Chapter 73
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 73
Chapter Title: The Star Falling in Ozhangwon (5)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Zhuge Liang gazed up at the night sky.
Amid the countless stars twinkling with their own lights, the Triad Star governing his fate flickered faintly.
His allotted time.
It was an omen signaling that Heaven's mandate was nearing its end.
"Ah, Heavens above. How can you be so cruel?"
A handful of red blood coughed up from his mouth.
To stand against the Cao clan denying the Han's restoration.
He had burned everything he had for the great cause of fulfilling his promise to his late lord Liu Bei.
Yet his body was crumbling like rotten deadwood.
And talented aides to support the young emperor were still lacking.
Thus.
Even if Heaven did not permit it.
He had no choice but to twist fate with his final ounce of strength.
"Jiang Wei."
Jiang Wei immediately dropped to his knees at the sound of Zhuge Liang's voice.
"Yes, Chancellor."
"I intend to defy Heaven's will and borrow a little more time. For the seven days it takes to build the Seven Star Altar and offer prayers, let no one enter. If the lamp still burns after seven days, then perhaps I may gain a brief reprieve..."
...
...
Seven large lanterns shaped like the Big Dipper.
And surrounding them, forty-nine small ones.
At the center, he placed the Main Life Lamp symbolizing his own vitality.
"Heavens, look upon me with mercy. I, Zhuge Liang, do not beg for life out of selfish desire. It is to pacify this chaotic realm—grant this humble body just a little more time, I beseech you."
His earnest prayer.
Day one.
Day two.
Day three...
It continued without cease.
Without eating a thing.
Without drinking a drop.
Only his eyes, burning with desperate longing brighter than the lamps, as Zhuge Liang prayed day and night without rest.
...
...
On the night of the sixth day.
The howling wind outside the tent sounded like wailing ghosts, and in rhythm, the flame of the Main Life Lamp danced unstably.
Zhuge Liang never stopped.
If he could just hold out for one more day.
One single day.
That was when it happened.
A murmur like an auditory hallucination from afar grew closer, and urgent shouts began shaking the entire Ozhangwon camp.
Soldiers' yells.
The thunder of galloping hooves.
"The Wei army is attacking! We must inform the Chancellor immediately!"
With a frantic voice, chaos erupted at the tent entrance.
Jiang Wei's desperate blocking could be heard, but he was outnumbered.
Whoosh—!
As if severing the boundary between the living world and the afterlife.
The firmly drawn tent flap was roughly flung open.
Wei Yan, wounded and bleeding, rushed in and prostrated himself before Zhuge Liang.
"Chancellor! The Wei forces have launched a surprise attack. Our troops are in peril. Right now—"
Wei Yan too seemed to have come from a desperate crisis.
But the gust from his urgent footsteps swept through the tent.
In that instant.
The Main Life Lamp at the center, which had sustained Zhuge Liang's life for the past six days, trembled violently and went out hollowly.
Blue smoke rose.
Like a soul departing.
Zhuge Liang's expression, gazing at it, was serene.
"You traitor! You've cut short the Chancellor's life!"
Jiang Wei, following right behind, lunged to behead Wei Yan in a single stroke, but Zhuge Liang weakly raised his hand to halt him.
His forlorn gaze fell upon the extinguished lamp.
"Life and death are fated. Man may scheme, but Heaven decides the outcome... My fate ends here—what can be done? Do not punish General Wei Yan."
...
...
The night wind seeped through the torn tent gaps, scattering the lamp's smoke.
The Crouching Dragon's final flame was fading.
A spirit too noble and pure for a mere mortal body; destiny had prepared not for a prostrate dragon, but for ascension as a soaring Yellow Dragon.
Yet Heaven's grand design.
Does not accommodate man's petty wishes.
One star.
Trailing a red tail, fell from the skies over Ozhangwon.
(The final chapter will be serialized in the next issue.)
Unable even to think of picking up another novel, he folded the newspaper with slightly trembling hands.
"Haa..."
Eisen let out a deep sigh.
The schemer in man, the sage in heaven.
Man plots the endeavor; Heaven brings it to fruition.
Reciting the demon tongue idiom from his academy days, Eisen suddenly thought of the author behind this horrific plot twist.
If those dark circles were right in front of him.
He might have punched them without thinking.
"Secretary."
"You called, Your Highness?"
"Dispatch the guard to the area around Novelpia."
"...? Understood."
Only after beginning to enjoy art a little had a certain fact come into Eisen's view.
Among nobles, some immersed themselves so deeply in art that they caused disturbances—something he hadn't understood before.
But now, just a little.
He thought he could understand their mindset.
Still, people getting beaten.
A building engulfed in flames right in the capital—he had to prevent that, at least.
Swallowing the thought of going to watch later, Eisen finally pushed the newspaper aside and began his work.
"That bastard really has no equal."
His focus wouldn't settle.
Gazing at the dawn sky as day broke, Kim Yul sighed.
"I don't wanna go..."
Kim Yul wasn't oblivious by any means.
He simply respected the original plot as much as possible.
Thus, Zhuge Liang had to die.
And he had to take the hate—he understood that down to his bones.
But understanding with his head and accepting it with his body were different.
Kim Yul weakly rolled Caesar's Dice on the floor.
Clack, roll...
"What'd it land on?"
"2."
"Minor misfortune. Still, not too bad."
To deliver today's manuscript—the finale tomorrow—he had no choice but to step out and visit the Novelpia office.
So Kim Yul sluggishly got ready to head out.
"What's with your fashion sense?"
"I'll accompany you, Kim Yul."
At Historie's warm words.
Kim Yul's stiff expression softened with a shy grin, only for worry to settle right back in.
"It'll be dangerous."
Historie proudly placed a hand on her hip.
"Trust in the future's grand illusion archmage, Historie."
.
.
.
Among the many schools in the Mage Tower, the Illusion School wasn't particularly popular.
The reason was simple.
Unlike other elemental schools that could split the earth, freeze seas, summon typhoons, or even drop floating meteors from the sky at their peak.
It lacked combat utility.
The current head of the Illusion School—hailed as its greatest output in decades—was responsible for the empire's entertainment rather than frontline duties, for the same reason.
But shift the perspective a bit.
And illusion magic could do anything, depending on the caster's creativity.
Thus, right now.
"Amazing..."
"Lower your voice. It disrupts the distortion."
To share the spell's effect.
Kim Yul walked arm-in-arm with Historie, striding boldly down the street.
One might get distracted by the massive mass pressing against his arm, but surprisingly, Kim Yul barely noticed the feel of that knowledge pouch.
The basics of illusion magic.
A veil of perceptual distortion cloaked Kim Yul and Historie.
They existed, yet went unnoticed, allowing them to roam freely.
Of course, if voices leaked or physical contact occurred, the distortion would falter, so they moved with utmost caution.
"Killing off even Zhuge Liang..."
"Protests are raging right in front of Novelpia HQ."
"Protests? What's the point?"
"Haven't you heard the saying? The loudest voice, the best gong-beater wins."
Whenever street talk about the two heroes drifted by, Kim Yul would flinch inwardly and glance over.
But cool-headed intellect incarnate.
Historie kept him steady.
"Keep going, Yul-darling. Eyes forward."
"What's with that speech pattern, you gig-kwang-tong-a."
And so creator and creation headed together toward Novelpia HQ.
And sure enough, as the passersby said.
"...We condemn...!"
"Promise... anything...!"
"...Bring him back...!"
"...Serialize moreeeee!"
A massive clamor assaulted Kim Yul and Historie's ears in front of the HQ building.
But fortunately, Chloe's arrangements meant they didn't need to enter through the front.
Only upon reaching the secluded back alley entrance for authors, away from the crowds.
"Haa."
Historie released the spell and slumped, drained.
Kim Yul caught her as she nearly collapsed.
"You okay?"
"Super-high-performance AI Historie suffers no performance drop from this RAM usage. Merely some overclock aftereffects..."
Supporting the babbling Historie lightly, Kim Yul opened Novelpia's back door, climbed the stairs.
Up to the second floor at once.
"...You've arrived, Author."
"Haha..."
Ignoring the secretary's resentful glare as best he could, Kim Yul opened the president's office door.
He'd imagined Chloe shrieking the moment he showed his face—Eek, a demon!
"Huh, she's not here?"
Chloe was absent.
Supporting Historie's limp form to the sofa and laying her down.
"Where's the president?"
Kim Yul asked the secretary.
The secretary adjusted her glasses slightly and silently gestured toward the window.
Kim Yul's gaze drifted outside.
There.
Mingling with the scattered crowds holding pickets and protesting.
At the fountain.
In a spot exuding an eerie aura no other protester dared approach.
The Saintess condemning the sad ending.
The recent bestie favoring Zhuge Liang over Liu Bei.
The serialization-loving piglet's form imprinted on Kim Yul's retina.
"...What kinda combo is that?"
The dice roll from morning flickered in Kim Yul's mind.
At least it wasn't a great misfortune.
He wouldn't die.