Chapter 149
Chapter 149
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: Fake Madness, Real Madness (3)
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"Ah."
Dwen's stern expression twitched violently once.
For the two Hero party members, the drop was even more severe.
The Pain Core that Rishir had pulled out.
They were startled to see it fully filled, then recalled the conversation that had just taken place.
Rishir's Pain Core was a special item, wasn't it?
'Special meaning it's relatively easy to fill, perhaps.'
That had to be it.
Otherwise, there was no explaining how that Pain Core had filled up overnight.
From their own experiences,
filling a Pain Core to the brim would require breaking an arm hundreds of times and having one's back torn open countless times—and even that wouldn't suffice.
Above all, Rishir's current appearance was far too ordinary for someone who had wrought and endured such madness.
In his neatly composed demeanor, no different from usual, not even a shred of the madness visible to fanatics could be felt.
"Ahh, yeah. Of course. I got ahead of myself for a moment."
Felix stomped his feet and groaned in anguish.
Could there be a more intense feeling of having something received snatched back away?
Separately,
they felt profound感动.
"Rishir."
Dwen looked at him with complex eyes.
Jane and Felix were Dwen's disciples, and a great bond existed between them.
For them, enduring sacrifice and pain for Dwen's sake was only natural.
But Rishir?
No matter how special the Pain Core, it couldn't have filled without any suffering at all.
"You and..."
...have nothing to do with this, so why?
He trailed off, swallowing the unfinished words.
Their relationship wasn't close enough for him to firmly reject the goodwill.
Dwen's stern gaze wavered.
All she could do was silently gaze at Rishir.
Rishir flashed a cheeky smile at such a Dwen.
As if to say it was no big deal, don't worry about it.
...It truly was an expression he could make because it wasn't a big deal.
However, Dwen's group had no way of knowing that.
Their expressions churned vividly.
"Rishir. You..."
Jane was so moved she was holding back tears.
And so,
just as a minor incident(?) sparked a touching scene among Rishir's group,
"..."
a completely opposite atmosphere brewed among the true fanatics.
The Pain Core.
It was the suffering of others borne by the True Ones.
They absorbed others' pain through special rituals, filling the Pain Core and paying the price thereby.
Such Pain Cores were classified into three main grades.
Lower-grade cores, fillable by an individual's power.
Mid-grade cores, fillable by small-scale rituals.
And finally, high-grade cores, fillable only through large-scale rituals.
Among these, the Pain Core Dwen bore was a high-grade core.
Originally, it required a large-scale ritual centered on youths who should have become True Ones alongside their parents, mobilizing dozens of True Ones.
The central youths would die from agony or become invalids, while the dozens of supporting True Ones would suffer impaired mobility for a time from the burden.
That was the scale of suffering needed to fill a high-grade core.
The scale needed for Dwen—
and also for Rishir's group, who had volunteered to share her burden.
That's right.
Hella had distributed high-grade cores to Rishir's group.
To make them face reality.
To show them how heavy the duty of a True One truly was.
Hella judged that a single day would suffice for them to realize this after taking the cores.
At this very hour,
heading to their lodgings, she could confront them holding empty cores.
She could correct everything alongside those who recognized their own arrogance.
That had been Hella's expectation when setting out.
The True Ones' expectation.
But what was this?
"..."
Hella accepted the core Rishir handed over with trembling hands.
She then examined it closely.
'I must have handed over the wrong core.'
It was a desperate rationalization to accept this absurd situation.
A high-grade core had two distinguishing features.
First, its size.
Unlike lower or mid-grade cores that fit in the hand, high-grade cores were markedly larger.
Their weight overwhelmed any True One who understood their meaning.
Hella was overwhelmed.
She tried cupping her palm with all her might, but the size still wouldn't fully fit.
And its color.
"Ah..."
A rapturous sigh escaped the fanatic's lips.
A color like well-aged wine.
Or like blood spurting from a torn artery—that deep crimson hue.
A shade observable only in high-grade cores.
It was an undeniable fact.
What lay in her hand was undoubtedly a high-grade core.
Another high-grade core had been filled.
With it, another immense suffering vanished.
True One Hella felt an overflowing fullness from that fact.
"Ah, aah..."
The emotion was so rich it even evoked physical bliss.
Hella writhed in place for a while.
"Aah. Sister."
Hella's acolyte Poera and numerous other True Ones were moved by her sight.
Sighs and moans erupted here and there.
Even outdoors, the air grew steamy for a moment.
-By the way, True Ones operate separated by gender due to periodic rituals among them. (Source: Sword of Insight)
Today's knowledge was transmitted to Rishir's overwhelmed and nauseated group amid that spectacle.
"Oh..."
Rishir unwittingly let out a sigh.
So it's all women there.
Huh? Wait.
Then the other group of True Ones—
"Ah."
All the men present achieved a detached, unshakable calm.
"Ah."
At the same time, Hella regained her composure.
This was no time for that.
Feeling the weight in her palm, she looked at Rishir.
"Are you... alright?"
"Pardon?"
His blank reply was answer enough.
In truth, the answer was decided before she even asked.
Rishir looked perfectly fine at a glance.
Even after filling a high-grade core overnight.
It starkly contrasted with Jane and Felix, who showed intermittent physical discomfort despite filling only a tiny fraction.
Something was wrong with the core.
Or Rishir had filled it improperly.
Hella reached a perfectly reasonable conclusion from her perspective.
"One question. How exactly did you fill this core?"
"I have a routine training I do daily, and when I did that, it filled up."
"Training..."
Not only the True Ones but even the Hero party's expressions subtly shifted at Rishir's answer.
All knew it was impossible to fill a high-grade core through mere 'training.'
"If possible, could you show us the place where you trained?"
Rishir shrugged and said,
"Follow me."
The True Ones and Hero party followed behind Rishir.
"This is the place."
The location they arrived at following Rishir was the Hero mansion's backyard.
They looked around frantically, as if searching for a lost item.
"This is...?"
Someone's mutter voiced the group's collective sentiment.
Clean stone walls and the mansion's exterior.
The ground covered in lush green grass.
No 'traces' anywhere.
No traces of acts capable of filling a high-grade core.
They had anticipated the site wouldn't be a secret chamber rife with flaying and torture marks, given Rishir's state—
but not that it would be this utterly normal.
Their doubts and suspicions deepened.
What on earth had he done?
Why on earth was the high-grade core full?
Rishir thoughtfully went to the spot for the confused group.
"It was probably around here."
However, his calm assumption of a sword stance only amplified their confusion.
"If you reenact it once..."
"Sister, what are you..."
"Yes? No, I know! I know, but—"
Absurd talk circulated among the True Ones.
Reenact the pain ritual that filled the high-grade core?
Die once more.
Become an invalid once more.
Go mad as a group once more.
It was tantamount to madness.
The True Ones scolded the sister who first suggested it.
Yet, they understood her on some level.
Whoosh.
A sudden breeze rustled the grass.
The youth's collar and hair swayed atop it in sword stance.
How could they imagine a ritual stained in blood and pain from that utterly peaceful high-grade core bearer?
"..."
Hella checked the high-grade core once more.
It appeared perfectly fine on the surface.
Both the core and Rishir.
"Ah..."
She felt on the verge of madness from the confusion.
The vast worldview forming the foundation of a True One's thinking was shaking.
At that moment,
Rishir extended a helping hand.
"Should I reenact the situation from back then?"
Twitch!
The True Ones' bodies shook.
Their eyes trembled mercilessly.
No.
They knew what he might have done. What he might do.
He was an outsider unrelated to a True One's duty.
They couldn't impose a True One's duty on him any longer.
Reason certainly screamed that.
However,
that voice of reason grew fainter.
Any reason why not?
Look at his state now.
Is that the state of someone who filled a high-grade core?
Above all, a non-True One couldn't possibly fill a high-grade core.
He couldn't possibly bear a True One's heaviest duty.
"Please do."
Their faith and pride as True Ones led them to one conclusion.
Something must be wrong, surely.
Hella extended her hand to Dwen.
"..."
Dwen handed over her high-grade core without hesitation.
Judging from Rishir's state, nothing would happen to him.
Above all—
they were just as curious.
What in the world was going on?
What was throwing these fanatics into such disarray?
"Ah, this time it's filling this one?"
Rishir brightened upon confirming Dwen's high-grade core.
Hella, unsure how to react, changed the subject.
"Just in case, we'll conduct a formal ritual."
"A ritual?"
"Yes. The fallen one—you, the ritual's center—your pain will be shared by the others."
"That's possible?"
"We True Ones can share sensations through our unique rituals."
"Oh ho."
As Rishir showed interest, the True Ones began preparing the ritual.
Swish.
They simultaneously drew daggers from their bosoms.
And—
"Wait—"
sliced their own palms with them.
Rishir's eyes widened at the disciplined madness.
"It's fine."
Hella reassured him with a gentle smile and continued the ritual.
She collected their blood in a silver chalice from somewhere, then smeared the mingled blood on the backs of the True Ones' hands.
"Does that allow you to share Rishir's pain?"
Dwen asked midway through, and Hella replied.
"Yes."
"Then I'll participate too."
"..."
A nod.
The Hero party stepped forward to join as well.
Worry. Resolve. Doubt. Curiosity.
Mingled emotions completed the ritual preparations.
"...But, is it really okay?"
Rishir voiced concern before the 'reenactment.'
Unsure how his sensations would transmit to them.
"Rest assured. We True Ones are always ready to bear others' pain."
Compared to the pain we've endured thus far, yours will be trivial.
Hella's smile brimmed with leisure and confidence, saying as much.
"Above all, only sensations like pain are shared. No need to worry about mishaps."
"..."
Convinced by the smile, Rishir nodded.
'Well, what's the worst that could happen?'
Former Swordmaster.
Hero party.
Fanatics.
If he could endure it, that brilliant lineup surely could too.
"Let's begin."
And then.
"...Done."
"...?"
Done?
What was done?
A subtle mana flow occurred, but that was all.
A high-grade core filled by this?
They blankly stared at Rishir.
His usual nonchalant face.
Drip.
"?"
Then, blood poured from every orifice of that nonchalant face.
No.
Blood gushed out.
Gurgle.
Violently, like a severed artery.
Amid it, Rishir grinned cheekily and said,
"Since you're all helping, I went all out this time."
"...?"
All out?
Hella felt an indescribable foreboding at his words and checked the high-grade core.
The deep crimson liquid, mere traces before, was filling at an unbelievable speed.
"..."
Oh.
Lord of the Fallen.
It was the moment Hella murmured in a daze.
Thump!
The ritual linking them activated.
"Ah."
One True One rolled back her eyes and collapsed.
Thud.
Bodies hit the grass here and there.
"Everyone?"
As if lightning struck a rod and scattered everywhere.
Rishir looked around in panic.
Hella.
Dwen.
Jane.
Felix.
Aside from those four, all were unconscious, bodies convulsing.
Even those four were writhing in agony, on the verge of blacking out.
"...!"
Rishir felt hands grasping his legs.
"Ah...! Ah...!"
Hella.
Collapsed right before him, she clung to his legs with all her might to endure the pain.
No trace of the fanatic reveling in agony.
Then,
"Huh?"
Rishir looked down at his hand.
"This feeling..."
A sudden surge of immense elation as his tier rose.
Simultaneously, a refreshing sensation like being reborn.
That mystical feeling engulfed Rishir's body.
And—
that sensation transmitted directly to the others via the ritual.
Heave.
Heave!
Those writhing in pain moments ago now writhed in ecstasy.
Overflowing sighs and moans leaked from all directions.
"...No."
Rishir stood alone, blankly surveying the surroundings.
He looked up at the sky in bewilderment.
"What the hell is all this."
His clueless face was smeared in blood.