Chapter 444
Chapter 444
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 444
Chapter Title: The Realistic Hero
What surged toward him was an ancient calamity.
The tree sea flood barreled forth, pulverizing the earth, the colossal gods' corpses, and everything in its path, taking the form of an armored dragon. At the sight of it, Destel let out an involuntary chuckle. It was truly a joke too bitter to laugh at.
Thud.
He slammed his foot down on the ground and gripped the spear shaft tightly.
What flashed through his mind now was the battlefield he'd once fled from—the one where, despite being the overall commander, he'd been too much of a sniveling coward to issue orders or make choices.
'But.'
Destel's eyes widened.
He wouldn't look back anymore. His gaze fixed straight ahead. Without averting his eyes from what he had to face, he muttered through gritted teeth.
"Not forever."
In his hand was the Star Spear.
The weapon wielded by the most heroic of heroes.
"I can't keep doing that."
What he'd borrowed was the brilliance Galrahal had cradled in his final moments.
The life of a man who, after a lifetime of torment, had grasped his answer.
'To borrow something like this and...'
Surely, he couldn't disgrace himself by fleeing like he had back then. Shouldering his fear, the man took one more step forward. The Star Spear clenched in his fist shone even brighter, as if responding to its new master's resolve.
Crack.
Destel kicked off the ground.
Splash—the blood of the gods pooled on the floor sprayed up. By the time the splattered blood rained back down, the gods' blood was boiling. Beneath the searing starlight, the impurities burned away.
Twirl, then thrust.
Destel spun the spear once and charged straight at the maw of the oncoming colossal tree trunk, gripping it fiercely. Realizing starlight was entering its body, the colossal tree snapped its jaws shut. The radiant glow was swallowed by the calamity, if only for a moment...
Flash.
Light leaked out from the gaps between the tangled roots, accompanied by a blinding burst.
2.
The instant he leaped into the colossal tree's gaping maw, Destel faced roots extending in hundreds, thousands of directions. The tree's interior held no vital points or organs like those of an armored dragon.
...He knew that.
The colossal tree Abaddon had merely borrowed the armored dragon's form; it didn't share its structure. Destel swung his spear at the surging roots, kicked off the undulating ground, and dashed through the tree's innards.
Even knowing that, he'd plunged inside for good reason.
Destel peered beyond the thousands of encroaching roots. There lay the tree's core, pulsing like a heart—that was the essence of this massive calamity. Piercing it would cause the rootless tree to collapse.
Screeech, grind grind grind grind.
As if reading Destel's intent, the colossal tree began resisting fiercely. The ground beneath his feet rippled. This was the tree's interior; everything visible was its trunk and roots.
From the ground, the sides, the sky—razor-sharp roots erupted from all directions. Thousands of roots lunged without even a moment to step forward.
Squeeeal!
A root from his blind spot pierced him, one he couldn't fully deflect with his spear swing. Blood poured from Destel. Yet his breathing remained steady. Eyes blazing, he charged onward.
...Endure. Hold fast.
As he gritted his teeth and sprinted, what Destel saw was the tree's core—but also someone's life. He recalled the life of Galrahal, whom he'd witnessed through the relic.
A summarized, condensed, vague portrayal of a life.
As was typical of lives seen through relics, Galrahal's appeared that way too. But one memory stood vivid: his final stand on the battlefield.
The horde of heretics surging forth.
The endless waves of calamity crashing without respite.
Before those waves, Galrahal vomited blood time and again. He was impaled repeatedly, hurled aside over and over. Even as the armored dragon bit into him, he pressed on. Recalling that, Destel clenched his jaw and swung the Star Spear.
...Like him. Like the most heroic of them all.
Tracing Galrahal's movements in his mind, recalling the battles he'd once witnessed, Destel advanced. He swung, thrust, and parried with the spear. Reenacting the techniques of the heroes he'd emulated and those he'd observed from afar in Galrahal.
Not all his reenactments were perfect.
Unable to borrow the relic's power now, Destel's techniques were mere half-baked imitations. Reliant only on his physical prowess and starlight—crude and clumsy. Yet Destel pressed forward.
Splat.
Roots pierced his body relentlessly, blood gushing forth.
He groaned, faltering for a split second, but Destel stepped ahead again. He never yielded. He battered the incoming roots, sometimes stomping them underfoot, running and running toward the front.
Shrieeeek!
...Experience built from imitating others' techniques, mimicking their ways. Clutching those memories, Destel swung his spear. Swinging it like Galrahal, vomiting blood like Galrahal, pushing ahead.
The core drew nearer.
A little farther, and he'd reach it. Was it impatience at that fact? Or had the tree's resistance intensified?
Squeeeal!
A thrusting root pierced Destel's wrist.
He swung his arm to sever it, but his grip weakened, and the Star Spear slipped from his hand. As the spear soared into the sky, knocked away by the roots, Destel watched it.
The spear he'd let go.
The spear spinning in the air.
Destel kicked off the ground and leaped after it.
Reclaiming the dropped spear mid-fall. Even as roots impaled him, Destel finally reached the tree's core.
Splat.
Finally, he plunged the Star Spear into the core's center.
The Star Spear flickered briefly, then starlight erupted violently. The bursting starlight incinerated the core. All the surging roots burned to ash.
Flash—the starlight overflowed.
Deprived of its core, the colossal tree crumbled. The tangled roots turned to scattered ash. Amid the drifting ashes, Destel exhaled the breath he'd been holding.
"Kuhk, haa...!"
The moment he breathed out, blood gushed madly from his wounds. Pierced, torn, gaping injuries. Through the sparks dancing in his vision, Destel raised his head.
...The colossal tree Abaddon had fallen.
His view cleared amid the disintegrating ash.
He thought the cleared path would lead to the temple's heart, that his role was done. But that was merely Destel's hope.
"...Ha."
Destel smiled bitterly.
The path remained blocked. Countless colossal gods still stared him down, as if refusing to let him pass.
"This is exhausting, so exhausting."
Leaning on the Star Spear to support his body, which felt ready to collapse any second, Destel let out a long breath. He wanted to slump right there, but he sensed his assigned role wasn't over yet.
"......"
Destel glanced back.
There followed Chloe and Belnoa. His role was to get those two to the temple's center. He couldn't lag behind after coolly telling them to "follow."
'That'd be too embarrassing to live down.'
Not that there'd be much left of him to embarrass.
Whatever.
"Hoo..."
Exhaling deeply, Destel gripped the spear with trembling hands. He pulled the Star Spear from the ground, steeling himself to go as far as he could. At that moment—
Rumble rumble rumble.
The earth shook.
Another new enemy? Without tiring? Destel raised his head with that thought... but he wasn't the only one wary of the ominous tremor.
The colossal gods were turning back too.
The quake originated between the temple's heart and the colossal gods. As it momentarily subsided, a voice echoed across the entire battlefield. A voice laced with mana.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Gate A massive gate materialized between earth and sky.
The moment Destel saw the emblem carved on it, he couldn't help but laugh. It seemed his role was finally over. Turning back, he opened his mouth.
"You guys."
Looking at Chloe, Destel smirked.
"Picked a good friend."
Emblazoned on the gate was the Ashen Mage Tower's symbol.
Just as in the past with the Ashen Mage, it no longer symbolized the tower itself. Long ago, it had come to represent the woman who had seized control of the Ashen Mage Tower.
...On the battlefield, the Demon King's forces would shout upon seeing it—with reverence, trembling in fear.
"The Ashen Witch."
The Ashen Witch, Resti Elena.
Her voice resounded across the battlefield.
"Open." ⟨ Gate ⟩
The gate opened at its master's call.
The summoner at the pinnacle flung wide the doors to her treasure vault... her arsenal. Beyond the opened gate stretched endless darkness.
Clack.
The Ashen Witch stepped forward beneath the darkness, toward the colossal gods. Clack—her footsteps echoed. Slowly, she raised her head. Pale purple hair cascading to her waist swayed in the blowing wind.
Revealed through the fluttering locks were the eyes once possessed by the being the colossal gods feared most.
The Watcher raised her arm toward the colossal gods. Pointing at them, she declared, "Target designated." At that instant, the darkness in the sky's open gate surged violently.
📜 SKILL ACTIVATED 📜 Summon-All The darkness tore open.
Emerging first from the rift was the form of a massive armored dragon. No, not an armored dragon. What cloaked its surface wasn't armor... but ore of the same material used to build mage towers.
An earth dragon shrouded in ore etched with countless circuits emerged from beyond the open gate. It was no longer a mere familiar. It was more like a mage tower itself.
The Ashen Witch's masterpiece, the Magical Bone Dragon.
The dragon cloaked in the mage tower roared.
Following the fully manifested masterpiece, her legions poured from the gate's fissure without end. Before the ceaselessly surging army and the Magical Bone Dragon rampaging, tearing and piercing the colossal gods, they could no longer target Destel.
Slowly, the path began to open.
Shrieeeek!
Driving the wedge home was a fierce sword aura shooting skyward. The erupting sword ki bisected a colossal god blocking the way. Raging amid the spraying blood was the superhuman titled Annihilator.
"...Always."
Annihilator, Rak van Grace.
Holy Maiden, Natida.
Ashen Witch, Resti Elena.
With the reinforcements' arrival, Destel chuckled.
His role was done. But he still had a little time left. Destel gazed at the Star Spear in his hand.
...The Star Spear, its starlight flickering intensely.
It would soon leave his grasp, but he had enough time left for one strike. Looking at the starlight leaking from the Star Spear, Destel exhaled briefly.
Galrahal's starlight was Convergence.
The star's property of accumulating light with every spear swing, then releasing it all at once. He'd mumbled that it allowed him to land a hero's strike on foes stronger than himself... the starlight that made a true hero's blow possible.
'Hero... a hero's strike...'
Destel smirked and twirled the Star Spear once. Starlight bloomed from the spun spear. Dragging the swirling starlight, he slammed his right foot down with a boom, pulling his left foot back firmly.
He drew a deep breath, pulling his arm back.
His fingers gripping the spear creaked. Veins bulged on his skin. Blood spurted from reopened wounds as he strained. Amid it all, Destel peered beyond the slowly parting path.
There, he saw the apostate watching him.
"That power you hold is a curse," she said.
He met the calamity's gaze.
"A terrible curse for a coward, a child who can never become a hero, a child who can never shine."
In that moment of eye contact, her whispered prophecy resurfaced. Chewing on her words, Destel curled his lips.
"You will run, right up to the very last moment."
"And you will hate it."
"This curse you call a blessing."
Yes, he had hated it.
He had run, and run again.
Grown卑劣, hidden, avoided choices, ignored everything—just focused on surviving. Lived as a coward.
"But."
Destel laughed.
"Now I'm standing before you."
Without running.
To defy her prophecy head-on, Destel would become a hero here and now.
...The hero Kyle Toben spoke of was a perfect being who always triumphed. The hero Galrahal described saved everyone, becoming a symbol of hope.
Then what of Destel?
What was the most realistic hero's hero?
"The wedge."
A being who became the wedge in the shaking battlefield.
A being who drove the wedge leading to victory.
Thus, Destel had always considered someone who created unimaginable variables a hero. He'd once wished to become such a special existence.
...Now was the time.
This was the moment to become that.
Destel exhaled the breath he'd held and swung his arm. With all his might. Pouring everything he had.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Spear Throw The most realistic hero, borrowing the most ideal hero's power, unleashed a hero's strike. The wedge of light hurtled toward the apostate.