57. Succession (2)
57. Succession (2)
Divine Realm.
"...Inkrinew died?"
What should we call that?
Crimson clouds, mist.
An indescribable being gazed over the golden ground where there was nothing.
The golden throne that sat alone atop this place was empty—the being that should have been upon it was not there.
The extinction of a god.
That was possible.
However, it was something only a fellow god could do.
Wars between gods to increase birth power and authority.
In fact, in the war of gods that broke out thousands of years ago, numerous gods died.
And after that, wars between gods did not occur. There was no need, because the main gods who started the war, the Eight Evil Gods, had all achieved what they wanted.
Overwhelming force compared to other gods.
If one foolishly stepped forward any further, the Evil Gods would unite to hunt down that Evil God.
"Therefore, it is not the work of a god...."
The red cloud slowly moved over the golden chair.
A crimson air current circled around the chair.
Where had he died?
Finding out who he had been killed by was not very difficult.
"The Astes Empire."
For a god.
***
The morning after hearing from Emperor Agares of the Astes Empire that he had designated the 1st Princess Brigitte as heir to the throne.
Yuma was heading to the training ground.
Bel had finished a simple breakfast and left, so where she would be was obvious.
Bel was swinging her sword.
<Cherten Style>.
The swordsmanship of the 2nd Sword Master of Balmung, Cherten Pel Decán, was unfolding in Bel's hands.
Yuma's blue eyes captured Bel's movements.
And those movements were also captured by Balmung's eyes.
-It is perfect <Iron>.
Yuma slowly nodded.
And he stepped into the training ground, approaching Bel.
"You're working hard."
Bel slowly turned her head.
She probably knew he was there from the moment he set foot in this place. But she turned her head only after he approached and spoke.
"Yeah, hehe."
And she smiled bashfully.
It was cute, but there was an awkwardness about it.
'Strange.'
Yuma felt that in the past few days, Bel had been subtly awkward around him.
Yet it wasn't like she was distancing herself either. So it felt discordant.
A gap.
It felt like something was standing between Bel and himself.
Yuma opened his mouth.
"Do you have any worries these days, Bel?"
Bel's answer to Yuma's question popped out immediately.
Even though she should have needed time to think before speaking.
"No! I don't have any worries, though?"
Again, it sounded like she deliberately raised her pitch and answered spiritedly.
Yuma smiled and wiped Bel's face with a soft towel, drying the sweat from her forehead, while she stared at him intently.
"If you have any worries, tell me anytime."
The low voice seeped into her ear, hidden by her long blue hair.
Bel clenched her left hand tightly, out of Yuma's sight.
A piercing ache stabbed at her heart.
'Why.'
Why is it that you look after others even when your own body is this ruined?
"The Evil God Inkrinew is definitely an Evil God. And it's a situation where it wouldn't be strange if a few more Evil Gods like that appeared."
Salak...
Yuma stroked Bel's blue hair.
Pink eyes met Yuma's.
"So there must be no obstacles in your training. Not even the slightest hindrance."
An obstacle—.
Could I have become an obstacle to you?
To you, the savior who could be said to have saved this empire itself.
To you, for whom not much time might be left.
Is an existence like me worth spending this much time on?
Bel could not shake off those thoughts.
She could not easily dismiss the anxiety and self-loathing that lay thick like fog.
"Believe in yourself."
But why do you trust me so much?
"Your sword is the sword that will save the world."
Why can you say such things so casually? Why do those blue eyes, clear as water, not waver at all?
"Let's continue the succession of swordsmanship."
Bel slowly walked through the accumulating fog of questions and self-reproach.
Because she could not let this precious time be buried under such adversities.
Therefore, Bel smiled brightly.
"Yes, my lord."
Seureung!
Bel raised her sword.
Yuma took a step back.
"First, show me the <Cherten Style> you learned yesterday again."
Blue flames of Sword Aura flared up on the sword in Bel's hand.
Light flashed in the training ground that had been submerged in shadow.
And then Bel's movements began in earnest.
The more Bel wielded Decan's swordsmanship, the <Cherten Style>, the more she marveled at its profound principles of destruction and slaughter.
Self-confidence.
It was a swordsmanship impossible without self-confidence. The density of Sword Aura. And confidence in physical superiority.
Kugugugugu—!
The blue air current that had only wrapped around the sword instantly enveloped Bel's entire body.
The battle aura that covered her entire body was not wielded as if burning recklessly.
A tranquil lake.
Like gentle ripples, it rose softly from her body.
It was not fiercely powerful, but it was a solid battle aura with no openings to be found.
-Bel-nim's ki management is outstanding. It is a density that even Decan-nim, who was called the War God, would marvel at. As Master said, she is a genius. A genius so great it could be called heaven-sent. Ahhh, since the god Yuma-nim encountered and the god who tormented me were Evil Gods, then she is a genius granted by the world.
Balmung's words echoed in his head.
One useful line, and the rest all useless talk.
Yuma tapped the scabbard at his waist twice again. It was a signal to shut up.
-I will only say what is necessary. Please spare me.
The effect was certain.
It seemed he would rather die than go into the subspace pouch or divine pouch.
After the 2nd Form, Breaking Sword, and 3rd Form, Lightning Flash, they moved to perform the 4th Form, Yellow Springs—the final technique of the Cherten Style—not in the training ground, but in the wide open space behind it.
-If a genius of Bel-nim's level performs <Yellow Springs>, this training ground will be cut in half and the roof will come crashing down. I can guarantee it.
Even in a situation that could land him in the subspace pouch, Balmung's confident statement made it believable.
"The weather is nice."
Bel murmured a brief comment on the clear sky with a faint smile, then looked at Yuma.
"Later. It would be nice to look around the capital together sometime. You seem to have forgotten, but do you know I've never even gone out to have fun? Yuma."
Yuma's eyes slightly widened.
Bel is different.
She is different from others. Because of the karma placed on the White Night Clan, she had been trapped in the land of the White Night for twenty years.
Yuma realized he had not been thinking of that.
Bel had every right to grumble like that.
Because for twenty years she had been denied the outside air that others naturally enjoyed.
'I should have shown her the world a bit.'
Evil God.
Anguished Mercy, Inkrinew.
Ever since that bastard appeared, my mind had grown too hasty. That was why the succession of the swordsmanship of the former sword masters—the knowledge embedded in Balmung—was being rushed.
Yuma opened his mouth.
"I'm sorry. If there's an occasion to go out soon, we should tour the capital together."
—I'm sorry.
As words that bordered on an apology came from Yuma's mouth, Bel's face turned pale for some reason.
"No, no! My lord. I didn't say it to make you sorry. I spoke nonsense at an important time, I'm sorry...."
That was something that, from Bel's perspective, should never come out of Yuma's mouth.
Because she believed there was absolutely no reason for Yuma to apologize in this world.
Yuma could not help but feel a sense of discord again at Bel's oddly flustered words.
'She does seem to be hiding something.'
Yuma thought he really should spend a day with her soon and ask.
Seureung—
Bel drew her sword again.
The 4th Form of the Cherten Style, Yellow Springs, was a horizontal slash, a single strike.
Unlike the techniques so far, it concentrated even the battle aura enveloping the body into a single point on the sword, then swung—a literal one-hit kill.
A blue light surged into the sword.
Jjeojeojeojeok!
The blue currents that had been scattering like heat haze gathered completely into a single point.
Kiiiiiing...
From the gathering of immense ki, the blade even let out a cry and trembled.
A sharp gleam flashed in Bel's pink eyes.
Kwak!
She forcefully planted her right foot, throwing her body forward in an instant.
The blue current extended heavily.
Like a single drop of black ink on white paper, it soared intensely into the sky.
Yuma looked at the slash that seemed about to cleave even space itself and thought.
'...If this keeps up, I might see the sky split.'
Yuma momentarily forgot that he himself had once parried the dragon breath of the black dragon <Elkham-Akreon> and cleaved the clouds with <Absolute Counter>.
He confirmed that Bel could perform the Cherten Style 4th Form, <Yellow Springs>, almost perfectly.
Yuma and Bel went back down to the training ground.
And they slowly passed on the swordsmanship of Balmung's fourth sword master.
"At the end, you twist the sword path."
"Okay, Yuma."
Sarak-
The hem of Yuma's blue clothing brushed against Bel's white training uniform.
Bel liked all those momentary touches.
And so the succession continued until just before evening came again.
Training ended. Bel sat demurely and looked straight at Yuma with her clear pink eyes.
"What is it?"
Bel smiled bashfully.
"Mm, because I like training with you."
"It's dinner time now. Let's go and rest."
"Yeah!"
Yuma and Bel walked side by side.
And they headed to the dining place of the 1st Princess Palace.
***
Brigitte, having neatly finished a plate of pasta, looked at Yuma and said.
"I plan to go find a location for the coronation ceremony. Tomorrow, I intend to take Michael and Cloné."
Coronation ceremony.
A place to announce the next emperor's ascension to the people.
"Isn't that something the vassals do?"
"I wanted to see and choose it for myself, now that this moment has come."
Yuma slowly nodded.
It was reason enough. Since it would be a once-in-a-lifetime moment.
"Take Hestia too."
Even though you have a reliable Sword Master like Michael, having one more capable guard would be good.
Yuma stared at Bel, who was eating pasta at his right side.
"Then, I'll look around the capital with Bel. Tomorrow."
"Uh, tomorrow...?"
Bel, who hadn't realized that the grumbling she'd done a few hours ago would turn into plans for tomorrow, dropped her fork.
Her face was slightly flushed.