Chapter 371
Chapter 371
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 371
Chapter Title: Suspicious Sword Traces
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A few photos and a report analyzing them.
The photos captured the butchered northern forest. Alongside them were chunks of Demon King's army soldiers sliced into tiny pieces of flesh. Lania stroked her chin as she laid out the photos, taken from various angles, across the table.
"...Hmm."
Traces like something had been clawed open with long nails.
A scene of carnage as if a beast had rampaged.
From the messy gashes etched into the ground, it looked like some demonic beast had gone wild—but Rak, who had discovered the site first, had confidently declared these marks to be "traces of swordsmanship."
And he said they resembled the sword style he himself used...
It had to be referring to Ganikalt's swordsmanship.
The path of the sword forged by the first superhuman.
Though it had been refined over time by countless swordsmen... at its root lay Ganikalt's techniques, used by Rak, Kyle, and the superhumans tied to the Sword Sanctum.
'Galratric Style.'
Lania knew well the terror of that swordsmanship. She had no choice but to know it intimately, having experienced it firsthand with her own body. But... these chaotic gouges in the earth shared roots with that terrifyingly precise art?
"No matter how I look at it, something's off."
Lania propped her chin on her hand and peered at the photos.
Her gaze settled on one that captured the ravaged snowy mountain landscape in a single frame. Staring at it, she muttered bluntly.
"...This wouldn't end at just this level, would it?"
The marks mimicked a powerful demonic beast's rampage, but that was it. A scene of devastation contained entirely within one photo. It was certainly anomalous, but far too small-scale to warrant real concern.
Yes, it was minor.
If the Sword of Death—or something connected to it—had rampaged, it wouldn't have stopped at something so trivial. An entire flank of the snowy mountain would have been cleaved away, or the peak itself collapsed.
To begin with, the Sword of Death couldn't even reach that far.
Bound by its contract, after all.
Tap, tap. Lania drummed her fingers on the table, furrowing her brow. Traces too insignificant to make an issue of. Considering the scale of knights stationed or dispatched in the north currently, they could handle it with ease.
But something felt off.
Traces of a demonic beast mimicking human swordsmanship.
Footprints and marks utterly unlike any demonic beasts discovered so far. And countless other details nagging at her.
"......"
A moment of contemplation.
Then Lania rose from her seat.
2.
Three years' time.
As she walked, Lania reflected on the past three years.
Three years had flowed by since setting out as the Hero. Many things had happened in that span, but it hadn't been as turbulent as her days living as Raniel.
Honestly, it had been rather quiet.
The Sword of Death had vanished.
The heretic Gletus had retreated deep into the Demonic Realm, his survival uncertain. The madman remained missing, and the Demon King, stripped of immortality, never appeared on the battlefield. No enemy worth calling a real threat had shown up.
If I had to pick a strong foe...
The skullhead?
No, calling that thing a strong foe felt off now. In Lania's tent stood a tower built from Skeval's skulls, the one at the top engraved with the number "43."
Meaning the forty-third skull.
These days, whenever she encountered the skullhead, she spent more time pondering how to cleanly extract its skull. Aware of this, Skeval would hastily chant a self-destruct spell whenever their eyes met.
...Tangent aside, the point was this.
It was unnaturally quiet.
Excluding the variable from two years ago, the past three had been utterly uneventful. Thus, Lania had focused entirely on expanding the front lines.
"This is the entirety of the contract."
"The first contract I kept from you—this is it. Now, I can entrust it to you."
The truth and full details of the contract she'd heard from Cardi.
Considering that, her current actions were correct. Pushing the front lines toward the heart of the Demonic Realm. And fulfilling the "condition."
Everything was going smoothly so far.
Smooth enough to feel serene.
Yet Lania never forgot that this stillness was the calm before a storm. While the world sang of humanity's hope and victory, she alone prepared for the worst.
So, I must control it.
To avert the worst.
And to reach the best outcome, she had to control every variable. Over the past three years, Lania had eliminated countless such variables. And now, her instincts were screaming.
Something was brewing in the north.
She felt the need to contain it before it ballooned into a true variable. Or at least prepare countermeasures.
"......"
Lania halted her steps.
She had stopped before a small tent. Before entering, she took a short breath to steady herself.
"Natida."
Calling her name elicited a sharp gasp from inside the tent. Lania waited, arms crossed, and soon someone stumbled out.
"Ugh, ow. Who...?"
Hollow eyes, disheveled hair.
Standing before Lania in rumpled clothes, she tilted her head slightly. It took one second to register who stood there. Three more seconds of blinking, refusing to accept reality.
"......"
After a total of four seconds, her already sunken eyes hollowed further. As if she'd instantly grasped why Lania had come.
"...L-Lady Lania?"
"Yeah."
"Um, just to be sure."
"Go ahead."
"Is this... work?"
"Work, obviously."
The woman called Natida clamped her mouth shut.
Then she rummaged in the pocket of her loosely draped robe and pulled something out. A scroll the size of a small stick, rolled tight and stuffed with powder. In short, a smoke.
"...Can I light it up inside?"
Lania shot a glance at Natida's trembling fingers and nodded with a sigh.
3.
"Ignite... ignition stone..."
With the smoke in her mouth, Natida rummaged through her bosom and slyly glanced at Lania. With another sigh, Lania snapped her fingers.
Snap, hiss.
"Th-thank you, ma'am."
"Take it out of your mouth first. Then talk."
Grinning around the smoke, Natida inhaled deeply. Her hollow eyes briefly sharpened with focus. She exhaled a long plume with a satisfied "fuuuuh," then wedged the smoke between her fingers.
"So, what brings you here?"
Her voice clearer than before.
Lania pointed ahead.
"We'll talk while walking. Follow me."
Crossing a plain littered with ruins of an ancient civilization, Lania glanced back at Natida trailing her. Light brown hair falling messily to her shoulders. A robe haphazardly thrown over disheveled clothes.
And dull "greenish" eyes.
"Natida."
"Yes, speak."
"How've you been lately?"
Instead of answering, Natida let out a long breath.
Exhaling thick gray smoke with it, she ground the smoke against the back of her hand to extinguish it. Sizzle. The still-hot tip left a scar on her pale skin... but it faded in an instant.
Brushing the ash from her now flawless hand, Natida spoke.
"Too good, honestly?"
She smiled and pointed at the smoke she'd just smoked.
"A job where the Hero herself lights my smokes. Compared to the old days, it's paradise. No complaints."
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Body's fine too, of course."
Natida rolled up her baggy sleeve. Her slender forearm was pale and smooth. No trace remained of the injection scars or self-harm marks from a year ago.
"Cravings hit periodically... but smoking helps with that. Frequency's dropping too. Good news, right?"
"Good news."
"Honestly, if you gave me less work, the cravings might ease up more."
Lania let out a hollow chuckle.
"Nonsense. What, how much do you think I'm piling on you?"
"...Dead serious."
"Whatever. As long as you're okay."
Lania pulled a letter from her bosom.
A letter sealed with her signature ashen seal. Handing it to Natida, she spoke.
"Go check out the north for me."
"...Pardon? Suddenly?"
"Something came up."
Placing the letter in Natida's hand, Lania shoved several photos in front of her eyes.
"It's nagging at me. Not a problem right now, but it bugs me. Head north, investigate this."
And respond if things escalate.
She left the unspoken part unsaid. Natida knew it well enough. Taking the photos and turning them this way and that, she spoke up.
"The north... you mean that place?"
Natida grinned.
"Where that super handsome young lord is? The disciple you raised yourself."
"Dunno about handsome, but yeah. Where my disciple is."
"Rak van Grace, guardian of the north?"
"Right. I'll send a letter ahead, so show him this one and request cooperation."
Cooperation, cooperation.
Muttering that, Natida tilted her head.
"I'm technically with the Church, though. Is it okay to go there? They hate Church folk."
Lania knew the north had rejected the Delorim Church. But in her view, no issue here. Her name carried weight, but...
"Who'd take one look at you and think 'Church member'?"
Hollow eyes.
Constantly smoking and sloppy attire. Hardly the image of a devout follower. Glancing at her own clothes, Natida nodded absently.
"Fair point. So, mission's just investigate?"
"Oh, and say hi to Rak for me."
"Not going yourself?"
"Want to, can't."
Lania gestured at the vast front lines.
"Who holds this if I leave?"
No time to visit mentor or disciples. Guarding one front alone while supporting neighbors, her absence would punch holes through the lines.
The current battlefield held by a single superhuman: Lania van Trias.
The world sang of victory and hope, but reality was this: humanity leaned entirely on one Hero. Her absence would collapse every front in moments.
Like walking a tightrope.
With that thought, Lania patted Natida's shoulder twice. Among those she could send in her stead, no one fit better—symbolism included, and crisis response.
"Go in my place. Check the situation."
"Kinda annoying, but orders are orders."
Because it's from my benefactor.
Natida nodded, muttering. She shrugged off her robe, shook the dust into the air with a puff, and redonned it properly. Saluting Lania, she declared.
"Saintess Natida. Mission acknowledged."
Saintess Natida.
After Sara lost her Saintess blessing, this generation's new Saintess, chosen by the stars.
"But Hero."
"Yeah? What?"
"One more before I go."
Lania chuckled wryly at Natida, who grinned with a smoke already in her mouth.
"Fine, light up. Enjoy."
"Thank youuu."
Hiss. The smoke ignited.
Saintess Natida.
Some called her this.
The drug-craving Saintess.