Chapter 43
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 43
Chapter Title: You're So Pretty
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Lancelot's swordsmanship was steadfast. Spot an opening, and he'd slash it apart. An incoming attack? He'd bat it away with a clean sword path.
Even if enemies swarmed from all sides, it was fine.
He trusted himself to cover every inch of his territory with his blade.
Heavy yet swift. He'd block simultaneous assaults while his rooted lower body stayed rock-solid.
A calm, unyielding sword unlike his personality carved through foes and parried blows, advancing step by step.
"Warrior! What is your name!"
A sturdy steppe warrior wielding a massive halberd stood in the path cleared by parting enemies, staring down Lancelot.
Lancelot met his gaze squarely.
"Lancelot Verstappen."
"Your eyes are different from when you were fleeing... I am Ramaksa, the Bison Splitter!"
The two men charged without another word.
The enormous halberd, radiating aura, swept horizontally.
Lancelot sensed the overwhelming force but didn't retreat. Giving ground meant failing to protect.
He activated his own aura and struck the incoming halberd aside.
But upon contact, his steadfast sword path wavered under the brute power.
The halberd grazed past, carving a gash across his solar plexus.
He deflected the next diagonal strike, but his grip faltered, letting it score his body.
His friend was screaming in agony over there, yet here he was, pathetically flailing.
'I couldn't protect him because I'm weak...'
Struck again.
'Is it okay to just trail behind like this?'
This time, he was shoved back, as if all his progress had been meaningless.
As if the path he'd carved meant nothing.
The skid marks on the ground looked like wounds.
Suddenly, Ramaksa sighed and slung his halberd over his shoulder.
"Thought you were a warrior, but you're just a greenhorn. Might as well finish you quick."
The familiar taunt snapped his mind awake.
'Why am I such a sorry state?'
A chuckle escaped him.
Lancelot thanked Ramaksa.
"Thanks."
Ramaksa grinned.
"No problem."
They charged again.
The attack came once more, but this time he poured every ounce of strength into flawless swordplay to block it clean.
His wavering path steadied, matching his resolve.
Outpowered? Channel more force. A blade to parry? Focus his whole body.
So what if he lagged? He'd guard the rear.
Weak? Grit his teeth.
Slipping? Press on.
No need for complications—just think straight, like always.
His sword quickened. Storms of wind and sword qi erupted between them, scattering outward.
"Good form, warrior!"
"Yeah, thanks, you bastard!"
They grinned at each other, swinging to their limits.
'Stronger! Stronger!'
Blood dripped from his sword hand, but so did his foe's.
Battle high numbed the pain of torn skin.
Wind scratched his eyes, but he stared his opponent down.
Finally, pain forgotten, a sword infused with superhuman force slashed foe and halberd alike on the diagonal.
True to cliché to the end, Ramaksa grinned.
"Excellent."
Lancelot, respecting the enemy, bowed his head.
"No problem."
Blood erupted from Ramaksa's body as he collapsed.
With resolve tempered stronger, Lancelot leaped into the enemy ranks.
Joy at reaching the entry to Sword Master? Set aside for now.
Poison bursting from the black magic circle engulfed all allies.
-Gah! Cough cough!
-Breath! Can't breathe!
-Urk!
"Everyone, hold your breath and fall back!"
Veronica shouted, but there was no escape in the chaotic battlefield.
Like black ink bleeding into clear water, they were slowly devoured by the enemy's overwhelming numbers.
No strength left to press forward.
Even with the reason for living screaming in torment ahead, the frail child couldn't advance.
Veronica prayed right there, imagining the goddess.
'Goddess... My everything is captured by those fiends over there, writhing in agony. Help us, please!'
Silence. This place with its weak connection let neither voice nor prayer through.
As despair crept in amid the encroaching poison mist and enemies, Liam's agonized scream echoed in her mind.
It jolted her awake like a splash of cold water.
'How long will I just beg the goddess for salvation...? I have to save the Apostle myself!'
Veronica dashed to the enemy front, dropped to her knees, and prayed.
Releasing all her holy power, she prayed endlessly with the will to overcome this trial.
Holy light radiated from her, pushing back the poison mist and healing allies.
-Th-this is...!
-My wounds are healing! Everyone, charge again!
-Protect that priest!
Morale soared at the miracle unfolding before them; they charged.
But her squeezed-dry holy power teetered on the brink.
As her mind blurred and exhaustion dragged her down, Veronica inexplicably pictured not the goddess, but Liam.
She bit her tongue viciously to stay conscious—recover, bite again, grind through.
Suddenly, radiant light pierced the sky. Light exploding from her formed a dome enveloping allies and repelling foes.
She extended a hand toward the heretics, and a massive beam from heaven incinerated them without trace.
The knights wept like devotees witnessing a miracle.
-Everyone, follow the Saint!
-Protect the Saint who beheld God's miracle!
-God is with us!
Amid the clamor, Veronica's mind was already...
'Apostle! I'm coming right now!'
"Ark sen mus!"
"Ruchan devara hook!"
"Etanta hutu makssos!"
⟨ Gibberish Incantation ⟩
"...?!"
In the chaotic battlefield, the one methodically blocking the blue assassin's attacks with bizarre chants was Owen Arsene.
Provisional head of the grand ducal house, soon to lead it on his coming-of-age. Unfortunately...
"You bastard! What the hell is that chanting?! How are you blocking my attacks?!"
"For some reason, your pathetic strikes are crystal clear."
"!?!"
The assassin dropped invisibility, yelling in outrage, but to Owen's senses, the enemy's form was undeniably vivid.
"I hid my aura sense, body heat, mana, sound, presence—everything! Impossible!"
"I see it... Dorutomakto!"
Imaginary spars with Lancelot, combined with his divine acting and freakish genius, let him predict the unseen.
If Liam saw, he'd wail: 'With that computational power and imagination as a swordsman? Shatter your aura core now, Owen! Become a mage!' But Liam was over there, captured and screaming.
Fuming at the string of eerily accurate predictions, the assassin bellowed.
"I'll show you! My ultimate technique! Erase my very existence from the world!"
At the assassin's declaration, Owen closed his eyes and calmly raised his sword.
Existence erased? Nothing came to mind. But...
"En taro adun!"
-Stab!
"Gah! How in the world..."
Feeling his worldview crumble, the assassin glared in disbelief.
Owen spoke.
"Just figured you'd be there."
Words that pulverized the assassin's world.
Unable to even close his eyes in resentment, the assassin gasped.
"Crazy bastard..."
Yeah, crazy bastard fits...
Owen nodded and plunged into the enemy ranks.
For the friends who completed him.
-Waaah!
-Charge!
-The Saint is with us!
"Adjutant, how many dead?"
"Around 4,000 troops so far, sir..."
Serimuk let out an incredulous chuckle.
Then he looked down at me.
"Perfect. Watch closely as your comrades get torn apart. Then die with them."
"...!!!"
Pain left no room for reply.
Serimuk tapped his staff on the ground again, accelerating the veins.
"!!!!!!"
Pain doubled.
Eyes flashed wide, straining to stifle screams flushed my face red, pressure bulging my eyeballs.
The liquid infiltrated faster; my circle seemed gripped, refusing to turn.
But I had to endure—before Serimuk harmed my precious ones.
In agony, I introspected my body.
Mana circuits that once flowed smoothly forward stalled. Mana that obeyed my will stood inert.
The infiltrating red liquid eroded chaotically, disorderly, reverse through the circuits.
-Aaaah! Serimuk!
-Ulushaman! You must survive!
-Hwaaaang! Mommy!
-Kyaaa! Please! Spare me!
Hallucinated screams now from unknown sources.
'First, find this energy's law.'
Eyes closed, max concentration—but surging pain disrupted.
Still, tears of blood streaming, I kept observing.
As Serimuk ascended, the Empire's banner appeared beyond.
Despairing torment, yet relief somewhere.
Empire forces advanced in knife-sharp formation, filling the snowfield. Their overwhelming numbers' valor chilled the enemy.
-"Great warriors of the Luminaria Empire! Show these vile scum defiling our lands the Emperor's iron fist!"
-Waaaaaaah!
-Charge!
"Grrr... All forces! Consume the blood elixir!"
Serimuk ground his teeth, sending the command via mana.
The barbarians swiftly swallowed round elixirs from their pouches; black veins rose, bodies swelling.
"Full army, charge! Reclaim our land from the usurpers!"
Tidal waves of troops collided.
Roars echoed, blades tore flesh, spells flew, blanketing the world.
Blood soaked snow, hot spilling melted it into muck.
In the chaotic din, a tiny rule surfaced.
'This energy... always erodes reverse.'
Red liquid and influx reversed order, counterflowing the body.
To impose order on this upstream chaos...
'Hoo... Imagine the world upside down... then...'
Alone in an inverted world, I reversed the circle entirely.
Impossible normally, but immense malice and reverse energy forged the new path.
The circle spun reverse, fiercely responsive.
Inflow reversed fiercely, erasing pain, infusing vigor.
Nature's pure mana scrubbed the malice clean.
Hallucinations faded; time slowed.
Near-frozen world: comrades battling Serimuk, Empire and barbarians clashing weapons.
I spun harder; vision bleached white. In the flipped world, endless falling freefall.
Like plummeting from the sky.
After long drop, someone grabbed my hand.
"Oh my, baby! Already here? A bit early!"
Hand caught, footing formed; I flailed to stand.
A warm, vibrant voice called.
She resembled what Lumié might grow into.
Not to get lost in beauty, I scanned around: structures of mingled yet distinct colors asserted presence.
Anyone would see...
"Goddess...?"
"Yep!"
Encounter with Lady Redianers, the Church of Light's chief deity.
Situation assessment: always max effort!
Last chance—I rapid-fired words.
"Goddess! What's Lumié? Imperial Bloodline secret? Why endless heretics? Me and Jenia from you? Why am I here! Forehead tingle last time—you!? Why to Veronica?"
"Uh...?"
Rude, but time scarce in this pinch.
Hospital-honed cliché radar! Deploy full throttle.
"If you sent me, thanks! Really... I'm trying hard..."
True feelings slipped out.
Always wanted to say it.
She smiled warmly, stroking my head.
"Hehe, baby! Calm down first—heard your prayers?"
"Yes..."
"Can't answer everything... don't be disappointed."
"It's fine."
"Lumié's a sort of key—feed and raise her well!"
"Key? For...?"
"No more..."
Her fingers crossed an X.
Headshake: even goddess couldn't say.
I nodded acceptance.
No point prying unanswerables—wastes time.
"Imperial Bloodline... your father will explain when time comes."
"Got it."
"Heretics... sigh, that 'great one' keeps churning them—easy meddler..."
'Daehan, that motherfucker!!!!'
Suppressed rage surge, nodded.
"You and the kids..."
Trailed off, shook head.
Monstrous hint—'kids' plural, maybe...
I shook head fiercely.
"Hehe, you're here 'cause your soul's rank rose—nabbed you mid-ascension. Would've vanished otherwise?"
"Thank you! Thank you!"
Botched ascension nearly killed me.
Genuine gratitude.
"Forehead: bounced you back pre-soul crumble from low rank. Chat with Veronica often... always feel bad for her."
"Huh? She never mentioned oracles."
"Better silent in mortal realm—causality laws. Like 'heaven's secret spilled'! So don't bug Veronica."
Hmm... Silence is golden, as ever.
"Anything else?"
Straight into her eyes.
One burning question.
"What's my mission?"
She beamed proudly.
"Get strong. Lead people, break fate's chains. Write history with your tale, raise your soul's rank... surpass even me. You can do it."
She drew me gently into embrace.
"Baby, always thankful... for aiding imperfect me, for enduring strange lands, bravely overcoming, saving fates... everything..."
Tears pricked.
Felt like a kid again.
"You're the best! Great answers, gorgeous, and I love this world! I'll protect it no matter what!"
"Oh my my? So pretty~"
-Smack!
Goddess pecked my forehead lightly, waving.
"Baby, build that rank—come often! Pray with Veronica too!"
Floating sensation returned; I fell.
Ah, my light, my salvation, my salt.
I'll return for sure. Surely.
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