Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Chapter 65
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Aftermath (1)
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“There don't seem to be any Blackbone Soldiers visible right now.”
“Have you checked the corners of the buildings? They came up from underground, but there's no law saying they couldn't have been summoned inside the structures.”
“We're checking inside the buildings right now as well. Should we link up with the knights?”
Kalt nodded.
“Link up and handle it. Leaving even a single Blackbone Soldier behind could turn into a major problem. Search every last inch.”
“Yes, sir. Understood.”
Kalt twirled his wrist to flick off his sword.
Bone fragments clinging to the hilt pattered to the ground. As he slid the blade into its sheath, Kalt surveyed his surroundings.
The area was littered with crumbled bones.
The knights were sorting out the aftermath, and there were no signs of trouble from the building where the students had evacuated. Finally, Kalt shot a glance toward the Harmain Forest.
The black barrier that had enveloped the forest had already collapsed.
The magic roiling within the woods was settling down.
'...Looks like it was handled well.'
Well, that person had always been a master at pulverizing those skeleton bastards. With that thought in mind, Kalt caught his breath.
Things were wrapping up nicely.
He had taken part in countless operations even before becoming a Hound, but cases that ended this cleanly were few and far between.
'And with the ancient lich Skeval involved, for it to wrap up like this...'
It was nothing short of a miracle.
“Huu...”
Kalt let out a short breath.
The sun was beginning to dip beyond the horizon. As he watched the crimson sunset tint the fading landscape, his gaze naturally drifted toward the Harmain Forest.
'...Come to think of it, Sir Kyle headed in there.'
Some time had passed since the Hero entered the forest. By now, they had surely crossed paths.
'Still, it should be fine, right? They seemed to get along decently with the Hero...'
-Who knows.
Kalt halted his thoughts.
A voice had brushed past his ear. Words the Ashen Mage had once muttered lingered in his mind.
-They'll probably land a good smack or two, at least.
“...”
An inexplicable sense of foreboding gripped him.
Kalt shuddered.
2.
Ashes to Ashes.
My signature spell.
It's classified as fire-type and recorded on the top floor of the Ashen Mage Tower, but...
'It's not that complicated a spell.'
Surprisingly, the principle behind the spell itself is simple.
It devours scattered mana, swells the flames, and detonates them all at once.
'It's a trigger-concept spell, so the prep work is a pain...'
But thanks to those constraints, its power is unparalleled. Once triggered, it can cleanly obliterate just about anything.
“Ugh, smoke.”
I waved my hand to fan away the smoke. No sign remained of the flames from before.
Crackle, crackle.
The momentary blaze had subsided to mere embers. Under normal circumstances, not even embers would linger—just a pile of ash in its place—but...
“Goddamn, you're resilient.”
This bastard had to be exceptionally tenacious.
Crackle, crackle.
Skeval lay at the center of the embers, his skull half-melted. He'd lost his arms and legs, leaving only his gaunt ribs, spine, and shattered cranium.
“...Ash... en.”
Even in that state.
Skeval was still alive.
'Though he'll kick the bucket soon enough.'
The brain-like life vessel visible inside his skull was melting away. Judging by the time, at most a minute before nothing but ash remained.
“You... even after swallowing the shadow, why...?”
“That shadow bullshit again.”
I approached Skeval.
“The black orb the Succubus Queen—that bat bitch—was carrying. You made it, didn't you?”
I planted my foot on his gaunt ribs.
They cracked and crumbled. I continued while grinding down his spine.
“What the hell is this curse? This shadow?”
“...You don't even know that? You blocked the curse without knowing what it was? Just what... are you...?”
“You talk such horseshit.”
Crunch, cruuunch.
The crushed vertebrae crumbled audibly.
“If I'd blocked it properly, would I be stuck looking like this?”
Thinking about it, it was ridiculous.
What kind of curse changes your gender, anyway?
'The asshole who cooked up this curse isn't all there either.'
And that not-all-there asshole was pinned beneath my boot. I stared down at the lich who'd lived for centuries.
“Hey, they say you get numb to thrills after living too long... That why you whipped up this perverted spell?”
“...Ha.”
Skeval sneered and continued.
“Be grateful that what lurked there was a succubus, not a demon beast—and that it wasn't me, Ashen.”
His black eyes gleamed fiercely.
“The curse will rot you from the inside. It'll gnaw your flesh and make you spew black blood every night. You seem fine for now, but...”
“Ah, that?”
I clapped my palms together in front of Skeval. Ashen mana wafted up from them. A minuscule amount, but distinctly alien.
Mana that devours curses.
I thrust the wriggling mana toward Skeval's face.
“...What?”
Skeval's black eyes wavered.
“You—you who never entered the shadow's domain—how? The shadow wielded by the Sword of Death...?”
“Who knows.”
I curled my lips into a smirk.
“Worked when I tried it.”
“Aah, aaaaaaah!”
His black eyes blazed.
No more intel to wring out, so I lifted my foot. My shadow loomed over Skeval's head.
Crunch!
Skeval's skull pulverized beneath my boot.
A wet splat echoed as the life vessel inside burst.
“Ugh, nasty.”
Good call wearing boots.
I scraped the sole against the ground. Once the gunk was roughly wiped off, I glanced around.
“...”
Hm.
'...Should be fine, right?'
I'd gone ham without a care, but now that it was over, the surrounding landscape was a disaster.
“...Yeah, it'll be fine.”
Better than Aphria getting nuked wholesale.
I shook my head firmly and stepped forward.
At any rate, the crisis was resolved.
Altar thwarted, Skeval smashed, and Resti—the altar's medium—seemed unharmed.
Cleanup remained, but barring the mess I'd made, it shouldn't pose issues.
The magic was fading with Skeval's death.
The mana on the verge of critical overload had been partially devoured by the flames—no risk of detonation now.
'Come to think of it, this turned out pretty damn good.'
The thought crossed my mind.
Clean wraps like this were rare.
'The only potential snag is Aphria...'
Even that shouldn't be a big deal.
Kalt was a capable knight. He'd manage even with a day's warning, and I'd tipped him off way earlier—preparations would be ironclad.
'Right, I called in reinforcements too.'
The moment that hit me.
I halted mid-stride.
'Reinforcements.'
Who was coming with them? Only one face sprang to mind.
“Son of a bitch.”
Muttering that, I tilted my head back.
Footsteps echoed. Drawing near.
“...Ha.”
Looks like I was too slow.
“...”
I slowly lowered my gaze. Looked ahead.
A figure approached from beyond the trees. I stared at him. He stared back.
Black hair caught my eye first.
No armor. He knew his body was tougher than any plate.
“Fuck.”
A curse slipped through my lips.
'Of all people, really didn't wanna see this one.'
I sighed as I watched the approaching bastard. Long time no see, but no mistaking that face.
The lone survivor of our razed village alongside me.
The only one I could call a hometown friend.
'Hero, Kyle Toven.'
The asshole who'd booted me from the Hero Party was heading my way.
3.
The body bestowed by the stars enabled much.
Sensory expansion came without training, far beyond human limits long ago.
Kyle narrowed his eyes.
Something snagged at the edge of his vastly expanded vision. The devastated forestscape.
Trees uprooted wholesale, rolling across the ground.
The earth pitted and gouged, long scars from hurling and clawing.
No blade cuts lingered.
Traces of some massive beast gone berserk.
Neither warrior's nor mage's handiwork. The Hero Kyle recognized it instantly.
'...That guy showed up after all.'
Battle Mage.
Only the one called that could leave such marks. Recognizing them, Kyle frowned.
The situation was already over.
Kyle slid his holy sword back into its sheath.
He attuned his ears to the lingering presences in the woods and proceeded. First he encountered was a girl leaning against a tree.
Her uniform marked her as an Aphria student. Likely the one selected as the medium.
“...”
Kyle noted the robe draped over the girl.
The very type that guy favored. Certainty solidified. That guy was somewhere in this forest.
Kyle delved deeper into the woods.
The further in, the closer the presence.
His steps slowed.
Steps slow when facing someone you don't wish to meet. But he didn't turn back.
'That would look even more pathetic.'
Soon, the tree-obscured view opened wide.
A treeless clearing in the forest.
Across that empty space, Kyle locked eyes with the figure opposite.
First to catch his eye: ash-gray hair.
The same shade as that guy's.
But the length differed. Ash-gray locks cascading to the waist felt alien.
Unfamiliar.
At that unfamiliarity, Kyle narrowed his eyes.
Next came blue irises.
Pale white skin, slender limbs entered view. As his gaze swept the body, Kyle realized.
It wasn't that guy.
Even realizing that, Kyle didn't stop. Drawn by something, he advanced.
Step, step.
He crossed the clearing toward the figure. Up close, unfamiliarity hardened to certainty.
Step.
Kyle halted before the figure.
Looking down, it was a woman. She evoked that guy, but the gender differed.
“...”
A girl of a woman.
She looked up at him. Blue eyes like that guy's met his own.
“You.”
Kyle spoke.
“Who are you?”
“...”
The girl offered no reply.
Instead, she scowled. Eyes narrowed. The emotion she bared plainly: loathing.
A gaze thick with disgust.
That gaze itself felt alien to Kyle.
Kyle was the Hero. The Hero symbolized light. Cheers and admiration followed wherever he went. Only one had ever shot him such contempt.
'Raniel.'
For an instant, the girl overlapped with that guy.
But only briefly.
Rustle.
The breeze swayed her hair. The overlapped image shook apart. All that remained: the girl glaring daggers.
Meeting that gaze, Kyle thought.
'...She resembles him.'
The build differed, of course.
Only the eye and hair color matched. Yet he couldn't shake the resemblance.
“Rani...”
As the name reached his lips.
The girl spoke.
“Move.”
Her words cut sharp.
Eyes locked straight on Kyle brimmed with venom. As if laced with poison, razor-edged.
“Can't you hear? I said move.”
Kyle gazed down at her wordlessly.
Baseless loathing felt alien.
At the blatant hostility, Kyle didn't budge. He stepped closer instead.
“Ha.”
The girl sneered.
Then silently pivoted aside. As if declaring she'd go around if he wouldn't yield.
Kyle reached out.
Grabbed her wrist as she turned.
“...What the fuck?”
“Wait.”
“Let go.”
“I have questions...”
“I said let go.”
“You...”
“Let. Go. Fucker.”
Crack!
“...”
Kyle frowned.
He looked down. Her foot ground his toes. Deceptively strong force for her frame.
“...I won't drag this out.”
Kyle finally released her wrist. She massaged the red handprint, glaring at him.
“This how a Hero acts, you bastard?”
A sneer played on her lips.
Her piercing glare cut sharp. Kyle paused briefly before continuing.
“...You clocked me as the Hero, huh.”
“I blind or something? How not to?”
Her finger jabbed at the holy sword at his waist. Some might miss Kyle's face, but none overlooked the holy sword.
“...Didn't expect hostility even knowing I'm the Hero. Sorry for the rudeness.”
“Apologize by bowing your fucking head, asshole.”
“I was taught a head should be heavy.”
“Urk.”
She mimed retching and shook her head.
“Think Hero's some title, fucker.”
“It is. Royals hand out the rank too.”
“Who asked?”
Feeling inexplicable familiarity, Kyle spoke.
“One question.”
He stared straight at the girl.
“Name.”
“...”
“What's your name?”
She answered the question.
The reply was curt.
“Fuck off.”
She raised her hand.
Folded fingers one by one.
“Why the hell should I tell you?”
The last finger standing: middle.
She shoved it in Kyle's face.
“...”
Kyle was at a loss for words.
Author's Note
Originally, I planned to end with "Your XX, fucker." or something mom-referencing, but... even so, mom-insults felt a tad much, so I compromised.
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