Chapter 443
Chapter 443
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 443
Chapter Title: Overflowing Starlight
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Starlight overflowed.
The brilliantly blooming platinum starlight was fundamentally different from the starlight bestowed by the stars above upon humans. It wasn't a gift granted from a superior being to an inferior one, but payment rendered as compensation in a transaction between equals.
Thus, what overflowed was starlight, yet not starlight.
It was the value of one human's life.
The very existence of a certain human who sought to remain a hero until the very end. Therefore, the brilliantly shining platinum flash was a light symbolizing only him.
"...How?"
The apostate's eyes widened at the erupting light.
She could never forget that radiant glow. A voice echoed in the apostate's ears. It was a conversation she'd once had with a certain hero.
Never once.
I've never once thought of the power given to me by the stars as a curse.
The human who had directly denied her words.
Because of the stars' blessing.
I was able to save so many people.
The hero who had given her an unexpected answer, proving her wrong.
If this isn't a blessing, then what is?
"Galla... hal..."
The apostate murmured it unwittingly.
One of the few heroes' names she remembered. The name of the human who had not lost his brilliance even in an era of all falsehoods. Her gaze shook as she unwittingly uttered that name.
And Raniel was no different.
Trampled beneath the foot of a colossus, Raniel gazed at the same sight as the apostate. She took in the same scene. What filled her vision was the overflowing starlight. The moment she beheld it, her gaze shook violently as well...
"...Ha."
But soon, Raniel shook off the tremor with a hollow laugh.
She gritted her teeth.
Raniel forced herself upright amid the grating crunch-crunch-crunch of bone and flesh.
Crack!
Shattering the colossus's foot, Raniel stood tall. She brushed back her disheveled hair and let out a long breath.
"You too."
She took a step toward the apostate.
"And I owe you an apology."
Raniel smiled.
In the face of a variable she could never have imagined, Raniel couldn't help but smile wryly. She'd always thought she was good at reading people, that her judgment of character was impeccable...
"We both misjudged him."
At the very least, when it came to Destel, Raniel had to admit she was completely wrong. Acknowledging one's own mistakes was always painful... but in this moment, Raniel gladly owned her error.
It wasn't卑屈.
"Hero, Destel."
It was非屈—refusing to bend.
"That's the name of the hero you looked down on."
And the name of the hero I misjudged.
The brilliantly shining radiance.
Drawn to it like a beacon fire raised by someone, Raniel stepped forward. She charged toward the apostate.
2.
In this moment, the colossi could not move rashly. They warily eyed the small human before them. They winced at the blinding flash of glory the human had ignited.
...No longer could they disregard Destel.
And so, with all eyes upon him, Destel gazed at the holy spear in his grasp. The weapon the most heroic of heroes, Gallahal, had never let go until the end.
"......"
In slowed time, Destel listened to the whispers of the star robe. The star robe imprinted the lives and convictions of the summoned heroes into Destel's mind, allowing him to understand and emulate them.
Thus, in this moment, Destel confronted the life Gallahal had lived. The convictions he had upheld. The Gallahal he now faced was distant from the hero Gallahal that Destel had known. What stood before him was the human Gallahal.
Gallahal had agonized.
His entire life, he had questioned himself.
Why had he become a hero? Why had this starlight descended upon him, and not upon those who shone more brilliantly? If it had gone to someone else instead, might they have accomplished even more?
...That doubt was not unfamiliar to Destel.
It was a question Destel himself harbored.
Amid such turmoil, Gallahal had walked onward.
Destel had halted in his own doubts, but Gallahal pressed ahead. He wavered, hesitated, paused at times... but he kept walking.
And at the end of that path, Gallahal found his answer.
The human who grasped the answer turned back.
Destel felt as though Gallahal, standing ahead of him, was looking right at him. He said nothing, yet the words that lingered in Destel's ears were the phrase Gallahal had always lived by.
No matter the path, it is not wrong.
Choosing to move toward the light makes it all right.
You and I are no different.
Chewing over those words, Destel smiled bitterly.
"...Anyway."
Destel opened his eyes, which he had closed at some point.
Time, which had flowed sluggishly, regained its pace. Amid the accelerating flow, Destel regarded the holy spear in his hand. It shone brilliantly.
"You're really telling me I've become just like him, huh? Thanks a lot."
The holy spear—a part of Gallahal himself, which he had never released until the end—affirmed Destel. It gladly lent its power to Destel, who had chosen to advance, just as its original master had.
"Hoo..."
Destel exhaled deeply.
What Gallahal lent was only the holy spear. Unlike other heroes, he offered none of his pride, mental fortitude, techniques, or anything else.
Because that was what Destel desired.
Because Gallahal believed it was right.
Gallahal had merely lent Destel the answer he had grasped in the end, the radiance he had held until last. He would provide the power, but Destel must find the answer himself.
"Anyway."
It was a choice just like the strict Gallahal in that regard.
Still the same stubborn bastard, Destel muttered with a smile. Feeling the full weight of the holy spear in his hand was actually for the best, he thought.
——————!
As time resumed its speed.
The colossi bellowed roars and charged at Destel. From the ground, from the sky, roots thrust through the gaps between them. Countless things bore down upon him.
Destel briefly averted his gaze from them.
He turned his head and looked back.
A moment of hesitation. What he uttered after was a line he'd always wanted to say someday. Destel smiled as he spoke.
"I'm heading out first."
Destel faced forward and took a step.
"Follow me."
Thud. Destel kicked off the ground.
Bearing his fear, he advanced. He raised the spear tip toward the surging colossi and charged.
3.
Kicking off the ground, Destel spun his body half a turn with the spear shaft. The spear tip grazed the earth, kicking up dust. From within the rising dust, the heavy whoosh of the shaft slicing through the air resounded.
Craaack!
Striking the ground with the shaft, Destel leaped.
He narrowed his eyes at the colossi feet and roots slamming down where he had just stood.
Power surged through his body. It felt light.
...So this is how it always felt for that bastard Kyle.
No, perhaps even more so.
It was the power one human had earned by devoting his entire life. Having borrowed it, if only briefly, Destel swallowed a deep breath while airborne.
Then, thunk.
From gripping the holy spear with both hands.
To one hand, pulling the forward hand behind his back. Destel exhaled the breath he had taken in. As he did, he swung his arm.
Whiiiiiir!
Spear throw.
A single streak of light pierced the heart of the lead colossus. It skewered the roots approaching from behind and the smaller gods in one thrust. Gazing at the spear tip embedded in the ground, Destel twisted his body.
Whoosh.
Dodging the colossus's thrusting fist, Destel planted his foot on its arm. He began to run along the arm of the god. With each step, sizzle—footprints seared into the colossus's arm.
Drawing starlight in his wake, Destel charged.
Destel's charge outpaced the colossi's movements and the thrusting roots. Attacks unable to keep up with his speed pierced empty air as Destel passed through the torso of the colossus he had pierced and landed on the ground.
Thunk, he yanked the embedded spear free and stomped down.
...Gallahal had taught Destel no techniques, but Destel knew how to wield a spear. Among the heroes he had emulated thus far, there had certainly been spear users, and he knew their arts.
The hero who came to mind was Gnyr.
Gnyr of Succor.
The holy relic he wielded closely resembled Gallahal's holy spear in form. Thus, it was suited for the same techniques.
Gnyr, Gnyr's techniques...
To save even one more soul, Gnyr had mastered spear arts for facing hordes of foes. He favored sweeping techniques over wide areas. Destel recalled the spear arts he had built, the techniques lingering in a corner of his memory.
First Form: Spin.
Without the star robe's aid, Destel emulated the technique. Relying solely on his memory and physical prowess, he recreated a hero's art from centuries past.
Whoosh!
The spear tip, swung horizontally in a wide arc, scattered starlight. Originally, Gnyr of Succor's Spin had merely swept away demon rabble... but the technique Destel now recreated mowed down even the colossi's legs and the ancient calamity's roots.
Shraaaaa!
The spear tip traced a circle.
The legs of colossi touching the spear tip or the starlight extending from it tore apart. Snapped. Destel gripped the swung shaft tightly as the colossi screamed and lost their footing.
Second Form: Pull.
Pulling back the swung spear tip, he slashed upward at an angle.
The gust from the first form surged back along the spear toward Destel. The oncoming wind dragged the colossi along.
Third Form: Slash.
Destel brought the shaft down on the pulled-in colossi. The spear tip arced like a crescent moon. The wind that had rushed in surged back toward the colossi. The diagonal slash devoured them.
Shwick.
As the largest god cleaved in two, blood erupting like a fountain, Destel exhaled deeply. He spun the shaft once, flicking off the blood.
Thud, slamming the shaft into the ground, Destel smiled.
Now Destel leaped toward the colossi. He no longer hesitated. With eyes fixed ahead, his body moved more fluidly than ever. It wasn't solely due to the borrowed power.
...Destel had always tensed his entire body under the weight of his burdens, hesitations, and fears. Now, casting them off to advance, he could fully unleash what he possessed.
Recall it. That guy's movements.
Gripping Gallahal's spear, recalling Gallahal's movements, Destel slammed the shaft into the ground and leaped using the recoil. The guy had run so incredibly fast. To save one more person, to reach the battlefield just a bit sooner...
So, like this.
The colossi now reflected in Destel's eyes were no longer obstacles blocking his path. They were footholds to kick off from, the road he would forge ahead.
Thunk, shraaaaa!
Mounting a toppled colossus, Destel drove the spear into its body and charged. The colossus writhed and screamed, but Destel did not stop. Blood trailed long in his wake.
Thud.
Drenched in the colossus's blood, Destel planted his foot on the ground. He swung the spear tip to shake off the blood, then slowly raised it. Seeing the raised spear tip aimed at them, the colossi faltered and stepped back.
Now, the forgotten gods felt fear of a human.
The human they had deemed lower than insects was now tearing at their throats. The colossi retreated... but the great tree beyond them did not.
【■■, ■■■■■■, ■■■■■■!】 Abaddon's roots pierced the colossi.
As the skewered colossi withered and crumbled, Abaddon, having devoured the gods' blood, began to slowly reshape itself. Into a form to devour the human before it.
The great tree's roots coiled around the tree itself.
Twisting like a vortex, it took the form of an armored dragon. Jaws splitting wide, it churned the earth and charged at Destel.
Grraaaaaawr!
A frame several times larger than the armored dragon.
Gazing at the approaching calamity, Destel let out a smirk. The situation felt oddly familiar. Truly. Destel took a deep breath and assumed his stance.
...Back then, in the Battle of Latena, he had fled.
But not this time.
Never again.
Gripping the shaft tightly as the massive calamity closed in, Destel slammed his foot down with a thud and pulled the shaft behind his back.
"Come on."
This time, he would not yield.