Chapter 111
Chapter 111
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 111
Chapter Title: Descendants of the True Hero
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Authentic Warrior Enuel Yere Sharilion.
The fifth hero of the Holy Elmine Knights and wielder of the true holy sword Sharilion.
The true holy swords wielded by Authentic Warriors were said to possess omnipotent power, their true strikes capable of cleaving mountains, tearing the heavens, and parting seas, according to the legends passed down.
For reference, these true holy swords are the legendary treasures that serve as the prototypes for all holy swords currently used by Fake Warriors. Regrettably, no human aside from the Elmine Knights has wielded them to this day.
Among those five heroes, Enuel—who was recorded as wielding the ultimate martial prowess—appears from the midpoint of *The Chronicle of Heroes*, which details the Tarhye Rondel War in depth, and continues through to the grand finale.
“And I knew about the assault squad that followed Enuel too… but I thought they were wiped out right before the final battle.”
“They weren’t annihilated. They survived and left descendants like us. They steeled themselves for death to follow him, but he saved our ancestors and died alone…”
In the later stages of the war, after the Abyss Lord, Insect Lord, Lizard Lord, and Lord of Time among the [Forgotten Kings] were sealed one by one, the numerically disadvantaged Spider Lord began a siege in the old capital of Harbadonia.
The Mountains of Madness were a natural fortress for the Spider Lord.
The abyss that blanketed Harbadonia was overwhelmingly denser than it is now. Ordinary people would fall into mindless husks the moment they set foot there, making it impossible to deploy regular troops.
Even the ancestors of the beastkin, who had gradually gathered around Enuel from mid-war and formed a unit called the assault squad, couldn’t advance toward that overwhelming abyss.
Thus, the leader of the [Ones Who Came], Tersia, planned to head to the Mountains of Madness with only the Elmine Knights’ survivors, Alkaeos and Enuel…
“Our ancestors wanted to follow Lord Enuel to the very end. So they begged the gods. To let us go too…”
“…And so, like this?”
“Yes. In the end, the Black Sun Karenden bestowed his blessing upon our ancestors. The body of a beast capable of fighting freely even in this empire’s extremes, and a spirit resilient enough to resist any abyss.”
They lost their human form as a result, but no one regretted it later.
They simply bore the pride of Enuel’s assault squad and marched north after their lord.
“It’s written that beast-like brave souls followed the final heroes… That was referring to beastkin?!”
“Yes. Our forebears.”
After an endless bloodbath, Enuel seized the mountain fortress, deliberately dispersed the assault squad around the perimeter, then ascended the peak with Alkaeos, slaying and sealing the Spider Lord.
In that process, the lead hero Alkaeos fell, and the final hero Enuel—who drove his blade into the Spider Lord’s heart—breathed his last in Tersia’s arms.
Had he led the assault squad up, he might have used them as shields and survived. But Enuel did not.
“As our ancestors beat the ground in grief, dawn finally broke over the world, and the age of the abyss ended.”
“…”
“When the [Ones Who Came] still dwelt in the world, when the [Severing Great Wall] was built along Harbadonia’s borders, our ancestors could have returned to human form but chose not to.”
“Why?”
“To remain in this land of abyss and guard the seal forged by his blood. Thus, this form is our clan’s eternal loyalty and pride toward Lord Enuel.”
As Clan Leader Beduel finished his tale, a wistful silence settled over the tent.
It was hard to dismiss as lies because the gaps in information from all the books on the gods’ era that had puzzled him finally felt perfectly filled.
And above all… who in this era knew better than anyone what those left behind could do for the departed.
“What do you think it felt like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Enuel could never have known their loyalty—he was already dead… But knowing that, what did it feel like to uphold it anyway?”
Disgust welled up at myself for posing such a selfish question even now, twisting my lips into a bitter smile.
This was a question for me.
A question from a world where all my comrades who could ask it had vanished, leaving me alone forever without answers. So I didn’t expect one either.
“Child, we say funerals aren’t for the departed, but for those left behind.”
“For those left behind…?”
“Ponder the meaning yourself. And why not? In a world brimming with the gods’ miracles, how can you know what might happen. What if Enuel returned by divine grace and learned of our ancestors’ deeds?”
At that, a sharp pang stabbed my heart like a blade.
“He might curse them as fools, but deep down, wouldn’t he take pride thinking, ‘As expected of my men’?”
“…”
“That thought gives us strength. When I was young, I’d imagine the moment returned Enuel heard of our ancestors’ lives.”
Was it sorrow, or joy? My head bowed of its own accord amid pain I couldn’t name.
Was it like that?
For those guys too?
Did they dream such sweet dreams while waiting for me, who promised to return… just as I now dream of their lives?
Deep in my chest, something hard and knotted shattered, melted, and welled up as tears.
Since returning to this world, no one had let me pose such a question so earnestly. No one who could answer so sincerely.
Beduel before me wasn’t my comrades, but it felt just like those fools hugging my back and saying those words, making my chest unbearably tight.
“Thank you… for telling me…”
Barlzen could only gape in bewilderment at the boy, and understandably so…
For this was the first time anyone—the kid before them—had listened to their tale so gravely, even shedding tears.
His heart stirred warmly for a moment, but he shook his head firmly and steeled himself.
“Hmph, no use play-acting tears now that it’s all over. Cut it out.”
“…?”
“The era of upholding loyalty is done. They should’ve treated us well when we were good—now it’s just kill or be killed.”
What the…? As the boy hastily wiped his tears and looked up, Clan Leader Beduel let out a deep sigh.
“This land is shrouded in the omens of war now. We’ve warned the wolves repeatedly that the Spider Lord’s seal is weakening…”
“Those bastards didn’t listen.”
“How is that possible? The Light Dragon couldn’t have been unaware…”
“This is abyss land—the Light Dragon’s eyes don’t reach here.”
Without giving time for shock at the clan leader’s words, Barlzen piled on more bombshells.
“Anyway, those scum treated us like beasts and ignored our words. We can’t maintain the seal anymore.”
“You mean…?”
“The Spider Lord—or its minions—are on the verge of breaking free. You’ll know when ancient beings lead the blizzard forth.”
How could this happen?
This was different from the Lizard Lord’s seal breaking three hundred years ago. That was black mages forcing it open—this was…
“Shouldn’t we stop it somehow? If we leave it like this, something terrible will happen!”
“Tch, if we could stop it, we’d be heroes, not beastkin. We can’t with our power. So we’ve no choice but to flee below the wall.”
“But I heard the white wolves are blocking beastkin from passing the wall.”
“Fake wolves can bluster all they want—we’ll force our way through.”
Rain stared blankly at Barlzen.
Not because he didn’t understand. He wondered if Barlzen knew what situation his words would cause, the weight of those actions.
But interpreting the boy’s gaze that way, the clan leader spoke in a sighing tone.
“Ralqun’s son Griffion is gathering all the tribes. To tear down the wall and head below.”
* * *
The abyss possesses the property of eroding the world. Even a speck, if left unchecked, will eventually multiply enough to swallow the entire world.
The [Severing Great Wall] was built by the White Dragon Legion under the gods’ guidance to halt such expansion.
Even the gods couldn’t fully purify Harbadonia, once the abyss’s heartland, so they erected a wall of light at its border to block the threat from the civilized world.
‘To tear down a place like that…’
This was the precursor to doom, wasn’t it? He couldn’t fathom how things had come to this.
With the Light Dragon Haraderiman and Water Dragon Yeriserika glaring sharply, and even the true dragon Alakish dispatched here.
「Until about five hundred years ago, there were no issues. But from some point after, even the white wolves stopped heeding my words.」
With contact severed from the Light and Water Dragons, Alakish had waited here alone for the Fire Dragon’s call, tending the beastkin and watching the abyss.
He hadn’t said it, but Alakish’s rigidly dutiful nature had its flaws.
Had he sensed such a dire anomaly, he should have rebuked and condemned the wall’s wolves, then immediately reported to the divine dragons.
‘Yellow dragons like Yoshuhar handle this sort of thing just fine…’
The red dragon legion was like human warriors—laconic, devoted solely to their duties.
It had been an advantage through long history, but here it backfired so badly…
An ominous premonition stirred.
This situation, escalated to this extreme, felt like someone’s long-concocted scheme.
‘After turning beastkin hero tales into cautionary fables, slowly spread rumors that beastkin are truly cursed beings… Drive a wedge between humans and beastkin, amplifying conflict until war erupts.’
And to keep the Light and Water Dragons focused south, stir up big and small incidents on the continent. A diversion tactic, essentially.
If this truly was their plan, and everything was unfolding as intended…
Suddenly, the world’s destruction Karenden had shown flashed in his mind. And his words to me.
“Our village is preparing to join Griffion too. We leave in ten days.”
If the wall falls, the world’s doom accelerates. And beastkin turning hostile is fatal to humanity.
We can’t let the black mages’ plan proceed as is.
He endlessly calculated these pragmatic reasons to justify his actions, but his true motive was embarrassingly simple.
“Could you help me resolve this peacefully?”
He wanted to help.
He just wanted to.
Perhaps he saw shadows of his hero party comrades in them, or felt cocky kinship with Hero Enuel…
“What did you just say?”
No need for rambling preambles—just the conclusion, as before: he wanted to help.
“You said it yourself, Clan Leader. You upheld loyalty in case Enuel returned. But how would you feel if beastkin tore down the wall?”
“That’s… But I have a duty to protect the village families. We can’t hold out any longer. Staying means being devoured by the abyss.”
“So the solution is just to get past the wall, right?”
“Damn it! If it were that easy, would we be like this? This isn’t something a brat like you can resolve peacefully!”
Waiting for Barlzen to bristle, he placed a hand on his chest confidently. Time to use that annoying noble status.
“I’m a fairly high-ranking noble in the empire. The white wolves might listen if I speak.”
“Don’t make me laugh! Would those scum heed a kid like you? What, are you the emperor’s son?”
“Hmm, they might ignore me, but it’d be different if she stepped forward.”
“What’s with that kid?”
“She’s a lady of the Page House, with authority rivaling a grand prince. Descendant of magic’s progenitor.”
At that shocking declaration, the clan leader and Barlzen turned astonished eyes to Kasena.
“Magic’s progenitor… Emita?”
“The one the Black Sun cherished like his own daughter…?”
As expected, Emita’s name—pillar of ancient legends—was widely known even among beastkin.
For reference, Emita and Enuel were contemporaries. Their scales of achievement and battlefields differed vastly, but still (Emita was a young girl during the Tarhye Rondel War).
Perhaps feeling kinship from sharing such luminaries as roots, wariness visibly faded from Barlzen’s eyes.
“If we can open the gates peacefully, there’s no need to tear down the wall, right?”
“…!”
“So when you go to this Griffion fellow, take us along. We’ll persuade him—and the white wolves too.”