed the preparations before the tunnel even arrived.
The unexpected turn grated on my nerves.
"Nothing ever goes right, damn it."
I'd prepared for the tunnel, and now Bielle—who was supposed to show up later—pops out with it. The demon realm descent, which shouldn't overlap with the tunnel, happens at the same time.
Dragging things out is one thing, but when crap keeps popping up like this, even players just curse.
‘Catching these things again...’
Looking at the grotesque creations falling, a visceral disgust narrowed my eyes alongside my irritation.
They looked like humans crumpled and molded like clay.
Setting aside their freakish appearance, they were pointlessly strong, making it a hassle to hold them back like before.
If it were just killing them all, fine.
But trying to cover with a long, needle-like rapier was too inefficient.
"Should've grabbed the sword I left at the estate."
The one I had now was Aiden's favorite, but it was a rapier meant for training—its only merit was durability.
It couldn't compare to a combat weapon layered with blessings and enhancements.
‘The problem is I left it because it's such a pain to store.’
Made by pouring in all sorts of rare materials, it was closer to a demon sword than a magic sword, unfit to leave at the academy.
I should've worried more about my own armament instead of just the students.
"Guess I underestimated this."
"Underestimated? Professor, did you? Well, you've been like that since we first met."
My appearance hadn't changed much since the battle began.
My clothes were a bit disheveled, some dirt smeared on, but for someone who'd fought a fierce battle, the gap was huge.
"You can tell how little the professor cared about his surroundings, right? Haha, Professor Aiden is..."
Bielle twisted her body in the air above, as if it were all amusing.
"Never spared a thought for others mid-battle, huh?"
"......"
"You're fine, so you dodge any attack, parry it, ignore it. Just attack, attack."
"......"
"No one has ever survived without being pierced or run through by that rapier, right? That's all you've ever seen. Same now."
Bielle spread her arms wide.
Her utterly amused expression really got under my skin.
"If the professor had ignored those worthless students and pressed the attack, how long could we have lasted against you?"
"......"
"I guarantee you, it would've ended long ago. All of us turned into cold corpses on this ground. Haha!"
Bielle cupped her cheeks with both hands and grinned widely.
"Professor, thank you. Thanks to your pathetic compassion wasting time on those ragtag students, I could safely descend from the demon realm."
The corners of her mouth curled up as she spoke those words of apology, eventually drawing a long arc.
"And sorry again. Now, those students you're trying so hard to protect? I'll kill them all."
So the professor can savor a half-hearted victory on this barren field littered with fallen students, unscathed as ever...
Bielle couldn't finish her sentence.
"...and."
"Pardon?"
A youthful voice tinged with confusion.
In stark contrast, I scowled.
"And? So what changes?"
"Heh..."
Bielle looked at me with interest.
"So, am I tired now? Or do you think you'll win?"
There were students I wanted to protect, people.
As Bielle said, ignoring them would've ended it ages ago.
‘So I should give up?’
Whether they're protagonists is secondary.
Beyond that, I'm a professor, and I protect my students.
Obvious.
"Hmm..."
Bielle's smile deepened like a collector eyeing a fascinating antique, the creases around her mouth growing richer and more profound.
"You're right, even with this situation, I don't think I can beat you. However..."
Bielle trailed off playfully before turning serious, her eyes gleaming.
So what?
"I've bought myself time to escape, and you still can't protect the students while dealing with my summoned creations."
Isn't that a default loss already?
Bielle giggled.
‘Default loss.’
It might've been, if it were just me.
Looking at Bielle's smug face, I turned my head.
In the distance, figures approaching with lights lit.
My faint smile crossed with Bielle's hardening expression.
"Doesn't seem like it."
A gray-haired girl shrouded in shadows waved vigorously at me.
Hoping her voice would reach, she shouted so hard her body swayed.
"Profeeeessor! We're here!"
Those hidden in the shadows emerged one by one.
The Martial Arts College professor wrapped head to toe in bandages, the Magic Department folks staggering but somehow arriving.
Even the magic tower mages in white robes.
A half-elf clutching a gnarled wooden staff.
A blue-haired woman exuding confidence despite being soaked in fatigue.
A spearman in exotic garb, barely walking with support.
But more than that.
At the forefront of the group stood the gray-haired girl greeting me.
Magic beasts and creations still blocked their path, keeping them from closing in easily, but our eyes met clearly across the distance.
Isel stopped firmly and looked at me.
"I kept the promise."
Her clear gaze directed straight at me drew a hollow laugh.
The group aimed swords and wands at the magic beasts and creations.
Mages erected barriers, professors unleashed their signature moves.
United as one solid unit, they bore wounds and weariness, but their eyes burned only with rage and resolve.
Not a trace of fear.
Feeling awkward watching, I turned my back.
They're nothing special. They wouldn't help much anyway.
As reinforcements, the foes blocking me were far too much for them.
If I fell, they'd drop like harvested sheaves.
"Profeeeessor! Leave the rest to us! You..."
"No need to say it."
‘Not helpful, my ass.’
Now I could finally fight without worrying about lives.
Huge help.
"Good work."
Isel widened her eyes at my voice.
I looked at Bielle.
She glared back, thoroughly displeased.
"...They're no real reinforcements anyway."
The Hell Gate pulsed.
As if their arrival meant nothing, it spewed out monstrous horrors.
Among them, demons without mouths rivaling earth dragons in size.
Boom, thud.
Just crashing down kicked up towering dust clouds.
Creations boasting bodies hundreds of meters long, armored in rigid flesh.
Covered head to toe in hard shells, and even ripping those off revealed muscles-packed sturdy frames that repelled swords and spells alike.
Shells made of magic.
Not easily pierced or slashed.
Even I wasn't much different.
‘Gigantes from the mid-to-late game.’
Bielle shouted triumphantly.
"So what if they arrived? Think that'll turn the tide? If you just step aside, they'll all be crushed!"
Gigantes were why Bielle could smirk like that.
Upper creations demons made to exterminate humanity.
Devoid of pain or fear, Gigantes obey orders steadfastly until death.
‘Unmatched when placed at the front lines.’
Designed to withstand enemy attacks, their damage resistance was beyond imagination.
Considering demons once led wars with these at the vanguard, calling them war machines fits better than mere creations.
And there were three of them.
Murmurs of fear spread.
As the magic tower lord stepped up to calm the unrest, I raised my sword.
I couldn't rely on her here.
They needed to know who they were looking at, who they were trusting.
"Hoo..."
I exhaled the hot breath filling my lungs and stood tall with composure.
When heavy night skies press down on the day, light gets swallowed by the dim darkness.
A cloudless, clear night sky.
Fearing the monsters might spot it, the capital's night emitted no light, unlike the pastoral glow of the countryside.
Only a blood-red moon scattered its eerie glow over the coiled darkness.
My inhaled breath scattered into the air, tracing my exhale.
The colorless night, tinged with the moon's red afterglow, draped surrounding colors in shadow, spotlighting a single moon.
A ruby-like moon, as if weeping blood tears cursing its birth.
Under that ominous moonlight, a glow began to bloom slowly.
Pure white.
Brilliant yet not blinding, radiant enough not to shun the dark.
Not a light pushing back darkness, but a cozy white embracing even shadows.
A scene projecting Aiden's imagery exactly, contrasting the night sky as it flowed across the ground.
"Wha—?!"
A puzzled voice rose from the ground where white aura bloomed.
The reason Aiden equated feathers to his aura.
Before becoming a master, Aiden's sword remained consistent.
The swans by the lakeside he'd seen when his family still lived.
His imagery stayed with those swans, who made harmony a virtue against the sunset.
Rapier fencing demands striking and withdrawing gracefully without yielding flesh.
Light as a feather, brushing close yet untouching.
Untarnished by countless strikes, scattering proud white radiance—like being unwittingly entranced.
Not merely born white, but a self-forged pure glow.
A white struggle blooming amid the earthen ground.
As I manifested my aura, I let out a short admiration inwardly.
Treading Aiden's sword exactly, his life's essence was blending into mine.
‘So that's it. Is this what your sword is?’
Even with a few blood drops on white feathers, the pure wings remain unaffected.
Nothing stays pristine from birth, so no one escapes life's shadows.
Born white, one can still soil in living, splashed with filth.
Stains come naturally with time's tempests; dodging doesn't evade them.
But it wasn't that I was less pure than before.
If soiled, clean it off; if stained, strip it away.
What matters isn't how much filth past or future might bring.
Simply, in this moment, if I can uphold my brightest...
Wouldn't that complete my purity?
Feathers weave feathers, woven feathers form a shape.
Unspoken, the sight evoked one bird unanimously.
A swan.
Its soft, plump body blended with nature's scene, striking as elegantly graceful.
No white brought could surpass that swan's harmony with the world.
None gentler than those feathers tinged faint black in the dying day.
And those elegantly spread wings of noble hue—unrivaled by anything.
Aiden's rapier looked similarly graceful.
Aiden's white harmonizing with the night sky.
Untarnished pure white radiance scattering proudly, gradually blending with darkness.
As if soft feathers buoyed from below, all eyes fixed on my back.
I merely showed them my broad back.
If this darkness terrifies, pains, and you're about to despair...
Look at me.
Follow or falter—your choice.
But if you choose to follow.
In my mind, I pictured the gray-haired girl.
"Look at me."
I'll show you.
My rapier pointed at Bielle.
"Won't turn the tide, you said?"
"...You're too playful. Even so, I..."
"No, this will be very different from before."
Now I'll focus solely on you.
Silver-like feathers erupted from my sword.
Whoosh, swirling feathers floated around me.