Chapter 269
Chapter 269
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 269
Chapter Title: Reality and Ideal (6)
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Vast fields stretched out endlessly.
A cool breeze rustled the blue grasslands. It wasn't just the grass swaying. The pristine white collar of Galahal's robes fluttered in the wind.
"...".
Galahal was gazing at Chloe.
He said nothing. After posing a single question, he had remained silent ever since. As if he would wait however long it took for her answer.
Or as if, no matter how much time passed... he wouldn't let her go until he heard it.
Chloe met his gaze.
The young man standing before her was none other than Galahal, hailed as the most heroic of heroes. And that most heroic hero had asked her about what it meant to be a hero.
What kind of hero do you want to be?
What kind of hero did she want to become?
Chloe mulled over the question. To answer it, she needed to look back on her own life.
And so she did.
She reflected on her eighteen years.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 2.
Chloe's life began in the slums, where the abandoned and discarded gathered.
By the time she came of age, her parents were long gone, and the young girl understood that she had been abandoned. All she knew was that her name was Chloe.
Abandoned amid filth.
She crawled across the ground, surviving as best she could.
She fled in terror at the sound of footsteps, scavenging scraps discarded by others to eat. She could barely remember how she had survived.
She simply struggled to stay alive.
In the deepest bowels of the slums, a narrow crevice between walls served as the girl's home. It was filled with filthy books and newspapers she had scavenged from the trash.
The girl, who could read, pored over the books she found. She read fairy tales and stared endlessly at newspapers reporting news from the battlefields.
The worlds in fairy tales were beautiful.
In those beautiful worlds lived magnificent heroes.
It wasn't just fairy tales. Newspapers carried stories of real heroes living in the world. The girl read them over and over. Reading them allowed her to forget her own life, if only for a moment.
Because it was filthy. Because she was at the very bottom.
Humans yearn for what shines brightly.
They long to reach the heights.
The young girl was no different. As she read her books, she dreamed. From her narrow crevice, she gazed up at the sky, wishing to shine as well.
Was it by chance?
Or was it fate?
Do you wish for it?
One day, a voice whispered in the girl's ear.
When she asked who it was, the voice replied.
The being that answers wishes.
The being asked the girl for her wish.
The girl answered. She wanted to shine brightly, to live a radiant life. Someone heard her desperate plea and responded.
If you wish it, so it shall be.
A warm platinum light enveloped the girl.
Her dull white hair regained its pure snowy sheen. A ring of platinum light appeared in her emerald eyes.
On that day, the girl was chosen.
It was a mere whim of the gods, or perhaps an inevitability born of coincidences stacking upon one another. In time, the chosen girl would learn the source of the power she received.
Upon learning its origin, the girl came to understand.
She was different from those forcibly chosen.
She had become a hero because she had yearned to shine brilliantly and made that wish. She couldn't run away, claiming it was a childish plea from her naive days.
There were responsibilities. There were duties.
The girl would not turn away from them.
What must I become?
She asked herself and answered.
A being who always shines.
Because she had wished for a life like the heroes in fairy tales.
Because she had longed for a radiant existence that gave hope to others... she had to become that.
But...
On the other hand, the girl harbored doubts.
Could she truly become that?
Time flowed onward.
The moment to bear her duties and responsibilities drew near.
Beneath the weight of that approaching time, the girl's doubts grew. For she had seen them.
A boy who had survived the filthiest depths on his own power and finally stood in the light.
A mage who understood and wielded his talents better than she ever could.
A princess blessed by the stars, yet striding forward boldly on her own two feet.
And.
A hero weary of reality, yet unable to give up, wandering lost. A hero who still dreamed despite the harsh world—a hero she had seen up close.
All of them shone brilliantly.
They shone so brightly that she felt shabby in their presence. Watching them, the girl thought.
Me.
Could she become like them?
Wasn't she unworthy of this star?
Shouldn't this power have gone to them instead?
Doubts she couldn't voice to anyone.
Now, the girl gave them words.
"I..."
The girl said.
"I wanted to be like the heroes in fairy tales. I wanted to live a life shining like theirs. I admired them. I wanted to be like them."
She had admired them. She had wished for it. She had prayed for it.
"And the star answered that wish. The star granted my plea... and gave me this power."
Thus, Chloe had become a hero.
"But."
But, she asked.
"Isn't this power something I shouldn't have?"
A story she had never told a soul.
Galahal swallowed hard upon hearing it. Wishing to become a hero didn't make him gasp.
The star answering her prayer.
The star granting power to make her a hero.
Such cases were exceedingly rare, but not nonexistent. What stunned Galahal was the sentence that followed. The doubt that this power shouldn't belong to her.
"...Ah."
Galahal let out a wry smile.
He had no choice but to laugh.
For it was a doubt he himself had harbored. A doubt he still sought answers for.
"I understand."
Galahal spoke.
"That doubt, that wavering in your heart... I understand completely."
Slowly raising his arm, Galahal pointed to himself and gave an awkward smile.
"Because I've thought the same."
"...Pardon?"
"Chloe, as you know, I have no talent. Neither in handling stars, nor in martial prowess—I've been gifted with nothing."
Galahal exhaled briefly.
"His First Highness mocked me, and Lord Draka declared outright that I had 'no talent.'"
You have no talent.
You'll need dozens of times the effort of others just to match them. It's cruel, but you lack any gift for martial arts.
That was what Draka had told Galahal.
"And it's true. Even now, I can't stand against calamities. I'm a weak hero who can't even protect a single comrade."
Galahal gave a bitter smile.
"There are so many who shine brighter than me. Far too many. Seeing them, I often wondered why the starlight was given to me, and not them."
Why to him.
Why to someone without talent, this power beyond his station? Galahal had agonized over it.
"Why not to Raniel van Trias."
"Why not to Sir Kuntel."
"To Lord Kelrhalhm, to Lord Draka, and to so many others..."
"Why, why, why..."
Hadn't the star descended upon those brilliant souls?
Shouldn't the star meant for them have gone to them?
Amid failures, Galahal pondered endlessly.
His doubts deepened, and he found no answers. He could never fathom why the star had chosen him.
"But."
Galahal exhaled briefly.
"I couldn't just stop there. Even while agonizing... we must press on. If we do, this torment will have meaning."
"It will have... meaning."
"Yes. And besides."
Galahal smiled at Chloe.
"As we move forward, something will come. There must be something only I can do, something only I can accomplish."
Life hadn't ended yet.
Keep advancing, keep walking without giving up, and perhaps the answers would come.
"Life is the process of seeking those answers."
Words he had once shared with Rox.
Saying them again, Galahal patted Chloe's shoulder twice.
"It's good to agonize. But don't let it consume you and make you miss what's truly important."
The truly important thing.
"Chloe, what did you say you wanted to be as a hero?"
"Like the heroes in fairy tales, a perfect hero..."
"Never forget that."
Don't forget your admiration.
Don't forget the self you longed to become.
That was Galahal's message.
"Sometimes you can run. You can falter, you can stop. Such moments will surely come. Humans can't be perfect."
That's fine.
That's what it means to be human.
"When that happens, remember. Remember the person you wanted to become. The dream you first held."
Then, Galahal said.
"You will be able to move forward."
Because he had done the same.
Because he was still wandering in search of answers.
Chloe swallowed dryly at his near-certain words. Meeting Galahal's eyes, she spoke.
"I..."
This weak version of myself.
"Can I really become such a hero?"
A hero like you?
"Yes, of course."
Galahal answered her question.
With unwavering conviction, without a hint of hesitation.
"As long as you wish it, you can become that."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 3.
Eastern Third Front, Hafreion.
Several days had passed since the annihilation battle at Bertha Gorge. In those days, Galahal had devoted himself to training Chloe, and she grew stronger with each passing day.
It seemed her mindset had shifted.
Less tension in the fingers drawing her circuits, and those relaxed circuits channeled mana more smoothly than before.
A welcome change.
"So, what exactly did you tell Chloe to cause this?"
"Just some personal experiences. Lania, didn't you say the best advice comes from drawing on one's own experiences?"
Galahal shrugged, avoiding specifics. I eyed him suspiciously but walked with him anyway.
Even in the demonic realm, there are always a spot or two to rest if you look. This was one I'd marked on the map as a prime location during past battles...
A place out of sight.
A good spot for a relaxed chat.
It was a lush grassland, and we settled into our seats. I'd been here before, so it felt familiar.
The breeze felt refreshing.
As I brushed back my wind-tossed hair, Galahal spoke first.
"Looks like you talked with Destel."
"We did."
"Your attitude toward him seems a bit different now."
"He wasn't what I expected."
I didn't want to admit it, but I had to.
"...I was mistaken in some ways too."
"About what?"
"You know exactly what."
"Some things gain meaning only when spoken aloud."
Tsking at Galahal's sly demeanor, I opened my mouth.
"I thought he'd completely given up. That's why he spouts all that 'abandon' nonsense."
"Destel does phrase things oddly. Sometimes it feels deliberate."
"...Anyway."
I let out a short breath and continued.
"Watching him up close, I got it."
I'd seen the full flow of operations.
Where Destel made decisions, how he thought. Once I saw it, I had to concede. I'd been wrong.
"He does use 'abandon.' He tosses the word around easily. But... he's trying to take responsibility in his own way, so I won't fault him for it."
I tried seeing things from Destel's perspective.
Assuming I lacked his current power, placing myself in his shoes—the answer came quickly.
"You said it yourself."
I looked at Galahal.
"Everyone has their own way. I decided to just accept that."
"...Is that so?"
"You look surprised."
"The you I remember didn't change from a few words."
I smiled wryly.
"Back then, I didn't have the luxury."
I'd lived frantically, with no time for deep reflection.
Obsessed with standing at the forefront, no time to look around. Always rushing ahead.
"Is it different now?"
"Not hugely."
But, I said.
"I have a little breathing room now."
The breeze was quite cool.
Taking a deep breath, I pointed at Galahal.
"Galahal."
"Yes, Raniel."
Not Lania, but Raniel.
"You said you had something to consult me about."
"I do."
"It's about your lifespan, obviously."
Galahal affirmed with silence.
I cut straight to it.
"How many years left?"
"Hm..."
Galahal hesitated briefly.
It didn't last long.
As if resolved, he spoke.
"Three years."
Three years.
That was the time Galahal had left.
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