Chapter 151
Chapter 151
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 151
Chapter Title: The North, Epilogue (Part 1)
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Below the Kurakt Mountains.
The snowy plains bordering the nearby village.
"The winds in the North are really nice."
Raniel murmured that as she clasped her hands behind her back.
With each step she took, there was a soft crunch of snow underfoot.
"Don't you think? Cool and just the right amount of chill... The drifting snowflakes are pretty nice too. Yeah. Right?"
Crunch, crunch.
The steady sound of snow being trodden continued, but Raniel wasn't making much progress forward. She was just circling the same spot.
"This is what you'd call a scenic view. What else could it be? If it looks beautiful, it's a scenic view. In that sense, the North is a great place for tourism. Really."
Momentarily pausing.
After circling the same spot about three times.
Raniel lifted her head. She gazed at the figure standing at the center of the round trail of footprints.
"Yes, please go on. Senior."
The pursuer, Kalt.
Her old subordinate staring at her with hollow eyes.
Those eyes were so sunken that if a priest from the church were here, they might mistake him for an undead and casually unleash a purification spell.
"Hm..."
He looked just like an undead.
Gazing at her old subordinate, who had grown gaunt in the time since they'd last met, Raniel offered an awkward smile. Seeing Kalt like this stirred a twinge of guilt.
'Maybe I should say something to cheer him up.'
Raniel racked her brain for the right words.
Having traveled in a party for so long, she surely remembered tossing a comforting word or two at Kyle when he was down.
'Think positively.'
Nodding slightly, Raniel opened her mouth.
"So what I'm saying is."
"Yes, Senior."
"Your face is too pale. How about thinking positively since it's come to this? Pretend it's a vacation or a sightseeing trip. Wouldn't that be better? Right?"
Kalt's expression hardened further.
Good intentions don't always make good words. At the mention of "tourism," Kalt's eyebrow twitched.
'...Tourism? That?'
What flashed through Kalt's mind was the grueling journey to reach the North. It was anything but a vacation.
'No rush carriages heading north, and of course a blizzard hits, wrecking all the roads.'
So how did he get here?
Kalt was a veteran soldier. Having once served on the battlefield, he quickly knew the answer.
'March through the blizzard.'
March without rest.
March sacrificing sleep.
Walk and walk and walk some more.
'It was an exhausting journey. Extremely so.'
In the process, Kalt had a moment to reminisce about his battlefield days... but it wasn't a pleasant memory. Not at all.
"Tourism..."
Kalt let out a chuckle.
A smile tugged at his lips, but his eyes remained unchanged. It made for a deeply unsettling laugh as he spoke.
"Senior."
"...Yeah."
"What the hell is all this?"
Kalt gestured ahead.
Raniel glanced over. Kalt glared at the snowy plains with his hollow eyes.
Scattered sword scars etched chaotically.
An altar placed at the center of the sword marks.
The bodies were cleared, but small traces still lingered.
"This wasn't me."
"...Then what's that?"
This time, he pointed at the snowy mountain ahead.
A massive hole gaped in the ridge. It was huge enough to see from a distance. It seemed like an effort had been made to carve it into a cliff to minimize damage below... but the scale was anything but ordinary.
"Ugh..."
Raniel's lips twitched.
After a brief silence, she spoke.
"That one..."
"Yes."
"Yeah, that was me. It was, but it's not my fault. Really. That crazy Sword Ghost bastard..."
"Senior."
Kalt muttered weakly.
His voice dripped with exhaustion.
"Why are you doing this to me... seriously..."
But at this moment, Kalt didn't yet know.
That there was far more to be shocked about.
That what he faced now was just the tip of the iceberg.
"There's still something I haven't told you..."
Raniel beckoned with her finger.
As if issuing a command to someone. And someone obeyed. Seeing it, Kalt's face drained of color.
Thwack. Kalt smacked his own forehead.
"What the hell is this now..."
A groan-like lament echoed across the snowy plains.
2.
After hearing my explanation, Kalt fell silent for a while. He closed his eyes, seemingly lost in thought. After a bit of time passed, he opened them.
"Indeed, I needed to hear this."
"Hard to explain in words."
"Honestly, this time it's hard to say anything. Whether to call it an accident or a good thing... it's ambiguous."
Kalt wore a deeply subtle expression.
His gaze turned to the Sword Ghost standing on the snowy plains. Draka, stripped of self-will, was like a puppet. A puppet faithfully obeying commands.
"...A puppet obeying commands, you said."
"That's what the subordination contract is."
"I don't know much about that contract. But one thing is clear..."
Kalt smiled bitterly.
"It seems like the kind of spell that would be banned."
"I think so too. Even after doing it, it feels off. Like I did something I shouldn't have."
"What do you have to feel bad about, Senior? The Sword Ghost himself wanted it... and this might even be better."
This might be better.
The sentence carried multiple meanings.
"Hoo..."
Letting out a sigh, Kalt continued.
"...Certainly, from the Knight Order's perspective, the Sword Ghost is a valuable asset. Now that you've retired from the front lines, Senior, every superhuman counts."
"Yeah."
"That's why there was a tendency to tacitly overlook his atrocities... but now there's no need."
Kalt's eyes drifted to Draka's waist.
There hung a single sword. The one Draka always carried. The sheath holding the broken blade swayed in the wind.
A broken blade.
A sword mirroring Draka's current state.
"This is better for the Knight Order. And not just them—from humanity's standpoint too."
But, Kalt added.
"Personally, I think dying might have been better."
"That's the nature of that contract from the start."
That's why it's called a punishment worse than death.
A contract that utterly crushes human dignity.
"I went on too long. My feelings are a bit mixed."
"Makes sense."
It's an emotion that can't be summed up in one word.
Sharing similar thoughts with Kalt, we silently gazed at Draka and the snowy plains for a while. The ill-fitting contemplation didn't last long.
We both had much to do.
Kalt began clearing the altar and nearby traces, while I re-engraved the command authority into the circuit.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Contract change confirmed. The subordination contract was hard to form but remarkably flexible once established. Hard to believe a star-intervened contract could be so lenient.
Thanks to that, the work finished quickly.
I infused mana into the completed circuit.
"I limited command authority to Heinkel Uncle. No need to create multiple."
"I'll inform the Knight Commander."
And so the incident drew to a close. Our journey in the North was nearing its end.
3.
Hameln Village near the Kurakt Mountains.
A funeral was held for the villagers of Hameln slain by the Holy Knights. The joint rite, led by the Northern Duke, took on a somewhat different form.
"No aid from any priest."
The Duke, Eryahl, declared firmly.
The North didn't believe in gods, yet had borrowed priests' power for funerals. Not this time. It was tied to the Delorhim Church, so their aid was forbidden.
"That would be an insult."
The North never believed in gods to begin with, but this incident bred even greater distrust. The joint funeral followed ancient Northern rites.
Cremate the recovered remains and scatter them on the snowy mountains.
But not all the ashes are cast to the wind.
A handful is buried in the snow.
No grand tombs.
Only the weapons they wielded in life, or cherished possessions, stand as gravestones.
"The North is the land of warriors."
All are brave warriors who survived battling harsh environs. Even if they died old or ill, their history of resistance endures.
"Thus, I honor these brave warriors."
The elder who braved the blizzard to reach the capital.
The brave warrior who alerted the village to the raid.
The Duke personally buried a handful of the old man's bone dust in the warriors' holy site. Rak, standing beside him, planted the old man's weapon as a marker.
Hameln's brave warrior.
The Iron Man, Tugallit.
His name was engraved on the old man's blade.
Eryahl, Rak, and the warriors paid their respects to the brave soul. With that, the funeral concluded. The North returned to daily life.
The land of warriors, the North.
Warriors fulfill their roles to survive the frozen land. As always.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Hoo..."
Rak exhaled shortly as he changed clothes.
The unfamiliar attire made his body itch a bit. Stepping into formal settings was still unfamiliar to Rak. He couldn't get used to it.
"Hm."
After pacing the room in his new clothes, Rak opened the door and stepped out. He wandered aimlessly through Baekya Castle's corridors.
'Body feels fine.'
Maybe he should head to training. As he walked, a familiar back came into view.
"Professor Lania?"
Gently swaying ash-gray hair.
She turned at Rak's call. Blue eyes met his. For Rak, busy with funeral preparations and errands, it had been a while.
"Feeling okay?"
Rak nodded at Lania's question.
"You too, Professor Lania..."
Nothing much?
He started the rote pleasantry but stopped. The professor before him didn't seem the type to face trouble. Hadn't she crushed even that famed sword superhuman barehanded?
'...Superhuman.'
The topic brought something to mind.
Rak fell silent briefly. As he chose his words, Lania tilted her head.
"What, got something to ask?"
"Hm..."
Rak hesitated a moment.
"There's one thing I'd like to ask."
"What is it?"
Rak posed his question.
It was a doubt from before school even started, his first time at Aphria. Now, finally, he voiced it.
"Professor... who exactly are you?"
A mage wielding Balance freely.
The most perfect Battle Mage Rak had ever seen.
A mage capable of close combat with that notorious Hound.
All witnessed by Rak's own eyes.
Doubt had sprouted from them. Coming north turned it near to certainty. More precisely, from one event days ago.
'A mage who overwhelmed even the sword superhuman.'
As far as Rak knew, only one such mage existed.
"Could it be..."
Rak was about to speak his guess aloud, turning suspicion to fact, when Lania cut in. She interrupted him.
"Stop there."
Lania raised a finger to her lips.
"Better keep the rest in your head."
"...Pardon?"
"Or a scary person might come looking."
A scary person?
As Rak tilted his head.
"Who's this scary person?"
A voice came from behind Rak.
He whipped around. There stood the Hound he'd seen before. The man bowed slightly to Rak.
"Kalt of the Hounds. Pleased to meet you, young lord. Though not our first meeting."
"Uh, um..."
"Didn't intend it, but... we'll be seeing each other often now. Here's hoping we get along."
See each other often?
Feeling an inexplicable chill, Rak blinked. The Hound bowed to Rak, passed a message to Lania, and vanished down the corridor.
Once he was gone, Lania spoke.
"You asked who I am, right?"
Rak nodded slowly.
A breeze slipped through the slightly open corridor window, rustling Lania's hair.
"Well..."
She brushed back her swaying locks and said.
"For now, I'm a professor at Aphria Academy."
Aphria's professor.
"I'll teach you and stay one until you graduate Aphria."
So what then, after graduation?
Rak didn't press.
Instead, he asked something else.
"Someday."
Rak asked.
"Can I stand by your side, Professor?"
A mage standing beyond the wall, impossibly far.
Could he stand beside her?
To that question, Lania answered.
"I'll make sure you can."
As Lania, not Raniel.
"That's a teacher's role."
As Aphria's professor, she declared.
Lania gave a faint smile. Her narrowed blue eyes fixed on Rak. He read the expectation in them. Reading it, Rak nodded.
Wind blew through the open window.
The breeze was cool.
Like the North's winds always were—cool, but not shiver-inducing. Refreshingly brisk, perfect for moving.
"I'll do my best."
In the end, that was all Rak could promise.
Lania unwittingly smiled at the reply.
'Not one to mince words, just like his rival.'
It was the same as Belnoa's answer.
Picturing the two—so similar yet not—she nodded contentedly.
"Good."
The journey in the North came to an end.
He'd seen forgotten pasts and tied off long grudges. Thinking back, he'd spent more time as the Ashen Mage here than as Aphria's Professor Lania.
'So for the finale...'
Best to end it professor-like.
Lania pointed out the window with her finger.
"Since it came up, want to finish training?"
She said with her usual smile. Rak stared at her a moment, then nodded—with a touch of wry amusement.
"Yes, Professor Lania."