Chapter 383
Chapter 383
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 383
Chapter Title: Shattered Pride
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He couldn't protect a single thing.
Every breath brought blood seeping out, torn muscles screamed in agony, and shattered bones stabbed at his organs. The physical pain washed over him, but that was nothing. He could endure that much, no problem.
What tormented Rak the most was the humiliation. The emptiness. The crushing self-loathing of having protected nothing.
Looking around, the ground was littered with the corpses of warriors. For those whose honor had been trampled and pride mocked, Rak had wanted to exact revenge in their stead. It was the only thing he could do, he thought. But what was the result?
Defeat.
He had to taste utter, devastating defeat.
Blood tears streamed from eyes burst with ruptured capillaries. His jaw trembled as he ground his molars together. His broken fingers clawed at the snow piled on the tundra, crunching with a gritty sound. For the first time, the boy tasted humiliation. He had to swallow utter powerlessness.
Crunch.
Gnashing his teeth, Rak lifted his head.
The beast was now out of sight, far away, but Rak glared in the direction it had gone. Of course, he couldn't give chase. Even if he did, he knew he couldn't win.
Crunch.
He despised himself for even thinking that—for trying to accept defeat.
...An opponent he couldn't beat.
An enemy far beyond his level.
This wasn't the first time he'd clashed with such a being. He'd faced the Sword Ghost Draka, the Blade of Death Ganikalt. And countless other formidable foes. But in every one of those battles, she had been at his side.
Raniel van Trias.
On battlefields where she fought alongside him, Rak never tasted the humiliation of defeat or the pain of loss. She was always the one who lost something. The battlefields she designed were a "perfect" stage for him.
Fights on a designed stage.
Battlefields where, sooner or later, Raniel would intervene, ensuring he lost nothing.
Only now did Rak realize he'd crossed nothing but such stages. He had grown complacent, thinking himself strong enough—not to stand beside Raniel, perhaps, but to protect those around him. Satisfied with that much.
'No.'
It wasn't true.
He fell woefully short. The years of peace had been upheld by one person alone, and without her, he was utterly powerless.
Powerlessness. Humiliation. Loss.
With his mangled, broken fingers, Rak raked at the snow. Blood trickled from under his nails, staining the white ground. Then—
His shoulder twitched.
...A smell.
Rak caught the beastly stench assaulting his nostrils—the foul odor of magical beasts. That reek forced him to his feet. Looking around, countless magical beasts were swarming in.
The beasts that had followed their king.
They knew better than to touch the king's chosen prey—Rak. So instead, they lunged at the remnants the king had left scattered about. Or perhaps they eyed the northern humans beyond him.
Crunch.
They tore into the warriors' corpses strewn across the tundra. Sinking teeth into flesh, ripping away chunks. Rak stared blankly. He felt his fragile grip on sanity snap.
Defiled.
His brothers, whose pride had been crushed.
Those who couldn't even close their eyes in death.
Now mocked by mere beasts.
He couldn't bear it. He couldn't just stand by. Rak forced his broken body to move, reaching for the sword he'd dropped.
"————!"
Clutching the greatsword with his shattered hand, Rak let out a guttural roar and charged the beasts. More flung about by the blade than wielding it, he swung wildly, cleaving the creatures defiling his brothers' bodies.
But no matter how many he cut down, they kept coming.
Eventually, a few corpses were devoured and gone. Rak could only save a handful, and as their numbers dwindled, his resistance grew fiercer. What value was there in guarding the already-dead? Even Rak didn't know.
It was simply unbearable.
Unbearable, so he swung his sword.
The beasts, unable to handle his growing frenzy, bypassed him and headed deeper into the north. For a fleeting moment, relief that he'd at least protected Oyakal's body—but then Rak looked where they were going and let out a hollow laugh.
The north.
Heading into the north.
The moment he saw countless magical beasts pouring into the north, something inside Rak crumbled. Visions of the inevitable future flashed through his mind.
"Ah, haha."
A dry, cracked laugh escaped him.
Unable to drop his sword or chase after them, Rak stood there in a daze.
2.
Only after a long time could Rak move again. Dragging his greatsword behind him, he walked. His broken legs wouldn't run properly, so he dragged one along with the sword as he went.
Screeech.
After trudging endlessly—what should have been a short sprint to the walls—he finally arrived. What he saw made him whisper.
"...Ah."
The main gate of the north's defensive wall was breached.
Had the overwhelming horde finally broken through? Rak stared vacantly into the gate. Acrid smoke billowed up.
...Please. Please, no.
His heart on the verge of collapse, Rak kept walking. The Beast King had wiped out most of the north's main force—the Yeolse Warriors. Stopping a horde this size required mighty warriors, but none remained in the north now.
Some warriors would still be there.
But could they hold back all these beasts?
Rak knew it was nearly impossible. Even if they did, the cost would be immense. He followed the road clawed and scarred by the beasts. No beasts, no bodies in sight.
'...Please.'
Please hold them. Miraculously repel them.
Clinging to that hope, Rak walked and walked. How long? Finally, he reached a place thick with the beasts' stench.
Bloodstains everywhere.
Not human blood.
Dark blue blood from magical beasts.
Countless beast corpses littered the ground, but no human ones among them. Rak slowly, very slowly raised his head.
"........."
A mountain of beast corpses.
A woman perched atop it. Covered in blood, her clothes in tatters. Spitting up blood from her mouth, yet a cigarette dangled from her lips.
Saintess Natida.
She exhaled deeply.
"Hoo..."
Smoke rose.
Legs crossed, smoking her cigarette, she glanced down absentmindedly. Her eyes met Rak's, staring up at her.
"...Young lord?"
She descended, stepping over the corpses. Landing with a thud, she winced and patted her waist.
"Ow, that hurts."
Flicking the cigarette onto a beast corpse, Natida looked at Rak.
"You safe? No, looking at you..."
She trailed off lightly, then fell silent at Rak's expression and state. Bowing her head slightly.
"My apologies for the poor choice of words."
Rak stared at her with hollow eyes.
"...The civilians?"
His voice broken and halting. Natida answered as earnestly as she could.
"They started evacuating the moment they saw the signal flares. I held the wall... once they were clear, I opened it and we fought street battles inside with the warriors."
It's my specialty, after all.
Buying time, neutralizing the beasts.
Muttering that, she tugged her tattered clothes to cover her pale neck. Smoke leaked from the star-shaped stigmata engraved there.
"Scent that kills magical beasts."
A beast nearing her suddenly collapsed. It convulsed briefly, vomiting blood, then stilled.
"Won't work on the strong ones, but these were mostly run-of-the-mill... seemed to do the trick?"
"Then..."
"We stopped almost all of them. The warriors are mopping up the ones that slipped in... some wounded, but no deaths yet."
Natida smiled bitterly.
"Lots of beasts, but no one to command them."
A horde this size wasn't natural. Someone artificial had orchestrated it—a commander, surely.
But no commander appeared on the field.
"Guessing someone kept their leader out of the fight. Made it easier for us."
Natida looked at Rak.
Her green eyes fixed on him.
The instant their gazes met, she knew. Rak had fought that commander. And it had been a brutal struggle.
So.
"Thanks to you."
She said it straight, looking him in the eye.
Thanks to you, we held.
Rak's pupils trembled at her words.
He swallowed dryly, then finally let the sword drop with a clang. Tension released, he exhaled long, so long.
"Really..."
Relief. Gratitude. A debt owed.
Words swirled, but none escaped. His body, spent beyond limits, gave out.
Rak toppled forward.
Natida caught him.
As he slumped against her shoulder, she gently infused holy power. His breathing steadied, and she whispered softly.
"Well done."
Rest now.
3.
Lania's face hardened as she read the report.
"........."
The Beast King had appeared in the north.
Casualties followed.
Confirming the damage, deaths, wounded, Lania set the report down. Pinching her brow, she ground her teeth.
...It should've gone into the Demon Realm.
The Beast King, headed deep into the Demon Realm—why appear in the north? No signs on any front. Questions raced, but that wasn't urgent now.
It was the enemy she had to catch.
Yet Lania had let it slip away there.
The escaped Beast King learned, headed north, wrought havoc. No one blamed her, but she blamed herself.
"Hoo..."
Lania swept a hand over her face.
Rak's face came to mind.
Rak, who had never known true loss. Lania knew what the Yeolse Warriors meant to him.
'...I need to go.'
Battlefront bound, she had little freedom. But this time, she had to move. Had to face Rak herself.
"Tephran."
"Yes, Hero."
"Send a message to the Ashen Mage Tower's 4th Branch on the western front."
"Right now?"
"Yes. Direct to the Tower Lord."
Tephran moved at once.
Soon, he handed her the connected communication artifact. Lania fitted it to her ear.
"Resti."
"Yes, Senior?"
"I need a favor."
A brief silence, sounds of tidying. Then Resti, as if stepping out.
"Go ahead."
"Can you take over the western front for me?"
"How long?"
"Need to head north. Maybe ten days max."
"Ten days... ten days."
Thumping her arm, Resti said.
"What's the circuit efficiency on the front lines?"
"Topped it off recently—around ninety percent."
"Will need lots of mana stones, but..."
Resti replied.
"Ten days should be fine. Problem is if that skullhead shows. Then what?"
"Kalt will assist. That enough?"
"More than enough."
"Good. Thanks."
After quick scheduling, Lania cut the line. Only Resti could cover her briefly—she could use the circuits Lania left.
'Issue resolved.'
Lania rose slowly.
Face set hard, she draped her robe over her shoulders. Since implanting the star fragment, she'd hoped for a turning point for Rak.
'But...'
Not like this.
Lania prayed fervently that Rak wouldn't choose the wrong path. She knew well the end for those who did.