Chapter 266
Chapter 266
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 266
Chapter Title: Reality and Ideal (3)
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Destel was called the realistic hero.
Galahal was called the idealistic hero.
Though labeled as polar opposites, the two never really denied each other's ways. There might be likes and dislikes, but they never judged right or wrong between themselves.
'Why?'
Raniel found that fact hard to understand.
"Don't force ideals on others. Not everyone can become like you, Raniel."
Destel had said that.
"Everyone has their own path. If they don't give up, that anguish holds value."
Galahal had said something similar.
Raniel quietly mulled over their words.
"Push forward!"
"Strike! Keep moving, no breaks!"
The surroundings were chaotic.
The clash of spears and swords rang out, mingled with the cracking of wyvern soldiers' bones and the necromancers' screams echoing in her ears.
She was right in the heart of the battlefield.
As she moved her body, Raniel thought.
Of course, a few words couldn't dissolve years of built-up worries. If it had been that trivial, she wouldn't have suffered so much.
But it was enough to spark a change in her heart.
A small ripple stirred in Raniel's unchanging emotions. The still lake trembled. Amid the swirling thoughts, Raniel suddenly reflected on her own life.
As objectively as possible.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 2.
There was a person named Raniel van Trias.
His original name wasn't anything grand.
His parents, who ran a small library in a remote village, simply named their child Raniel. No special meaning behind it.
The child grew up and lost his parents.
His hometown turned to ashes.
The wandering child was taken in by a certain mage and began to be called Raniel van Trias.
Up to that point, it was ordinary.
The child was just a mage who loved magic studies, with a somewhat twisted personality. A mage capable of more than most. The change began when a word was added before his name.
Sage (?) van Trias, Raniel.
The young man who became the hero's companion started to change. He had no choice but to.
Raniel van Trias did not bend.
For better or worse.
Raniel van Trias always sought perfection. A sage had to be perfect. For those who died for him, he had to be flawless. That's what the sage believed.
Fleeing.
Retreating.
Hesitating.
Turning away.
None of it was allowed for him.
That was what it meant to bear responsibility, the attitude of one who stands before all. Believing that, Raniel lived that way.
He tried to stay upright. Always.
Whether it was hard or not, he had to.
"I offer half my lifespan."
He wrecked his body. He burned his life force. And still, he never fell. That was how Raniel upheld his own convictions. He upheld them to show others.
I'm standing here, enduring.
I strive for perfection.
I'm holding firm against anything.
"So, you too."
You who are watching me.
"You too, stand up."
"Stand and grasp your sword."
Stand and follow me.
He never said to lead. At least stand beside me, or if that's impossible, follow from behind. That's why he endured.
Raniel knew it wasn't easy. She wasn't incapable of understanding others. She empathized with their fear too.
She understood and empathized.
But she couldn't stand beside them.
Someone had to lead. Someone had to be the beacon. If the hero couldn't, then she would become that someone.
As Kyle grew weaker.
As he lost his light as a hero.
Raniel stepped forward even more.
She took on Kyle's role, shouting ideals in place of everyone. She endured for years like that. Trusting Kyle would one day stand. Certain he would stand right beside her again.
"We defeated the Black Dragon. The Black Dragon, that disaster ruling for centuries... We did it, Raniel!"
"Everyone's calling our names."
"Our efforts are rewarded. We weren't wrong. Let's keep going like this. Together, Raniel."
In Bertha Gorge, she firmly believed they could achieve the dreams they laughed about.
"Raniel."
But what was the end?
"You don't fit with us."
Expectations were betrayed.
Trust was trampled.
What Raniel felt then was bitter betrayal. The sense that everything built was denied, anger mixed with emptiness. That's how it felt then... but.
'Now...'
A year living as Lania, not Raniel.
That year gave Raniel new perspective. Still angry, still disappointed... but now with the leisure not to drown in those emotions.
"What the hell are you? You're just... you alone."
Kyle said she was special.
Special, so he couldn't become her.
"Not everyone can be like your brother."
Destel said something similar.
Not everyone can be like her, so don't force her ideals on others.
Two sentences, two conversations.
They had something in common.
Finding it wasn't hard. Lania's lips parted. The voice that emerged was plain, almost dry.
"...They just never saw me as human."
That she felt no fear.
That she did this out of enjoyment.
That she sacrificed half her life willingly because she felt no despair, nothing.
Not that she overcame it.
But that she was born that way.
From what they said, they truly believed that. Even though it wasn't true, they saw her that way. Raniel felt a profound bitterness from that fact. Stronger than ever.
But she didn't turn away.
That was Raniel as always.
'I've found the problem.'
Now it was time to find the answer.
"......"
Raniel cleared the thoughts filling her head.
She gazed at reality with clear eyes.
Even lost in thought, she moved mechanically, sweeping away the Demon King's army. Crumbled bone fragments littered her feet. And ahead?
"Gah, guhk..."
A necromancer gripped in her hand, gasping his last. Facing his paling face, Raniel tightened her fingers.
Just a little.
That was enough.
Crack. The necromancer's neck snapped, his body going limp. Raniel stomped his skull with her combat boot and raised her head. What she saw was the cracked gorge.
Bertha Gorge.
The place of dreams and hope.
In the gorge where they once felled a disaster, Raniel slowly exhaled.
"To accept weakness."
"To advance through anguish."
"That's what gives it meaning, isn't it?"
And so, Raniel made a choice.
One her usual self wouldn't make.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 2.
Destel's eyes moved faster at the arising variables. There was more than one, and mishandling them could reverse the battle.
Amid issuing urgent orders.
"I heard a variable occurred."
A telepathic message rang in his ear.
From the communication magic tool given only to key figures. The voice was familiar.
'Lania van Trias.'
Definitely hers.
Destel frowned at the voice. He could guess why she was contacting him now.
'She's about to pull some shit.'
She was like her brother.
Like Raniel, was this girl about to complain about his tactics? Deny his methods as wrong and prove her righteousness?
Not welcome news.
Destel clicked his tongue shortly and opened his mouth.
"Hey."
He replied irritably.
"I clearly said not to interfere with the plan..."
"Give orders. I'll follow them."
But the voice was nothing like he expected. What did she just say? As Destel doubted his hearing, the voice rang again.
"Whether you use wyverns or whatever, give orders like you always do. To me too."
She added.
"I need to see that to even try understanding you."
Try to understand me?
What was this girl saying? Hard to grasp her intent. But no time for that now.
"I need to know your level to use you or not. Without that, how..."
"Raniel."
The girl said plainly.
"Whatever Raniel van Trias can do, I can do too. Just calculate it that way."
"Bullshit. Where's another monster like..."
Arrogant bluff.
That's what Destel thought at that moment.
Kwaaaaaang!
A massive explosion echoed from somewhere.
Turning toward the sound, a section of the gorge was collapsing. And the girl who had blasted through every obstacle in her path.
"Satisfied?"
"......"
After a brief silence, Destel issued orders.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 3.
Bertha Gorge Annihilation Battle.
The plan went awry right after toppling one necromancer tower. A crimson shockwave burst out, and something rose from the gorge below.
Kieeeek!
It was an army of wyverns, their scales unusually black and glossy—clearly Demon King Army elites. Reacting to the assault, no doubt.
But up to there was anticipated.
As knights sharpened spears and swords against the rising wyverns. Another massive variable struck the gorge.
Whoosh.
A fierce wind blew in.
The knights' formation shook in the gust. And they saw it: a shadow blotting the sun and the ground below. Not the wyverns'.
The knights who looked up muttered blankly.
"Dragon..."
Not wyverns—a dragon.
A beast at least twenty times their size glared down from the sky. The overwhelming pressure from its massive body was on another level.
...Lately, dragons weren't called rulers of the skies anymore. That was past glory.
Even the pinnacle black dragon fell to human hands. Humans felled countless dragons to the earth. Dragons were no longer sky rulers or symbols of immortality.
But that didn't mean.
One could ignore their existence.
Dragons remained threats. Especially in the battlefield's midst.
[———————!]
A roar erupted from the dragon's maw.
Mana-laden sound whipping the area—a dragon-exclusive technique called Howling. Knights clutched ears and staggered.
Fwoosh.
Sparks flew from the dragon's jaws next.
No knight didn't know what that heralded. They hastily raised shields; magic knights chanted spells.
Fwoooosh!
Flames engulfed the gorge.
Enduring the searing heat, knights sweated profusely. They sensed it: if they didn't pin this dragon here, the operation would fail.
"Hold."
Their commander judged the same.
Knights gritted teeth against the telepathic order and the heat. Heavy shield-bearers' armor began melting from the intensity.
Sizzle.
Even as flesh burned, knights endured.
'One dragon? We have a shot.'
If just one, they could strike when the breath paused. Not easy, but possible...
But that thought didn't last.
Because the battlefield had more than one dragon.
Wyverns waited for the breath's end too. Necromancers on their backs chanted. Knights sensed their doom.
No chance of victory.
Just buy one more second.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Heard it?"
"Yes, Destel. I heard."
"As you know, operation success is my top priority. New forces won't change my strategy."
"Of course."
"I'll use that headstrong girl to wrap this up fast. Ordered her with the knights to smash the towers. Ignoring the sudden dragon. It's a time fight."
"Understood."
"But."
"Yes."
"I won't force that on you."
"Thank you."
"...You're with Chloe now, right?"
"Yes, of course."
"Show her then."
"What?"
"Don't play dumb."
Destel smiled bitterly.
"What people want from a hero."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The breath's heat subsided.
Even sensing it, knights' faces darkened. They knew what followed a breath's end.
Exhausted from blocking breath, now block necromancers' spells. Counter wyverns' charges. Near impossible, and even if...
'Breath comes again.'
Then annihilation.
The end was vivid in their minds. As death approached step by step, knights felt fear. They were human too. Not free from terror.
But knight meant one resolved.
They resisted to the last, hoping their sacrifice mattered. The breath finally paused, and beyond fading heat, necromancers' hands gleamed.
A horrific spell approached.
Not just painful, but binding them eternally as toys even in death... Knights sensed it and bit down hard.
And at that moment.
Shwaaaaa!
A platinum beam pierced the air, skewering the head of the necromancer preparing the grandest spell, embedding in his wyvern's neck.
"Guhk!"
With the wyvern's cry, gathered mana lost control. Other necromancers rushed to contain the rampaging mana, but...
Flash.
The beam in the wyvern's neck pulsed white. Rejecting and disrupting demonic energy—starlight.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaang!
Explosion with the roar. Flesh scattered; uncontrolled spell devoured wyvern and necromancers. Corpses rained down.
Not just corpses fell.
Someone snatched a floating spearblade mid-explosion and landed before the knights.
Thud.
White cloak fluttered.
In his hand, a brilliantly platinum holy spear. No knight didn't know that back.
"Hero Galahal."
The most hero-like hero.
"Let's go."
The spear-wielding hero, Galahal.
He stood before the knights.