Chapter 222
Chapter 222
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 222
Chapter Title: Putting an End to Our Story
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Watching Valensidis and Obin grow close during our journey to Solondro inevitably brought back distant memories from long ago.
Obin reminded me of Tureina.
He was the first to rise and check on the campfire, helping with food prep during night watches—taken in turns by Rain, Miria, and Valensidis.
"Ah, br-breakfast is ready."
After that, he stuck to Valensidis like glue, diligently learning magic. He lacked genius talent, but his enthusiasm was infectious.
"Use a quadratic equation to solve for the answer."
As a teacher, nothing is more rewarding than seeing a disciple's passion.
Valensidis, who always seemed to wear a mask, now smiled comfortably more often.
Just like I had in the past.
"Look at that, Nen. Nice atmosphere, right?"
"Aruu."
Watching with Setsunen, I asked Miria, who had sidled up unnoticed.
"What's with that look on your face?"
Miria bit her lip hesitantly, took a shallow breath, and met my eyes squarely.
"The letter Rista left... I think it's right to tell you about it."
That train of thought was shattered by an ominous ripple.
A dark blue wave swept low across the city streets, and from the palace direction, a pillar of malice shot up into the sky.
Just like 300 years ago—Neigalas's power was awakening... Cold sweat beaded on my forehead.
'Has Rigwind's barrier vanished?'
The ground trembled as if about to collapse.
Shifting strata.
Structures toppling from both sides, tangling together on the main road, amplifying the chaos.
"The Starfall Array is moments from activation."
"No time to chat—run!"
It was a disaster, yet the reactions of Baran citizens and soldiers were oddly subdued.
Eyes unfocused, staring blankly somewhere, lips moving in some hummed melody.
Identical to the primal, malevolent tune emanating from Neigalas's light pillar.
"If that's activated, Obin's sister..."
At Miria's mutter, Obin gripped his Thousand-Pace Stick tightly, body shuddering.
We couldn't know exactly what was happening in the inner palace, but haste was essential.
If that power fully awakened, the array's center would be the first eroded by the abyss.
'If only we could hurry...'
A structure ahead shimmered like a heat haze, then shattered with a burst of glass—the midsection severed.
'There you are, as expected.'
In the instant I clenched my right fist, dozens of Jesa Saryeonyeon's chains deployed.
Chains reinforced the collapsing structure's steel frame, halting the fall. They shielded dazed citizens from debris.
Simultaneously, I pulled Shalesaroom's dragon scale from Ceresia's subspatial pouch and tossed it to Valensidis.
"It's yours now, Valensidis."
If Rista struck first, this was our prearranged plan.
"So let's protect each other."
Among us three, only I could face Rista.
"Help her avoid evil deeds."
Only I could keep the promise with Rista—and I must.
"Grant her soul peace. Let it reach the gods' embrace."
Valensidis excelled at infiltration.
She could deliver Shalesaroom's dragon scale to the array's center without clashing directly with Elamas.
It was her plan from the start—a proposal I could only gratefully accept.
"Go, now!"
I barked at Obin, who hesitated a moment. Steady your pounding heart now.
You, and me too.
The foe isn't the real Rista. She's long dead—this is just a manipulated husk.
"You're here, Rista."
I couldn't think so resolutely.
The instant I saw the white-haired swordswoman step from the dust cloud, her cold face overlapped with old Rista's smile.
Even if I didn't want it.
No.
Perhaps, deep down, I'd wished my whole life to meet again like this.
"I am Rista Alter Shyrfang! FakeWarrior of the Light Dragon Church."
So.
Right now.
I had to change how I fought her. Reset my mindset.
"Let's end it."
A smile—joyful yet sad, glad yet bittersweet—formed unbidden.
"This story that's dragged on for 300 years."
I drew a slow breath to steady that joy, sorrow, gladness, bitterness.
With a gentle sweep of my fingers, flames roared—whoosh—shaping into a spear gripped comfortably in my hand.
Thus, I aimed at Rista with the spearmanship she'd taught me, speaking to the long-dead Rista—and to myself.
"Our story."
We.
Our fate.
Might only allow reunion in this form.
"Mindset construct, Flow Venerable: Radiant Thunderflame."
* * *
'Demon Sword...'
Miria felt the broken blade at her waist pulsing relentlessly.
'Does Demon Slayer wish to fight Rista now...?'
No—wishes to grant her peace. And perhaps aid Lin.
As a former comrade, like family.
But I have my mission. Rain would say the same.
"Miria."
Is some fragment of Rista's soul in mine, making him gnaw at me like this?
No, not that.
Unlike him, I have no memories as Rista. Why he preoccupies me is...
"You don't have to cry anymore."
As Miria bit her lip to steel herself, Valensidis—who ran ahead—spoke.
"Go on."
"What?"
"Even if we trick Elamas and dismantle the array, that's it. We can't beat the apostle with our power."
"We'd have to try..."
"No need. I know. Realistic judgment. Better if she finishes the hero quick and joins. Plus, you reek of goblin— you'd hinder stealth."
"This is really..."
Perhaps that moment was the first and last time those two smiled as comrades.
"Obin, go ahead and wait! I'll fetch that idiot quick!"
Dire straits for everyone, yet Obin beamed and nodded.
Miria slammed her heel into the ground, braking her sprint. Pavestones scorched and smoked beneath her feet as she wheeled back.
'Coming now, Rain.'
Not because I'm Rista and you're Lin. This choice is purely...
"Fake, fake, fake."
Then a warm voice—achingly familiar—settled over Miria's head.
"Pipi?"
Pipi flapped its wings in reply. Exhausted from full-tilt flight, it showed.
"Lin, Lin, Lin needs help, Lin."
"Not Lin—Rain."
Miria drew Demon Sword from its scabbard.
Cold energy flowed from the hilt through her hand, flooding her body.
Strength and reflexes surged abnormally. Crimson aura blazed along the broken blade, sword beam sprouting fiercely.
"Right, Pipi?"
Miria winked her left eye at Pipi on her shoulder—like Rista once did.
After their first meeting, Miria never grew close to Pipi. No effort made—due to that eerie, grating dissonance.
Pipi kept distance too, sensing the same... but now.
"Real, real, real."
Pipi rubbed its beak against Miria's cheek. Affection shown only to Rain.
"Anyway, Pipi—you being here means...!"
* * *
'Misjudged?'
No—better this way.
Valensidis swung Kashasur repeatedly, leaping dimensions.
Dodging collapsed paths and Dawn Brigade stragglers, but limits loomed.
"This toss lands... heads. Ha, prophecy: every arrow I loose from now hits."
Kartpirim's #1 and #2.
Fairy hero-spirits blocking the palace path.
Just two warriors on the broad street, yet pressure like a mountain crushing shoulders.
'Fel, the heretic fairy warrior.'
Fairy warriors prized spear and shield as virtues, scorning bows as cowardly ranged arms.
"Hold tight, Obin."
Fel gained continent-shaking fame as marksman—revered by humans, despised by fairies.
"This is the first hurdle."
Impressive, but nothing next to her companion. Breath-catching terror.
'Elamas's paladin, Snir...'
Arrows arcing unnaturally pursued relentlessly—even as she dimension-hopped with Obin.
"This archery is insane..."
Beyond humanity's wildest dreams?
Distracted dodging, Snir flanked behind unseen—spear shaft incoming.
Last words in fairy tongue.
"Hate me if you like, prince of the fallen kingdom."
End there?
Spear would pierce Valensidis's shoulder, then Obin's throat beyond.
But then—a massive spear, barely a spear, flew in with immense mass, deflecting it.
"......!"
Snir's unyielding face twitched brows up.
The deflector... a colossal weapon, wieldable?
Clad in black plate gleaming dully in faint sunlight: Bart, spear in hand.
"Go, Valensidis!"
Then Fel's arrow—aimed at her chest—shot down by a sudden interloper.
"Hm?"
Intercepted my arrow?
Fel tilted head in disbelief, pride stung.
Pure azure flashes—three in succession—at Fel.
"Go now, quick!"
From death's door, Valensidis's heart echoed Rain's voice.
"Not my comrade. Ours?"
Knew all along, anticipated this?
Amusing.
Brief sentiment amid crisis—back to pragmatism.
'Impossible realistically.'
Only if those two outmatch Snir and Fel could they hold and clear path.
Buy time at best—pursuit inevitable... Fight together here?
Then Obin dashed forward, snatching a fallen stick.
"......?!"
Wedged between legs, chanting spell—slurred, stuttering, yet perfectly embodying Valensidis's lessons.
Staff empowered, body launched skyward. Obin looked down, yelling.
"The sky, the skyyy, hoooot!"
Seeing that—those words—electrifying感動 pierced Valensidis's mind.
"Obin..."
Fel loosed ten arrows skyward, clicking tongue.
"No way—that mute flies like a witch?"
Lem downed six, four pursued... but.
Valensidis ascended first, opening dimension—banishing them.
Brief eye contact. Valensidis shouted.
"Let's go, Obin!"
Sky route draws eyes—poor for stealth, but best escape now.
Gazing at disciple, who reached same conclusion first.
Flight still clumsy, imperfect—yet unyielding, unflagging ahead.
"Take your disciple, Valensidis."
She realized she was smiling.
Luxury emotion—unshed since killing master 14 years ago, forbidden, unthinkable forever.
Reviving at heart's core.
"Will be an irreplaceable experience in your life."
Obin and Valensidis soared over city skies toward inner palace, abyss pillar intensifying.
To Asahat Mausoleum, where Princess Obira played ocarina.
Young princess blew relentlessly—final movement left. Sweat and saliva rained.
Deceived by sweet promises of throne, ignorant her regent Predal—Ellamas follower—primordializing.
All present sang grotesque song, warping hideously—Elamas alone smiled contentedly.
"Obiraaaaa!"
Obin dove from sky, tackling her—snapping near-finished performance.
Reunited after years, he cradled sister tight, tumbling mausoleum grass.
Momentum halted; Obira blinked dazed.
Recognized sole family's voice, scent—began sobbing.
Ellamas's smile vanished.
'How—?'
Incompetents—what? Sent that mute prince here?
'Royal voluntary will needed to break Rigwind barrier... this ruins it.'
That confusion—Valensidis's plan.
From Ellamas's blind spot, center-landed, she drew Shalesaroom's dragon scale.
Instantly, red true dragon scale blazed fiercer than any worldly flame.
"It's over."
Transcendent blaze spread array-wide, incinerating inscribed foul, vicious runes.
"That mute human prince you scorned so much—he won."