Chapter 59
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Real Family
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Back when I was little, I admired my sisters.
I had no choice but to.
We shared the same high elf bloodline, yet I was a child who couldn't accomplish anything, while my sisters excelled at everything.
Especially Elcia. She was different.
She had been recognized early as the Hero of the Bow and marked as the next queen of the elf kingdom even before I was born.
To me, Elcia wasn't just a sister—she was an idol I couldn't even dream of comparing myself to.
"Hey, the idiot Aira's over there!"
"Found the useless one! Let's poke her with needles and mess with her."
"...Do whatever you want if it amuses you."
I still remember their tone and expressions vividly.
Even when I was treated like I didn't exist in the palace, those three were the only ones who acknowledged me.
Belcia, Celcia, and Elcia.
Every day, I was hit, pinched, and teased.
It hurt. It made me want to cry.
But I smiled anyway.
Because I was grateful to have people paying attention to me, even like this.
I convinced myself that this was their way of showing love and endured day by day.
I wanted to believe I was loved, that there were people in this world who treated me like a real person.
I tried desperately to keep up with them somehow.
Until the moment I realized that belief was a lie—and learned what true love really was.
"You're a special person, Aira."
The one who restored my eyes, which I thought I'd never see with again, and fixed my mouth, which I believed would stay silent forever.
Master Lucas told me that.
"Ahem! If anything's bothering you, just tell me, Aira! I'm the head maid of this annex, after all!"
Piel was clumsy at maid work in every way compared to me, but she approached me more kindly than anyone and taught me everything from one to ten with utmost sincerity.
Learning and laughing together with her, who felt like a little sister, I felt another person's warmth for the first time.
"And yet you didn't give up. That's why you still deserve to be called a princess. Princess Aira."
Princess Evelyn, who held onto my pride—even after I was exiled from the kingdom and fell to slave status—until the very end.
She taught me what it meant to have the dignity of a princess.
What I'd received from these three people was a gratitude beyond words.
From Piel, the warmth of human body heat.
From Princess Evelyn, my dignity as royalty.
And above all, from Master Lucas, who had led me to this point, a warmth I could never trade for anything.
A love that made me believe I could weather the world even if it turned to hell, as long as I was with him.
It was the first time I'd ever experienced such love.
So now, I absolutely could not lose.
Not for the people who believed in me.
And especially not to those fake sisters connected only by blood.
Not here.
This time, I will win.
Kiririk...!
It wasn't the sound of air tearing—it was the world itself grinding its teeth.
"She's blocking Apollo's Arrow?!"
"Guh... Guh... Graaaaaah!!"
Screams filled the space.
In the Proxy Blood Fate arena, an unbelievable silence descended.
It didn't matter if they were from the elf kingdom or the Argent family.
No one could draw a deep breath; they just stared blankly at the end of this fight.
Just like that moment in the past when Piel and the Black Iron Knight exchanged their final Proxy Blood Fate.
Apollo.
The absolute strike that compressed all the power of Artemis and the high elf Hero of the Bow into a single point and unleashed it.
It was on another level entirely from before.
Even if you could see its trajectory, the moment it touched you, "pierced through" was the only outcome imaginable.
To block something like that, you'd need the legendary Hero of the Shield—or something on that level.
And yet.
Aira was enduring Apollo's strike head-on—the one that devoured the world's light whole—both hands gripping daggers.
She hadn't dodged or deflected it.
She clashed with it.
Every time the invisible arrow met the jet-black dagger, the air tore and mana itself screamed.
Elcia felt suffocated.
One arm hung limp from the recoil of firing Apollo, but that was irrelevant now.
Terror covered her face for the first time.
"H-how... exactly..."
Her voice trembled.
"How can you block Apollo?!"
She'd suspected Aira's physical abilities had risen to an abnormal degree.
But this crossed the line.
No—how much power, what kind of magic could even produce that monstrous strength?
And yet.
What captured Elcia's gaze wasn't Aira's power itself.
It was the jet-black dagger she gripped.
Design-wise, it was a fairly refined weapon.
But that was all—"a nice-looking dagger."
And yet it had clashed head-on with Apollo and wasn't even slightly chipped?
The hero's ultimate, strongest strike.
Theoretically, unless it was the symbolic armament of an equivalent hero, even the finest iron would shatter on contact.
But that dagger rejected that outcome entirely, remaining pristine.
'What is that thing?'
Countless questions flooded Elcia's mind.
But ironically, that dagger wasn't originally such a powerful weapon.
"Here, Aira. This is the gear you'll use from now on."
"This is... a dagger?"
"Yeah. It's called Grip Iron—a pretty common low-grade artifact in the East."
About two weeks before the Proxy Blood Fate.
Lucas looked down at the dagger for a moment.
As if seeing not just Aira, but the potential within it.
"Still, I thought nothing would suit you better. If you don't like it, I can swap it out."
"No!"
Aira didn't hesitate for a second.
"If Master Lucas gave it to me, there must be a reason. I'll... fight with this!"
And so, the first piece of equipment handed to her by her master.
Grip Iron.
It was an artifact engraved with a special ability, but among treasure-level gear, it was definitely low-grade.
Something even an imperial princess could acquire in less than a day.
The reason was simple.
Grip Iron had only one ability.
Its durability increased in proportion to the strength of the user holding it.
It couldn't shoot fire or split lightning.
It wouldn't burn the battlefield alone or turn the tide with a single blow.
It was merely a weapon that wouldn't break.
While other artifacts devoured battlefields on their own, Grip Iron only mattered in the user's grasp.
But.
When that "gripping strength" belonged to Aira, its simple ability could no longer be called low-grade.
Just like right now.
"Grr... Raaaaaaaagh!!"
Clang!!
It wasn't the sound of metal.
It was the world being repelled.
"Apollo..."
"She repelled it?!"
The formless arrow, which seemed to warp space, was struck upward by the force Aira thrust out.
In that instant, an impact erupted like slamming down a massive iron slab—not with the dagger.
The air tore, a storm raged, and the sky over Argent territory was pierced clean through.
A massive wound lingered above the clouds.
And.
Everyone present lost their breath as they gazed at Aira, who had deflected that strike in one blow.
Astoundment.
No other word came to mind.
Especially on Erdus's face—which had been filled with awe just moments ago—all color drained away.
"King Erdus?"
"Hah... Haah...!"
The old king couldn't breathe properly.
At first, he'd thought she was just a somewhat useful child.
But what he saw now was an overwhelming power that repelled even that legendary strike, once called the pride of high elves.
In that moment, Erdus's memory was dragged back to the past.
To the elf forest, where that monstrous being had forced even him—worshipped like a god—to his knees, spared him on a whim, and imprinted both humiliation and gratitude at once.
His own exiled sister, who left no trace in any elf records.
In the daughter before his eyes, Erdus saw that day's "power."
That was when.
"Not yet!"
Elcia shouted.
Her body already broken beyond repair.
Yet she raised her remaining arm to the sky and screamed almost hysterically.
"Apollo doesn't vanish until it hits the opponent!"
Her bloodshot eyes stabbed toward Aira.
"It's coming back! The judgment of the gods will pursue you to the end, Aira!!"
A cry bordering on a shriek.
But.
Those words weren't a threat.
They were just the final excuse of someone refusing to accept defeat.
Shoooo!
From beyond the tear in the sky, the white meteor fell once more.
"Ah, it's coming back down!"
"Yes! Crush that defective good—"
Belcia and Celcia's eyes sparkled.
In that instant.
Flash!
"...Huh?"
Aira didn't run.
Instead, she leaped straight toward Apollo.
And just before it touched her body, she seized the high elf's ultimate strike—which had already exhausted its power—with her bare hands.
Sizzle...
The sound of skin burning.
Mana screamed.
"Ngh... Nraaaaaagh!!"
Even so, Aira didn't let go.
As if that arrow had been hers from the beginning.
"Wha... Wh-what?!"
"El-Elcia sis—!"
"D-dodge it!!"
The next moment.
Aira twisted her body.
And thrust that arrow toward its shooter... no, toward the ground beneath where she had collapsed.
With all her might.
Kwaaaaang—!!
The fight was over.