Chapter 206
Chapter 206
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 206
Chapter Title: Even If I Lose the Light 1
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The presence of people nearby fades away. Like a dying campfire, the warmth gradually cools, and darkness takes on substance, pressing down.
In that darkness, Azadin falls asleep as if fainting, pushed by hunger and exhaustion.
Regret and pain ceaselessly surge over him.
His life had been nothing but suffering. He had lived in solitude, unloved by anyone.
He had been wounded even by his sole blood kin, and abandoned by those he desperately loved.
Should he have condoned Hatir's atrocities instead?
If he had, Azadin would still have been a beloved disciple to Kazas, and to Aldis, he could have been cherished as a great benefactor.
He would have walked a smooth path within the clan, enjoying wealth and glory.
Of course, the price would have been massacring the innocent and unleashing evil powers upon the world, denying all that humanity had built.
But it wouldn't have been any worse than his current situation. At least, in terms of not being alone, it would have been somewhat better.
Should he have done that? What was the point of his foolish beliefs?
Azadin spent his time in the prison cell regretting and tormented.
How much time passed like that?
“Azadin!”
Someone called out to Azadin.
Had he been asleep?
The voice reaching his hazy consciousness was a familiar one.
“Are you okay, Azadin?”
“Don’t make noise, Midi’am. The area’s crawling with monsters.”
“But…”
Only then did Azadin focus his mind.
As his unique eyesight finally recovered, his surroundings came into view. Midi’am and Ismail were straining to pry open the prison door.
Amun-Zadek must have been dead set on killing Azadin, because the keyhole in the iron bars had been filled with lead, making it impossible to pick the lock.
In the end, Midi’am was grunting with a metal crowbar, trying to force the door.
“Give it here.”
Azadin rose to his feet.
With his left hand gone, he tried twisting the bars using only his right hand and the crowbar.
The iron bars bent, but not enough for a person to slip through. It would take quite a while to make a hole big enough for even one person.
“Hmm.”
He had gone so long without food or water that when he opened his mouth, his lips cracked and split.
Moving his body after so long was agonizing. The phantom pain he had forgotten in his delirium began to creep back, tormenting him once more.
Did he really want to get out like this? The world outside was filled only with suffering?
Wouldn’t it be better to just let go of life right now?
Azadin let out a sigh and set down the crowbar.
“Enough. Go.”
“What are you saying, Azadin?!”
“I’m done for anyway. Look.”
Azadin raised his left hand, where an amber fluid coated the severed stump.
“You know what it means for an archer like us to lose an arm, right?”
For those who wielded bows as their main weapon, loss of a limb was a fatal weakness. In the old days, Azadin would have had to retire as a Herald.
But Midi’am didn’t give up and asked,
“What does that matter? Are you saying you’ll give up over an injury like that?”
“I put on a brave front in front of you all, but in the end, I’m a pathetic failure. I’m not worth you betraying the clan for…”
Azadin trailed off, realizing his mistake mid-sentence.
Coming here to rescue him meant these children had betrayed the clan.
Wouldn’t it be too irresponsible to abandon them to despair and frustration on his own, after they had betrayed the clan because of his influence?
“Ha.”
Ismail saw through Azadin’s inner thoughts and gave a wry smile.
“You really are a good man.”
Even plunged in despair and frustration, his sense of responsibility toward Ismail and Midi’am came first.
“I get it. I have to take at least minimal responsibility.”
Azadin realized Ismail had seen through him and steeled his resolve once more.
Though his heart was shattered, he had duties to fulfill.
“At the very least, I have to take responsibility for these kids.”
Ismail handed Azadin a canteen and fruit preserved in sugar syrup.
“First, eat and drink to regain your strength.”
Putting water and food into a body drained by blood loss and imprisonment restored some vitality.
With his strength returning, Azadin gripped the crowbar again and tore out the bars.
Though weakened by injury and captivity, his superhuman strength remained, and he easily bent the bars aside and emerged. He looked at Midi’am and Ismail.
“So. What’s the situation?”
“The Nagas have taken Btuma and are steadily consuming the surrounding area.”
“And Amun-Zadek?”
“The Btumans have evacuated to Bel Hoda for now.”
“What about Scott and Shati?”
“We don’t know that far…”
“I see. How did you know I was here?”
“Well…”
“Scott sent a necromantic summons to let us know.”
“A necromantic summons?”
“Yeah. A corpse suddenly started dancing where we were, then drew a map on the floor.”
That sounded just like something Scott would do.
“Looks like he’s safe. Good. What about the King’s Church? What are the neighboring countries doing?”
“Korasar has fallen to the clan. The others…”
At that moment, the Emperor’s voice answered in Azadin’s place.
[The King’s Church and other kingdoms are all hesitant to intervene directly. It’s a burdensome distance for an expedition in the first place, and no one wants to waste their own troops just to take the first hit. That’s why I tried to unify Hivris…]
In other words, no one wanted to deplete their own forces first to resolve this crisis.
Who would volunteer to weaken their national power while competing with each other?
[Moreover, with one aspect of the King’s Radiance gone, the world’s boundaries are weakening. It’s not just Btuma—across all of Hivris, the King’s Radiance is fading, monsters are appearing, corpses are rising on their own, and the boundary between the living and the dead is in chaos. Hatir, that fatherless brat…]
“Hearing you say that feels a bit off.”
Azadin felt a strange sensation hearing the Emperor’s voice insult Hatir for being fatherless.
First off, was this voice the Emperor himself? No. It was an artificial spirit replicating the Emperor’s ego and soul, and it surely knew it wasn’t truly him.
Perhaps it was a side effect of the 108 fragments merging back into one due to the Herald clan’s betrayal?
That was Azadin’s only guess.
“Anyway, looks like I’m the last Herald of the Emperor left. Don’t I get a promotion?”
[From now on, all the Emperor’s voices are yours, Azadin. As long as you fulfill your mission as the Emperor’s Herald, we’ll support you with everything we have.]
“Hmm. Even with my hand gone? Back in the day, they’d have forced retirement on a guy like that right away. Guess the position’s really lost its appeal. The Emperor’s Herald spot.”
It was once a seat everyone clamored for, but could it fall this low?
The plummeting status of the Heralds drew a hollow laugh from him.
But as he laughed, a headache struck.
Phantom limb pain was ultimately torment of the brain. The brain, still trying to control a nonexistent limb, created agony, bringing excruciating headaches along with it.
Could he fulfill his duties as the Emperor’s Herald with a body like this?
Could he really push through, killing others, with a heart like this?
Azadin’s body and mind were both utterly broken, without exception.
The only reason he forced himself to move was to give Midi’am and Ismail a better situation.
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Azadin, Ismail, and Midi’am moved while holding their breath.
With the Heralds gone, the Emperor’s voice now aided only Azadin.
Thanks to it, the surrounding terrain was clearly visible in Azadin’s mind. The Emperor’s voice flew through the sky like a Foresight Bird, showing the landscape and enemy movements.
Surprisingly, fortresses and villages a bit removed from Btuma were swarming with all sorts of monsters.
Necromantic spirits that had parasitized the corpses of war wandered, killing the living to add them to their ranks. Even the war elephants abandoned by the Btuma army had Nether creatures parasitizing them, mutating their very flesh.
War elephants with massive eyes grown where their foreheads should be spewed octopus-like tentacles from their mouths, devouring nearby corpses.
And what of the royal castle?
A black hole gaped in the sky above Btuma’s royal castle.
Above the enormous black hole, an eye floated in the upper sky, and mountain-sized shadows prowled around the city at the boundary of reality and illusion, taking on form.
The entire atmosphere overflowed with Nether power.
Frankly, for Midi’am and Ismail to come this far was nearly suicidal.
“They’ve done something insane. No wonder everyone hates the Aragasa—even they have nothing to say.”
“What can you do? They hated us from the start. We’ve been hated without reason, so doesn’t this balance the scales?”
Ismail sneered. Truth be told, he didn’t care what happened to the Hivris people. He just couldn’t abandon Azadin to die.
“So, what now, Azadin?”
“Let’s head to a safe place first.”
“Yes. And then?”
And after that? After evacuating to safety?
“You two need to be safe.”
That was all Azadin repeated.
Ismail sighed.
“You’re not thinking that since we betrayed the clan for you, evacuating us to safety fulfills your responsibility to us, are you?”
“Yeah. Sorry, but that’s right.”
“Is that really the best you can do?”
“Reclaim Btuma’s Royal Throne—or destroy it. There might be ways, but they’re impossible. The Emperor’s voice is showing me. This world is dying.”
“If that’s all there is to it, Azadin, I’m disappointed in you. Do you know how much we suffered to get here? And you think you can just evacuate us to safety and call it fulfilling your duty?”
“But I’m no savior or anything. Just Azadin, half of Mu-an.”
Azadin gave a wry smile and raised his severed hand.
“Now I can’t even draw a bow. In the end, I failed. I lost.”
“Then why try to evacuate us to safety?”
“Because even a loser can manage that much.”
It was then that Azadin said this.
Midi’am suddenly asked,
“Azadin. Are the stars still beautiful to you?”
It was a sudden question.
But both the asker and the one asked knew its meaning well.