Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: The Battle with the Barbarian Elites Has Ended
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-Ding, ding, ding, ding.
The all-clear bell rang out.
Only then did people open the shelter doors and emerge onto the surface.
"Mom."
"It's okay, Gina. It's all over now."
Lena pulled her daughter into a tight embrace.
Her body trembled.
It wasn't just because of the chilly dawn air.
The terrifying roar of the wyverns that had shaken the entire city the night before, and the blare of the fear-inducing horns, still echoed in her ears.
'Quiet.'
The suffocating silence that filled the streets terrified her.
It felt like a harbinger of death and despair.
'Alex.'
Her heart pounded.
She pictured her husband sprinting toward the walls the moment the emergency bells tolled.
The smile on his face as he kissed her and their daughter, telling them not to worry.
Would she ever see that smile again?
Her heart raced wildly.
She prayed desperately that, just this once, the goddess would hear her pleas.
"Mom, is Dad okay?"
"Don't worry, Gina. Your dad's strong. He'll be fine."
Lena murmured it like a promise to herself.
"Everyone, come out! The battle is over! The city is safe!"
In the distance, she saw a soldier bellowing at the top of his lungs.
Lena, like the other women, ran toward him.
"Thomas! Is Thomas safe?!"
"My brother's name is Jason!"
"Lucas! Please!"
Desperation and urgency filled their faces.
The soldier silently pulled out a roster.
Bracing for screams and tears, Lena checked the list.
"A-Alex?"
"Yes?"
"Huh?"
People blinked in confusion.
Something was off about the roster.
"No list of the fallen...?"
"Just one sheet for the injured? Why?"
Piles of documents should have been there, but the stack was impossibly thin.
All eyes turned to the smiling soldier.
"That's the entire roster."
"What? What do you mean..."
"I didn't drop or forget anything. There were no fatalities. The injured number around thirty, that's all."
"...?!"
Desperation, longing, fear, and resignation vanished, replaced by bewilderment, shock, and confusion.
"D-Don't lie! Wyverns attacked! The Steel Scale Tribe raided us—there has to be more than this!"
Lena thought the soldier was spinning some clumsy white lie out of kindness.
But his smile didn't fade.
"It's natural to find it hard to believe. I felt the same when I first heard the report."
The soldier suggested they head to the western wall.
"See for yourselves. That's the quickest way."
His confident tone left them flustered.
"You should hurry. Every citizen of Kazan will be rushing to see the spectacle."
Lena carried her daughter as she walked.
She encountered countless citizens.
Their expressions mirrored her own.
Disbelief, with just a flicker of 'Could it be?'
'No way that's possible.'
She had prayed countless times before.
But her prayers had never been answered.
Every raid took family, friends, neighbors.
She had expected the same this time.
After all, miracles couldn't overcome reality.
"Ah."
The moment they reached their destination, Lena froze in place.
She wasn't alone.
Men, elders, old women, children—countless people dropped to their knees, speechless.
The reality before their eyes was that surreal.
"Goddess above."
Gigantic corpses lay there.
Wyvern corpses, all too familiar to the people of Kazan.
But the number shocked them.
Twelve.
No less than twelve monsters lay sprawled in the street, burned, torn, crushed.
The soldiers collecting the wyvern bodies were all smiling. Not one wept or raged.
Facing this miraculous reality, every citizen invoked the goddess.
"Am I... dreaming right now?"
An old man staggered forward.
A senior soldier held back a junior trying to stop him.
He knew the old man.
Two years ago, he had personally delivered the news of the man's son and granddaughter's deaths in a Steel Scale Tribe raid.
"O-ohhh."
The old man trembled violently as he touched the wyvern's cold head.
"It's not a dream. It's real, real! The wyverns are dead! The wyverns are dead!"
"Yes, sir. The wyverns are dead. Not a single one survived."
"Who? Who brought divine punishment on these cursed bastards? Who is this noble hero?"
"Sir Daniel."
"Sir Daniel?"
The old man's eyes widened.
"That mage?"
"Yes, that mage, sir."
The soldier took the old man's hand.
"Kazan's Magic Knight, Sir Daniel. He rained lightning bolts on the wyvern riders. Thanks to him, not a soul died last night. Everyone's safe."
"A-aaaaaaah!!!!"
The old man collapsed, wailing loudly.
For two years, his tears had only been ones of sorrow. But not today.
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"
The old man laughed. It was his first laugh in two years, tears streaming down his smiling face.
Starting with him, joyful sobs echoed everywhere.
People laughing through their tears spread like a contagion.
"Mom, people are crying."
"They're crying from joy."
Lena looked up at the sky.
The sun was rising.
For the first time in Kazan's history, a morning dawned with no one grieving.
"Daniel."
"Sir Daniel."
"Magic Knight Daniel!"
The people chanted the name of their miracle-worker in unison.
The hero's two-syllable name spread across the city with their tears.
The morning after the Steel Scale Tribe's assault usually turned the whole city into a funeral hall.
A grim, mournful gloom lingered for days.
Today was different.
The confused Kazan citizens of the morning had regained their vibrancy and laughter by lunchtime, as if nothing had happened.
A miracle: repelling the Steel Scale Tribe with zero casualties.
The酒 prepared for funerals and memorials became celebratory toasts for this miracle.
"How the hell did they take down those monsters?"
"Come on, tell us! It's making my head spin!"
Soldiers surrounded by citizens grinned as they answered questions.
"Sir Daniel spotted the wyvern raid first yesterday. How? No idea."
"When the wyverns dove, I thought, 'We're done for.' But Sir Daniel didn't flinch—he summoned demons and charged them straight at the wyverns!"
"When those blue-flamed demons slammed into the wyverns and exploded, I thought it was all over. I'm no mage, so I figured it was a mistake. But soon the wyverns were staggering, crashing down—not gliding, falling. How? The demons! They cursed the wyverns as they died! No doubt!"
"The crashed ones were fine at first. But they would've been better off with broken necks. Black rain poured down on their heads."
"Lightning bolts fell from the sky! No lie—you saw the corpses."
"The wyverns screamed. Like they were in agony."
"Wyverns burning, barbarians crushed. Total chaos."
"Lunatic something Rain?"
"Dark Flame Rain, you idiot!"
"Then what's Lunatic?"
Excited soldiers ranted on.
It sounded like tall tales at first glance.
But the zero-casualty roster and wyvern corpses proved it was miraculous truth.
"Praise Magic Knight Daniel, everyone! He's the savior come to protect Kazan!"
"Magic Knight Daniel! Magic Knight Daniel! Magic Knight Daniel!"
Someone started chanting for Magic Knight Daniel.
"Sir Daniel isn't human. He's a calamity in human form."
"Yeah, a calamity."
"But he's our calamity, right?"
"Then that's a good thing, isn't it?"
Others shouted about our calamity.
"He took down twelve wyverns single-handed! Dragon Slayer fits perfectly!"
"Hearing that, yeah, we'll go with it."
"The reincarnation of Siegfried!"
Others screamed "Dragon Slayer" until hoarse.
An impromptu festival broke out in Kazan.
People sang the festival hero Daniel's name like a song.
Names changed, nicknames stuck, legends formed.
The birth of a hero!
Thrilled, people shouted their ultimate titles, praising the hero.
"I am Daniel of the Black Flames!"
"Take this! Dark Flame Rain!"
Kids ran through the streets, playing at casting spells with their hands.
"Cheers!"
"To Kazan's hero!"
Taverns open since morning were packed.
Laughter never left the lips of the toasting adults.
A bard atop a table strummed his mandolin.
【He split the night sky, summoning the black sun.
Praise the Dragon Slayer! Kazan's calamity!
The sky stained with demon blood,
The hero's hand severed the dragon's neck.
Magic Knight Daniel, our calamity.
Eternal, forevermore~】
"Great! Encore!"
"Long live Sir Daniel!"
Even those who'd normally scoff at such songs showered encores and tips in this moment.
Yesterday's terror was gone.
All that remained was the excitement and smiles from this mythic miracle.
So where was the mage who had become myth, and what was he doing?
"Ugh, I'm dying."
"Sir Daniel says he's dying!"
"Healer! Call a healer, quick!"
"No, that's not what I—"
'Can't even whine in peace. Sheesh.'
Daniel sighed, lying in bed.
'Damn. Judging by my condition, no recovery for two or three days. But I smashed all the wyverns, so lying low a few days shouldn't draw flak, right?'
The indefinite contractor closed his eyes, lost in idle worries.
A languid haze like a brutal flu made his mind drift.
Black magic is not a convenient power.
Firing a cannon damages the barrel.
Magic works the same.
The stronger the spell, the greater the backlash on the caster.
So, the question: for the firepower-specialized spell Dark Flame Rain—a 5th Circle black magic spell unrivaled in destructive power—what's the backlash like?
"I see. Backlash from pushing too hard to defend Kazan."
Rainer fell silent after hearing the palace mage's report.
His teacup-holding hand trembled faintly.
"How serious is it?"
"If he had mana to spare, no issue. But this time, he depleted it completely, entering mana exhaustion. Add the black magic backlash on top... My assessment: absolute rest for at least a week."
"I see."
Everyone in the office, Rainer included, sighed in relief.
When he collapsed just ten minutes post-battle, they'd panicked thinking something was wrong. But the mage's explanation showed it wasn't that dire.
"Assign top healers. Attendants at least ten, minimum. Escort knights: skilled ones, at least six, three shifts."
"Understood."
"He's resting at his lodgings? I'll visit."
"No, Young Master."
"What?"
Rood blocked him.
Rainer frowned.
"Why stop me? You don't plan to paint me as some thug ignoring Kazan's savior, do you?"
"For your safety, Young Master."
"Safety?"
Syril stepped forward.
"Have you forgotten? Last night's raid targeted you directly."
"...!"
"There's a traitor in Kazan."
Syril and Rood's gazes fixed on Rainer.
"We have no intel on their numbers, strength, or anything. Until we identify and eliminate them, you can't leave the castle."
"Even a sick visit..."
"No. Don't forget—the Black Mane Tribe's wyverns aren't fully wiped out."
"Tch."
Rainer bit his lip.
Rood was right.
The Steel Scale Tribe's dive-bombing raids split into vanguard and rear guard.
Daniel had handled only the vanguard.
Last night, eight wyverns circling Kazan's skies before retreating flashed in his mind.
"Damn it. Fine. Handle it as fast as possible."
"Thank you for considering my advice."
Rood bowed.
Syril approached Rainer, who slumped irritated into his chair.
"Young Master, before disappointment, there's work to do."
"Work? What?"
"You need to write a letter."
"Letter? Like a thank-you note to Sir Daniel?"
"That's important too, but I mean the report to the Archduke."
"...!?"
Rainer's expression changed.
"No need to lie. Choosing Sir Daniel over other regulars was your call. Report yesterday's events plainly—the Archduke will acknowledge it as you and Sir Daniel's achievement."
"My achievement..."
"You know best what that brings."
He knew.
The Steel Scale Tribe, hated by all in the North.
Downing twelve of their wyverns—with zero deaths, an unbelievable feat.
He could picture his father's reaction.
He would go from heir candidate to true heir.
Dreams fulfilled.
His heart raced at the thought.
"...I never imagined the cornerstone solidifying the seat I've longed for would form like this."
Rainer gazed out the window.
Citizens strolled the peaceful streets at dusk.
Kazan's peace and future power.
Having received both gifts at once, Rainer laughed hollowly.
"We're in a position to give gifts, yet I got the biggest one. Now I owe too much."
"Don't overthink it. Owe a debt, pay it back."
"It's too big to handle."
"Become Northern Archduke, and you'll pay it off quick."
"Hahaha! Right, Syril. You're spot on."
Rainer's laughter filled the office.
Mountains of work: reports, damage assessments, merit tallies, budgets.
Yet strangely, no exhaustion or fatigue.
Simple reason.
'Kazan is smiling.'
That alone filled him with strength.
"Get up soon, Sir Daniel. So many await you."