Chapter 130: Qualification (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 130: Qualification (1)
Silence descended upon the area. It was a low, heavy hush fitting for a graveyard.
Sshhh.
The undead, who had swarmed like a colony of ants, crumbled into dust one by one, entering their eternal rest.
Naturally, Mikellan was among them. He lowered his gaze to look at his palms. Starting from his fingertips, he was turning into dust and scattering into the air.
"Haha..."
A serene smile played on Mikellan's lips. His body was crumbling away. He had less than a few minutes left on this earth.
Yet, there was not a single shred of regret in his heart. Feeling only a sense of liberation, Mikellan closed his eyes. It was then—
"Uncle Mikellan!"
Abel called out to him, her voice laced with urgency. Her eyes were rimmed with red.
At her cry, Mikellan gave a gentle, easygoing smile and replied, "Descendant of the Sword Saint, please do not make such a face. This old soul has lived for a whopping seven hundred years. This is the peaceful end I have always wished for, so I would like you to send me off with a smile."
"...B-but still."
Abel scrunched up her nose, trying her best not to cry. Though they had only known each other for a few hours, Mikellan had been a great source of support.
Even just a moment ago, when she was half out of her mind, Mikellan had gently comforted her. Though he was nothing but a moving corpse, he was a man more human than anyone else.
Now, that very man was turning into a handful of dust. He was bidding her farewell with a bright, peaceful smile.
Mikellan continued in a calm, soothing voice, "You only need to grieve for your father, young descendant."
Abel watched her father's twilight moments. For a fleeting second, her eyes met his.
A gentle, crescent-shaped smile in his eyes. With that final look, her father dissolved into dust. Dazzling sunlight poured down upon the spot where he had lain.
Abel wiped away her flowing tears. Her father's smile was the ultimate reward for the wish she had harbored since she was seven years old.
Though she hadn't found her mother, she was sure her mother was resting in peace alongside her father.
Rather than mourning, Abel wanted to show them how much she had grown.
"..."
Meanwhile, Mikellan stared up at the collapsing tower. A boy stood there, his back turned to them. His black hair fluttered slowly in the wind.
Kang Geomma was an anomalous boy.
His tone and attitude were somewhat stiff. His gaze was cynical, and his hand was merciless.
Moreover, after wielding his sword like a demon, he had immediately manifested an aura.
Even to Mikellan, who had lived several times longer than ordinary people, it was a shock fresher than anything he had ever experienced.
'Black hair and black eyes...'
Mikellan pondered Kang Geomma's physical traits. As half of his arm dissolved into the air, he continuously searched his memories.
The memory was right on the tip of his tongue... Mikellan, possessing an extraordinary intellectual curiosity, felt that leaving things like this would result in a nagging, unsatisfying end—his sole remaining regret.
Mikellan's brows furrowed into a straight line. Submerged in the past, he calmly sifted through his life's flashing memories.
"...!"
Then, a fragment of memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.
It was an event from seven hundred years ago. Around the time he had coincidentally met Lady Aaron Nibelung through a cousin's friend.
Since he had been quite eloquent during his lifetime, he had shared various conversations with her.
For someone so beloved by the sword, Lady Aaron possessed an incredibly down-to-earth personality.
Furthermore, her golden eyes, which sparkled like stars, held a captivating charm that drew people in. She was a woman who commanded attention in everything she did, much like her descendant, Abel.
Every single word she spoke brimmed with vitality, and everything about her captured people's attention.
Her voice was always filled with conviction and compassion.
In particular, the image of her speaking about her master, the Hero of the Origin, Lord Balor Joaquin, remained vivid in his mind.
* * *
"Mikellan, did you know? People look at my master as this incredible figure, but honestly, most of it is a sham."
Aaron had casually tossed those words out while tending to a campfire. Mikellan had been utterly appalled by her remark.
"M-My Lady! Even if you are the Sword Saint, speaking so slanderously of the Hero of the Origin will surely bring divine punishment upon you!"
"Hahaha! It's only because people put him on such a high pedestal. Master is just a human, too. In fact, in other areas, should I say he's a bit of a dummy? Anyway, a peculiar yet foolish person—that description fits him perfectly."
"..."
Poking at the fire with a poker, Aaron giggled. A wide smile spread across her face, as if she found the thought incredibly amusing. Mikellan could only keep his mouth shut.
"But honestly, despite what I say, I can't deny that the old man is something else. How should I put it? His appearance and vibe are completely different from everyone else... Sometimes, it really feels like he just dropped out of another world."
"Forgive my presumption, but how exactly is the Hero of the Origin different? Since he rarely shows himself to the public... I worry I might commit the discourtesy of failing to recognize him in the future."
"Ah, don't worry about that. You'll recognize him the moment you see him."
"...Pardon?"
Before continuing, Lady Aaron offered a bright smile. Gazing at the crackling sparks of the fire, she said:
"Black hair and black eyes. What do you think? You'd recognize him instantly, right? Oh, right. And you must keep it a secret that I talked smack about my master. Take it to your grave. Promise me! Seriously!"
* * *
"...Ha."
A hollow gasp escaped from between Mikellan's teeth. Perhaps it was a fabricated memory.
He wondered if his judgment had deteriorated over the vast stretch of time. Yet, what was this gooseflesh breaking out all over his arms?
Just then, Kang Geomma leaped down from the top of the tower. Landing lightly on the ground, he began to stride forward.
Step, step.
Mikellan reached out his one remaining hand. But even that arm was rapidly turning to ash, its form becoming translucent. Even the outline of his body was blurring like mist.
He wouldn't be able to last until the boy reached him. Mikellan let out a bitter smile, letting go of his lingering regrets.
Simply being part of this moment was pride enough. It was an honor that few would ever have the privilege to experience.
Shail, who had been watching the scene from the side, asked him, "Do you have something you wish to say to Lord Geomma?"
Though Shail had insisted on subjugating Mikellan when they first met, her expression was now solemn as well.
Mikellan pondered for a brief moment. But soon, he shook his head. "No, I do not."
"..."
It was a resolute reply.
As his vision grew hazy, Mikellan let out a hearty laugh. "I promised someone I know that I would take it to my grave. Just pass on my thanks to him."
"Uncle!" Abel cried out in surprise.
Mikellan offered her a bright, clear smile.
"I leave the future in your hands."
* * *
Immediately after escaping the Undead Dungeon, we headed straight to our lodgings.
"..."
"..."
"..."
A heavy silence hung inside the taxi heading to the hotel. The driver read our expressions through the rearview mirror and silently stepped on the accelerator.
Upon arriving at our room, I collapsed onto the bed as if passing out.
We had achieved a tremendous feat on this journey. Not only did we obtain the Immortal Magic Stone, which was our original objective, but we also suffered zero casualties.
Shail had only sustained a few minor scrapes. She said she'd be fine after applying a few pain relief patches.
I'm a bit worried, but if she says so.
On the other hand, Abel looked visibly exhausted. In the taxi, she had done nothing but stare blankly out the window. Her body seemed fine, but her mind was clearly a tangled mess.
My joints ached from the after-pain of the [Blessing of the Sword God]. Still, on the outside, I looked perfectly fine without a single scratch.
Thanks to the pain reduction rate, I fortunately avoided a trip to the hospital. Honestly, though I managed to escape being hospitalized, my body was completely exhausted.
Activating the Blessing again anytime soon was out of the question. If I did, I really would end up bedridden in a hospital for five days. Smelling medicine all day after traveling all this way to a foreign country?
Just the thought of it made me frown.
"Sigh."
For some reason, my chest felt tight, as if a thorn were lodged in my throat. I lay down, cradling my head with my arms.
I stared blankly at the ceiling for a long while.
"..."
I debated falling straight to sleep, but instead, I pulled out the magic stone I had secured. Holding it between my fingers, I tilted it back and forth under the dim light.
The chunk of stone emitted a seductive glow. To call it a gem, its finish was far too crude.
"To think a mere pebble like this caused so many people..."
The events of just a few hours ago flashed through my mind. Countless dead souls had suffered for hundreds of years because of this hand-sized magic stone.
Even the Lich King Draugr had been a victim of this cursed magic stone... In truth, this tiny stone was the real culprit.
"If I had it my way, I'd crunch and chew it to pieces."
Clicking my tongue, I slipped the magic stone back into my pocket. Earlier, the status window had clearly stated—
'A pure gem from which the resentment of the dead has been cleared.'
Since it said that, even if it felt ominous, it wouldn't leak magic power like before.
If it showed even the slightest sign of doing so, I intended to smash it to pieces on the spot.
No matter how tempting armament reinforcement—or more precisely, 'granting special abilities'—was, taking on unnecessary risks was foolish.
Still, putting that aside, I was curious about what kind of additional ability it would grant. Once vacation was over, I wondered what kind of face Wieland would make when I brought it to him.
He'd probably stare with eyes twice their normal size and grill me with questions like, "Where on earth did you get this?" I'd just tell him I picked it up on the way.
He clearly seemed like a loose-lipped middle-aged guy, so I had no desire to recklessly reveal its origin.
Besides, I had learned a bit of diplomacy today while persuading Shail: be shameless. When I pushed forward relentlessly, she had merely parted her lips before giving up.
'I can keep explanations to a minimum in the future, too. Once they see the results, they're bound to shut up.'
As I stared at the ceiling, I suddenly muttered, "I wonder if Abel is doing okay."
Her expression had been particularly grim. Then again, her father had turned into a bizarre magical beast before vanishing completely.
For Abel, she had only achieved the minor goal of witnessing her father's end. She hadn't truly accomplished anything ultimate.
On top of that, I was the one who had cut down her father. In a way, she had every right to hate me. Yet, Abel hadn't shown even a hint of resentment.
Instead, she had thanked me. She said she was truly grateful that I had granted her request. Her choked voice still echoed in my ears.
How much must Abel have steeled her heart to utter those words? It was a superhuman level of self-control that made me wonder if she was really a teenager like me.
Even her father had closed his eyes without leaving any final words, fearing they might have an unnecessary influence on her.
Like grandfather, like father, like daughter, I suppose... I realized once again that the Nibelung family lineage was truly extraordinary.
'Maybe I should have made up a few words to pass on to her.'
But that thought lasted only a split second. I immediately shook my head to dismiss it. Her father was the one who must have yearned for it more than anyone.
Yet, he had held his tongue until the very end, wishing for his daughter to grow even stronger.
And for me to butt in with fabricated words? That would be betraying his final wishes.
Having sorted out my thoughts, I pushed myself up. A lingering pain, like needles pricking my entire body, coursed through me.
Still, I managed to drag myself over to sit on the windowsill. We were scheduled to return to Switzerland early tomorrow morning.
Originally, we had planned to stay for a few more days, but we decided to head back immediately. There would be no better place than home for Abel to gather her thoughts.
So, this was our last night in Lyon, France. I gazed out at the city landscape with quiet eyes.
The sunset faded. A faint darkness began to settle over the city.
Below, people and cars moved about busily. Colorful lights began to flicker on across the street signs.
A scene of utter peace. To achieve this, humanity had fought against the demons seven hundred years ago. Today, I had seen them with my own eyes.
This was the world they had protected by shedding countless drops of blood. Yet, an even greater catastrophe was scheduled to arrive in three years.
Today, I had received an unspoken plea from them—to protect this world they had passed down.
I scratched my cheek.
"But didn't they get the wrong address? The Hero is Leon."
Ending my monologue, I stepped down from the windowsill. My shoulders felt inexplicably heavy.