EP.150 Superhuman, Just a Human (5)
The sound of a life shattering was horrific. A dry laugh echoed across the snowy plains. It sounded like something being torn apart.
Draka laughed like a madman for a while.
Just how long did he laugh?
Thud.
The laughter suddenly stopped.
Draka hung his head. He stared blankly at the dark stain on the snow. There was no longer any heat in his eyes as before.
‘He must have lost all purpose and determination.’
Pride shattered.
Dreams were in pieces.
Nothing remained for him. I fell silent, glancing at Draka’s hollow, empty eyes.
『The contract is established.』
The star did not remain silent.
It calmly whispered the results of the transaction. I listened with one ear and let it slip through the other. It wasn’t worth remembering since it was already known to me. I merely looked at the superhuman in front of me.
“…Tsk.”
I clicked my tongue unnecessarily.
He was a character who deserved to die, and it was a situation that could be called karma… yet still, the bitterness in my mouth couldn’t be helped.
‘Would it have changed if I had spoken more clearly?’
I considered this meaningless hypothesis.
After all, the facts I could communicate were just a handful. I couldn’t even pronounce most of the knowledge I’d gained from the library left by Cardi.
‘Even if I explain it vaguely and roundabout…’
The Sword Demon wouldn’t have listened to me.
As those close to achieving their long-held desires tend to do, the Sword Demon’s eyes were already distant.
‘A life merely walking toward a predetermined tragedy.’
I felt a twinge of sympathy for that life, yet recalling Draka’s past made me feel a truly ambiguous sentiment. It couldn’t quite be summarized in one word.
‘How novel…’
Such is the way of the world.
Recently, everything had been resolved so neatly that I had momentarily forgotten.
‘Such things were common on the battlefield.’
There, everything was inherently messy.
Everyone has a story. Many have experienced tragedy. It was not a pleasant experience burying the betrayers who had turned in their own tragedy. Absolutely not.
“I am not a superhuman like you, Ashen.”
“No matter how hard I try, I cannot reach that level. Because I cannot reach it, we will just be sacrificed like consumables. For none other than you! For you, for you!”
“…”
“I also wanted to live for myself.”
“I wanted to live a life that wasn’t sacrificed for the sake of a generation, a life where I could be the master… That was all I wanted.”
I closed my eyes for a moment.
An uncomfortable feeling settled within me.
However, that wouldn’t last long. It was nothing new. People wear down through experience.
“…Huh.”
I exhaled briefly.
The bitterness in my mouth and the chaos in my head were things that needed to be done. Just as it always had been.
“Contract.”
I spoke.
To my voice, the starlight responded.
『Command me.』
It was a subservience created by the establishment of a contract.
Draka, whose self-awareness was obliterated, would become a puppet moving according to my will. He would follow any command. I issued my order.
“Deprivation.”
Draka’s body drooped like a marionette with cut strings.
‘What’s left…’
I might as well contact Kalt.
I couldn’t just hand Draka over to the armor-clad Knight Commander right away. I pulled a letter from my pocket.
“Encounter with the Sword Demon, Draka, in the North.”
I paused writing the letter. Kalt had responded in shock, but I didn’t pay attention to it.
Finally, I looked at the Sword Demon.
The Sword Superhuman, the superhuman.
‘What is a superhuman?’
They are those who have surpassed the limits of humanity.
Because they have transcended humanity, they are called superhumans.
They accomplish things that humans cannot do.
‘But…’
Even so, the superhuman is still human.
Just an ordinary human living bound by the rules of the stars.
‘That’s why it holds meaning, right?’
A single phrase left by Uncle Kuntel.
I mulled over the meaning within the line. It tasted different from when I first saw it.
2.
Time passes.
Incidents are gradually resolved.
The Warriors of the North captured the Holy Knights alive. Berlang, known as the Impenetrable, gazed upon the corpse of the Cardinal with hollowed eyes and then cooperated with the Warriors of the North.
“We are the Betrayers.”
“We attempted an unholy act.”
“We merely borrowed the name of the Deloheim Church.”
They referred to themselves as Betrayers.
They testified that it was an independent action entirely unrelated to the Deloheim Church… but no one believed those words. No one believed them, but the Deloheim Church permanently excommunicated them.
‘They cut off the tail.’
Everyone thought so.
Suspicion turned toward the Church in society. The Church denied any association, ultimately paying a hefty compensation to the North.
“Crazy, huh?”
However, Eryhal didn’t stop there.
He smashed the table where the Church’s high priests gathered with his bare fist and issued a threat.
“There are berserkers in the North. They know only battle. Those berserkers are not under my control. If they invade the Church, it won’t be the North’s fault, will it?”
He gestured with his chin.
“Coincidentally, one is here.”
The first of thirteen warriors.
Berek of Frenzy.
“Even if Berek kills all of you here, I won’t bear any responsibility. Am I right?”
The faces of the Church’s high priests turned pale.
“Well, I suppose I can afford to pay a compensation or two.”
Eryhal snapped his fingers.
Berek walked toward the table. The pale high priests hurriedly added conditions. Eryhal, glancing at that, added one last word.
“Don’t ever set foot in the North again.”
If the warning is ignored…
“The North will engage in an all-out war with the Deloheim Church.”
It wasn’t an empty threat. Knowing this, the high priests broke out in a cold sweat and nodded in agreement. Thus, as the incident wound down in the Deloheim Church’s homeland…
“No, have you lost your mind? Senior?”
“Damn it, there’s no way to express this. Are you insane?”
A rough wind blew over the North.
*
“Respected senior.”
“Yeah.”
“I trust you immensely. I think you are a very rational, calculative, and cold-blooded mage.”
“I can be a bit like that.”
“…”
“What the hell.”
“Well, um, anyway, I have been pondering one thing lately.”
“Speak.”
“In truth, I think you are not cold-blooded but quite emotional, acting on a ‘let’s just go for it’ mindset… which is a rather blasphemous thought.”
“Reflect on that.”
“In that case, senior.”
Kalt spoke with a trembling voice.
“Please, could you explain the situation in more detail so this foolish junior can quell his suspicions?”
Through the magical relay of the Black Tower, Kalt connected with Raniel in the North, his neck almost on the ground. A few days ago, Kalt received a letter.
“Encounter with the Sword Demon, Draka, in the North.”
The letter’s format was high-sounding.
However, peeling back the layers revealed content that would burden Kalt with dozens of days of overtime.
“What on earth did you get into this time?”
“Do you expect me to be always causing problems?”
“Statistically, when the two of you meet, nine out of ten times an incident occurs. Can I trust you to be the 10% this time, senior?”
“Uh…”
“Did you perhaps destroy some terrain again? I really hope not. I don’t want to take up the job of map revision, truly.”
As she continued the call, Raniel glanced out the window. She looked at the towering Kurakt Mountain Range. More precisely, the chunk of its peak that had been sliced off.
‘Hmm…’
It was a trace visible only with narrowed eyes.
It was problematic that it could be seen from such a distance, but… Raniel decided not to dwell on it.
“I don’t think you need to worry.”
She nodded and answered the inquiry.
“It’s not very noticeable.”
“Oh, please.”
Kalt went pale.
He began to tear at his hair and demanded an explanation from Raniel. What on earth had she done? What had happened to Draka?
“Please, senior, explain…”
As Kalt fired off a barrage of questions, a tired voice came from the receiver.
“This is hard to explain verbally.”
“…Huh?”
In that moment, Kalt’s instincts screamed loudly.
Standing on the border between the superhuman and the ordinary, Kalt dipped his toe into the realm of extrasensory perception, which warned him more strongly than ever.
‘He must not continue speaking.’
Just as Kalt instinctively opened his mouth…
Raniel spoke a moment sooner.
“Just come see for yourself.”
She spoke in a gentle voice.
“Yeah, that’ll be much easier.”
Before Kalt could say anything, the line went dead. Kalt stared blankly at the beep sound of the magical relay.
“Ugh, uuuu…”
Kalt groaned, tearing at his hair.
“Senior, please!”
The moment an unexpected northern business trip had been decided.
Kalt’s screams did not reach Raniel.
Only the Black Tower’s Yetual, nearby, clicked his tongue pityingly. Yetual patted Kalt’s shoulder, giving advice.
“Since ancient times, one must have a ‘reasonable’ superior. You’re having a tough time, aren’t you?”
It was a line that resonated with Kalt’s heart.
3.
Several days passed since the incident.
Over the past few days, Lac focused solely on recovering his body. The Master of the White Tower, in horror, fed Lac various potions, so it didn’t take long for him to recover.
However, aside from that, Lac had to stay holed up in his room. It was the strong warning from the doctor that he needed complete rest until his broken bones healed.
“…Hmm.”
Training time, yet unable to train.
Under usual circumstances, he would have felt discontent about that… but not now. Lac closed his eyes. When he shuts his eyes, what comes to mind is the sprawling snowy plains.
Snowfield.
Bloodstains marked on the pure white snowy landscape.
A swordsman standing over the bloodstains.
Step.
The sound of snow crunching is heard.
The swordsman swings his sword from above downwards. It was a simple motion. A perfect motion because it was simple. The blade struck down like an executioner’s axe, unleashing a wave of sword energy.
Swishh!
The sword energy sweeping across the snow-capped mountain.
As he watched that sword energy, he moved. His foot stepped forward, and his drawn arm swung the axe. The movement was fluid. Faster than ever. Unbelievably so.
‘An impossible movement.’
In that fleeting moment, he surpassed the limits of his body.
Lac recalled that moment repeatedly.
‘Strange.’
It was unfamiliar, so it wouldn’t be forgotten.
In that moment, Lac looked at the wall.
A gigantic wall stood between him and the Sword Demon. A wall too high to climb, too sturdy to break. Lac reached out his hand toward that wall.
‘Not yet.’
He had only touched the wall temporarily in a very peculiar situation known as impending death. Right now, it felt distant and unreachable.
‘Not yet.’
That’s what it means.
One day he must reach it, and one day he must break it. Lac engraved the shape of the wall in his mind and opened his eyes.
“…Then.”
Lac muttered blankly.
The more he recalled that scene, the larger the doubts grew within him. Lac voiced that doubt aloud.
“What exactly is Professor Rania’s true identity?”
Even Lac, who usually lacked insight, felt doubts surfacing by now. Draka was the Sword Superhuman. It was impossible for an ordinary mage to defeat a Sword Superhuman.
‘…Could it be?’
A single hypothesis crossed his mind.
It was a guess close to the truth in Lac’s estimation.
Author’s Note (Postscript)
The tags I’ve entered are only fantasy, Ts, and academy, but suddenly I found “Munchkin” added as a tag. Was it perhaps thanks to a reader who wrote “Munchkin” for about 70 minutes?
