Chapter 279
Chapter 279
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 279
Chapter Title: Undying Human (5)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ As the sun dipped beyond the horizon and the first veil of night began to fall, Cariot emerged from the Holy Grail—not flung out, but walking out on his own two feet.
That single fact allowed for many inferences.
He had overcome the wall. He had passed the trial. At the end of the challenge, he had finally ascended to the realm of the transcendent.
Cariot, emerging from the platinum well, swept back his sweat-matted hair and let out a refreshing laugh. His expression was one of resolution, as if he had solved a long-standing dilemma or set down a heavy burden.
With a now-relaxed face, Cariot opened his mouth.
"I had a proper blowout fight with the wife."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Lania blinked.
The Holy Grail's trial was a marital spat? Cariot hadn't shared what he encountered in the trial, so it was hard for Lania to comprehend.
"If it's your wife, isn't she a high priestess? I heard she became a martyr caught up in some unfortunate incident..."
"That's the official story."
Cariot gave a wry smile.
"My wife was so renowned and devout in the Church that they dressed up her death. You probably know, Miss Saintess?"
"I know about Priestess Is."
Sara spoke with a sour expression, as if she'd bitten into a bug.
"She was known as a martyr due to her influence, but in truth, wasn't she judged as a heretic? By none other than you, Cariot."
"That's right. Though it's more accurate to say my wife let herself die by my hand."
Lania, who had been quietly eavesdropping on their conversation, stroked her chin. High priestess, Is. She had heard that name somewhere before.
"Ah."
Lania let out a short sigh.
"...The Mad Witch of Fire?"
The moment she muttered that, Cariot's face stiffened. Lania hurriedly covered her mouth, but the words were already out.
The Mad Witch of Fire.
Lania knew of the incident she was tied to.
It had happened over a decade ago, before her own active days. The event known to the world as the subjugation of the Mad Witch of Fire. How had it ended?
'Two transcendents and one hero were deployed, one transcendent died, and it wrapped up... or so I heard.'
Only after becoming known as the Wise One later did Lania access detailed information about the Mad Witch of Fire.
The mad priestess, Is.
She was the third transcendent in the history of the Delorhim Church, and the worst one. A figure who ascended to transcendence through hatred and madness toward the stars.
'And that person was...'
Lania glanced at Cariot.
Cariot replied with a wry smile.
"The Mad Witch of Fire—yes, that's what she was called. I participated in that subjugation too. In the end, it was my blade that pierced her heart."
He touched the greatsword cross strapped to his back.
"That's when I hit my own wall. True to form as my wife, she burned hot—scorching, really."
"...Is that so?"
"Yeah. She was always a priestess who wouldn't yield to even the Pope in faith alone... but once she snapped, it was insane. She turned an entire city into a furnace."
A light tone, casual words.
Yet Cariot's expression was rigid as he spoke them.
"She probably couldn't bear it. The children dying, the gods not answering her prayers, no salvation coming... She just couldn't take it."
A priestess who prayed to the gods ascended to transcendence by denying their existence. Even freshly ascended, no seasoned transcendent could block her path.
In the end, countless humans burned by her hand. In the ashes of the ruined city, she met her death bearing the ignoble title of witch.
"I regretted it. Deeply."
Cariot let out a short breath.
"If I'd stopped her sooner, if I'd been stronger then, if I'd kept my promise to her... I always regretted it."
Cariot gripped the cross hanging around his neck.
"Where is the will of the gods? That's the question she threw at me. It's the task I must prove."
In her final moments, as her heart was pierced, that was the question she hurled at Cariot. After a decade-and-a-half journey, he had long found the answer.
'The will of the gods lies within me.'
The divine resides in all my actions.
What I believe to be right is the will of the gods.
However, it was still an unproven answer.
Words alone hold no value.
An ideal is proven not by speaking, but by acting—through one's life. To prove the answer with his existence, Cariot had sought the transcendent realm.
Crunch.
Gripping the cross, Cariot smiled.
"Now I can prove it."
2.
Before leaving Cateron Castle and returning to his battlefield, Cariot summoned Garahal separately. The place Garahal arrived at his call was a field at the northern crossroads.
A chilly wind blew through the spot.
There, Cariot—coffin on his back—spoke first.
"I heard from Heinkel."
"...Pardon?"
"That you're retiring as Hero. And that I'll have to fill in for you for a while."
"Is that... so."
Garahal fell silent.
His expression wasn't entirely comfortable. Garahal found it awkward facing those who'd heard of his retirement. Even if they didn't ask, there was only one thing they'd wonder.
"Is there a particular reason for retiring?"
There it was.
Garahal wasn't good at lying. After pondering how to dodge, he usually opted to avoid answering altogether.
Should he do the same this time? As he wavered, Cariot's wry chuckle echoed in his ears.
"I won't ask that. It's written all over your face."
"...All over my face?"
"Living holed up in the Demonic Realm, you meet all sorts. Plenty are addicted to demonic energy, with little time left."
Garahal flinched, shoulders tensing, as Cariot posed his question.
"Hero, know what faces those guys make?"
"Not really..."
"Two types. Ones who've given up entirely, hollow-eyed wanderers. Or ones burning their remaining time, eyes wide, trying to achieve something."
So, Hero, Cariot said.
"Which are you?"
"......"
"To me, you look like the latter."
After a silence, Garahal spoke.
"Honestly, I don't know myself."
"Don't know?"
"I've pondered what to do with my time left, what I can do... but no answers come."
"Yeah?"
Cariot nodded with a hum.
"How much time left?"
It was already out in the open.
Garahal pondered briefly before answering.
"...Three years."
"Short."
Cariot sighed.
As he sighed, he lit a cigarette dangling from his lips. After inhaling once, he spoke, his voice stripped of any mirth.
In a heavy tone, Cariot said,
"One question."
"Yes."
"Anything you want to achieve?"
Something to achieve.
"Yes."
"Can I ask what?"
Garahal nodded and replied.
"I wanted to become the perfect Hero."
"Perfect Hero... Like what?"
"Like the Heroes in fairy tales. Standing before everyone, a pillar they could lean on..."
"I see. Noble goal."
Cariot stubbed out his cigarette on the back of his hand.
Then, turning to Garahal, he blurted,
"Sounds like you've already done it."
"...Pardon?"
Cariot pointed at Garahal.
"The most Hero-like Hero."
A title never bestowed on anyone.
"If you're called that, haven't you achieved it?"
"...I still think I'm lacking. If someone else had this power instead of me, maybe more..."
"Nah."
Cariot cut him off flatly.
"When Heinkel told me I had to fill your spot, know what I thought first?"
Cariot looked at Garahal with a wry smile.
"No way I could fill your shoes."
"......"
"Not just 'cause you're the Hero. You're a symbol now. No one can replace you."
What Garahal had built was no small thing.
"You already are that existence, Garahal."
He had saved countless people; being seen as a symbol on the battlefield meant many acknowledged his life.
"You've done what only you could, and everyone knows it. No need to downplay yourself."
"That's..."
"You can be a bit prouder."
Standing, Cariot patted Garahal's shoulder a couple times.
"Relax those shoulders too. Tense up too much, and life gets exhausting, young man."
As Garahal stood silent, Cariot began to walk away. Passing him, he said,
"I'll be lacking... but until the next Hero comes, I'll try to fill your spot."
So, Cariot continued,
"Spend your remaining time doing what you want, no worries."
"What I want, you say."
"Yeah. What you want. Meet some girls, enjoy everything."
Cariot turned back with a mischievous grin.
"Ah, but don't get married. Marriage is the grave of life. Don't end up stuck like me—live free, kid."
Garahal smiled wryly.
"Advice from experience?"
"Something like that."
"I'll keep it in mind."
3.
Eastern Front 3, Hafreion.
With the incident resolved, Lania arrived in Hafreion to pick up Chloe and headed straight for Destel. She had matters to discuss with him.
"I heard. Attacked by Kuntel and an armored dragon?"
"Not Kuntel—an undead."
"...Right. Calling it that would insult Kuntel."
Destel waited in the office.
Beside him, papers resembling letters were scattered about, each bearing different crests.
Pointing to them, Lania asked,
"What's all this?"
"Letters from the sites attacked by the Apostate's beasts that day, alongside Cateron Castle. Reports don't tell everything, so I sent out for more info."
Destel sighed.
"You asked me before, right? What the intent behind the attack might be."
"Yeah."
The day she was attacked by Kuntel, the first thing Lania checked upon waking was Chloe's safety. Fortunately, nothing had happened in Hafreion.
Any more details?
They'd exchanged a few messages then, and Destel had promised to investigate. Today, she was here for the results.
"Found anything?"
"Not yet. Still investigating."
Destel rested his chin, glancing at Lania.
"You—how much do you know about the Apostate?"
"That she's a madwoman."
She knew more, but couldn't share with Destel, so Lania clammed up. Even excluding that, her knowledge of the current Apostate was limited.
'All I know is the past.'
That she was the first Saintess, obsessed with the ash-gray one resembling Cardi van Armiel. Lania's info was mostly on the Apostate's history.
What about the current one?
The Apostate Lania faced was madness in human form. Unreadable motives, unknown dreams.
"Madwoman fits. A calamity you can't describe otherwise."
Destel sighed.
"Even collecting her activity logs over centuries yields the same. She's an enigma—what drives her is unknown."
But, Destel tapped the table.
"She's not a calamity driven purely by madness without purpose. Different from the Black Dragon."
Destel, who had faced the Apostate several times.
Having exchanged words while captured by her, he stated flatly,
"She has purpose, aims for something. We just can't grasp it... but the Apostate always moves with intent."
"...So?"
"You contacting me right after the attack—didn't you have some guess at her goal?"
Destel opened his mouth.
"Chloe."
The girl resembling the Apostate.
"The Apostate repelled in the City of Night. Digging into the classified info attached... Chloe's name came up. Wasn't it a rescue op?"
Lania sighed and slumped into a chair.
"Yeah. It's true she's targeting the kid, obsessed with her."
"Why?"
"If I knew, would I be sitting here?"
Even knowing she had a purpose, there was no way to uncover it. Lania recalled the Apostate's words that day.
I needed a child resembling me... even that failed.
Last chance, a child like her.
What it meant, she didn't know. After a silence, Destel spoke.
"Then why spare the East?"
"...That's the question."
Targeting Chloe, yet avoiding the East. If the Apostate herself moved... or just unleashed her beasts, she could have taken Chloe. But she didn't.
Why?
"We're investigating, but..."
Destel unrolled a map.
Marked in red circles were the bases attacked by the Apostate's beasts the day Cateron fell.
"Deltaron Castle, Karmat Gorge, Hatel Plains, Onpelshtein Temporary Base, Kimelt Base."
Including Cateron, six bases hit. The Apostate never appeared. Only the armored dragon ravaged the fields.
No common threads among the six points.
Connecting them yielded no shape. Even to Lania, versed in all circuits, it wasn't a magical pattern.
"...What the hell is this?"
"More investigation needed, but doubt it'll yield anything meaningful. Better head back to the capital soon."
Destel sighed, staring at the map.
The six red dots strung out.
The pattern felt oddly familiar. ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Skeval."
『What is it.』
"You studied the stars once, right? Shouting that reading stellar flows was the path to truth. That's how I remember it."
『Ancient history. From my foolish human days. Back then, I wasted time on nonsense. Reading stars was one...』
"Talkative."
『......』
"Can you still read them?"
『I can. The knowledge remains.』
"Accurately? Dates, times too."
『...What exactly do you want from me?』
"Here."
『...Predict when this star rises?』
"Rough calc, but not sure. You can do it, right?"
『Not difficult.』
......
...
............
"Oh, and Skeval."
『What now.』
"That old you saying truth lies in stellar flows? Not wrong."
『Not wrong?』
"Church says thirty-seven is perfect. Slight misinterpretation. Three and seven are perfect. Makes sense."
The woman forsaken by the stars smiled.
"Six is the most unstable before completion. Right before seven—shakiest."
The woman once hearing the stars' voice.
The priestess knowing stars deeper than any.
"That's why I can slip in."
Apostate (??), Gletus.
The first Saintess smiled at the stars.