Chapter 40
Chapter 40
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 40
Chapter Title: Play (5)
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The crumbling piles of rock and snow walls gradually subsided.
The roar of the avalanche, fierce as a storm, faded into the distance. In its place came an oppressive silence that beat against their ears.
Only then did the reality sink in—this was finally over.
I carefully set Astier down from my arms.
While I massacred the escort knight and the elites, Astier had taken on the task of eliminating Red Star's leadership.
And in the previous battle, the explosion from the palace had been the signal.
The signal that she had wiped out all the leadership.
Her near-fatal wounds hadn't fully healed, which had me worried, but it looked like she'd pulled it off.
Not surprising, really.
Astier had survived lethal injuries at the auction house and the dismantling yard before, coming back alive in the end.
She'd taken the wounds for the act, but managed the risks perfectly.
Her capabilities were anything but ordinary.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
A short reply.
The Empire's vast lands stretched out below the mountain ridge, quiet as if a storm had swept through.
Amid the debris, fragments of the shattered stone palace lay scattered like evidence of the fierce battle they'd just endured.
I caught my breath in silence, checking my condition.
My palms were burst open and red, my wrists scraped here and there, my breathing ragged, two fingers unresponsive.
To drag Fail along more reliably, I'd offered my right hand.
But now, belatedly, I wondered if I'd overdone it.
Offering anything else didn't make sense, though.
Legs would ruin my mobility, and an arm carried too much risk.
In the end, it came down to the hand—something I could manage the risk of.
'At least it went according to plan.'
The swordsman's creed that their life was in their hands had been decisive.
If not for that, he would've bolted immediately.
In the game, his pattern of sacrificing the escort knight and fleeing was utterly disgusting.
I finished the emergency treatment on my right hand that I'd started mid-battle, then turned to Astier.
Astier lay sprawled on the snow.
A few snowflakes clung to her eyelashes, sparkling.
Blood staining her face, she looked up at me and gave a small smile.
"Live burial works wonders. When the palace collapsed, I really thought you were dead."
"Didn't expect the avalanche. Sorry. Dragging him along just in case was part of the plan."
"No. It was fun. Flying through the air, free-falling, then braking with aura energy. Who else gets to experience that?"
I turned my head without a word.
It was a first for me too.
I'd tried it on pure instinct, and things worked out, thank goodness.
One slip, and either of us could've died without surprise.
"......Honestly, I was impressed. Really. You're on another level."
A snowflake fell onto her cheek.
Down in the collapsed ravine, in a massive snow pit, only the two of them remained.
Through the swirling snow, the faint outline of the ruined cliff was visible.
Buried on all sides, it felt like they'd been trapped in another world, utterly still.
Astier murmured.
"Haa... It's been a while since I felt this refreshed."
Still lying in the snow, she slowly drew in a breath.
She flapped her arms lazily, pushing the snow away.
Covered in debris and blood, she'd never looked so peaceful.
"Saying that with a face like yours kills the conviction."
"Yeah. I don't even know what I'm saying."
She rolled onto her side, scooping up a handful of snow.
Gazing at it in her hand, she spoke.
"Seeing that sight... everything feels pointless now."
Silence hung between them for a moment.
"Ian. You said we should open up to each other."
Those words. That voice.
It caught me off guard.
I hadn't expected to hear it again like this, almost as if by some promised clock.
I'd thought I'd be the one to bring it up first.
Her expression when I'd proposed it had been unreadable, her answer hard to predict.
"...Yeah. So, now?"
"No."
Astier smiled.
A playful glint in her eyes.
"We look a mess right now. Talking here feels... off."
"Then when?"
"Once we get out of here. After a proper wash, change of clothes, a meal... when we look human again."
"I'm fine like this."
"Hm, knew you'd say that. But still, not now."
Astier pulled a candy from her pocket.
Her gloved hand trembled.
Exhaustion, probably—her fingertips wouldn't straighten properly.
The candy was cracked into pieces from the impact.
She handed me the largest shard.
"...Three days. Let's make it three days from now."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The avalanche had settled.
Bodies of the escort knight and Red Star's leadership, caught in the disaster I'd unleashed, were being discovered one by one.
Astier had carried out her assignments flawlessly.
No one rose from the dead.
The Empress had yet to issue an official response.
Three days passed, and the day Astier mentioned arrived.
I'd taken her words as just needing some fresh air.
Opening up was much the same.
So here I was, standing in the middle of a bustling passageway for some reason.
Astier approached from afar.
"Dressed up, huh."
Astier, always striking, had put extra effort into her appearance today.
Her deep navy coat, simply styled with subtle ornaments that caught the sunlight.
"First date and all. Wasn't sure, so I dolled up. How do I look?"
"Date?"
Astier tilted her head, pondering my words.
"Hm. Wasn't it a date invite?"
How she took my silence, I couldn't say.
She smiled in response.
"Even if it's my misunderstanding, doesn't matter. I'll be your guide today."
Astier led the way as if she'd been waiting for this day.
First up: a puppet show.
On a small stage in the square's center, puppets jerked along long strings.
It was a hero tale.
In simple terms: a commoner single-handedly slaying Great Beasts on the Northern Frontline.
Hard to believe it was for kids—brutally vivid.
A night with the knight commander.
Puppets dying heroic deaths.
The protagonist slaughtering every Great Beast to become a hero.
"Who's it about?"
"You. Look at that puppet. Fierce eyes—kinda like yours, right?"
I narrowed my eyes.
Yeah, the eyes and jawline did resemble mine.
But something was off.
"No scar, though. That's your charm."
"?"
"Oh, you know? Kids these days dream of being like you."
Astier pointed to children dashing through the street.
Wooden sticks in hand, standing in for swords.
They swung clumsily, play-fighting with blades.
I had nothing to say.
"..."
Next: a candle shop.
Candles of various colors and scents lined a small craft stall.
"Birch and ginger. Smells like winter."
"Sensitive to scents?"
"Lit candles when I couldn't sleep as a kid. House was too quiet—too many thoughts."
I quietly picked up another.
"This one?"
She sniffed, then shook her head slightly.
"Not my taste. Good materials, bad mix."
"Really? I like it."
"Hm... actually, great combo. Right up my alley."
"Wasn't your taste a second ago. What's that mean?"
"Means it matches my taste. Nothing else."
They hit a street vendor too.
Simple setup: hurl wooden knives with yarn tufts at targets.
Hit the target, win a prize—whatever that was.
Astier aimed seriously; I watched, arms crossed.
"Curious about Astier the swift assassin's knife work?"
"Sounds weird."
"No misunderstanding. Just my throwing skills."
She flung the knife.
The target toppled backward.
Astier hit every one.
Prizes: a worn puppet and blanket.
"Convinced? Pretty persuasive, huh?"
I clapped briefly.
Astier dangled the puppet playfully.
"Your turn now. Wanna try?"
No need to think.
I grabbed a knife and threw.
Unlike her, I infused it with wave energy.
All targets toppled from the wind pressure alone.
"... ."
The shopkeeper eyed me strangely.
"Unprecedented record. Hit how many at once... nah. Anyway, nice."
Passed on the prizes.
Sunset crept in as they wandered.
Twilight dyed the streets red; people headed home one by one.
Astier stood by me, satisfied.
"Just the play left."
"Play?"
"Haven't said? We're seeing a play now. Favorite troupe."
Astier glanced back, walking ahead.
"You'll like it."
The play: a boy born on the battlefield dies as a warrior.
Curtain fell; actors bowed and exited.
Applause in the seats faded; the hall filled with quiet breaths.
In this world, did the gloom seep into art too?
"Fun. Thought it'd be light. Heavier than expected."
"Back half had good emotional beats, though."
Astier said, smiling softly.
They left the theater.
Walked in silence for a while.
Darkness blanketed the streets; sporadic lamps cast red glows.
Lines from the play echoed in my head.
I spoke quietly.
"...That last scene in the play. Remember?"
"The boy's line?"
"Yeah. 'I'm not a victor. I'm a survivor who lost and lived.' That one."
"I remember."
"Stuck with me."
She stopped.
Gazed at the sky a moment, then turned to me.
"Ian. When you saw through my act, you asked if the play was enjoyable."
I nodded slightly.
"...Truth is, not at all."
The words flowed softly.
"My acting's limited to the world I've seen and heard. How could it be fun?"
She laughed lightly as she spoke.
The laugh faded quickly.
"The Empress's staunch atheist. I agree—gods don't exist."
I saw her hand tremble.
"But today... strangely, I think there might be one. Just this once."
She fell silent after, lips sealed.
I didn't break it.
She looked up, meeting my eyes.
"No wishes for myself. What I want is—"
She reached out slowly, tapping my chest.
Breath-catching closeness.
A light breeze stirred her hair.
"I want you to be happy from now on."
I gazed at her wordlessly.
"Even if every play you've seen so far was tragedy, may the rest be comedy. Like you mistook the genre."
No tears welled.
Not sad. Not moving.
So.
I just stayed silent.
Close my eyes, and I'm on the Northern Frontline.
Comrades torn by Great Beasts, Astier standing there—overlapping.
"For all your anguish and suffering—"
She whispered softly.
"You deserve recompense."
She was comforting me.
Just as I'd pierced her act and identity, she'd pierced my heart.
I had no words.
Lips moved, but no reply came.
Astier, unconcerned, finished.
"Had to say it today. Too much? Anyway, I wanted to."
Shifting the mood in an instant, she offered her hand.
"And, Ian. Night's still young, isn't it?"