Chapter 126
Chapter 126
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 126
Chapter Title: The Road to the North (4)
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The carriage kept moving without a break.
Snow was already falling outside the window I'd peeked through. Even in midsummer, snow was falling—a sign that the North wasn't far off.
'It won't be long now.'
With that thought, I turned my head.
Rak, sitting beside me, was hanging his head and repeating the same sentence over and over.
"The strongest mage is the Ashen Mage... the strongest mage is..."
He looked like he'd been brainwashed.
Rak slowly lifted his head, mumbling as if entranced. His eyes suggested he had more he wanted to ask.
"What?"
"Um, Professor Lania."
Rak's eyes sparkled as he asked.
"A little about the Hero, Kyle..."
The moment Kyle's name came up, I frowned. My face crumpled like I'd bitten into a bug. It was such a natural reaction that I didn't bother hiding it.
"...Why ask me?"
"Well, didn't you say you exchanged letters with the Ashen Mage?"
"I did."
"So, I thought maybe there were stories about the Hero..."
"...There were."
Rak's eyes lit up.
He looked eager for details. I sighed inwardly. I'd seen plenty like Rak before. There were quite a few in the knight order too.
'Guys with way too many illusions about Kyle.'
I couldn't exactly blame them.
The Holy Church had pushed Kyle hard on purpose. They hired bards to sing of his exploits. They deified him as the incarnation of Delorhim.
'That amped up the illusions a bit...'
But it wasn't just that.
From an outsider's view, Kyle really looked the part of a proper Hero. The starlight overflowing from his body symbolized victory. When he was on the front lines, it made the knights forget their fear.
A symbol of sorts.
The symbol of victory, the unyielding shield of humanity.
'The embodiment of all Heroes.'
It wasn't strange that people like Rak got excited over stories of such a figure. But knowing Kyle's true nature... it left me with a profoundly odd feeling.
'He's just a dick-controlled bastard, plain and simple.'
Propping my chin, I spoke up.
"...So, what do you want to know?"
"How strong the Hero was, and what the Ashen Mage said about him. I'm curious."
I fell silent for a moment.
It was a question that couldn't be summed up in one word.
'He is strong.'
Compared to Heroes of the past, few could match Kyle's raw output. He was the first to slice off a black dragon's neck with that power.
But that was only about output.
If you asked if he was competent in every way... no, he wasn't.
'He could only unleash that output under specific conditions.'
Kyle wasn't omnipotent.
Unlike the illusions Rak and the battlefield knights held, he wasn't all-rounded. Far from perfect.
After a brief pause, I spoke.
"...To put it bluntly, she said he wasn't fit to be the Hero."
"...Pardon?"
Rak's eyes went wide.
I gave him a wry smile and asked.
"Rak, what do you think a Hero is?"
"Uh... a slayer of calamities?"
"That's right. Anything else?"
"Hm, guardian of humanity. Shield of mankind..."
"Yeah, a shield. A Hero has to be that."
I nodded.
A Hero is humanity's shield. On the front lines, a Hero has to be a protector.
"But she said Kyle wasn't that kind of Hero."
"If he wasn't that kind..."
"More like a spear. A spear."
I thrust my finger straight ahead.
"No looking back. Can't see the sides. Just charges straight ahead. But damn good at that one thing—a spear that excels at thrusting."
Kyle wasn't a protector.
Unlike past Heroes, he didn't have balanced stats across the board. He'd abandoned everything else to sharpen just one direction to a razor's edge.
Kyle was more assault trooper than Hero.
More biter and berserker than guardian.
"Doesn't care about the rear guard, doesn't worry about escape routes. Just charges blindly."
But his charges were reliable.
He'd once shredded three armored dragons at once and severed a heretic's arm in a flash—proof of that.
"So the Ashen Mage filled in what that one-trick Hero lacked."
I'd guarded the rear in his place.
I'd cleared paths so he could focus ahead.
I'd made ways for him to retreat.
'That was my role on the battlefield.'
With those conditions met, Kyle's output was trustworthy. When it meshed with the Star Sword that cleaved all... I'd seen the potential.
There really was potential.
He had the qualities of a Hero, and he grew steadily. Stronger with each passing day. Chasing after him with gritted teeth let me see it.
'Right before meeting the Demon King, before Kyle's fall.'
The second clash with the Blade of Death, Ganikalt.
At his absolute peak, Kyle held out against that monster for a full minute. I bought time by collapsing the canyon to bury Ganikalt alive.
'Of course, that monster bastard clawed his way out bare-handed...'
Either way, we'd escaped. And that day, I sensed it. My "maybe" hunch became conviction.
He couldn't even hold his sword at first.
But in the second clash, he'd endured the Blade of Death for a minute.
That gave me certainty.
'He can do it.'
If this bastard Kyle kept growing, kept walking the sword's path for 5 years, 10 years.
'He can claim the Blade of Death. And the Demon King beyond it.'
That's why I'd seen the potential.
That's why I couldn't let go of Kyle.
'But the fucker who could do it just won't, goddamn it.'
A fresh wave of frustration hit me.
'No matter how I think about it, wrong guy for the job.'
The stars pick filthy people.
If that power had gone to someone with saintly character instead of that lower-half-brained spearhead... we'd have another Four Heavenly King head by now.
'Fucking constellation bastard.'
I didn't voice the blasphemy.
Inwardly flipping off Delorhim's god, I shook my head.
"Mm..."
As I did, Rak groaned.
He wore a deeply conflicted expression.
"Um... it's kind of hard to understand..."
He looked like he'd heard something difficult.
More precisely, something hard to accept.
'Well, it's different from the Kyle he knows.'
I smiled wryly and opened my mouth.
"That's just how the Ashen Mage saw it. From your view or mine... he's undeniably incredibly strong."
Wrapping it up like that, I looked out the window. The snow had stopped. The carriage was crossing the snowfields now.
A single road cutting through the snowfields.
At its end loomed massive walls—the symbol of the North. The carriage halted before them.
"Looks like we've arrived."
Rak said.
The butler soon opened the door. Cold air rushed in. Peering out, I saw the butler standing in the white snowfield.
"Welcome to the North."
The land where people live with snow.
The warriors' land, the North.
The vast snowfields signaled the end of our journey.
2.
The northern lands surrounded by snow-capped mountains.
This place, blanketed in white snow everywhere, wasn't my first visit—of course. I'd come often in my sage days.
'It's been a while.'
That was my impression.
I'd visited sporadically, but not after retiring. The northern front rarely wavered.
Crunch.
After dismounting, we walked a bit.
Before entering the northern capital, Rak said he had a quick stop.
"You could wait in the carriage..."
"Nah, need to stretch. Been cooped up too long."
I walked the northern city's streets with Rak. People recognized him now and then.
"Young Master Rak!"
"How's the academy treating you...?"
Like a returning grandson, merchants pressed snacks into his hands.
"That looks tasty."
"Want some?"
"If you're offering."
They were like candies split from frozen fruit.
Chewing the tart treats, I followed Rak. How long had we walked? He stopped before a smithy on the city outskirts.
No snow piled around the smithy.
Heat radiated from outside.
"Coming in?"
"Go ahead."
Rak nodded and opened the door.
Hot wind blasted in, carrying the tang of iron.
"Kurak."
Rak called a name.
A middle-aged man emerged from inside. Scarred hands gripped the doorframe.
"Finally here. Been waiting, young master."
"Long time. Kurak."
After a light fist bump with Rak, he turned to me.
"And this is?"
"My professor at Aphria. Father invited her north."
Kurak stroked his chin with a hum, then stuck out his hand.
"Kurak. Blacksmith."
"Lania."
I shook it.
He'd offered, but when I gripped first, he blinked in surprise.
"Come in."
The smithy was packed with weapons. Glancing at the wall-lined arms, I was impressed inwardly.
'...All top quality.'
Uncle Kuntel had dragged me to smithies, insisting I try swords. It honed my eye—I could spot fine blades.
Unlike capital smithies.
p>No flashiness. No ceremonial showpieces. Just plain, honest weapons.
Sizzle.
Kurak stopped in a hotter area—the workshop.
"Hand it over."
He held out his hand. Rak silently drew his axe from his belt and placed it there. Kurak took it to the workbench.
I asked Rak casually.
"Here for repairs?"
"Yeah. Come every six months."
Rak nodded toward Kurak.
"He's the one who forged my axe. The North's best blacksmith."
"Figures. It looks good."
"Yeah, doesn't dull without care... but he insists I visit. Not sure why."
A sigh came from the workshop.
"Why do you think? Told you last time, young master."
Kurak said.
"No matter the materials or smith's skill... no weapon lasts forever. Skip maintenance, and rust sets in quick."
Clang—he tapped the axe lightly.
"A weapon's a warrior's companion. It mirrors the warrior. Stop training, and a warrior falls. Neglect a weapon, and it breaks."
He scraped off the grime.
Dunking the blade in cold water, then honing it, Kurak tossed us a line.
"Once it starts breaking, it crumbles fast. That's why preventive care matters."
...Somehow.
'Somehow, it hits home.'
I narrowed my eyes.
It resonated. As I nodded with a hum.
"Only divine weapons like the Star Sword, forged by the stars themselves, stay pristine without care."
Kurak shrugged.
"...Ahaha."
I chuckled unwittingly.
Kurak squinted at me.
"What's funny? Am I a joke?"
"No, just..."
I smiled wryly.
"Seems even the Star Sword rusts without maintenance."
"Good joke. How could a god-forged weapon rust?"
"Exactly."
If only it were a joke.
I mulled his words with a bitter smile.
'Stop honing, and people become useless. Weapons or warriors—same thing.'
So.
'Never stop the grind.'
I etched that line into my heart.
'...If I ever train a Hero, I'll work him nonstop. Keep the rust off.'
With that resolve, I watched Kurak hone the axe for a while.
3.
"Hic."
"...What?"
"No, just... feels ominous..."
Belnoa tilted her head at Chloe, who suddenly shuddered.
"Suddenly?"
"You know my senses are sharp, Belnoa. I feel super ominous now. Like... something bad's coming for me."
"Your senses are always wrong."
"No! This time it's real...! Hero's intuition. Hero's intuition!"
Chloe spread her arms wide.
"Nightmare! A nightmare's coming for me!"
"Did you stay up? What nonsense."
"I pulled an all-nighter reading novels...! But it's real! I have a hunch. A nightmare's coming...!"
Belnoa shook her head.
Chloe's nonsense wasn't new, so it wasn't worth hearing.
"Cut back on novels."
"It's not...!"
Just another ordinary day.
Author's Note
Surprisingly, no Hero has caught Skeval in centuries. He's been collected by Raniel, settling into a funny villain role...!
Skeval's a romantic skeleton.
Pretty strong, yeah.
*09/19 12:06 AM (Notice added)
Maybe not the weakest of the Four Heavenly Kings...!
If the 'main body' not the Life Vessel jumps in, who knows...!
Fight on, Skeval!