Chapter 288
Chapter 288
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 288
Chapter Title: Your Story (3)
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"I'll get up first."
Rosel shot Lania a sidelong glance as she rose from her seat.
She looked fine now, but just a few days ago, her condition had been quite serious. For ten straight days, Lania hadn't eaten properly or slept a wink—she'd been like a walking corpse.
Her vacant eyes.
Her limp arms.
The sight of his disciple staring blankly at the clouds drifting across the sky for hours on end, as if she'd lost her mind, had been a shocking blow to Rosel.
'It's the first time I've seen her like that in over a decade...'
Even when she faced major setbacks, she'd shake them off in as little as a few hours or, at most, by the next morning. For a disciple like that to stay in such a state for over ten days—it would have been stranger if he hadn't been worried.
"You feeling a bit better?"
"Pardon?"
"I asked if you're okay. You seemed lost in thought."
Rosel knew the basics of Gallahal's death and the events tied to it. But all he'd received were printed reports with the bare outlines... He had no idea about the stories lying beneath those cold lines of text.
Because he didn't know, he didn't dare speculate.
Rosel refrained from prying into the details and carefully observed his disciple instead. Grateful for her master's consideration, Lania gave a wry smile and spoke.
"Who knows."
Lania unbound her hair.
"I'm not entirely sure, but..."
She buttoned up and draped a robe over her shoulders.
Finally, with gloves on, Lania turned to Rosel and continued.
"I just feel like I need to do something. Staring at the clouds all day was starting to get old."
"...Is that so?"
"Yeah, a little."
Lania nodded and opened the door.
Bathed in the warm spring sunlight, she said,
"I'll be back, Master."
"...Alright. Take care."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 2.
The aftermath of Gallahal's death was massive.
It was only natural. The death of a hero—and not just any hero, but Gallahal, hailed as the most heroic of them all. With their spiritual pillar gone, the knights' morale had plummeted, and there was no stopping it.
The silver lining was that his death hadn't been in vain. Gallahal had sacrificed himself to secure the next hero candidate, and he'd succeeded spectacularly.
Rumors even swirled that he'd dealt a mortal blow to the heretic, Gletus, in the process. Some dismissed it at first as fabricated info to glorify his death, but that skepticism didn't last.
All of the heretic's demonic beasts had vanished.
Quite a few outposts had fallen to that horrific disaster's grasp, guarded by the monsters under the heretic's command.
"Nothing here. It's completely empty."
But after Gallahal's death, not a single one of those beasts was sighted anywhere. From that moment on, the doubters fell silent.
Gallahal was dead, but he'd died as a hero.
The knights paid their respects to the monumental feat one hero had achieved at the end of his life. Some were even inspired by his story, hoping they too could meet a brilliant end rather than a meaningless one.
Morale was down.
But not as badly as expected.
The knights' attention had shifted to the next hero candidate.
Who would fill Gallahal's shoes?
Who was the one he'd staked his life to save?
Everyone was dying to know.
And the royals made it official, announcing the candidate's identity to the world. The First Princess and the Knight Commander had opposed it, but the hero herself had wished it so.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Under the watchful eyes of countless people, the hero appointment ceremony proceeded. Normally, the king would officiate, but ever since the First Prince's disappearance turned him into a shell of a man, he no longer appeared at public events.
Standing in his place was the First Princess, Ruriel.
She wasn't in her usual spot.
She stood where the king of this nation should stand. No one questioned it. After all, it was Ruriel who had steadied the chaotic times.
Different attire. Different position.
As the king's proxy—and proxy for the brilliant star shining in the night sky—she stood there.
"......"
She raised her hand silently and gave a light gesture.
At her signal, the knights sprang into motion. Those guarding the royals, those who'd once roamed the battlefields—they all slammed their white-shafted spears into the ground.
Thud.
The earth trembled, and the noise died down.
In the ensuing silence, the sound of steady footsteps echoed softly. They came to a halt right before Ruriel.
White hair tied back.
Gleaming green eyes.
Wearing the hero's garb crafted jointly by the Black Mage Tower and the royal mages, Chloe knelt on one knee before Ruriel. Her clothes fluttered in the wind.
Countless knights watched her.
The gathered crowds peeked at her from beyond the knights. Receiving myriad gazes, Chloe bowed her head slightly.
"I ask you."
As Chloe kept her head lowered, Ruriel spoke. She was here as the king's proxy and as the agent of the god.
Speaking on behalf of the divine, she asked,
"What is a hero to you?"
Kyle Toven had once answered that a hero was one who defeats enemies. Destel said it was the one who secures total victory. Gallahal had said it was the one who saves.
"A hero is someone prepared to become an idol."
Chloe gave her own answer.
"One who's resolved to be seen as an idol by others, to live their entire life as a hero. That is what I believe a hero is."
Symbolizing victory.
Prepared to drink the blood of others to survive.
One who wishes to remain a hero even in their dying breath.
"To me, a hero is an idol."
Chloe answered.
Ruriel gave a faint smile at Chloe's words.
"Indeed, an idol."
She nodded.
"Well said."
Ruriel looked at the young girl before her and continued.
"A hero becomes an idol. If you wish to be an idol to others, you must always be perfect. You will never be allowed to bow your head."
That was the meaning of becoming an idol.
"Can you always look straight ahead and keep walking?"
Are you prepared to become a symbol?
Just as Gallahal had, are you ready for the harsh, grueling path? Ruriel asked, and Chloe quietly raised her head.
Looking up at Ruriel with unwavering green eyes, Chloe spoke.
"Yes, of course."
There was no hesitation in her voice.
Ruriel nodded quietly. As she extended her hand, a knight beside her offered a sword with both hands.
It was the holy relic bestowed by the stars when the dynasty first took root in this land. The sword used by the last queen and passed to the first king—a ceremonial blade.
Shing.
The drawn blade gleamed platinum.
Beautiful, for it was made not to kill, but to bless. The shining edge tapped lightly on Chloe's shoulder.
"Hero of the Holy Flow (??), Chloe."
A hero with no epithet yet.
The name attached to her pointed only to the star's armament she was born with, not to her herself. No title had been bestowed upon her as of now.
She had only just begun her path.
What name that path would bear was something she would have to answer with her life.
"I look forward to the day your life earns a name."
The First Princess, Ruriel, smiled softly.
Amid the ensuing cheers and applause, Chloe slowly rose to her feet. Her gaze sought out Lania amid the crowd.
Looking at Lania, Chloe smiled.
Lania nodded back with a smile of her own.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 3.
After the appointment ceremony, Chloe was rushed off her feet, darting from place to place. Naturally, there was a mountain of things to handle. I exchanged brief greetings and took my leave.
The languid spring sunlight poured down.
One season ended, and a new one began. Much would start anew, and much would change. To wrap up what had ended before embracing the new beginnings, I set off.
My steps led to Gallahal's grave.
I stopped before the tomb in a sunny spot, a quiet place a few steps from the bustle. Then I plopped down beside the gravestone.
"......"
I sat and gazed at the sky.
Watching the drifting clouds, I finally spoke.
"Oh yeah, I forgot to bring flowers last time."
Of course, no one was listening.
Gallahal's body had crumbled to dust, and his soul had shattered... These words would never reach him.
"So I came to leave some."
Even so, I said it aloud anyway.
What else should I say?
Feeling an odd awkwardness, I opened my mouth.
"...And Chloe's become a hero apprentice."
Knight Commander Heinkel and Princess Ruriel both tried to dissuade her, saying it was too soon... But Chloe insisted she needed to make her presence known right away.
"The chain must continue."
There couldn't be a gap.
Even if she wasn't heading to the front lines immediately, she had to show that Gallahal's death held value. That's what Chloe argued.
And in the end, it happened.
The ceremony went ahead, and Chloe's name spread through the world. Aphria would be abuzz for a while... Maybe we'd even need to separate her class.
"She seems overflowing with motivation herself, but I doubt she'll see the battlefield anytime soon. She still needs more training."
Enthusiasm alone doesn't get the job done.
"The good thing is... she doesn't seem too down about it. If anything, her drive is so intense she's training from dawn till late at night—it's wearing me out."
I gave a wry smile.
"She said she wants to become an idol."
Just like you, Gallahal.
She said she wants to be a hero like you.
"Even though it'll be tough, she says she'll do it. To fill the void you left, at the very least."
I recalled the knights' reactions to Chloe's words.
Chloe had no achievements yet. No track record. No one would take her declaration at face value. Even so, surprise flickered in the knights' eyes.
A girl far younger than them—a seemingly frail girl—had proclaimed it with a steady voice.
Some might have sensed Gallahal's echo in that declaration, recalling the humble yet colossal star he'd become. I certainly did.
"She reminded me of you."
Back at his appointment, when Gallahal voiced his convictions, the prince had sneered. The onlookers had eyed him without much expectation.
Maybe Chloe would face the same.
Some might mock her, dismissing the ideals of one without accomplishments. But today, no one dared. There was precedent now. Someone had turned mere words into reality.
"No one laughs at Chloe, your successor. They can't. You made it that way."
Anyone can shout ideals; their weight depends on who shouts them. The ideals Gallahal proclaimed now carried more gravity than anything.
"Man, you're really something."
I leaned against Gallahal's gravestone.
"You madman."
I chuckled.
"I thought I was walking beside you, but blink, and you've gone so far ahead."
How does one even live like that?
What thoughts led to what answers?
"How do you go out so coolly to the very end? How can you smile right up until the last moment?"
"Ah, I see... That's... quite the joyous occasion."
Gallahal's final smile lingered in my mind, refusing to fade. Remembering it, I hoped I too could smile like him at my end.
"Well, anyway..."
I rose slowly.
"I suck at writing novels or anything. The best I can do is reports and research summaries..."
Gallahal's novel.
I pulled out the final page he'd left and engraved a subheading with a name. Raniel was already there up top, so this time, a different one.
[Lania van Trias.]
A name that had seen a bit more than Raniel's.
A name harboring slightly different thoughts.
"I'll give it my best shot."
I smiled.
"Whether it flops or flies, I'll write it."
I didn't know how many pages were left.
Nor how many I'd be granted, or what sentence would close mine. So much unknown, all of it.
"But that's life—finding those answers."
The search itself is life.
I'd live to decide the sentence that would end my story. Hoping it would be as beautiful as Gallahal's.
Hoping it would be.
"You did well."
I walked away, leaving the gravestone behind.
Winter had passed, and spring arrived.
This spring would be even busier.
The thought crossed my mind.
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