Chapter 9
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 9
Chapter Title: The Weight of Reality
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The sun rose to its zenith. The brightening surroundings only served to highlight the gruesome scene. The stench of blood still hung heavy in the air.
The soldiers, who had taken a short rest, began to wake one by one. Among them was Rex, the orc who had lost an arm.
Rex had cauterized the wound with fire to stop the bleeding. It was a necessary choice on a battlefield like this, where proper disinfectants were impossible to find.
In total, five soldiers had survived the last battle.
The Sword Saint had kept watch all night so the soldiers could rest, however briefly, in peace. No fool dared to challenge a walking continental power.
Rex and the other soldiers gathered fragments of the broken wagon to build a crude cart, then began to carefully place the bodies of their comrades upon it.
Rex gritted his teeth as he pulled out the arrows embedded in Red Herion’s body, one by one. He quietly tore a piece of his own clothing to cover Balder's face, which had melted from poison.
Of the thirty or so soldiers, only five had survived, and even they were not in good condition.
An orc who had lost an arm, a soldier who had amputated a poison-infected leg, another covered in burns…
“You’ve all suffered grave injuries, so it will be difficult to continue fighting as soldiers. I’ll speak to the higher-ups for you. After all, you’re the unit that discovered a clue to the Overlord.”
The Sword Saint gently patted the shoulders of the soldiers, who were grimacing at the sight of their comrades’ bodies now stacked neatly on the cart.
“…What are you talking about?”
Rex spoke, his teeth cracked from clenching them too hard.
“Their lives are all on our shoulders. If we retire now, what becomes of those lives? I, for one, will not retire until the Overlord we faced yesterday is dead.”
Blood trickled from between Rex’s lips. It looked as though tears would burst from his eyes at any moment as he gazed at Balder and Herion.
The weight of more than twenty specters rested on the massive orc’s shoulders. His eyes burned with rage, and his arms and legs trembled, unable to contain his frustration.
Rex was sickened by his own inadequacy.
He had failed to protect the men who had trusted and followed him.
It hadn't been him who protected the white-haired boy, either, but the Sword Saint who had appeared on the battlefield at just the right moment.
All he had done was fight a disgustingly large mutant and eke out a narrow victory, one that had cost him an arm in a desperate struggle.
‘I’m weak.’
He had never felt that fact so keenly as he did now.
‘…I’m so damn weak.’
It was a five-minute realization that cut him to the bone.
Rex’s eyes, once full of fury, now wavered with disappointment in his own incompetence.
The Sword Saint looked into his eyes and nodded.
“The moment you realize you’re weak is also the best moment to become stronger.”
The Sword Saint slowly reached into his coat, pulled out a short dagger, and placed it on the neatly arranged corpses.
“It’s a dagger blessed by the Saintess. It will guide the souls of the dead to Astella.”
It was a ceremonial dagger in the shape of a cross.
With its blunted tip, it was practically useless for killing, more of an ornament than a weapon.
“May Astella watch over you.”
***
I watched the situation unfold, then bowed my head along with the others who were paying their respects to the cross-shaped ceremonial dagger placed on the white blanket.
The battlefield had been so chaotic that, honestly, I didn’t really know what they had done.
But one thing was certain.
Ever since the fierce confrontation with the Overlord began, not a single poison-tipped arrow or attack from another mutant had come my way.
It was likely thanks to them, who had thrown their lives on the line to engage the mutants.
If the Overlord’s mutants had interfered in our fight, I would have undoubtedly ended up dead, just like them.
“…”
They could have abandoned me.
The moment they realized I was the Overlord's target, they could have made a quick decision and fled. Most of them would have probably survived.
They had no obligation to protect me.
To them, I was just a nameless mage of vagrant origin who they’d let ride in their wagon because we were heading to the same destination.
But they had drawn their swords, roared with courage, and charged the mutants.
The honorable soldiers had thrown their lives away for a mage whose name they didn't even know, without a moment's hesitation.
And they must have known that their courage would lead them to their deaths.
…A tangle of complex emotions weighed heavily on my shoulders.
People die, get hurt… and change.
This is reality.
The smell rising from the corpse cart seemed to be a constant reminder of that fact.
“Boy, we should get moving soon.”
The Sword Saint waited for me to finish my silent prayer before speaking in a quiet voice.
“Are you leaving?”
“Yes, I have many things to take care of, so I’ll go on ahead. I don’t think I can accompany you all the way to the capital. My apologies.”
“Thank you for escorting us so we could get at least a short rest, despite your busy schedule.”
“Save your thanks for this one. It’s because he bought us time that even five could be saved.”
With that, the Sword Saint grabbed my clothes and lifted me up like a doll. My withered legs and arms dangled in the air.
“…Thank you, Mage. I have one last request.”
Rex looked at me with reddened eyes and spoke carefully.
“Please, survive as long as you can, so that our deaths will not be in vain. Survive long, and unleash your talent to its absolute limit.”
His red hand, gripping the handle of the corpse cart, trembled. His back seemed to carry a burden of complex emotions that couldn't be expressed in a single word.
“Become a mage so great that we can proudly tell our fallen comrades we gave our lives to protect a mage talented enough to turn the world upside down.”
“…”
I couldn’t bring myself to look directly into Rex’s reddened eyes.
I couldn’t confess, ‘I’m not the mage with outstanding talent that you think I am.’
“…We should be on our way as well.”
Without waiting for my reply, Rex bowed his head once more to the Sword Saint, then began to slowly pull the cart full of bodies toward the capital.
The cart rumbled, quietly and mournfully making its way out of the forest that was now nothing but ash and blood.
I just stared blankly as they disappeared down the road in the distance.
“…”
…It was the first time I had ever seen a human corpse in such detail.
I had seen one when I was first born here, but it hadn't felt real then.
But now.
It was unsettling, disgusting, and at the same time, a sadness for people I barely knew welled up in my chest.
Was I annoyed? Was I angry?
I didn't know exactly what the emotion was. I was confused.
“…Boy?”
I had entered my favorite game and used magic according to the unique build I had designed.
When Blooming activated, I was just having fun. It felt like playing a game with an unbelievably vivid VR headset.
When the duration of Blooming ended and I woke up in the tent, I was a little surprised.
Because I could feel the pain of a broken arm.
But even then, I didn't perceive it as reality.
Was it because everything around me looked exactly like the in-game models? Perhaps, subconsciously, I had been treating everything that was happening as an illusion.
A baseless hope had been lodged somewhere in my heart—that all of this was an illusion or a dream… and if my character died, the real me would wake up in my cramped studio apartment and go on with my day as usual.
But that flimsy and complacent hope completely vanished the moment I saw the bodies of the soldiers I had spent the day with.
The unseeing eyes of the soldiers who had willingly sacrificed themselves to protect me still seemed to hold a spark of defiance. Their hands still gripped the swords and shields they couldn't let go of, and the veins in their necks were still pronounced.
Their desperate struggle in the forest to protect me and fight the mutants was real, and the fact that they had lost their lives at the end of that fierce battle was also real.
‘This is reality.’
A wretched reality where people die in an instant,
where they swing swords and thrust spears at monsters to protect each other.
“…What is your name, boy?”
If I hadn't accepted this reality, I would have introduced myself with the ridiculous character name, ‘Han Bang.’
Because I had been thinking of this world as a ‘game.’
But it was different now.
This was a damn reality, and the white-haired boy standing here wasn't some character, but ‘me.’
“My surname is Gyeong, and my name is Bin.”
Gyeongbin. I told the Sword Saint my real name. Not that I knew what meaning it would hold.
“Gyeong Bin. Saying your full name makes it sound like I’m addressing a noble.”
I have to live in this reality. And a very harsh and dangerous one at that.
“Please, just call me Bin.”
I had to fully assimilate into this world.
Because it was a harsh world where one couldn't survive with a complacent and half-hearted mindset.
***
Until 30 years ago, this continent was divided into four factions.
Centered around the great empire built by humans, the elves had settled in the west, the orcs in the east, and the dwarves had their nation in the north.
Although they constantly bickered over minor territorial disputes and trade, the emergence of the Mazoku and the threat to the continent’s existence prompted the leaders of each race to merge their territories and establish a grand alliance.
After long discussions, the kings of each race hailed the human king as the emperor of the allied nations.
The elven queen was too proud and overbearing, the dwarven king lacked seriousness in any matter, and the orc chieftain was practically ignorant of politics outside of military affairs.
Furthermore, the human empire occupied a vast territory in the center of the continent, and their population was so overwhelmingly large that their military strength, derived from numbers alone, was far superior to that of all other races combined.
In the very center of Estérdam, the capital of this allied nation, stands a colossal castle with a total area of 120 square kilometers.
…A castle of 120 square kilometers. Not including the walls, just the building itself is 120 square kilometers.
The Gangnam district is 40 square kilometers, and a single castle is 120.
Reading this passage in the lore book, I had thought, ‘They’re just making stuff up,’ and ‘Does this game company even know how big 120 square kilometers is?’
I vividly remember thinking the writer must have been a liberal arts major, scoffing ‘what do you expect from a lib arts major,’ and scratching my belly while reading in the corner of my room…
That insane castle.
It was now spread out before my very eyes.
‘…What in the world is this.’
It looked less like a building and more like a massive mountain range.
The walls surrounding the castle were high enough to easily dwarf any decent-sized mountain, and the main gate was large enough for a dragon to pass through without issue.
And the Sword Saint and I arrived at the main gate of this insane castle less than two minutes after parting ways with Rex.
How did we travel a distance that would take three days and nights by carriage in under two minutes, you ask?
…The Sword Saint just carried me on his back and ran.
Fast.
Through the air.
…I mean, really damn fast.
When I asked him why he was running through the air, the Sword Saint replied that running on the ground would harm animals like deer, or the trees.
My question was meant to be, ‘Why can a person run through the air without even using magic?’…
It seemed that, to him, the sky was just a place you could run.
Perhaps I was the one in the wrong for expecting common sense from a monster who could single-handedly alter the course of a war.
“You’ve returned!”
“Who is that you’ve brought with you?”
When the Sword Saint lightly leaped over the outer wall and landed at the massive main gate, the Royal Guards stationed there greeted him loudly. They showed no sign of surprise, even though a person had just dropped from the sky.
It was probably not a rare occurrence.
“This boy is my guest. I’d like to introduce him to the representatives of each race immediately. Could you convene a meeting? If you tell them I requested it, they’ll agree right away. I need to report on the Overlord anyway.”
“…Sir? You mean, right now?”
The guards frowned, asking again as if they had misheard.
“Tell the Emperor I’ve found a mage worthy of being a party member. The meeting will be convened in no time.”
“…Sir?!”
…?
I frowned at the Sword Saint, who was spouting nonsense with a calm expression.
What did this guy just say?
The event to become the Sword Saint’s party member is a late-game event that only opens up when a character reaches at least level 90.
It's an event that happens right before the game’s ending, where you go with the Sword Saint to defeat the Demon King and his devils.
So why the hell is it happening to me, a level 1 scrub mage?
“I-I’ll report this immediately!”
The guard looked back and forth between me and the Sword Saint, then, as if finally snapping back to his senses, rushed through the gate.
I… just stared blankly at the Sword Saint’s face.
My brain couldn’t keep up with the rapidly changing situation.
“It may be burdensome, but I believe you are the most talented mage in history. I can assure you of that.”
It is burdensome.
It’s damn burdensome, you madman.
And you’re not even a mage. How can a guy who can’t even use magic be so sure?
“The Overlord you fought, Maltiel, is one of the stronger ones. Even 7th-Circle mages wouldn’t last five minutes against him. And yet, a mage who fought on equal footing with the mighty Maltiel is what? Not a 7th-Circle, but a 4th-Circle mage?”
“…”
“Just imagine. What will happen when you grow and become a 5th-Circle mage? When you’ve trained and surpassed the 7th and 8th Circles to reach the 9th. You’re young, so you might even become the first mage to break the 10th-Circle barrier.”
Hmm.
Right. I’d be able to use a ridiculously strong Blooming, then.
I’d be really strong for five minutes.
For five minutes, that is.
“…You madman.”
My brain having short-circuited, the word I was thinking slipped out of my mouth.
“Even so, if you lack confidence, then just trust my eyes. I have a knack for judging people.”
But this crazy bastard didn’t seem to hear my insult, smiling as he lightly patted my shoulder.
“You crazy bastard.”
I escalated my assessment of this lunatic who refused to be bound by common sense, then pressed my hands to my temples and sighed.
…Maybe it would be better to just stop thinking.
Because my mind just couldn’t comprehend this insane situation.