Chapter 113
Chapter 113
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 113
Chapter Title: Human Determination (2)
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Black Mage Tower Lord, Yetoal.
For a long time, the mage devoted to the path of magic suddenly reflected on his own life. Yetoal had never once considered himself weak.
‘Competed with countless mages.’
There were geniuses hailed as genius mages. Mountains of them. In the end, after clashing with all those mages, Yetoal claimed the seat of Black Mage Tower Lord.
He never grew complacent in his talent.
He put in effort equal to the gifts he possessed.
Even those called geniuses strove harder than anyone. The path of magic that Yetoal had walked his entire life was beautiful. Worthy of being called perfect. He had never doubted that fact.
Yet now, he felt powerless.
He was experiencing an emotion he had never felt in his lifetime.
"......"
His gaze turned toward the city walls.
Mana swirled wildly. Flashes of light burst forth, followed by thunderous roars echoing one after another. That place was already another world.
‘I can’t intervene.’
Just watching made death feel palpable.
Cold sweat trickled down his spine. Yetoal felt fear. A realm beyond what any mere human could dream of lay there.
‘No, it’s not impossible.’
If he steeled himself to throw away his life. If he resolved to sacrifice everything he had built in an instant. Then he could step into that realm, if only for a moment.
However, Yetoal did not do so.
He had neither reason nor courage.
"......Impressive."
And so, he could only express admiration.
-Lend me those magic tools, please.
Directing his praise toward the figure who had plunged into that place with a mere human body, Yetoal offered his awe.
-I beg you.
Those final words lingered in his ears. Intense eyes filled with resolve flickered before him. Yetoal recalled the magic tools he had so readily lent to him.
The essence of the Black Mage Tower.
Magic tools engraved with dozens of spells.
Their value was astronomical.
Whatever price was named became their worth. They were masterpieces Yetoal had crafted over a lifetime. Never something to lend to an outsider.
Yet, for some reason.
-Take them.
Yetoal had handed them over to the hunter dog.
Without asking for anything in return.
For someone as cold, calculating, and profit-minded as Yetoal, it was unimaginable that he had done such a thing.
"......I must have lost my mind for a moment."
Muttering that, Yetoal’s expression wasn’t bad at all. If anything, he felt refreshed inside.
‘It couldn’t be helped.’
That’s what Yetoal concluded.
He had witnessed a single human staking his life. Seen eyes resolved to burn their very existence. Borne witness to human determination.
It was like a brilliant light.
Humans are drawn to that radiant light. Enraptured by it. Sometimes driven to actions that don’t suit them.
"......There’s a lot to take care of."
Yetoal sighed inwardly.
The end of the night approached.
Beyond the city walls, the sun was about to rise.
2.
Charr-rung!
Kalt swung the hand gripping the chain sword. The chain swayed dramatically. Kuntel’s body, bound to it, shook along with it. Kalt glared with wide eyes.
‘He’s already crossed the walls.’
Slipping through the gap and leaping off the walls together had succeeded. All that remained was to hurl him as far away as possible. He had to prevent him from climbing back up.
Shing.
However, the opponent was a Sword Master.
Because they could swing their sword in any situation, they were called superhumans of the blade.
Slash!
The sharp sword strike severed the chain. It didn’t stop there. Kuntel twisted his body midair and swung his blade. Even without proper footing, the slash was impossibly keen.
Splat.
"Urk!"
Kalt twisted his body reflexively.
The sword’s wind grazed his ear. Blood sprayed. The ground rushed up before him. Kalt barely managed a landing roll.
Thud!
Kuntel landed right behind him.
Dust billowed up. On the plain littered with wall debris, Kalt ground his teeth.
‘......Of course it wouldn’t go according to plan.’
It was a problem he had already anticipated.
Kalt checked the magic tool in his mouth. The filter purifying the demonic energy was working properly.
‘......Performance is solid.’
He moved his arms and legs. The magic tools supporting his body functioned perfectly as well.
"......Hoo."
Exhaling briefly, Kalt peered through the dust. Within it, Kuntel was slowly rising.
Sword Master, Kuntel.
A familiar turned from his corpse.
Recognizing it at a glance, Kalt gritted his teeth and assessed Kuntel’s condition.
‘Fortunately, he’s not in normal shape.’
One-eyed.
Pus oozed from the gouged eye. Both arms were broken and mangled, and the hand gripping the sword was far from whole. Thumb and index finger looked ready to tear off.
In comparison, what about himself?
Thanks to the Black Tower Lord’s array of magic tools, vitality surged through his body. All his senses were sharp as honed blades. A state worthy of being called peak condition.
However.
‘I can’t win.’
Kalt was certain.
Kalt wielded the sword as well. He had trained in it. Thus, he knew the weight carried by the name Sword Master Kuntel.
The strongest Sword Master.
The legendary swordsman who had crossed blades with the Sword of Death. Kalt himself had once received guidance from that proud swordsman.
‘......A truly remarkable man.’
Proud swordsman.
A superhuman of the blade with noble ideals.
To all who wielded the sword, Sword Master Kuntel was an ideal in himself.
Different from the Hero.
Knight might admire the Hero, but they didn’t dream of becoming one. The Hero was a miracle chosen by the stars.
In contrast, what of Kuntel?
No one had chosen him.
He had ascended to superhuman ranks through endless effort. Honed his life for a single purpose. At the end of that life, Kuntel achieved greatness.
An accomplishment as a human.
Thus, an even more shining feat.
Many had aspired to be like him. Kalt was one of them. Kalt respected Kuntel.
That’s why.
Anger surged toward the familiar before him. He couldn’t bear seeing the body of that proud swordsman defiled like this. Yet he didn’t show it.
He suppressed it.
Breathing calmly, Kalt readjusted his grip on his sword.
‘Forgive me, Sir Kuntel.’
Because he couldn’t defeat you.
But he had to stop you.
He had to keep you from scaling these walls.
‘I will block you with everything I have.’
Kalt offered an inner apology.
Knowing it was the bare minimum courtesy.
‘Please forgive this rudeness.’
Kuntel lowered his sword.
A motion Kalt had seen countless times. The blade dragged across the ground, approaching sharply. It sliced through the dust and surged upward.
Clang!
Kalt countered it.
Blade met blade. Kalt was pushed back. But even yielding ground, he didn’t retreat.
‘I have to hold.’
For a single purpose, Kalt staked his life.
Just as Raniel did atop the walls.
3.
Crunch.
She reached out and seized Gletus’s arm. After stripping away dozens of layers of tentacles, she touched bare flesh. Raniel tore the heretic’s arm free with all her might.
Snap, crack-crack!
It wasn’t the feel of ripping flesh. More like tearing rags. With a chilling sensation, the heretic’s arm came off.
‘Finally reached it.’
Gazing at the severed arm, Raniel sensed victory. But she didn’t let her guard down. She understood precisely what she lacked.
‘I don’t have a holy sword.’
Perfectly severing it was impossible.
Sure enough, black sludge oozed stickily from the stump. It remained connected to the heretic.
"You won’t do."
The heretic whispered.
Raniel swung her fist at the sludge. It didn’t break. More tentacles poured endlessly from it.
"Because you weren’t chosen by the stars. Because you’re not the Hero. You won’t do. You can’t sever it."
The heretic said.
Raniel paid no heed.
‘I’ve heard it enough to sicken me.’
Many had told Raniel the same.
That she wasn’t the Hero. That no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t reach the calamity. Yet Raniel had always found answers.
Ashes to ashes.
Ashes ground to fuel.
The stench of burning tentacles stabbed her nose.
Step.
Raniel advanced beyond the roaring flames. With each step, wounds tore open. Blood poured out.
‘My body’s at its limit.’
She knew.
‘I can’t burn more lifespan.’
She knew that too.
Her soul was worn. No one knew that better than Raniel herself.
‘Even if I burn lifespan, I can’t throw away decades at a time like before.’
The day she offered half her life before the Demon King.
That day she burned decades of life, her soul and body had already been damaged. The price of bearing power beyond limits wore her soul thin.
Even if her body changed.
Even if her soul mutated...
Once worn, it didn’t return.
No issue normally. But moments like now, reaching for the unbearable, forced her to confront it.
‘This is the final line.’
Cross it, and die.
But she couldn’t die yet. Too much left to do. A cornered human ponders.
What she could do.
And what was given to her.
Raniel’s eyes flashed. Light gleamed in her blue irises. Her narrowed gaze seized the momentum.
Thud!
Determination moved her body.
Smite.
Flashes poured down. Tentacles emerging from flames were pierced by Smite and vanished. Raniel took a step forward. Blood sprayed.
Smash.
A hole punched through the wave of charging tentacles. The horde scattered. Another step forward.
Kieeeek!
A shelled dragon lunged with jaws wide. Raniel plunged inside. Burst out from within, shattering it. Just as Hero Kyle once did.
Step.
Her pace was slow.
Slow, but steady, one step at a time. Even vomiting blood, her gait didn’t falter.
Nothing could stop Raniel.
Hundreds of tentacles surged like waves, yet she pierced even that. Her body was sluggish. Flesh at its limit. Thus, Raniel pursued efficiency.
"......I see."
The heretic let out a laugh.
A wistful laugh reminiscing the past.
"You’ve even come to resemble this."
What moved that body was determination.
Thud!
Finally, Raniel reached Gletus.
Her gaze fixed on the sludge dripping from the heretic’s shoulder.
Flash.
Starlight gathered in Raniel’s hand. Remnants left from burning life. Melding the dregs of starlight, Raniel formed a single beam.
The final strike.
Raniel widened her eyes.
‘The goal is to sever.’
She had to cut the sludge.
What form best suited that? Raniel found the answer in what she had seen.
Holy Sword.
She vaguely outlined its shape.
The light beam in her hand sharpened to a razor edge. Raniel swung her arm lightly. A platinum glow trailed.
Slash.
The beam sliced through the sludge. The light scattered into the air. Only the severing remained. The heretic’s eyes widened at the dissipating glow.
"Ah, really now......"
She closed and opened her eyes.
With an ecstatic expression, she spoke.
"Your victory."
All familiars vanished.
The heretic’s body crumbled. The link anchoring her to reality was severed.
"Ahh, such a pity."
The heretic reached out with her remaining hand. It caressed Raniel’s cheek. Raniel couldn’t swat it away. Not even the strength to twitch a finger remained.
"One more step, and you could have killed me. Child, you fell just one step short."
She whispered into Raniel’s ear in a giddy voice.
"But it’s not failure."
Gletus’s heart throbbed.
A thread of light extracted from the heart. Claimed by the scales.
"My last chance slipped away. That’s why I needed a child like me... but even that failed."
She licked her lips regretfully.
"Ashes."
Gletus’s green eyes gleamed.
"Next time, will you come find me?"
"Definitely."
Raniel answered the whisper.
"I’ll kill you for sure."
"I’ll be waiting."
Soon, the heretic’s body scattered.
......The heretic was defeated by a single human. The human triumphed alone over a calamity that had lived eternity. She protected the city and thwarted the calamity’s goal.
A feat.
Worthy of being called a feat.
However.
Crunch.
The human wasn’t satisfied.
Unsatisfied, she felt frustration. Eyes wide, she stared long at where the heretic had vanished.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ It’s over.
I exhaled shortly. With the pent-up breath, strength drained from my legs. I collapsed onto the wall’s parapet with a thud.
"Cough, hack."
I spat out the bone shard crunching in my mouth.
After coughing up a couple clots stuck in my throat, breathing finally eased.
‘Fucking hurts.’
I leaned my head against the turret rubble.
Burned more lifespan again. Not much, but thinking of the aftermath made my head throb.
"......Fucking hell."
As always, curses slipped through my lips. I let out a long sigh.
I hadn’t killed the heretic.
Just one step short.
‘......Still, not without gains.’
I slowly raised my arm.
In my hand, I gripped the torn-off arm of Gletus. For some reason, this alone hadn’t vanished with the heretic.
‘Second time severing an arm.’
But different from the first.
Then, the Sword of Death had reclaimed Gletus’s arm. Not this time.
‘There’s some reason.’
Worth researching.
Clutching Gletus’s arm, I slowly stood. From the half-ruined wall, I looked down outside.
‘Kalt.’
Kalt had intervened at the last moment. Dragged the familiar off the wall. Without Kalt, victory wouldn’t have been possible.
‘Hope he’s safe.’
Thinking that, I started walking.
Stepping over wall debris, I descended below. First in view was the open plain.
Step.
Didn’t need to go far.
A long scar like a sword slash marked the ground. I walked toward the gouged, split earth.
"Ah, you’ve come."
There was Kalt.
Leaning against cracked wall rubble, he waved at me.
"......"
I stared at Kalt silently.
A long scar ran from Kalt’s jaw to his eye. Shattered magic tool fragments littered the ground.
"Kek, cough."
Kalt coughed up a blood clot.
He was as gravely wounded as me. Dragging my broken leg, I walked to him.
"Whoa. You look like a proper zombie."
"And you?"
"This is fine."
Wiping blood from his mouth, Kalt mimed swinging his arm to show he was okay. But his face crumpled the instant he did.
"Ugh."
"Sigh."
I sighed and sat beside Kalt. Leaning against the same wall, I slowly spoke.
"......Thanks."
"Live long enough, and you hear thanks from you, Senior."
"What? I say it plenty."
Kalt chuckled.
I asked him.
"Why’d you charge in?"
"Pardon?"
"You could’ve died. No, surviving’s the miracle. Opponent was a Sword Master."
"Yeah. Man, so like Sir Kuntel. Thought I was dead for real."
"You nearly were."
"......"
"Why’d you do it?"
No reason for you to.
I looked at Kalt. He didn’t look at me. Staring at the distant sky, he said.
"Well."
Kalt shrugged.
"You staked your life, didn’t you, Senior?"
"......"
"Burned lifespan, right? Knowing your personality."
Kalt grinned playfully.
"You up front burning lifespan, how could I stand by? Had to do something."
"You retired, dude."
"So’d you, Senior."
"......Can’t argue with that."
A chuckle escaped me.
"Well, it worked out."
"Yeah."
Kalt offered his fist.
I bumped mine against it lightly.
"Ow."
"Ugh."
Even a light bump, but both half-crippled as we were, groans slipped out. It was ridiculous, and we burst into laughter.
"Good work, Kalt."
"You too, Senior."
Leaning against the wall rubble, we gazed beyond the plain. The sun rose over the horizon.
The sun rises.
The long night ends, morning comes.
The dawn in the night city of Cardinac felt strangely poignant. Watching the rising sun, I muttered absently.
"......Gotta raise it harder. Grind it more."
"Pardon? What’s that mean?"
"Just something."
Author's Note
This episode was written because I wanted to show this side of Raniel at least once. The content was a bit heavy... I just hope you enjoyed it ㅠㅠ
*Packed in plenty of content! Heehee