Chapter 217
Chapter 217
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 217
Chapter Title: I Am Lin
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“What does that mean? Who?”
I tried forcing a cheerful tone, but Miria’s eyes wouldn’t allow me any lies.
“Rista, right? The hero’s name for sure?”
“…….”
“The assassin you called Rista at the cathedral showed up in my dream. I only knew she looked exactly like me, but not her name.”
Rista in your dream?
Strangely, I didn’t feel any bewilderment. Maybe because deep down, beyond reason, I’d already considered this possibility.
Or perhaps my senses were damaged somewhere from this unexpected reunion with Rista.
“But she said this: ‘Help Lin. This isn’t the time to be sitting around.’”
I wish she hadn’t relayed that message.
I’d been steeling myself, desperately trying to calm the agonizing pain in my heart...
I quietly lowered my gaze.
“The only ones around me back then were Aki and Nen. There’s no way they could be Lin...”
Normally, Pipi would’ve jumped in with a joke, calling it a “fake” or maybe a “genuine article” to defend me.
But Pipi was still confused too, perched blankly on the throne over there, staring into empty space.
That’s only natural. It has to be. Even I, a human, am struggling this much.
“Valensidis said your way of using magic in battle is incredibly similar to Lin’s.”
To be precise, it’s different.
Lin was an Elemental Master who handled all eight attributes, while I can only use two right now.
I only recently started handling lightning.
“And Pipi said that’s the same Pipi as Lady Fride’s Pipi...”
Miria swallowed the end of her sentence, biting her lip. Her eyes were saying it: I know the answer.
“Do you really want to hear that answer?”
Dust swirled in the underground cavern from the whipping winds. Like chasing that dust, I averted my gaze to the side.
“Yeah, I need to hear it. But I’m not forcing you. It’s your choice.”
I knew it. Talking about the past wouldn’t bring it back. There was no way to reclaim it in any form.
Where should I start?
How should I begin?
Should I explain?
Should I tell her about Rista, with her long, elegant white hair waving as she entered my life?
“I’m Lin. I studied under Dean Atlante for five years as his direct disciple, followed Rista to the South Pole during the chaos, and died alone at the end of that journey.”
Just reciting my past history like that made my heart feel squeezed in pain. I held up the Black Sun Lin as proof.
“Black Sun Carenden took pity on such a pathetic me and let me live again through reincarnation.”
All those words and past events that had festered deep in my chest, rotting away, things I could never pour out to anyone—my old life’s deeds.
“And in this life, I met you, who looks exactly like Rista. And this time, it’s Rista herself...”
I realized it midway through speaking.
That I couldn’t say any more. My chest hurt like it was tearing apart.
I forced a smile that looked ready to shatter any moment and wrapped up the story.
“But that’s all ancient history now. Nothing to be done about it.”
“…….”
“Keep it secret from the others, okay? I’m scared they’ll change how they treat me. Things are perfect right now.”
Miria, who couldn’t even exhale the breath born of her shock, spoke in a dazed tone.
“Wait. So that means—I’m—”
If I hadn’t felt zero anticipation for the words Miria was about to say, for that situation, it would’ve been a lie.
Somewhere on this continent, Rista had reincarnated the same way I did, and one day we’d meet by chance again, finishing the story we couldn’t 300 years ago.
Ah.
How wonderful that would be.
It’d be a lie if I said I hadn’t dreamed of it. But dreams are just dreams—you can’t force them on someone.
The moment you do, they become delusions.
“—I’m no longer Lin, just like you’re no longer Rista.”
Maybe because I said it like I was pushing her away, Miria could only stand there in stunned silence.
“I’m Rain, and you’re Miria. No need to worry about it. You don’t remember anyway, right?”
But this is right.
We have to draw the line like this.
The memories Rista and I built over five years can’t be unraveled in mere conversation. And rebuilding them is impossible.
- Lin, look at that flower field!
- Lin, promise me?
- Lin, we promised, right? You’ll come back and we’ll see that world together?
The gaze that had held me, pinned by some invisible force, vanished in that instant.
I thought I could finally breathe, but an even fiercer gaze flew at me.
Along with faint breaths that seemed ready to snap any second.
“So what do you plan to do now?”
“Plan to do?”
“Don’t play dumb. That Rista! From what I read in books, you and Rista weren’t just simple comrades.”
I know.
I know exactly what you’re trying to say.
That’s why I’d been trying to stay silent all this time, to steel my heart against it.
“I have to end it.”
She’d probably ask if I could. I couldn’t give a firm yes, but I could say it wasn’t something I wanted to do.
But it was something I had to do.
Someday—300 years ago—because that’s what Rista and I promised.
- If one of us gets corrupted by the abyss and turns undead, we all join forces then and grant them peace.
The day like this came, so we promised to gather as comrades and do exactly this.
“She’s already undead with no memories, so there’s no way we can have a proper conversation.”
“You mean that seriously?”
“Dead serious.”
“No regrets?”
I was just trying to keep that promise, yet my tongue felt unbearably heavy.
“Regrets? Well, one thing. That Rista left a letter. If I’d seen that, I wouldn’t have any lingering feelings. Too bad.”
When Nariaduk took over my body, the ice of Juyeo Soge Daeban shattered, and that letter vanished with it.
I’ll never see it now.
The last words Rista left me... With a sigh laced in grief, I looked up at the sky, and Miria murmured cautiously.
“I saw it. The letter Rista left for Lin. When we saved Aki.”
“What?”
“I remember the contents clearly. Not all of it, just the beginning.”
That must’ve been around then.
Inside the flame barrier, Ovin’s body turned transparent, and grotesque noises started bursting from his skeleton.
Ovin let out eerie sounds, propping one hand on the ground, trying to rise.
“The mutation’s starting...”
“Abuu.”
Scared, Setsnen gripped my back tightly with his fist.
“Bell Quirius!”
I forcibly amplified the mana flowing through Ovin’s body.
This way, he could somewhat resist the abyssal energy spreading through him. To slow the mutation’s speed.
Miria asked in a frantic tone.
“What? Did that stop the mutation?”
“No, just slowed it a bit. All I can do is...”
My forehead beaded with cold sweat from the momentary burst of extreme focus. My drained gaze turned to Valensidis beside Ovin.
‘Hurry, Valensidis. No time.’
* * *
“Bare it!”
With a shout, Valensidis dodged, parried, and shoved back the endlessly surging guards’ blades with his fan, swiftly advancing to Ovin’s side.
“Get His Highness to safety!”
“Sound the horn!”
Of course, he killed no one.
Do that, and he’d earn total resentment, with no chance to even attempt persuasion.
But what gain did he get from this tiresome ordeal?
- Just pretend you got duped and teach him once.
Because of that guy’s advice?
A realization there that might let him reach a similar realm?
- It’ll be an irreplaceable experience in your life, for sure.
That would’ve been true originally.
He’d entered this dream with half-doubt, half-hope too.
But now...
- You’ll face much despair in life, but you’ll surely meet those who recognize the prince’s worth.
Was “kinship” the word for this? He had no leisure to think of the right term.
“Your Highness, this way!”
One guard hoisted Ovin and bolted for the side door.
And from the distant sky, cracks began spreading through the dream world. Proof that his mind was collapsing along with his body.
If he let Ovin slip away here, if he failed to persuade him, it was all over. Yeah, but over what?
“Ovin! You gonna stay stuck in the past forever?”
“……?”
“Then you’ll remain a pathetic brat who can never live up to your mother’s expectations for life!”
Why had Valensidis lived in such a painful world himself?
Killing his master and carrying out the Black Church’s massacres.
“I won’t stop you if, when you meet your mother again in that sky someday, you return in that pathetic state.”
He’d become a disciple of a legendary shrine maiden, only to realize she was no different from other black mages, trembling with betrayal.
“Shut that mouth!”
Even then, hadn’t his master trusted him with everything?
- You’ll meet someday.
Laughing heartily until the last moment, taking his disciple’s strike...
- Someone who’ll understand all of you, walk the same path.
Ah, only in this moment did he finally grasp the reason for his life, something even he couldn’t affirm.
Wasn’t it because his master entrusted him with a dream? To create a more beautiful world, a better one.
Yes, exactly as Rain Ludwig said.
Teaching someone is one process of learning a parent’s or master’s heart.
“But what about the queen’s heart, entrusting everything to you?”
He wanted to help this guy.
Not because of master-disciple bonds, not even properly formed yet.
He wanted to see the future of this prince who shed tears for his people, threw himself for others.
“And your little brother, left alone?”
The dream’s end approached.
Cracks in the world began swallowing the horizon, endless lines of guards and soldiers blocking the way.
He just wished to reach him and shouted.
“You gonna abandon all this, leave it behind, and bail like this!”
He’d always lived wearing masks, hypocrite’s veils of pretense, so voicing true feelings was hard.
Hoping at least a bit of that sincerity reached through his cry.
Did that cry reach Ovin’s ears? The moment he saw Ovin’s eyes shake, the cracks spread across the whole world and shattered to pieces.
‘The dream.’
Valensidis’s consciousness went black too, and the next instant, his eyes snapped open amid intense heat.
‘The dream’s over. This is...’
The underground’s musty, damp air rippled... Desperate shouts poured into his recovering hearing.
“Get out of that barrier, Valensidis! The mutation’s done! Too late!”
“Wait, Miria! He’s got some plan.”
No, not too late.
Ovin, transformed into a primitive with a body nearly twice as big, charged at him.
Valensidis clamped Ovin’s mouth shut with a demonic hand, touching the necklace around Ovin’s neck with his right hand.
Great Mage Rigwind’s legacy, the Rate Light Stone.
“O chains of amplification, heed the call of caster Valensidis: expand your breadth, extend, and amplify that momentum!”
Great Mage Rigwind, aid your descendant. Let him return to normal.
If magic is the study of reason, incantations modeled on dragon tongue are the study of origins.
Valensidis, who had reached the absolute pinnacle of such incantations, for the first time made his own resemble true origins.
Wooong.
Rigwind’s Rate Light Stone—the gem said to refract the sun’s light into seven colors—blazed dazzling light, illuminating the underground.
A color somewhere sorrowful, mournful, joyful, and beautiful...
That light converged in one place. It wrapped Ovin, its current owner, in radiance.
“……!”
“……!”
“……!”
As the light left a blue afterimage on their retinas, Rain and Miria shielded their eyes, and then—crack—like rock splitting.
The primitive’s body shattered, and from the cracks, Ovin’s body slipped out smoothly.
Valensidis caught the falling Ovin and checked his heartbeat, but.
“M-Mother...”
Hearing the prince’s voice, tears pooling in his eyes, he finally relaxed.
Yes, he’s back... Such relief that his legs gave out for the first time in his life.
A rare, unguarded expression flickered on Valensidis’s face.
“Valensidis.”
Rain, about to say something like, *Seen a reckless guy like this?*, recalled upon seeing that expression.
The look on his own face when teaching Tureina, guiding Aki.
And how his comrades had smiled at him then, what they’d said.
And how he realized that smile was the one the dean wore guiding him.
“Did you gain some realization, like I said?”
Valensidis didn’t hide or conceal the expression. He just closed his eyes gently and nodded.
“Yeah, I’ve decided. I’ll teach Ovin properly.”
This was probably the first time he called Ovin by name. He’d always said “mute prince” before.
Ignoring Miria’s puzzled gaze, Valensidis scooped Ovin up in both arms.
The warmth in his face looking down at Ovin rivaled that brief glimpse at the <Delaiten> festival.
“So I’ll raise him into the talent to brighten this dark era. Even trash like me can serve as a counterexample.”
He was already steeped in darkness, unforgivable sins no water could wash away.
But this boy, mute yet never resenting or blaming his lot, who cried for others instead.
Maybe he could achieve what we dreamed of. That’s what Valensidis thought then.
“I sincerely thank you for the valuable lesson, Rain Ludwig.”