Chapter 77
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: Hope on the Battlefield
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A light flared behind the soldier carrying Teru over his shoulder. Emerging against the glare, flashes of light shot from the Mazoku's fingertips, surging forward as if to erase everything in their path.
The soldier, standing in the middle of no-man's-land, stared blankly at the light hurtling toward him.
There was no time to react. It was too late to brace himself and raise his shield.
Helpless.
The thought that he had failed at everything filled his mind. He couldn't save his comrade who had miraculously crossed no-man's-land. By foolishly leaping out of the trench and shouting not to shoot, he had distracted his allies, delaying their detection of the Mazoku.
He would leave no mark, offer no help, and simply become another nameless piece of meat on this battlefield.
“...”
He wanted to apologize to his comrades for his pathetic state, a sight so pitiful it stifled even a hollow laugh.
He wished, just for a moment, to escape this horrifying reality. He wanted to find some hope of survival amidst this damned mud and gore.
It was a childish wish, an impossible dream. And the price for that wish, for that dream, was his life and the lives of his comrades.
Look away from reality for even a second, and death would find you.
That was the nature of the battlefield.
In that brief moment, the soldier composed his thoughts and closed his eyes.
The light closed in, just moments from piercing his skull...
*Boom!*
Then, the sound of tearing air rang in his ears.
...It rang in his ears?
He hadn't taken cover or raised a shield. A direct hit from Mazoku magic should have blown him to pieces, yet his ears were still processing unfamiliar sounds.
The sound of an explosion, someone's cry, the thud of mud shooting into the air and slapping back down.
He'd never died before, but he was sure he wouldn't be hearing any of this if he were dead.
“...”
Puzzled, the soldier slowly opened his eyes.
Dust was everywhere. His eyes burned.
A bright light cut through the dark battlefield and the cloud of dust. It illuminated a silver-haired boy. The boy's eyes were deep and beautiful, like a single drop of blue paint on a pure white canvas.
The boy possessed a mysterious quality that seemed to draw in anyone who looked at him.
“Ugh, so much dust. There's nothing but mud around, so why is it so dusty?”
The boy waved a slender wrist, batting away the dust tickling his nose. He showed no sign of panic despite the sudden Mazoku ambush. His demeanor was composed, as if he had anticipated all of this.
The soldier looked around the boy. He finally understood how he was still alive.
A radius of about one meter around the boy was completely devastated. It was clear the boy had used some kind of defensive magic to save him, but being ignorant of magic, he couldn't comprehend anything beyond that.
The area around the trench was also a mess, but casualties seemed light. A few soldiers were crawling out from under clumps of mud, clearing away the collapsed trench framework.
“Get down here, you bastard!”
An officer's shout came from ahead. The soldier finally snapped out of his daze and slowly began to move.
He knew that if he stayed, he would only get in the way of the white-haired boy's abilities.
The soldier quickly got to his feet and started toward the trench. But just then, a quiet voice slipped from the boy's lips.
“...The body. If you can, please take it with you. We found him, after all. The least we can do is give him a proper burial.”
The soldier stopped in his tracks.
The faint compassion in the boy's voice pierced his chest and tormented his heart.
“...”
He silently gazed at the back of the boy's white head, fighting back tears as he carefully lifted ‘Teru’ from the ground.
“What are you doing, you idiot! Get down here now!”
“Leave the body and hurry up! You'll get yourself killed worrying about that!”
The soldiers in the trench were yelling at him to just leave the corpse.
But he just couldn't bring himself to leave the body behind.
He didn't know why.
Was this the hope he had been so desperately searching for?
What a ridiculous thought. A corpse as hope.
...A corpse as hope.
“Shit.”
Yes.
Still, this had to be the hope he was looking for.
Proof that we fought bravely.
Proof that we resisted more fiercely than anyone.
Proof that someone would remember my sacrifice, my courage.
Yes. This was what he needed.
This was what he needed.
Carrying that hope on his back, he moved his legs quickly and tumbled into the trench. He heard the squelch of soft flesh being crushed, and the other soldiers grew angry at the sight of the poison-covered corpse. A chill ran through him as the poison seeped into his shoulder, and soon, he felt the sensation fading.
Even so, he couldn't cast the body aside.
It was a hope passed on to him by the boy known as the continent's hope.
Didn't they at least need proof that they could be remembered?
So he believed.
“...Take the body to the rear. The fighting is about to intensify.”
The orc protecting the boy, Rex, believed so as well.
Leaving the soldier behind, a massive boot stepped over the collapsed trench and dug into the mud. The huge orc slowly revealed himself above no-man's-land.
“That is indeed a high-performance spell.”
Rex remarked to the boy, lifting his massive axe.
“Well, it is the protection of a so-called spirit, after all.”
The boy replied with a relaxed smile.
Spirit's Protection. The ultimate defensive magic the boy had acquired in the Akilliptus Forest Zone.
A special spell that exponentially increased a mage's survival rate, obtainable only by the chosen few favored by the spirits.
The boy wore a rather satisfied expression as the defensive magic, which he had possessed for nearly a month, proved its worth.
“It was a good thing I ran various tests on this spell beforehand. Thanks to that, I could jump in with confidence.”
“All I did was swing my axe at you a few times, General... but well, it wasn't a bad experience.”
The boy and Rex exchanged an inside joke, faint smiles playing on their lips. Their bond had grown strong enough that they could ease each other's tension before a fierce battle.
“...He has appeared.”
The Mazoku floating in the sky saw the white-haired boy step onto the battlefield, closed their eyes, and whispered as much.
—...I will be there soon. Hold him down until then.
“Understood.”
The Mazoku with the largest wings, whose fingers had just unleashed the red light, pointed directly at the boy.
“...It hasn't been fifteen seconds yet.”
“I know.”
Unlike a moment ago when he had boldly charged into the enemy's barrage, the boy quickly hid behind the orc's back.
“Crush him.”
The large-winged Mazoku commanded in a low voice. Immediately, the Mazoku behind him folded their wings and began to plummet straight toward the boy.
They weren't using magic, weapons, or their mutant forms.
The Mazoku shot toward the boy in a straight line, as if they themselves were missiles.
They had judged that clumsy attacks or spells wouldn't even scratch the boy, so they resorted to a suicide charge.
A command that would cause desertion among ordinary creatures, but these were Mazoku.
A race born to annihilate all life had chosen a method befittingly barbaric and crude.
“A single point. Absence. Union and compression.”
From behind Rex, who had raised his axe, came the sound of an old man's incantation.
The orc stared up at the sky with a resolute expression.
“Bolt.”
An electric current surged from the body of an old man with a white beard. From deep within the trench, a compressed sphere of electricity shot toward the sky. Moments later, dozens of lightning bolts blanketed the heavens.
Immense heat enveloped the orc's skin. As his steel prosthetic arm heated up, the boy huddled behind the orc's back to escape the blast.
The Mazoku flying straight for the boy were instantly roasted. Chunks of blackened flesh began to fall from the sky, and Rex skillfully batted them away with his axe, protecting the boy behind him.
The Mazoku who had forced his subordinates to their deaths looked down at the orc and the mages with a hardened expression.
His large wings beat cautiously against the backdrop of black storm clouds.
“Aren't you coming? What are you waiting for?”
The boy provoked the Mazoku hovering in the sky with a cold expression.
“...All for the sake of a unified world.”
The Mazoku folded its wings and plummeted toward the boy, just like the others.
“Manifest.”
As if waiting for that very moment, vermilion particles flowed from the boy's chest. The particles soon took the form of a red crystal.
*Kk-reek!*
With the sound of interlocking machinery, a crimson light shot toward the sky.
“...You seem to have gotten quite proficient?”
Rex commented, feeling that the boy's aim had improved significantly. It wasn't long ago that he couldn't even hit a scuttling spider, so it was no surprise to think so now that he could intercept a Mazoku falling from the sky.
“It's only because he flew in a straight line.”
The boy replied to Rex's praise with a light laugh.
Struck by the crimson beam, the Mazoku's body, split in two, plummeted to the ground like a waterlogged paper airplane. The corpse gave off a rotten stench and instantly decomposed, mixing into the mud.