< 132. His Legacy >
He opened his eyes.
The thick steam made it hard to see ahead.
Am I alive?
He was.
"Urghhh…"
The excruciating pain radiating from his right shoulder proved it. Pain was, after all, the surest sign of life.
"…Haha."
Daphne let out a hollow laugh.
There was his bow, right in front of him. The one specially commissioned from the craftsmen of the Berft Kingdom. It had suffered severe damage from the intense heat, but it wasn't completely shattered.
But the hand that should have been holding and firing it was gone.
Evaporated, literally.
From his fingers to his shoulder. His right fingers, hand, wrist, arm, and shoulder had all melted away.
His mind went blank with agony. But he endured.
He was alive for now, but he had no idea how the situation had progressed or how long he'd been unconscious.
The silver lining was the steam from the clash of water and fire forming a fog that concealed him.
'I have to find them.'
Driven by an extreme survival instinct, Daphne's mind raced.
The Four Heavenly Kings were hell-bent on killing him because he'd seen the tower. If he died, the tower's location would be buried again.
So what if he escalated things entirely?
What if he spread the word to every search party, making total annihilation the only option for them?
'No way they could do that!'
They weren't like him—a Star hero. The group included an imperial prince and a kingdom's crown prince. Especially the Jespain Empire's third prince, Martin, who lagged behind other royals but was still closely tied to the throne's succession.
'Why was the third prince with the search party?'
He'd spotted him while fleeing. He didn't know why, but it was good news for Daphne.
Daphne began moving through the fog.
Luckily, he soon spotted a group.
"Your Highness!"
Fortune favored him. The prince of Korzen wasn't far, and his guards were with him.
"Lord Daphne! Your arm…!"
"That's not important right now. Your Highness, I've found the tower!"
"…The tower?"
"Is that true?"
"Yes!"
Daphne handed him the Record Orb.
"It's in a basin about 5 km north of the highest peak. Surrounded by ridges, it's perfectly hidden—ideal for concealing a tower."
It was no wonder those who'd only checked the summits had missed it.
"You must keep this safe."
He'd made copies as a precaution the moment he recorded it, but one never knew. He vowed to distribute one to everyone he met.
"Of course. I won't lose it. But first, your wound…"
"I'm fine. I'll go find Prince Martin. Please inform the other search parties of this."
"What do you…"
…mean?
Belov's words didn't reach him. Daphne had already vanished.
He slipped from the prince's sight in an instant, plunging into the fog and straining his senses desperately.
'Hurry… the prince…'
Find the third prince. Tell him, and attention would scatter.
But his body wouldn't cooperate as he hoped.
'What's this…?'
His body suddenly felt heavy.
'Am I just exhausted…?'
No, maybe blood loss—too much already shed, still shedding.
'…Dizzy.'
Exhaustion and blood loss making his head spin? He forced himself upright.
That was when it happened.
- You look exhausted.
A voice echoed. He checked around—nothing. Even extending his senses detected no one.
'Hallucination?'
No, too clear for that.
"…Who are you."
- Who do you think?
The voice sounded familiar.
"…Dark Spirit Summoner."
- I'm glad. You remember my name.
Damn that Four Heavenly King.
Daphne gritted his teeth and ran. He had to find someone. But no matter how much he ran and ran, no signs of life.
His arm and legs grew heavier. Breath caught, head throbbed. When it peaked, Daphne was rolling on the ground. Dirt and snow filled his mouth.
"What the…"
Only then did he notice the steam clinging to his remaining arm and legs like shackles, dragging him down.
"Since when…?"
"Who knows? Since when, I wonder?"
The voice no longer echoed—it came from right beside him.
From the fog emerged the masked Dark Spirit Summoner, peering out.
"From the moment you started wandering."
She whispered.
"It seeped into you very slowly. You didn't notice, probably because of your injury."
"You bitch…!"
"Don't get excited. It'll make you bleed more. That'll just hurt worse."
"Shut up!"
"It's a shame we had to meet like this."
To Ernan Hildean, Daphne wasn't close. Her connection to him was through her father, at most.
They'd met a few times, and he'd always treated her kindly, knowing his feelings then.
But all relationships had priorities. Less important, more important.
Berge came before Daphne. That was all.
"Lord Daphne."
She approached slowly.
Daphne backed away. Tried to swing. But the fog-bound limbs wouldn't allow even that.
The distance closed.
His heart pounded like it would burst.
What to do?
How?
How to survive?
No strength to resist. Still, he wanted to live. He racked his brain for a way.
That moment.
"Lord Daphne."
The voice whispered again.
Their eyes met.
The world slowed.
'……'
Those sparkling amethyst eyes.
Platinum hair shimmering in the fog.
Innocent tone.
Why?
Impossible, absolutely not, his mind screamed no, but why.
The worst assumption flashed through his mind.
His pupils shook. The Dark Spirit Summoner noticed.
"…You."
She smiled pityingly.
"You recognized me?"
"…Really."
"Yes."
"…Why?"
"You wouldn't understand even if I told you."
"No one would. Not a soul."
Hearing confirmation oddly calmed him. Or was it calm? Just that his cognition couldn't process it, leaving no response.
Thud—
Something caught his back. A foot.
"Lord Daphne?"
From the fog, Hillun Kargil approached. Daphne brightened.
"Lord Hillun!"
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. More importantly, that Four Heavenly King…"
"Four Heavenly King?"
"The Four Heavenly King…"
Words failed. Even seeing, confirming—it was unbelievable. Too far from his common sense.
But Hillun completed the silence.
"Even if the Four Heavenly King is Crown Princess Ernan Hildean of Hildean?"
"Yes…"
Wait.
"How did you…?"
"Who knows how I know?"
"…What do you mean?"
"Are you sure no one can see through it?"
Hillun's gaze wasn't on Daphne. It passed him to the Four Heavenly King, Dark Spirit Summoner—Ernan Hildean.
"A few might pierce it, but none around now."
"…No way?"
A worse assumption than the worst arose.
No way.
"…You."
"Why do you call?"
His calm smile chilled the spine further.
No way.
Really no way.
Faint killing intent turned assumption to certainty.
"…Humanity."
"Correct."
His heart sank.
"…Aren't you the hero who slew two Demon Kings? With everything promised to you, why side with the Demon King?"
"I never expected this either."
But here we are.
"Don't feel too hard done by."
Everyone has circumstances.
"You've run this far to live. I'm just struggling to survive too."
"Send me off painlessly."
Ernan murmured. Her final courtesy to Daphne Philian.
"Should I be grateful?"
Daphne let out a feeble laugh at her consideration.
Not from amusement or joy. Resignation. No path to life left—pure desperation.
A kidnapped princess and the man worthy of greatest hero betrayed humanity for the Demon King.
"Hillon Kargil. You'll pay one day. Think you can cover the sky with fingers?"
"Not fingers, so yes."
Demon Kings couldn't be felled by mere fingers.
"I'll watch how far that confidence goes."
"Sadly, you won't see it."
Daphne closed his eyes.
Slash—
A single line traced.
Exhausted from flight, massive injury, blood loss—Daphne couldn't resist. Didn't try.
He just glared wide-eyed at humanity's betrayer, a hollow smile on his lips.
His kind face twisted. The screen spun. A mask appeared. Pale skin, platinum hair, mask and innocent eyes.
The world spun.
He breathed cold air. Captured the spirit smiling behind the woman.
Scattering red blood droplets were beautiful. White world neared.
Splat—
First heat, then chill. Fishy taste, pushed by cold at his lips.
Eyelids heavy. Shadow fell over blurring vision.
Something collapsed. Hot red flow covered his face.
Ah.
Too late, realized it was his body.
Neck severed.
That was the end.
Unable to fully close his eyes, his soul fled the flesh.
One star that lit the darkness fell.
* * *
Crackle—
The artificial fog lifted.
"It's clearing!"
"The mages dispelled the mist!"
Through snow melted to water, barren earth and a massive crater revealed themselves.
Filled with red water and flesh. Blood and corpses.
"…My god."
Survivors gasped at the devastation.
Not from demon fire. Nor crater's aftermath.
Half-burnt corpses.
Neck-ripped traces.
Because it was a great Star.
Daphne Philian.
One of the ten Stars representing heroes had fallen.
Princes, knights, mages, rangers. Survivors unanimously fell silent.
They quietly recovered bodies, treated wounded.
Princes watched, spitting resentment.
"…What will you do?"
"……"
Martin bit his lip.
The demon spewing flames was a Demon King. The Demon King himself killed Daphne Philian.
Why?
Why personally?
'A warning to me?'
Felt like pressure to keep promises. Roaring he could emerge anytime, defying canon.
And the Star hiding among search parties who killed Daphne, that terrifying blaze—same.
'Killed Daphne Philian. Killing someone like me is easy?'
Maybe a warning to stop searching and go home.
"I think we should retreat."
As he pondered, Belov spoke first.
"Casualties are heavy. And Daphne's death has crushed morale."
The shock of his death.
Terror of the high demon that slew him.
Both enveloped the search party.
Daphne dead—us next?
High demon that strong—how face Demon King?
"His sacrifice is tragic, but that's why we must withdraw. Regroup, report their power. Infuriating, but this search failed."
"But."
"If Your Highness won't go, I will. Pushing now just adds meaningless losses."
"…Understood."
Martin nodded reluctantly.
He'd considered retreat too—no reason to refuse when suggested.
"And truthfully."
Belov's voice lowered.
"……?"
"…We've completed our mission."
"What do you mean?"
Belov produced the Record Orb.
"This holds the tower's location. We found it."
"…How?"
Martin's voice hushed instinctively.
"Lord Daphne gave it to me before dying."
"…My god."
"I can give it to Your Highness. But not for free."
"……"
Belov pondered briefly.
How to use this massive info on tower location.
Monopolizing wasn't right. Could highlight imperial incompetence and their competence, but that meant clashing with the Empire—worst move.
"Who discovered it matters greatly to Your Highness. Given the Empire's state."
"A deal?"
"Yes."
So he pivoted. Credit to share anyway—with him beside. Better to take some shine, build ties.
Third prince weaker than first/second or eldest princess, but still top imperial fingers.
"I'll support Your Highness."
So.
"Please support me too."
For mutual gain.