Chapter 785: Death and Rebirth
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 785: Death and Rebirth
Faint white flames drifted across the sky, dotting the distant firmament like countless newborn stars. The spatial turbulence that had blockaded the Abyss vanished completely with the destruction of the Eternal Cycle. For the first time, the entire Abyss beheld a night sky so clear and pristine.
"Am I dreaming?"
Lorne couldn't help but lose himself in the lofty, tranquil beauty of the starlight. Since becoming Duke Campbell, the place he had spent the most time in—aside from the Royal Capital—was this very Dolonslei Fortress. Yet, in the dozen or so years he had been here, and perhaps since the day the fortress was first built, it had never once been bathed in starlight.
And it wasn't just starlight. One could imagine that in the long days to come, moonlight, sunlight, and every other kind of radiance in the world would shine fairly upon every stone of the castle and every inch of the Abyss's soil.
"What on earth happened?"
Lorne lowered his gaze. Like the countless soldiers filled with wonder, he leaned over the city wall, his expression dazed.
In his field of vision, the chains that had once blotted out the sky had all vanished. He could see countless soul fires rising.
What the ordinary soldiers saw, however, were countless corpses falling.
As those bodies landed, they decomposed at a rate visible to the naked eye, quickly returning to the earth.
"Lord Duke! Lord Duke!"
Donnik rushed onto the city wall in a frantic state. "I’ve finished mobilizing the supplies! I... eh?"
He froze halfway, his bald head swiveling as he looked at the soldiers staring at him with strange expressions, then at the grim-faced Duke...
"Wha... what’s going on? Why is everyone so relaxed? Are we not fighting anymore?"
"Fight my ass!"
Lorne smacked Donnik on the forehead. "I told you to be a bit smarter, but you just show up to embarrass yourself the moment something happens!"
"Huh?"
"The war is over."
"HUH?!?!"
Donnik scratched his head, more confused than ever. From his perspective, the Duke had just ordered him to mobilize every scrap of supplies, acting as if he were ready to fight to the death... and then, in the blink of an eye, he was told the war was over?
Who was the one who wasn't smart here?
"What are you 'huh-ing' for? It’s just as well that the supplies are up here. Go distribute the food, treat the wounded, and clean up the battlefield. The men are exhausted; they can finally get some proper rest."
"Oh, oh!"
Donnik finally snapped out of it and hurried back the way he came.
But after two steps, he turned back, looking lost again.
"Wait, Lord Duke, doesn't Verner usually handle these chores? Where is Verner?"
Donnik looked left and right. That fellow who was usually so mysterious and eccentric, yet always popped up at critical moments, was nowhere to be found.
"Verner..."
Lorne paused, then looked at the empty stone floor of the city wall. There was only a faint silhouette there, a lingering trace of a human outline.
"The war is over. That guy... has probably gone to start a new journey of his own."
*
"The stars..."
The Grand Duke of Collapse sighed toward the heavens. "I had long forgotten what the real starry sky looked like. The only information I had about them came from the records in those tattered ancient books... It truly is beautiful."
"It is beautiful, but this isn't the best it gets. The stars seen from the desert are the most magnificent—clear as a mirror, distant as a dream."
The Indra King pressed his palms together and said softly, "When I was practicing my austerities in the desert, I could never help but look up at the stars."
"Is that so? It sounds lovely. A pity I won't be able to see it."
"...Can even a Crowned powerhouse not defy death in this moment?"
The Indra King couldn't help but speak as he watched the Grand Duke of Collapse’s body gradually dissipate like grains of sand, his soul rising toward the sky while his physical form returned to the earth.
After the battles of the past few days, he had actually developed a sense of mutual respect for the man, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret.
"Of course not," Collapse replied with a faint smile, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes as deep as blade scars.
"In this entire Abyss, whether it is a high and mighty Demon Grand Duke or a lowly Demon who suffers every humiliation, no matter how much inequality exists between them, death is the only thing that is absolutely fair. No one can escape it."
"I see..."
The Indra King nodded slightly. "The cycle of life and death cannot be defied. You have been separated from this world for too long; it is time to return."
"Yes... it has been far too long."
The Grand Duke of Collapse closed his eyes, waiting for the moment to arrive.
But at the final threshold, he couldn't help but hesitate, asking the Indra King:
"For you humans, what is true rebirth like?"
"True rebirth?"
The Indra King blinked, then thought of a certain tender and cute figure. A smile touched his lips, and even his weathered face softened considerably.
"In my view, true rebirth is a very beautiful thing."
"Is that so..."
The Grand Duke of Collapse smiled as well.
"Then I am no longer afraid."
*
"Haha, I'm dying!"
In the middle of a deserted, dilapidated marketplace, an elderly Ratman suddenly erupted into a jubilant cheer.
After almost all the Demon souls had been taken away by the previous chains of the Eternal Cycle, he had somehow managed to remain on the surface for a little longer.
The surroundings were empty. The few remaining Demons who hadn't been taken were gradually turning into ash. Yet, at this moment, he was more excited and thrilled than he had been at any point in the last few hundred years.
"I'm dying! I'm finally dying!! Truly dying!!!"
He limped along, scurrying back to his hidden sanctuary.
He pushed aside the wooden shelves holding his collection. The precious items he had traded for over the years crashed to the floor, but he didn't care in the slightest.
Once the shelves were moved, the object hidden in the floor cavity was finally revealed... it was a coffin!
The Ratman panted heavily. His old, decaying body was on the verge of collapse after such intense exertion, but it didn't slow him down.
"I've waited so long. I finally... I finally have a use for you." With tears in his eyes, he gently stroked the smooth, dark lid of the coffin.
As a remnant of the Ratman race and a wanted criminal personally ordered for execution by Divine Will, he had spent these years hiding and fleeing. He had risked his life to trade goods and exchange resources all for the sake of... this single coffin.
Because he vaguely remembered... even after several cycles of reincarnation, he vaguely remembered that a thousand years ago, when humans died, they were buried in coffins.
Yes, they were buried in coffins.
Reincarnation with blurred memories—this strange form of immortality—had ultimately made death casual and meaningless. Naturally, the current Demon race had no such tradition.
"But I haven't forgotten. I still haven't forgotten..."
The elderly Ratman struggled to push open the lid, climbed inside, and then slowly pulled the lid shut from within.
His final strength was spent. He lay in the coffin, a smile on his face, staring into the endless darkness.
"I am human, not a Demon... I always have been."
*
The Empire. The Campbell Territory. A certain estate.
The night sky was thick with darkness, but the estate was brightly lit.
Numerous maids hurried through the grounds, their expressions anxious and their steps urgent. They carried towels or hot water, the tension on their faces impossible to hide.
Outside the room deep within the estate, the scene was even more chaotic and busy. The finest female doctors were on standby, a row of old midwives stood ready, and even a priest and a nun from the Life Church had been invited and were currently praying outside the door.
However, the priest's expression was currently quite strained. He kept wiping sweat from his forehead, glancing at the door and then at the maids, his eyes full of bitterness and difficulty.
"Lord Priest, is there really no better way?"
The former head maid, her silver hair combed into a meticulous bun, spoke once more.
As the most senior maid who had raised Duke Lorne, she had resigned after the previous incident at the Duke's Estate, handing her position to An and returning to her hometown to retire. However, faced with the Duchess giving birth while the Duke was away, she had stepped up. Despite the chaotic scene, everything remained orderly under her direction.
Yet, this maid—who had met many great figures alongside Duke Lorne and had even brewed black tea for the previous Emperor—now looked at the priest with a rare plea in her eyes.
"I beg of you. You are the most outstanding priest in the Campbell Territory. Surely there must be another way in a situation like this."
"I... I wish there was, but this isn't a matter of having a 'way' or not!"
The priest looked like he was about to cry as he said helplessly:
"Blessings, prayers, Holy Light healing—I can do all of those, and I can do them exceptionally well. But I simply cannot guarantee that both mother and child will survive because... because who on earth stays pregnant for eighteen months?!"
The priest finally understood why the Bishop in charge of this region, upon hearing that Duchess Campbell was finally going into labor, had immediately announced at top speed that he was going on a pilgrimage to the Holy City to study.
When Duchess Campbell encountered difficulties that doctors and midwives couldn't solve, they would naturally seek help from the Life Church. The Bishop had foreseen this long ago.
But even if the Bishop had come in person, what could he have done?
In truth, it wasn't that the Life Church didn't want to help. They were very willing. Whether it was for the favor of a Duchess or the relationship between the heir of Campbell and the Church, they had no reason to refuse.
But as everyone knew, the Campbell family was bound by a certain "Single Heir" curse. Every generation produced a Crowned powerhouse, but only one. Every Duke Campbell was an only child!
So, when the news of the Duchess's pregnancy reached the Church, they had reached a conclusion: if Muen Campbell hadn't been beaten to death for two-timing before the Duchess gave birth, then this child... was most likely a stillbirth resulting from some anomaly!
A pregnancy lasting a full eighteen months only confirmed this theory!
Therefore...
"There really... really is no way. My suggestion is still to abandon the stillborn child to ensure the safety of the Duchess. She has been in obstructed labor for so long; if this continues..."
"Shut up!!"
A sudden roar of anger interrupted the priest's sincere persuasion.
Inside the room, Noyce gripped the bedsheets tightly, her face drenched in cold sweat, but her eyes remained filled with unshakable determination.
"The child hasn't even been born yet! Who are you to decide it's a stillbirth? I felt the baby moving in my belly myself! You bastard haven't even been pregnant, so what are you talking nonsense for?"
At this critical juncture, she finally cast aside the elegance of a Duchess and returned to the dominance of her youth.
"I am not talking nonsense; I am concerned for your safety, Madam..."
"What does this count for..."
Noyce gritted her teeth. "It's just giving birth. This is way easier than when I used to beat those seductive vixens to a pulp! I'll show you a birth today!"
"..."
Outside the room, the priest let out a long sigh.
As expected of the Duchess; her courage and determination were indeed admirable. But many things could not be solved by courage, determination, or fists.
Some things were simply beyond help...
"Lord Priest."
Just then, the nun beside the priest suddenly tugged at his sleeve.
"Look, shooting stars."
"Shooting stars?"
The priest instinctively turned his head. Sure enough, several meteors were silently streaking across the horizon. Though they vanished in an instant, they were beautiful enough to make one sigh.
"Strange, the Astral Observatory didn't issue any notice about a meteor shower recently. This would have been a perfect time for proselytizing... No! Now is not the time for that!"
The priest snapped back to reality. Business first. He continued to plead with the head maid:
"Truly, Madam Head Maid, you should persuade the Duchess. If something happens to her because she's forcing it, how will any of us explain it to Duke Lorne, who is far away at the border defending the Empire? Stubbornness is sometimes a good thing, but other times..."
"Waaaaah—"
But at that moment, a sudden, tender cry once again interrupted the priest's advice. The cry was as powerful as the previous roar, yet even more resonant, echoing through the entire estate under the night sky.
The priest froze.
The nun froze.
Even the head maid froze.
However, the head maid was the first to react, spinning around and rushing into the room.
The crowd outside grew restless, but they were kept back, forced to wait.
A moment later, amidst an atmosphere so tense it felt as if everyone would suffocate, the head maid’s solemn yet uncontrollably excited announcement, accompanied by that healthy, vigorous crying, finally reached everyone's ears.
"It's a girl! Both mother and daughter are safe!"
"Whoo!"
Everyone erupted into excited cheers. Some of the more stressed maids even wept with joy, embracing one another.
The priest stood dazed, watching it all, feeling as if it were surreal.
Something that was clearly impossible, something that seemed destined from the start, why had there suddenly been a turn for the better?
Was it a coincidence, or some kind of destiny?
Thinking this, he suddenly turned and pressed his palms together toward the sky.
"Lord Priest, what are you doing?"
"Praying."
"Praying?" the nun asked in confusion. "But there is no statue of the Goddess here."
"I am not praying to the Goddess."
The priest’s expression was solemn as he said seriously:
"I am praying to... this miraculous rebirth."