Chapter 299
Chapter 299
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 299
Chapter Title: Shadowed Sky (4)
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After Kirhas left, Fernandez stared out the window without a word. The contents of their conversation refused to stick in his mind.
Words floated in the air. When he had tried to console the tearful Kirhas and send her away, when he had to refuse her plea to stay with him just for the day. Her expression, and even his own reflection in her large eyes, were still nailed into his memory.
His throat felt dry and tight. He let out a sigh for the umpteenth time.
‘It’s a blessing.’
He had never thought of having a child, but denying the very idea of family was mere folly. Actions have consequences. It had been an act for a moment’s pleasure and a fleeting peace, but he had no intention of denying the result.
A child born between him—a great hero who once commanded the continent in his previous life—and her. Even if she wasn’t destined to become a great chieftain or a legendary hero, the birth of a child should be joy and happiness in itself.
It was something to celebrate. But… but.
‘Aria.’
He gazed at the night sky shrouded in oily darkness, feeling as if he were sinking into a deep swamp. Aria. Aria… Are you? Our son? Were my regrets, my goals, my ideals nothing more than a fleeting bubble?
After all he had done for his son’s life and happiness, could that son return to their side? His… life up to now… Was it all just a dream in this sub-dimension, a mere shadow of the main world?
—Fernandez. Stop it.
Feizashi spoke heavily. Even he, who had been cracking jokes moments ago, had fallen silent upon hearing that the life Kirhas carried was a daughter. The gender of the child wasn’t important. But it not being a son carried an entirely different meaning.
The child born from him might not be the son from his previous life. Even if he reunited with Aria, even if he committed that brazen act again, a son might not be born between them.
The son from his previous life might never appear again in this era(@might never appear). Then… then what would remain at their side at the end of this journey, after succeeding in defying heaven?
What had they been running toward as their goal? A mirage, a rainbow, the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, bubbles rising from a teacup. No different from those.
—Cut it out. Damn it. If I had hands, I’d slap some sense into you, but alas.
‘If you had a body, you’d already be dead by my hand.’
—Hearing you talk like that means your head’s on straight. Positive. Since you’re being positive, how about shifting your perspective even more positively?
‘You’re saying that… now?’
Fernandez growled and glared at him, but Feizashi just shrugged.
—What’s wrong with it? Before we were anyone’s father or husband, we were warlocks. Damn good ones, highly capable scholars at that. Hey. What good is a brain lost to emotion? Hand the body over to me instead.
‘Reason?’
—Yeah. Reason. Try a familiar thought experiment. Let’s set up some hypotheses. One, our child might not be a son.
Feizashi began explaining, pointing at the air with his finger.
—Two, even if a son is born, it’s impossible to prove it’s the same child as in our previous life. Even if we give him the same name, the same upbringing, even the same appearance. Does that make it the same being?
‘What are you getting at?’
—Stop moping around. Damn it. A guy pushing eighty acting like this. Is the current Kirhas the same person as in our previous life? Do you think the current Rene Philippa is the same as the previous life’s Carvelier Empress? Even if King Vicente fathers a child and Vicente II is born, do you think the Knight King from our previous life will reincarnate?
A familiar paradox. The paradox of Delis’ outer walls. If wooden walls are reinforced with bronze plating and later become bronze walls, can you call that fortress the same one recorded in history?
It was the foundation of warlock theory. Reflections on the continuity of existence. An ancient paradox always mentioned in understanding the process of mana conversion and the manifestation of magic as a result.
Especially since it could be applied to oneself.
‘So… what then?’
—You asking because you don’t know? The game’s already set, there’s no turning back, and you don’t even want to! You idiot… Just two years ago, we were over the moon at getting this last chance. Your resolve… our resolve…! No. ‘My’ resolve—was it really that flimsy!!
Feizashi shouted, locking eyes with Fernandez’s listless gaze. It wasn’t conveyed through voice but through the connection of souls, so his rage pierced Fernandez’s heart with a hue beyond mere words.
Yes. Before results were known, all assumptions were meaningless. Regret was merely a detriment that delayed decisions. A warlock must be cold, and a strategist even colder. A strategist’s heart must beat slowly and heavily.
Once he had leaped onto the gambling table with the world itself as the stake, he had no choices left. Stopping was regression, the only path to victory was advancing. What he must do and what he could gain was, quite literally, ‘everything.’
High risk, high return. A struggle beyond that, with entirety against entirety on both sides of the scale. There were too many piled-up problems for him to nitpick over fate.
But.
‘I need a break.’
Still, he needed to clear his head for a moment, whatever it took. Fernandez organized his paperwork, picked up the greatsword leaning against the wall, and slung it over his shoulder. The substantial weight felt reassuring.
Reia’s flagship wouldn’t reach the inland for a while yet. The research and experiments he was doing now weren’t urgent. Clinging to them wouldn’t yield progress anyway.
He needed some ventilation, even if just for a little while. At least right now.
* * *
—Whoooosh!!
The gale roared, heavy rain slamming down. Each time the blade danced through the air, raindrops halted above his head before pouring down again.
The sensation of his hair curling wetly was unpleasant. But once more. The feeling of hot blood cooling in the cold rain, limbs stiffening refreshingly, was quite good.
So once more. Whoosh, raindrops tangled along the sword path, knotting into a dance. A Religiosa Demonica’s eyesight could even catch the spray of raindrops with the naked eye amid the sparse light of a midnight ocean storm.
Dazedly watching the scene, once more.
Twisting the sword path into the shimmering raindrops that flowed like mana—
—Crunch!
“Hm…?”
The swing was blocked. Only then did he look over. There stood Abel, drenched in the rain, right in front of him. She held her longsword sideways, pressing against the side of his greatsword’s blade.
“You could catch a cold.”
“Religiosa Demonica don’t get colds.”
“…But I might.”
Abel met Fernandez’s eyes before closing her mouth again. Soon, she took a step back and assumed her stance.
“If I’m going to catch a cold anyway, better to sweat it out first. Come on.”
She meant to shake off his troubles with some swordplay, seeing how burdened he looked. It was consideration in her style. Instead of prying questions or hasty sympathy, a steady, thoughtful encouragement.
Fernandez raised his blade without a word. Perhaps because he knew even at full strength they wouldn’t easily harm each other. It felt less burdensome than practicing alone.
—Clang!
“There’s a lot of killing intent in your swings.”
Lightly deflecting a strike.
“A sword aura that couldn’t even cut paper, let alone flesh.”
—Kclang!
Grumbling close to nagging. Abel wasn’t free of frustration either. This stubborn man was so accustomed to hiding his inner turmoil that he’d forgotten how to open up honestly.
The type easily found among priests who had to hear others’ confessions and bury those laments. In Abel’s view, his way of brooding alone wasn’t like the vile warlocks or schemers he described. It was closer to the sensibility of an ascetic priest’s life.
“So, will you confess to me?”
“About what?”
“Anything. Even if it’s not fervent.”
It was Abel’s attempt at humor, but Fernandez didn’t smile. He spun his sword lightly to clash and then lowered it to the ground.
“It’s about Kirhas, isn’t it?”
“You knew?”
“About the pregnancy? I knew that much.”
She shrugged. No big deal. The birth of life should always be a blessing.
“Not the best timing, but in truth, the conception of new life turns any moment into a good one by itself, whenever it happens. Where’s a world without uncertainties?”
“It’s a daughter.”
“Congratulations.”
It was sincere. Abel had a draconic greed, but it didn’t mean possessiveness. Her love wasn’t confined to exclusivity. The one she loved wasn’t someone who loved only her in form, but the person themselves.
“I still… still think about it. She’s still right before my eyes. That kid pleading through tears. Begging me to kill her. My mistakes, my errors… When the life I created died under my hands. That cold, withered finger losing its warmth.”
The tiny hand reaching from the swaddle, the nose like Aria’s, the curly hair like his.
The blue eyes craving his love, the child’s cheeks streaming tears in pain.
[I’ll return with results you can be proud of, Father.]
The back turned away, swallowing humiliation at his callous father’s mockery that day.
The emaciated body. The heart pulsing with mana. The sky-blue eyes, clouded and distant, gazing toward death.
At the end of all those moments, the words realized too late but never spoken.
‘You… were always my pride.’
As a father, he should have been his son’s cradle, his ideal, his beacon.
He should have been.
Aria. I ruined you and our love. It might be beyond repair. Don’t forgive me. But I will sink into regret.
“Really. I can’t go easy on you today.”
—Boom!
“Guh!”
Abel sighed and approached, then suddenly punched Fernandez square in the chest. A blow so fierce it compressed his lungs. Fernandez let out a choked gasp and crumpled, gasping for air.
Caught completely off guard, the impact doubled. Abel looked down at him coldly and said.
“You’re so out of it you can’t even respond to an attack like this. Sigh… What more can I say? Is that really your worry?”
That he might not be a better father to the new life.
Was that the fear? Abel said icily.
“Pathetic! Before becoming a better father, shouldn’t you first be a better spouse? Did it never occur to you that your selfish fretting stabs like a dagger to others!”
“Abel.”
“Shut your mouth!”
—Boom!
Abel inverted her longsword and slammed it into the ground. Thud, the blade sank into the solid wood with a heavy rupture.
“Go! Go to Kirhas. To her, you’re her first love, her first man, aren’t you? If that man suddenly gets her pregnant and then mopes alone, what do you think she’s feeling right now! Have you lived this long and still that childish!”
Abel huffed for a while, yanked her sword free, slung it over her shoulder, and vanished into the rain somewhere. Fernandez watched her back for a moment before standing.
The world’s end, hell’s advent, great demons’ lairs, the pantheon’s sealed gates, civil wars among archdukes…
Such massive events still loomed.
Yet amid it all, the worry deepest in his heart was the tiny life before him.
“A daughter. What should I name her?”
—Now?
“Suddenly. It just came to me.”
He’d ensure her future had no hardships at least. Fernandez straightened his back and burst into laughter. Only then did it feel real. He had become a father to another child.
A child can’t become a parent’s pride. A child is a parent’s pride from the moment of birth.
So all that remained was for him, as a parent, to become his child’s pride.
He would, without fail. He would hand her the entire world in those small hands.
One regret was enough. The future was still dark, still uncertain. The only silver lining was his certainty that it would end with his generation.
He would make it so, without fail.
The breather was over. Now, only action remained.
* * *
Three days later, Reia’s flagship docked at Sharza Port, the western port city of Kirjart.