Chapter 157
Chapter 157
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 157
Chapter Title: The Night is Deep
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*
The rain had stopped, and the festival kicked off again. Now mages were shooting fireworks into the sky, and drunken elves staggered about, bursting into sporadic laughter as they bumped into each other.
Fernandez walked through the crowds. It was a raucous celebration, but understandable. The Gaimeirn clan had wandered hopelessly for a year before finding a new home, and the Maleyrn clan had finally gained freedom after centuries of being dragged off as sacrifices to their king from time to time.
Fortunately, most of the elves either didn't recognize him or were too drunk to approach even if they did. Fernandez hurried toward the inner keep, to Leia's office.
*
*Knock knock.*
"Come in."
Pushing open the door adorned with ornate engravings, he saw Leia standing before a table cluttered with massive sundials, compasses, and the like. She held a glass of amber liquor in one hand, gazing at the table.
Leia glanced at Fernandez as he entered and poured some liquor into a crystal glass, handing it to him.
"My people were all too happy to share their booze. Being queen isn't half bad."
"I couldn't do it even if I wanted to."
"Heh heh, would the throne even catch your eye? Drink up. The feast is in full swing—you should enjoy it too, no?"
Leia laughed as she walked to the reception area. She stretched out long on the purple velvet sofa, propping her legs up on the wooden table with a sigh.
"Court etiquette and all that crap is so tiresome. It's been a thousand years since we all became sailors, and there are still traditionalists hanging around."
"Even without traditions, it's hardly a dignified sight."
"Aren't you older than me? Friend, let's not talk like those old fogeys."
Leia sipped her drink and gazed at the fireworks exploding outside the window. Each burst of colorful lights painted the room in vibrant hues.
"Nice season. This winter will be mild."
"Congratulations on the victory."
"Would it have been possible without you? Meeting you that day in that little wasteland village was a great blessing for me and my people."
Leia turned her head to look at Fernandez. In the room bathed in the soft glow of flickering mana lamps, her expression—savoring the sticky, potent liquor rolling in her mouth—was bewitchingly seductive.
"So, I'll grant whatever you desire. Not the tribute I'm sending to the Church—just tell me what you want."
Leia's gaze boldly roamed over Fernandez from head to toe. She lowered her glass slightly and crossed her legs the other way on the table.
Fernandez ignored the carelessly slipping fabric of her clothes and met her eyes as he spoke.
"Take me north."
"Uh, that's tricky... What?"
"North. To the northerners' lands."
Leia looked flustered for a moment, then blushed and lowered her legs. She straightened her attire slightly and set her glass aside.
"Ah, right. You talked with that outsider. Business up north? Care to tell me?"
"Signs of an archdemon have been detected in the north. Not enough data to confirm it's the one, but there's definitely a demon behind it. And I'm a demon hunter."
"Can you trust what that outsider said? Something about a deal with the Maleyrn?"
"He supported the god hunt."
Fernandez rolled the glass in his hand as he spoke.
"Richter whispered to the Maleyrn about the Duke of the North Sea, Kian's abode, and the northerners taught the Maleyrn the spell to capture the sea god. They were indeed using the northerners' unique magic system. Seems they liked it."
"If they had a way to hunt gods, why didn't the northerners do it themselves?"
"Who knows—maybe restrictions, or the backlash was too strong. Plenty of reasons. And assassination by proxy leaves no loose ends if it succeeds. Killing Kian would incur Maclaren's wrath, so no need to take the risk themselves."
The Duke of the North Sea, Kian, was one of the many minor deities not enshrined in the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods. He slumbered in the depths of the North Sea, his divinity stolen by the Maleyrn's spell.
The reason the Maleyrn had lingered so long in that one region of the northern seas—the spell to capture Kian and steal his divinity—had been completed before they even arrived. The bastard strutted around, boasting with the stolen divinity, claiming "You're already defeated."
Fernandez found their sloppiness amusing. If they'd used the mana circuits in the flagship for a magic battle, the outcome might have been different. But intimidated by Fernandez's mana wedge that effortlessly shattered their magic, they'd made a poor move.
'To fully integrate another god's divinity into one's body takes an incredibly long time.'
Even the demon Munto, who hunted divinities, hadn't fully assimilated the fragments of the gods he'd devoured. The first one he'd swallowed, Kadan, still maintained its independence after a thousand years.
If even an archdemon couldn't manage it, it was nearly impossible for a mortal to gain divinity and awaken as a god in such a short time. If it were possible, the world would be overrun with petty gods.
"Did you hear why they helped the Maleyrn hunt the god?"
"The northern gods are being hunted by demons and their followers. They're offering that power to their master. So they wanted to strike first, helping the elf king before that demon gained enough strength."
"Gods and god hunts. Hah, nothing good comes from getting tangled in that."
The king of a race eternally banished from the continent for slaying her own god sighed with sad eyes. She looked at Fernandez and nodded.
"Alright. I'll take you north. Anything else you need?"
"Can you deliver this report to the Church?"
"Easy enough. We're docking at a nearby port to resupply anyway. I'll send it via messenger then. And we'll head straight north after."
Fernandez nodded briefly at Leia's words and downed his liquor in one gulp. The bitter, sticky spirits burned down his throat and seeped into his body, vanishing without a trace. No buzz came.
He glanced once at the fireworks outside, then set down his glass.
"Thanks for the drink."
"Sure. It's late. Get some rest. Enjoy the festival on your way out."
Leia nodded readily. Fernandez chuckled softly at her words and grasped the door handle.
*
Fernandez had drawn King Dane's sword and was wiping the blade with an oiled cloth. Ancient dwarven craftsmanship, the knight king's legacy, blessings and protection from the gods. The culmination of it all—this blade never dulled. But polishing the keen edge helped focus his mind.
King Dane's swordsmanship shredded space itself. A near-divine technique that manifested phenomena difficult even for magic, using mere swordplay.
After countless attempts, Fernandez realized it could only be performed with this sword. At the moment space was shredded, ordinary longswords would shatter blade and all.
As his cloth wiped away the dirt and dust from the blade, it suddenly stopped. There, etched in crooked ancient script, was the word "Dain." It meant "compassion."
[Always protect the weak. No matter your vow, show compassion to those who fall along your path.]
It was as if the king's voice echoed in his ear that day. Chivalry—the devotion of fools staking their lives on vague oaths and hollow honors. In his past life, he might have sneered at it.
He wouldn't follow the rigid chivalry of those stuffy knights, but Fernandez no longer mocked them. He didn't praise their nobility, but he no longer scorned them either.
*Knock knock.*
At that moment, a soft knock sounded. Fernandez paused mid-wipe, slowly sheathed the sword, and turned his head.
The door opened slowly, damp hair glistening. Abel stood there, looking at him.
"Here to return your sword."
Abel held out the greatsword cradled in her arms.
"Isn't this a holy relic of your Church? Too precious to be in a woman's hands."
Fernandez took the greatsword from her. In that instant, a tingling divinity flowed from the hilt into his veins. He glanced indifferently at the blade, then sheathed it and leaned it against the wall.
"Are you alright?"
"Thanks to you, perfectly fine. Now I understand why you told me not to turn into a dragon. Exhausting."
Abel smiled softly and approached the table. She picked up an overturned empty cup.
"Not planning to offer your guest some tea?"
Without a word, Fernandez poured tea into her cup and sat across from her. He needed to explain the upcoming journey anyway, and he was concerned about her condition. This worked out well.
"It's late—might not be suitable for a long chat."
"Dragons don't need sleep. And neither do you, right?"
Abel smiled softly and sipped her tea. Well, saving time wasn't bad. Fernandez unrolled a map across the table.
"I'm not heading back right away. It might be a long journey. I was going to explain tomorrow when Kirhas is here, but since you're here, the itinerary in brief..."
"No. Do whatever you want with that. That's not what I was curious about."
*Clatter.*
Abel swept the writing tools on the table to the floor with her arm. What was she doing? As Fernandez frowned, Abel leaned in close and whispered.
"Do you know? Dragons lay eggs. I've never done it, but that's what they say."
"...And?"
"So, doesn't it make you wonder what a dragon turned human would give birth to?"
"Have you been drinking?"
"I showered instead of drinking."
"Then have some liquor and get some rest."
"You're serious? Want a dragon to drink and get drunk?"
"No words for that."
Fernandez slowly leaned back. With a dragon's acute spatial sense, Abel closed exactly that distance.
Dragons don't rush. Their time is long and leisurely. The leisure unique to long-lived races.
"I said I wanted to place your constellation right beside mine. Remember?"
"Yes."
"You know what that means?"
The stars of the celestial sphere shine in their places even after eons. No being is truly immortal, but a star's lifespan is on a scale utterly alien to mortals.
Thus, wanting to be together beside constellations was perhaps the most romantic confession Abel could make. Fernandez closed his eyes.
-What are you agonizing over?
'You okay with this?'
-Hmm, honestly, I don't know. Chastity? Affection? Loyalty to Aria, that child? Hard to say... If I were you, I wouldn't embrace that woman. But Fernandez.
Feizashi's voice continued.
-You're not me, are you? You and I are already different beings. At this time, Aria has just been born or hasn't even yet. I don't want to interfere with your path.
'Even after this path ends, after our goal is achieved. Will you and I remain different?'
-Hmm. I hope so, but maybe not. I might vanish, or you might. If we become one, it won't be Feizashi or Fernandez. It'll be something entirely new.
The gulf with the past had widened that much. For him, acting with thoughts and convictions the old Feizashi never would have, the past was now mere memory and experience.
So this was a form of escape. Or perhaps wandering, or mere diversion. Fernandez slowly opened his eyes.
Abel watched him anxiously. Seeing him silent, she nibbled at the corner of her lip.
*Thump.* His heart pounded. Not due to lingering fragments of King Dain's soul. This pulse was his own. Young blood, young flesh and instincts crying out.
Feeling his blood heat up, Fernandez chuckled instead. The immature sensation felt foreign and enjoyable.
"You'll regret it."
"Me? Or you?"
"All of us."
"Regret is lingering attachment to past choices. Fernandez. And I have little attachment to the world or fate."
But dragons are greedy. Abel smiled cautiously, gazing at him. Her blue eyes shone clear.
"Religiosa Demonica can go three days without sleep."
"Fun. A threat?"
"A warning."
Fernandez pressed his finger to the candle's wick, extinguishing it.