Chapter 157
Chapter 157
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 157
Chapter Title: 65. The Flower Bloomed by Death (2)
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Having burned away their slime masks, Yuri's group pulled their hoods low as they entered Joachim's royal castle.
Joachim was in a festive mood, having repelled the continental invasion.
Weaving through the crowds cheering "Long live!", Yuri grumbled.
"Do we really have to see that?"
"Of course."
Yuri just wanted to head back to Brioll, but Hose had thrown a fit about wanting to see the statue erected in the center of the castle, forcing them to turn back.
Hose grinned.
"It's a statue of us, right?"
"Not us—Hopper and the three sworn brothers."
"That's us."
"No one knows that."
"We know!"
"Fine..."
With that, they arrived at the entrance to the plaza where the statue stood. Hose said,
"I'm looking forward to it. I wonder how magnificently they've depicted us..."
Jared nodded in agreement.
"Now that we're actually about to see it, I'm nervous."
"Right?"
Inariel stood off to the side, arms crossed in a sullen pose.
"I have no interest in seeing it."
"Why not?"
"Sculpting you lot? How ridiculous."
"It's actually pretty cool, though."
"Not at all..."
A crowd had already gathered in the middle of the plaza. Through them, the vague shape of a gray mass could be glimpsed.
"That's it."
"Yeah."
Hose and Jared rushed forward.
Rolang said nothing, but he quickened his pace subtly.
Left alone, Yuri sighed and walked toward the statue.
"I've got a bad feeling about this..."
As they drew closer, the statue's form came into sharp focus.
Yuri hung his head and burst out laughing.
"Pfft..."
He couldn't even look up.
"What the hell is that?"
Hose stared with wide eyes in disbelief, while Jared collapsed to the ground.
"That's supposed to be us...?"
The statue was atrocious.
It bore no resemblance to their real appearances.
It looked like they'd just bulked up the figures and slapped random faces on them.
Row and Jabid at least had a similar vibe thanks to their beards, but Hopper and Yubi—with no such defining traits—looked like complete strangers.
All four sported fierce expressions that somehow came off as comically grotesque.
Hose muttered in despair.
"Unbelievable. Our mythic struggle reduced to this caricature..."
Yuri snickered.
"The war just ended. They whipped this up overnight—what did you expect? The sculptor probably had no idea what you looked like."
"No way..."
"It's an insult. An outrage..."
Regaining his composure, Rolang stood beside Yuri, nodding as if he hadn't expected much anyway.
"Disappointing, but what can you do."
The subjects were let down, but the citizens' reactions were another story.
People prayed before the statue and left flowers at its base.
"Three Sworn Brothers, please let me pass my exam..."
"Hopper, please bless our family business..."
"May my child be born with virtue like Yubi..."
Their wishes varied wildly.
Some seemed a bit much even for the righteous rebels, but prayer was prayer, so Yuri tuned it out.
Then someone spoke up.
"Here to pray as well?"
A man with thick, curly yellow hair stood beside Yuri and struck up a conversation.
"Ah, yeah. And you?"
"I'm the sculptor who made this statue."
"Really?"
"Yes."
He pointed at the statue with a grin.
Then he said something odd.
"Pray to this statue. Your wish will come true."
Yuri eyed the sculptor.
The statue was already dubious enough—now praying to it? Suspicious as hell.
Looked like a con artist.
Yuri glanced at Hose, whose face was twitching faintly.
One wrong move and someone might end up dead, so Yuri laughed to lighten the mood.
"Haha, pray to a statue and it'll come true? Seriously?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
The sculptor nodded earnestly, even clasping his hands together.
"The more you pray, the closer you get to your goal."
"What's your basis for saying that? They're heroes, not gods."
"You don't believe me? Heh, then let me share a secret about them."
"A secret?"
"Yes. I know the truth about those four."
Not just Yuri—the whole group turned to the sculptor.
Did he know about the slime masks?
Everyone watched his mouth intently.
Inariel, meanwhile, ignored the whole thing.
Yuri asked,
"What's this truth?"
"It's this."
The sculptor placed a hand on his chest.
"They're not heroes."
Yuri's group stared at him stone-faced.
"Murder to silence..."
Jared muttered under his breath, only for Rolang to clamp his mouth shut.
In a trembling voice, Yuri asked,
"I-if not heroes, then what?"
"Their true identity is..."
Everyone tensed, waiting.
The sculptor declared,
"Humans."
An anticlimactic punchline.
The tension broke, shoulders shaking with laughter from all four.
Yuri retorted,
"Humans or elves, you mean?"
Inariel shot him a look, but he ignored it.
The sculptor laughed.
"Hahaha, no—that they were ordinary humans. But despite being human, they became more than human. Heroes, as we call them."
"You just said they weren't heroes."
"Just a figure of speech. They weren't born heroes—they became them. By relentlessly pursuing their goals, shedding blood, sweat, and tears every day."
It was true. Yuri's group's expressions softened.
The sculptor's voice gained strength.
"So where do you think that effort and perseverance came from?"
"Where?"
"Right here."
He pointed to his chest.
"From the heart."
"The heart?"
"They wished every day to grow stronger to protect Joachim. That power of desire is immense—enough to change the world. Look—they changed Joachim, didn't they?"
Yuri was moved by the sculptor's words.
Swap Joachim for Brioll, and it fit him perfectly.
He'd reached his current level through bone-grinding effort and recently even defeated Yalta, one of the Ten Strong.
All thanks to desire and hard work.
"So prayer is..."
"Exactly."
The sculptor spread his arms.
"If you pray daily with that burning desire, won't you naturally move toward your goal?"
"Ahh..."
"I'm not denying their achievements. Just follow in their footsteps—give your all every moment, like they did."
"That's why you tell people to pray."
"Yes. And through prayer, we'll discover what we truly want."
Initial resentment toward the sculptor flipped to admiration after his explanation.
He understood them better than anyone.
The sculptor smiled at Yuri.
"That's why I made that statue—with that spirit. Of your four heroes."
"Hold on, a question."
Jared, still not fully satisfied, spoke up.
"The faces look a bit off. Are those really their faces? Or did you make them up?"
"Well..."
The sculptor smiled.
"Yes, you're right. Those aren't the actual faces of the four heroes."
"Then you made the statue without knowing what they looked like? Isn't that disrespectful?"
"Maybe. But those faces were intentional."
"Intentional?"
"I collected faces of native Joachimites and derived the most average features."
It made sense now. The four faces on the statue were utterly ordinary, the kind you see anywhere on the street.
"Instead of depicting them accurately, I chose everyday faces to show that anyone—even ordinary folk—can become a hero with true effort."
The deeper he chewed on it, the more profound it became.
Even Jared's expression softened.
Yuri said,
"Mr. Sculptor."
"Yes."
"Let's shake on it."
"Haha, gladly."
They clasped hands. Yuri said,
"You surprised me. It's a statue of profound meaning."
"I'm flattered."
"May I have your name?"
"I'm With. Just a humble sculptor. Hahaha..."
"With."
Yuri committed the name to memory.
"I hope to see your statues all over Joachim."
"I'd like that."
"It will happen."
Yuri planned to elevate With as Joachim's premier sculptor.
Sponsor him through the Ireine Merchant Guild, display his philosophy-laden statues throughout the city's landmarks.
"For Joachim's future."
They'd won this war, but Joachim's path ahead was thorny.
The empire wouldn't back off after losing troops.
Its people needed hope, like this statue provided.
With's sculpture of the "dead" four heroes would instill pride and patriotism in Joachimites.
"Look over there."
With suddenly pointed behind them.
"Huh?"
Familiar figures approached.
The second batch of knight trainees, fresh from guerrilla training in Brioll, were returning to the castle.
Ragged as beggars, but their eyes burned fierce.
"A new unit that finished training. They say it's a special force like the Alloy Brigade."
"I see."
"With young folks like that, I believe Joachim will never fall. Because everyone's a hero."
"Well said."
This time, the sudden invasion forced guerrilla warfare right outside the castle, but next time would be different.
The Alloy Brigade camped across the surrounding forests. Who knew where their arrows and traps lay in wait?
The empire now had a pesky foe at its bedside.
"Well then, shall we all make a wish together?"
"Sure."
Yuri's group clasped hands with the sculptor and began praying.
They weren't alone.
Countless Joachimites joined them.
The "death" of the disguised four heroes was becoming a wind heralding a new era and a symbol of patriotism for Joachim.
If the "deaths" of Hopper and the three sworn brothers—crafted by Yuri's group—united the people of Joachim, then the deaths of Yalta and Graham were tearing the empire apart.
"Yalta's dead... Yalta's dead..."
Emperor Ivar sat on his throne, huddled under a blanket, trembling.
He'd recovered much from the poison, but the aftereffects left him shaking constantly, his personality drastically altered.
He muttered endlessly.
"What to do about Joachim... Those arrogant scum must die. But Yalta's gone... Yalta..."
A servant announced a visitor.
Crown Prince Yugen.
He approached Ivar, bowed, and spoke.
"Your Majesty. I've deployed troops to the Joachim border. Ready to march on your word."
"But Yalta's dead."
"Yalta was just one card in our hand. Not that valuable."
"Hmm..."
"If we let this slide, the empire's prestige will plummet. We must punish Joachim swiftly."
"Yes... right?"
Ivar stared blankly, lost in thought.
Yugen pressed.
"Give the order, and this time far more troops will deploy than before. The knight orders will drag Joachim's king to his knees."
"Hmm..."
"Your Majesty?"
"Why did Yalta and Graham fight?"
"Impossible to say."
Ivar clutched his head.
"Graham..."
Yugen said,
"Sending Graham as commander was a mistake. He's a fine knight, but too rigid..."
"Enough."
Ivar cut him off.
"Leave me. I want to be alone."
Yugen looked up at Ivar briefly, then nodded.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
He withdrew.
Alone, Ivar curled tighter under the blanket, muttering to himself.
"Hmm. On second thought... maybe the poison wasn't from Joachim, but another kingdom?"