Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Each Other's Wishes
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*
Fernandez kept his gaze fixed on the glass of water Abel had poured for him as he pulled his chair back slightly and sat down. Abel sat across from him, tilting her head.
“Why are you doing that?”
“...Pardon?”
“Is there a bug in the glass or something?”
“No, nothing like that.”
“...Hmm?”
Abel shrugged and tapped the desk with her finger. It was an attempt to draw his attention. But he continued to glare at the water in the glass.
Abel brushed her bangs aside and looked into his blackened, sunken eyes. What on earth is he doing?
“When are you going to start talking?”
“...You ask first.”
“Why won’t you look at me?”
“Is that your question?”
“It’s an important one.”
Fernandez slowly raised his head at those words... but upon seeing Abel with her arms crossed, he naturally turned his gaze to the window. Looking at her face made his heart race, and lowering his eyes ambiguously drew them to the flesh pressed firmly against her arms.
‘Damn it.’
-Act your age for once. Behave like an adult.
‘You try it.’
-In my past life, when I was in that situation, I ended up with a son?
‘Damn it. Feizashi.’
Fernandez thought his soul was utterly useless. Feizashi, who cackled and spewed vulgar jokes solely to torment him, and the fragment of King Dane that kept whispering for him to wipe Abel’s sweat and offer her warm words.
“I’m right here. Fernandez.”
-Whoosh.
Abel’s white hand waved in front of his eyes. Fernandez startled and looked at her. She glared at him with a sullen expression, her bangs hanging down.
“What the hell have you been thinking about lately?”
“How’s your spirit realm holding up?”
“...What?”
“After turning into a dragon in Altbert, your rank must have taken a hit. Are you still able to move around okay?”
Taken aback by the unexpected question, Abel stammered.
“I should be fine for another hundred years or so. And a hundred years is plenty. Humans live about that long anyway, so I might as well think of myself as one now.”
Abel said that, then gazed at Fernandez with a soft smile. Her eyes sparkled like she was teasing a child.
“Were you worried about me just now? Hehe, Fernandez.”
-Scrape.
As Abel pulled her chair a bit closer, Fernandez retreated exactly the same distance. It was the instinctive distance sense of a Demonica. And with her draconic perception, Abel noticed the retreat without a single inch of error.
“...Why are you moving away?”
“We were always about this far apart.”
They had indeed been that distance apart. Abel looked at Fernandez, who was avoiding her eyes. Though faded, the aura of a soul that had reached demigod status—more precisely, the soul’s aura—quickly discerned his state.
It felt strangely familiar. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Fernandez cut her off.
“Um, Abel. Have you ever heard of the desert or the great wilderness?”
“Only rumors.”
Abel wore a dissatisfied expression. Fernandez quickly pulled a letter from his pocket. It bore the empire’s wax seal.
“I’ve been invited there. Will you come with me?”
“...Hmph. You sly one.”
Abel furrowed her brow slightly, seeming to ponder for a moment. Soon, she flashed a brilliant smile.
“If you put it that way, I can’t ask what I want to know.”
She took the letter, scowled briefly, then slowly brought it to her nose.
“Perfume...?”
“Ah, you’ll meet her soon. Someone from the imperial special forces...”
“Hmm. Women’s perfume.”
Abel set the unopened envelope on the desk. She stood up and stretched for a bit. The glimpse of white, toned muscle between her loose clothes captured his gaze.
“I can’t open an invitation from a lady first. Come on, follow me. I need to loosen up.”
“...Abel?”
“I need to see that swordsmanship you’ve learned.”
There was no ulterior motive. Abel strode out of the room.
*
As soon as they passed through the monastery’s main gate, Angela chuckled and pulled out her pipe. At the same time, the man waiting by the gate approached and lit it with a spark from his fingertip.
-Sizzle.
“Pah. Hoo. Damn puritan zealots.”
“How did it go with the vassal?”
Angela curled one side of her lip into a fierce grin. The man courteously opened the carriage door for her and stepped back. As she climbed in, she said.
“Get in. Brandon. This isn’t for yelling outside.”
“Yes, Captain.”
-Creak. Thud.
The carriage rumbled down the mountain road on its rough wheels. Inside, Angela closed the curtain and lowered the iron grate. In the now fully sealed space, she stretched out languidly on the carpeted sofa.
“Those idealists were hiding a real gem. We can proceed with the original plan.”
“The Chief is quite worried.”
“I don’t care what that old fogey says. Brandon.”
“The Church of Beitasser isn’t some rural chapel. And the saint of the Holy Pantheon isn’t just some village kid passing by.”
“I’m not some country bumpkin either, and the special forces aren’t a neighborhood watch.”
Brandon held an ashtray to Angela’s fingertips. She twisted her hand slightly to flick off the ash and took another deep drag.
“Hoo. We’ve both staked our clothes or our lives—what’s with all the fear?”
“I’m fine, but for you, Captain...”
“Ha. Cut it out. You’re laying it on thick, you rascal.”
Angela sat up roughly, tapping her pipe into the ashtray. She pulled a pocket watch from her bosom and opened it. The intricate gears twisted into strange patterns.
“But if that saint breaks, wouldn’t that be a burden?”
“If it’s fated to be a touchstone, that’s as far as it goes. Prepare everything. We leave in four days. We’ll gauge his fate then.”
“...Yes, Captain.”
*
Fernandez wrapped bandages around his torn and split muscles and skin, then bit off the end. His luggage was mostly packed, and the gear he’d gotten from Brother Martirio was sufficient. Ever since becoming a Grade 2 inquisitor, restrictions on armory access had eased considerably.
-Knock knock.
“Ah, Kirhas. Come in.”
“Yes, benefactor.”
Kirhas opened the door and entered. She stood hesitantly in the doorway, looking at Fernandez with an anxious expression.
“...Why are you just standing there?”
“Um, benefactor. I mean... From what I can guess... Um, by any chance...”
“Ah, did Abel tell you? Yeah, we’re going to your homeland.”
“...I see.”
Kirhas bit her lip slightly and stepped inside. Her ears drooped limply. She kept glancing at his luggage.
Uncharacteristically, she hadn’t prepared any travel gear at all.
“What’s wrong? Sit here.”
Fernandez patted the bed. Kirhas blushed faintly and sat beside him.
“Pull this tighter for me. Ah, yeah. Thanks. A bit harder.”
Kirhas carefully pulled the bandage while looking at his bare upper body. Thanks to getting utterly thrashed in the spar with Abel, his body was covered in cuts. She frowned slightly at the sight.
She gently placed her hand on his scarred, muscular chest. Beneath the thin skin, powerful muscles throbbed hotly. The hero with a bear’s muscles and a lion’s heart...
“Abel went too far. You’re heading out on a long journey soon...”
“This is nothing. Kirhas, Demonica recover fast. So, what’s up?”
“Ah, um...”
Kirhas tapped her tail against the bed, lost in thought.
-She’s anxious.
‘I can see that.’
-Idiot. A beastkin whose whole family burned and who was sold into slavery shows up with a human—her kin will welcome her with open arms, huh.
‘Ah...’
Among the proud beastkin tiger tribe, appearing with a human would make her look like a harlot who sold her body to one. Kirhas was reluctant to enter a region where she might encounter her own kind.
He’d been inconsiderate. Fernandez placed his hand on her head. Half a beat later, her ears perked up straight.
“Don’t worry. Kirhas. I have a plan.”
“...?”
“I won’t let you feel ashamed.”
Kirhas Hearttaker, shield of the wilderness. The great hero who formed the beastkin tiger alliance to hold back Karadskar. In his past life, she was the idol of all beastkin tigers.
Would this life be different? She’d lost her homeland, been sold into slavery in human lands, and even fallen into the hands of heretic cultists. But she overcame it all and returned home.
Over the next twenty years, when Kirhas Hearttaker’s banner stood tall in the wasteland, no one dared scorn her as “slave-born.” As one of her arch-rivals, Fernandez knew exactly how she’d risen to command.
‘The wildcard of the Fifty Years’ War.’
Fernandez looked down at Kirhas, who had her eyes closed, feeling his touch. Among her past life achievements was “breaching the ancient Holy Pantheon ruins.”
An ancient ruin whose location only she knew in this era. The secret base of the now-extinct Kalani clan. ‘The Fall of Kazak Kadan.’
If she breached its heart and revived the ancient Holy Pantheon cult, making a spectacular debut. In his past life, she’d built her position first before that feat, but for a Kirhas starting with a slave’s reputation, it’d be the perfect springboard.
Kadan of the Hunt. The first god slain by Mumto’s hand. Unless at full strength, for a weakened Mumto barricaded after the Altbert incident, what could be more vexing than the resurrection of the god he’d killed?
“...Yes, benefactor.”
Kirhas nodded with a bright smile. At her steadfast trust, Fernandez’s lips softened.
*
Abel sat cross-legged on the bed, bathed in moonlight. Melrshildur was the goddess of dawn, and right before sunrise, her power peaked.
-Hoo...
White breath escaped her lips. She felt her spirit realm rapidly reassembling and realigning. How much life did she have left? Without overdoing it, two hundred years? If she lived more fiercely, about a hundred?
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Her blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Yeah, it didn’t matter. A hundred years was enough. If she could close her eyes in the place she wanted, in the arms of the people she wanted.
‘...Dane.’
Abel recalled the sword strike Fernandez had shown her earlier. Rough and crude, but it was unmistakably Dane’s swordsmanship. Her swordsmanship. The one she’d taught him personally.
‘Dane, you met him yourself and passed on your sword.’
She gazed at the old cloak hanging on her room’s wall. Wool fabric stamped with King Dane’s seal. She looked sadly at the roaring lion emblem.
‘Please, protect him until the end of this journey.’
Was it too cruel a request from a mother and mentor? Abel smiled sadly and closed her eyes. Far off, the sun was rising.