Chapter 79
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: Here Lies the Fake Warrior (5)
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“……Without a body… are we created only to be trapped in that cold shell, unable to even die, destined to be nothing but slaves…?”
Ryukael's cry, like a scream torn from his throat, echoed and reverberated as if within enclosed walls.
“……Then what about our will? Do we not even have the right to live as a single, living being…!”
The form he could see, the voice he could hear, belonged to just one person standing before him.
The only person who had ever mattered in his life.
The person he had yearned for all this time, having realized too late that she was the only one.
《Master? What the hell. Just act normal. Wow, that’s cringey. See these goosebumps?》
It was the residual thought of Camilla Alter Aradamanthel.
A remnant of her soul that lingered within the Supreme Holy Sword Aradamanthel.
Perhaps it wasn't merely a remnant, but something she had left behind for the moment her student became this pathetic.
[…Eldia Mu(04) has been completely corrupted, Young Master. You said to bet on a sliver of hope, but you alone must escape…!]
He couldn't get up.
His lack of strength was one thing, but even if he did stand, how could he possibly fight back?
Everything, every sword technique he had ever built up, was laid bare in the palm of his opponent's hand.
《Hey, do you really think everything is in that bitch's palm? Seriously? Isn't it more likely they failed because they were just sloppy imitations you copied by sight?》
His master spoke.
Her hand had somehow taken hold of the blade of Aradamanthel, the sword of noblest, pure blood.
“……I can’t just let things be. It all ends now. The weak are trash—lazy, dependent, with no will to improve themselves…….》
The blade of pure blood slid into its pure white sheath.
Those cherished days of his youth.
It was the exact same motion she had shown him when first teaching the Ten-Character Sword.
“……If this world must sacrifice for the sake of such weaklings, then it’s better that it perishes as it is…….》
What his master had taught him was the heretical path of the Ten-Character Sword.
A sword style that began only with the Fourth Form: Release, concentrating all its power into a single slash.
A sword designed solely for her student, perfected in that student's hands—a sword Ryukael did not know.
“……I will reclaim the time I have lost. Human history… it’s nothing but a hypocritical world that has unilaterally forced sacrifice upon the strong…!”
A twitch….
A finger lying in a pool of blood moved.
“……Kaduel, you and I were born with the destiny to rule! We don’t have to rule, we can just live as we please…!”
Cough….
He spat out a black clot of blood that had dried and stuck in his throat.
He pushed himself up with his fists, raising his upper body.
“……Isn’t it ecstatic just to think about? How full of bliss would every moment of such a life be? And yet, you and I, who could have that, were born only to die and must fight until we do. How can you just accept that…!”
His body wasn't regenerating.
Proof that he had no lifespan left to fuel his regeneration.
“……You were the one with more interest in the vast universe than anyone! So why do you follow Karenden so tenaciously? That man has no affection or interest in us whatsoever…!”
His hands and feet trembled uncontrollably.
Was it a reaction from all his cells, which had received no signals from the brain since his death, suddenly moving again?
“……Come with me, Kaduel. Don’t follow the same path as Alkaios. If you do, I will mediate with Yotos so that you can receive a new body…….”
He respectfully held out both hands and received Aradamanthel.
Even that was not easy.
The moment he took the sword, a sharp pain shot through him as if his joints were dislocating from the weight, and his stance faltered.
This, despite the Supreme Holy Sword being lighter than a normal sword for the one it acknowledged as its wielder.
《Look at you. You're not just one head taller than me anymore, but two.》
He almost collapsed.
No, he would have collapsed.
If you hadn't come up from behind to support me.
“Your heart should have stopped already… How did you get up?”
Just like in his younger days, when he couldn't even hold the tip of a training sword steady and could only tremble.
You didn't laugh back then.
When Jin with his long rifle laughed, when Eltram laughed, when the other mercenaries all laughed heartily, you never did. Not once.
“Struggling is useless. No matter what you do, you can’t defeat me or my Yoniullan.”
With just those two hands.
You cupped my wrists and moved my knees and feet, kindly correcting my posture one step at a time. I thought you weren't smiling.
《Your hands have gotten bigger, too.》
But you were, just like now.
You were smiling on the inside.
《Haha.》
From the gentle warmth of that touch, the precise details were transmitted—how to extend the sword, how to swing it, and how to draw it back.
“Why are you fighting? Why do you fight even in death? Is there even a sliver of hope that you can win?”
The resulting stance was simply one with feet spread wide, lowering his center of gravity.
His upper body twisted sharply to the left, his left hand holding the sheath placed behind his back.
And his right hand resting upon the hilt.
Yes….
It was the basic stance for drawing the sword….
There was no flourish, no exaggeration.
It was a stance so simple it was plain, one that poured all heart and soul into a single motion… the drawing of the blade.
“I've never… once… fought… because I knew I could win….”
He answered with trembling lips.
Not to prove his own life, but to speak of the footsteps of the courageous pioneers he had witnessed.
“I fought because I had to… because I had to fight and win. That's all there is to it….”
If my master had been here.
If my seniors had been here.
If Seira or Isla had been here in my place, this is what they would have done.
“Because I… because we… are warriors….”
Epilogue to the Prologue,
Here Lies the Fake Warrior (5)
“Warrior? You?”
Watching Yoniullan split into 44 metal fragments in a rage, he held his breath and poured everything into this moment.
This is the last breath of my life.
This is the last swing of my life, the last draw of my life, the last flash of my life.
‘Master.’
Into one finger.
The laughter from the day he rolled in the grass with his mother.
‘Not even once…’
Into another finger.
The smile his master wore on that day of the long summer rain.
‘…I was always too embarrassed to say it out loud.’
Into another finger.
The scent of paper from the book Senior Roveris had given him, on that day in the mountains when the fragrance of peaches tickled his nose.
‘I…’
And into another finger.
The warmth of Isla's promise as she linked her pinky with his, smiling brightly.
Into the last finger.
Seira's voice as she held out her hand, saying, “We're not alone, are we?”
‘…Always.’
And into his left hand gripping the sheath, he poured all the bonds he had ever made….
The voices of his parents and sister, walking hand-in-hand as they watched the twilight horizon blanketed in shimmering water in his distant homeland.
The blood and corpses of Camilla, Wolf, Eltram, Jin, Setsunen, Sharon, and Ria from the siege of <Aristapo>, where the summer rain fell endlessly.
‘I wanted to be like you.’
The teachings and lessons from Head Instructor Ollier, Master Yoshyuhar, Seira, and Isla at the <Wiyonggeomjeon>.
Mirngadia of the Blue Star who came as a light in the battle for <Kerkunude>, and Roveris, Mern, Tval, Alidona, the Iron Cross, Halvaron, and Akirea of Crimson Flame in the Battle of the Red Mountains….
Pouring the lives of all those who had supported and carried him until now, all of it, onto this blade in this very moment.
“Severing Wish: Great Crimson Silk's Mist-Annihilating Slash.”
The strike had neither light nor sound.
In a sliver of time beyond the perception of the world, beyond the laws of the universe, a flower bloomed and withered.
It was the flower of steel scraping against wood as it rose, the flower that precisely severed the connection of flesh and blood, and the flower that faded as it scraped wood once more.
The world neither heard nor saw the blooming and falling of that flower.
A single flash in a cosmic countdown perceptible only to those who transcended the laws of the world.
That sword draw cut through the very principle of causality that imposed supernatural restrictions on all motion in the name of ‘speed.’
Half a beat later.
Detecting an anomaly in the equations that manifested the world's laws, causality hurriedly began to correct the error.
The swirling violet rupture that had been flying toward him split apart.
The blades that had been stirring those flames, splintered from the frame of the True Holy Sword Yoniullan, lost their momentum and scattered.
An opening was created.
And through that fleeting gap.
Ryukael's breastplate shattered, his skin was sliced, his muscles were severed, his bones were cut, and his heart exploded.
The only evidence of the slash was one.
The blade of Aradamanthel, scattering sparks of friction as it soared into the sky. A fragment of the Supreme Holy Sword, shattered, unable to withstand the durability of a True Holy Sword.
Flash.
It belatedly stained the heavens and earth red.
The flash of the sword draw that had cut the world.
Chaaaaang!
Later than the light, it made the mountains and rivers cry out.
The metallic clang of a fatal blow.
Clang.
Almost simultaneously with the clear chime of the broken blade's fragment striking the ground.
BOOOOOM!
A sonic boom erupted, and in the violent rampage of soundwaves, the world bled as it was split into upper and lower halves.
‘It wasn't that he failed to draw the sword.’
As he was swept up in the soundwaves, Ryukael blankly placed a hand on his chest.
‘He'd already swung and sheathed it? Not even Alkaios could—’
In that instant, his upper body vanished as if exploding under the pressure of the slash… and where the flesh had disappeared, the core of his soul was laid bare.
[Young Master!]
The blade of Sharrilion pierced the very center of that core, and the immortal power that had been rapidly restoring his body came to a halt.
“Ryukael……”
Tarsiyo's hand, gripping the hilt, trembled.
As the masterless Yoniullan was thrown to the collapsing ground, wailing mournfully, Sharrilion resonated in response.
Kaisen did not let the heart-wrenching grief consume his composure.
[Underground 5th floor stratum division confirmed. All facilities, including the control room, have been destroyed. You must evacuate immediately.]
Did those words feel like passing the final post of his mission?
Thud. Kaisen's knees buckled.
Into the void left by his fading transcendent power, the worms of the Abyss swarmed in as if they had been waiting, skittering and crawling.
[…What? Your Excellency Setsunen, the portal is closing…!]
[…We’re saved! We’re saved! Your Excellency, the frost monsters are being sucked into the closing gate! It’s a miracle…!]
[…It’s not a miracle! Those two have done it again…!]
The earth was vibrating.
The severed lower levels of the facility were collapsing, spewing electrical currents from all sides.
It was only natural, as it could no longer bear the weight of the upper section, which was tilting and sliding.
[Kaisen, the transition field can't reach inside the ruins. Kaisen, are you coming out now? Answer me, my beloved child… Are you alright? Is Lady Tarsiyo safe?]
It's strange.
My body is rotting away, turning black.
My consciousness, my soul, is being eroded and is collapsing into darkness, and yet… I can see your light so clearly.
“Kaisen.”
Even amidst the violent tremors of this collapse, I can clearly feel the warmth of your touch on my forehead.
[Young Master, his vital signs have already….]
Tarsiyo… are you okay?
What expression are you making right now?
What are you doing, not leaving quickly?
[…His heart stopped two minutes ago, and his brainwaves will soon cease. It's a miracle he's moved at all.]
Now, in this final moment of my life where I cannot even speak, I finally understand the hearts of those who died before me.
That knowledge was painful and sad.
I'm worried. I worry if this person, left all alone, will be able to fight on, if they will cry, if they will collapse from sorrow.
“You know, I actually knew it would come to this. That's why I hoped this moment would come as late as possible….”
Now I understand. This is why everyone died with a smile.
Upon that final smile.
To contain the words they had no strength or time to say.
“My father told me. That if I were to wield Sharrilion, I would fall in love with a man.”
Tarsiyo, you know.
If, by chance, we meet again up there, will you be the first one to talk to me?
“And you know what else? He said I would die for that man, sending him to where my father is.”
I'm very shy.
And I'm afraid that an old man like you won't remember me.
“My mother had a special power to transfer another's Abyss into her own body. I inherited a little of that power. And I think… no, I'm sure… it was for this very moment.”
I’m finished—
“—It's not the end.”
Something… something sorrowfully warm, yes, the stirring of life, spreads throughout my body.
On the contrary, something was flowing out.
The cold, sludgy thing—the death of the flesh, the Abyss devouring his soul—was leaving through the same path it entered.
“Your story is just beginning.”
My eyelids, which had been heavier to lift than a massive gate, slowly rose.
My eyes opened, and light poured in.
Tarsiyo was moving my hand, placing it on the hilt of the True Holy Sword Sharrilion.
“Go on, Kaisen. I'll go ahead and wait for you.”
That was the last smile I ever saw from you.
Before the Abyss swallowed you, covering your entire body in a dark, bruised blue.
The clearest and most beautiful smile I had ever seen.
“Don't you go cheating on me on your way, okay?”
Yes, that was surely it.
The smile that completed the premonition of a sad fate… one I had vaguely felt since the moment I first met you.
“I'm sorry I couldn't keep our promise to go on a trip.”
Those last words completely shattered my heart.
And yet.
No, precisely because of that.
I was able to answer with a smile formed by barely pulling up the corners of my lips, a smile made to suppress a sob.
“Hey, you idiot, you can't just say the words I was supposed to say….”
The light of the True Holy Sword Sharrilion reached its zenith, and a bizarre string of characters unfolded before my eyes.
[Assessing compatibility….]
And I fall.
Into the war between the Lords of Light and the ancient kings that was said to have taken place on this land, long, long ago.
[Compatibility assessment complete: 1377%.]
[Eldia Omek(06) Project initiated.]