Chapter 370
Chapter 370
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 370
Chapter Title: Praises in the Press
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"This newspaper's a bit thick, isn't it?"
"The three major papers in the capital recently ran special features on Lady Lania, didn't they? It took some doing to trim it down for easy reading."
"Is that so...?"
She muttered to herself, quite pleased.
Perched on a rock, Lania crossed her legs. A gust of wind whipped her hair about wildly, but only for a moment. With a sharp snap of her fingers, the breeze died down at once.
"Well then, shall we take a look?"
With a crisp whoosh, she unfolded the paper in a precise motion. What she held was nothing more than a collection of articles praising 'the hero Lania'—simple as that...
"Hmm."
Toying with her lips, Lania pored over the pages with utmost seriousness. Watching her, it almost felt like the crumpled newsprint in her hands was some weighty document on a grave matter.
Her eyes darted across the text at a rapid pace. Sometimes she flashed a faint smile, other times let out a short gasp of admiration, even murmuring things like, "Who wrote this article? I should buy them a meal sometime."
"Yes, I'll look into it."
"Do that. Definitely find out who it is. Their prose is just so elegant. Especially this part. These modifiers are just..."
"To your liking?"
"Immensely so."
Knight Tefran gave a wry smile and nodded.
It had been quite some time since he'd been assigned this unenviable task. At first, when he was picked for it solely because of his interest in current events, he'd wondered what it was all about. But now, Tefran took genuine pride in the job.
After all, it's helping the hero.
Watching Lania smack her forehead with a satisfied groan, Tefran couldn't help but chuckle. The world saw Lania van Trias as a noble, lofty, flawless paragon of heroism, but this was her true self.
"Hey, Tefran. Check this out. 'A once-in-a-lifetime, unprecedented...' Isn't that phrasing just perfect? That's exactly my taste."
"I'll make sure to prioritize that style when gathering papers from now on."
"Exactly. That's why I like working with you—you get me."
Full of human warmth, down-to-earth, and approachable.
Surprisingly lighthearted.
She might seem petty for fixating on trivial details, but in truth, she was more unpretentious than materialistic. At any rate, it was a far cry from the 'noble, enigmatic, utterly perfect hero' the public adored.
...Though her achievements are the real deal.
Was it because he saw this side of her so often?
Gathering articles about her sometimes left Tefran feeling a strange disconnect. The playful person before him was none other than Lania van Trias.
Humanity's sole hope, the unparalleled hero.
There was no exaggeration in the pieces Tefran collected.
Lania van Trias had truly earned such acclaim. This one hero had pushed the front lines—unchanged for centuries—far into enemy territory. She pressed toward the uncharted depths of the demon realm, places no one else could reach.
Lands humanity had lost.
History humanity had forgotten.
With every step she took, humanity's domain expanded, reclaiming traces of its lost past. The path she trod was humanity's history.
"This one's satisfying too. Thanks, Tefran."
A living piece of history flashed a faint smile as she handed the paper back. Visibly content, Lania stretched and let out a long breath.
"Phew, oh right. Tefran, what about that thing I asked for last time?"
"You mean the articles on your disciples?"
"Yeah, those."
She rose from her seat with a stretch.
Tefran pulled another paper from his robe.
"I have those ready too. Shall I give them now?"
"Yeah. I'll read as I go."
Lania flipped open the first page of the handed-over paper.
Staring back in bold letters: 'Guardian of the North, Rak van Grace.' Not about Lania herself, but her prized pupils. As she skimmed down, Lania let out a smirk.
"Tefran?"
"Yes, Hero?"
"You picked well."
Lania tapped the front page.
Guardian of the North, Rak van Grace.
Right below Rak's boldly printed name, the article continued:
Direct disciple of the great hero, Lania van Trias.
Poking at those words, Lania grinned ear to ear.
"Love it."
Tefran nodded proudly. Who could argue otherwise? He'd been collecting papers for Lania for a good while now. Sure, she liked overt praise, but what this shrewd hero favored most was 'subtle, indirect flattery.'
"Glad it pleases you."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Shadow Knight and Holy Flow Hero rack up feats on the western front once more. Apprentice hero shows peerless growth.
Ancient Dragon Mage bestows the title 'Dragonic' upon Shadow Knight Belnoa, deeming her worthy.
Holy Flow Hero annihilates necromancer's undead horde on western front with 'a single spell.'
Lania nodded in satisfaction, glancing over the updates on her disciples that she'd been checking periodically for the past three years. Hearing about their exploits—ones she'd raised herself—was quite enjoyable.
So this is what it feels like to be a master.
Now she understood why her own master had collected newspapers. As Lania reviewed each achievement, her eyes suddenly paused. After a brief silence, she let out a hollow laugh.
"They passed their graduation exam, huh?"
Shadow Knight, Belnoa van Dragonic.
Holy Flow Hero, Chloe.
On the eastern front, with Hero Destel's support, successfully subjugates ancient lich 'Skeval.'
The graduation task she'd mentioned long ago.
She'd said that if they followed her curriculum diligently, by graduation they'd handle an 'ancient lich' with ease. Now that it had come true, Lania was honestly surprised.
Kalt wasn't just blowing smoke.
"You'll be shocked when you see them yourself."
"Even I think so."
"Beyond imagination, truly."
With the capital stabilized, Kalt of the Guarders had wrapped up his duties and headed to the front lines. He often worked ops with Belnoa and Chloe, sending letters like that. Said she'd be amazed upon meeting them.
And indeed, she would be.
The past three years hadn't been eventful just for Lania. Tonguing her cheek at the trials Belnoa and Chloe had overcome, Lania marveled. As expected, they'd chosen the hardest paths, never the easy ones.
...Faster than I thought.
Impressed by their swift growth and figuring they'd reach her soon, Lania flipped through the pages.
Skipped Resti—saw her recently.
The princess is probably handling succession...
Finally, she reached news on the disciple preoccupying her most: the boy who'd inherited Ganikalt's sword, Rak van Grace.
"......"
Rak's updates weren't just from newspapers.
Classified files from the knight order's intel, plus a letter from the Knight Commander. The moment she checked it, Lania's eyes narrowed. Mid-stride, she halted.
A photo arrived with the letter.
Lania stared at it for a long while. Then her expression hardened.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Time to get to the point."
Belnoa set her glass down with a clink.
Having purged the alcohol with mana, she drew a letter from her bosom. Stamped with the Knight Commander's seal.
"Just so you know, Rak."
Sensing the shift in mood, Rak straightened up. The buzz was long gone.
"Ten days ago, you repelled a demon army horde at the Petel Tundra. All by your lonesome. Clean sweep, not a single beast left behind. That's the story going around. Right?"
Rak narrowed his eyes.
That was the public story. Meaning Belnoa had info that hadn't leaked.
Rak probed casually. "You knew all along?"
"I'm a hero's comrade, after all. Our trip here's got surface reasons, but the real one's investigating that incident you had."
Belnoa exhaled deeply.
"Demon army showed up, and you beat them back—true. But that's not the end, is it? You tracked the remnants..."
"And chased the fleeing ones into the Titna Frostpeaks. Planned to uproot them completely."
Rak finished her thought.
"But there was no outpost."
Rak eyed the empty glass on the table.
Staring into it, he murmured, "Precisely, there was. Just traces of it being torn apart by something. Did you get that photo too?"
"...Yeah."
Belnoa tore open the letter on the table.
A single photo slipped out with a thud.
It showed a forest massacred. Trees ripped up by the roots and scattered. Demon soldiers butchered. Blood splatters everywhere, corpses dangling carelessly from felled giants. Like a massive beast had clawed through.
Pointing at it, Rak said, "Old northern warriors who've lived decades here swear no beast could do that. Scholars say no such monster exists up north."
"Knight order's verdict matches. No beast leaves marks like this. Big problem on its own..."
Plenty problematic already.
Could be some new mutant beast. But dispatching Belnoa and Chloe urgently had another cause.
"What you told the on-site knights. And your letter to the Commander."
Belnoa spoke lowly.
"You said this wasn't a beast's work, right?"
"Yeah."
Rak nodded.
"The marks on-site... weren't just claw gashes. They were..."
A warrior and swordsman himself, he declared:
"Sword marks."
No one else saw them as such.
But Rak knew sword marks. He had to. The crude, savage claw-like scratches shared a root with his own techniques.
Ganikalt van Galatrick.
The great swordsman's ancient branch of swordsmanship from ages past. Trained in its offshoot, Rak was certain. The frostpeak traces bore Ganikalt's sword essence.
But...
"Something was off."
"Off how?"
"The foundation's the same. But it didn't feel like a human's swing. Crude, chaotic... feral. Like instinct-driven flailing."
"...What're you saying?"
Rak rubbed his chin.
"Felt like a non-human beast mimicking a human's sword."