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Chapter 268: Reality and Ideal (5)
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The annihilation of Berta Canyon was successfully completed.
All of the above objectives were achieved with minimal losses among our forces.
The towers of the necromancers, which produced the bone soldiers, were all brought down. Shattered pieces of bone scattered across the ground, and the corpses of the necromancers, with their heads smashed open, filled the canyon.
Meanwhile, there were places where not a single corpse remained.
The sites left behind by the knights who advanced, leading waves of fire and sweeping the area with intense heat, are examples of this. All that remained where their feet touched was nothing but charred ashes.
Step step.
The knights advancing on the ashes felt firsthand how much impact a wizard can have on the battlefield.
“Rania van Trias.”
The knights pondered the name of that mage.
If they were to choose the one who contributed the most to this operation, it would surely be that girl.
A light gesture, a swift swing.
That was all it took.
With a single spell to sweep the area, the knights now felt a sense of fear towards the mage. They were beginning to understand why ancient liches were called nightmares of the battlefield.
‘Facing something like that, lifting a spear or blade against it…’
Now, that was truly a nightmare.
Some looked at Rania with fearful eyes, while others gazed at her with admiration. She was removing her gloves, exhaling softly.
Rania van Trias was expressionless.
As if emotions were unnecessary for doing what had to be done, her endlessly expressionless demeanor resembled that of a doll.
However, the thoughts of the knight who stood by Rania throughout the operation were a bit different. The knight had seen it. Just after the operation ended, Rania rolling down her sleeves.
And so, hiding her wounds.
Yet, despite hiding her wounds, she could not conceal the sounds and the stench.
Fizzle.
The smell of burning flesh made the knight wrinkle his brow. Overheated circuits were roasting the girl’s skin.
“…Are you okay?”
At the knight’s question, Rania turned her head.
Without a word, the knight pointed at her forearm.
“You seem to be in quite a lot of pain…”
The knight’s voice held no certainty. What looked like a painful injury to the knight still met Rania’s calm expression.
‘Is she really in pain?’
As that doubt crossed the knight’s mind, Rania suddenly glanced at her forearm. Her skin was becoming scorched with heat. It was a familiar pain. Enduring was also a familiar pain.
“It’s nothing really…”
As Rania instinctively tried to say she was fine, she briefly closed her mouth. After a moment of contemplation, Rania forced a smile.
“It’s a bit painful. Could I borrow a potion?”
“Of course. The medical team will…”
“There’s no need for all that, just give me a potion.”
The knight handed Rania a potion.
Rania, rolling up her sleeve, poured the potion onto her forearm and grimaced. There was no way it wouldn’t hurt when she suddenly dumped the potion on her wound.
“That’s going to hurt if you do it like that.”
“True. It does hurt.”
“…Usually, you would dab it with a cloth. You don’t seem to be familiar with the use of potions.”
It wasn’t that she was unfamiliar.
She simply hadn’t had the time. Unlike Kyle, who quickly recovered from minor injuries, she had to dash while pouring potions over her wounds each time she was hurt.
What was obvious to Rania was not obvious to others. Unable to hold back, the knight spoke up.
“Please wait a moment. There’s a tent nearby; I’ll get some spare cloth.”
“There’s really no need to…”
“You’re the one who contributed the most to this operation. If it were up to me, I’d want to bring the priests right away, but since you’d dislike that, let me at least do this.”
The knight smiled bitterly and ran to the tent.
Watching his retreating figure, Rania scratched the back of her head. It felt strangely unfamiliar.
2.
Under the successful operation, many knights wallowed in the joy of victory. However, there were places that were not so fortunate. No matter how well they fought or how they reduced sacrifices… it was impossible for no one to die on the battlefield.
Someone must die.
Somebody has to die for it to be called a battlefield.
Yet the knights who died do not simply get buried underground.
Not just because it is luxurious. Those buried underground will never attain eternal rest. The necromancers will drag their corpses out and force them to point spears and blades at their former comrades.
Those resurrected find no rest.
Their spirits and flesh remain tainted forever.
To avoid that fate, all the corpses are burned.
The sacred flames created by the priests, known as the Holy Fire, consume the bodies. Without any scent, and without any sound.
Everyone falls silent.
In the place filled with silence, Galahal stood.
“…”
He remained there until the holy flames extinguished.
Chloe silently observed that scene.
As she looked around, Chloe thought.
‘…The battlefield, and death.’
It was a scene not depicted in fairy tales or tales of heroes.
Of course, it’s only natural. Such realistic scenes wouldn’t be depicted in media that sings of hope, instilling admiration in children.
The battlefield is not a stage where heroes thrive.
The battlefield is a place that needs heroes.
Such places cannot be splendid all the time. It is only because of the horrors that heroes are needed. Chloe knew this, but what unfolded before her eyes was more than she had imagined.
She saw countless corpses.
The bodies were thrown into the consuming flames. Those who had been alive just moments ago transformed into cold, lifeless corpses, hurled beyond the flames. Among them were knights she had spoken to before the operation.
A surreal sight.
Chloe felt a turmoil within her heart.
She turned her head and looked beside her. There stood Galahal, silently watching the holy flames. An individual who seemed more heroic than any figure from a fairy tale.
In a scene not depicted in fairy tales, the hero from those stories stood there. It was a scene that felt utterly out of place.
“Shall we go?”
Only after the flames had completely died down did Galahal speak. Chloe followed him as he led the way.
“I know a place with a nice view. It should be nearby. Shall we walk for a bit?”
After walking for a while, they stopped in an open field.
Galahal turned to look at Chloe, who appeared to be lost in thought. Noticing the complicated look in Chloe’s eyes, Galahal smiled bitterly.
“Seeing the holy flames isn’t exactly a beautiful scene. It’s quite shocking, to be honest. I apologize.”
“Ah, no…”
Chloe shook her head.
She felt she understood why Galahal had brought her there.
“It’s a scene we must see someday…”
“It’s not just that.”
Galahal sat on a rock in the field.
“Many heroes dream of being figures from fairy tales. They want to be dazzling, bright, constantly victorious… to be the protagonists of tales that symbolize heroes.”
He unfastened the spear he had been carrying.
“But, of course.”
Thud, the spear’s shaft fell to the ground.
A heavy sound echoed.
“The path to that is not easy. Even if one walks to a place of symbolism… they must bear the heavy burden of responsibility.”
With a lighter voice, Galahal continued.
“Reality is not like a fairy tale.”
With a light laugh, he added.
“Fairy tales do not depict gruesome scenes. No matter how great a hero may be, they cannot save everyone. The hero who brought salvation, Ganyr, is no different.”
Someone will die.
They will die.
Galahal murmured.
“No matter how great a hero, they cannot save everyone. Someone must be sacrificed, and one must witness someone’s death. The difference between reality and fairy tales lies there.”
In the end, nothing perfect can exist.
Therefore, it is impossible to become a perfect hero.
The boy who admired heroes understood this only after becoming a young man. He held onto those he had let go of due to his own shortcomings. Even now, and in the future, he would continue to do so.
“Perfection, ideals, are far and treacherous.”
So far, so very far.
“Perhaps, they may forever be unreachable.”
In the end, it may remain out of reach.
Galahal is not one to be ignorant of this fact. In fact, he understands it better than anyone. Galahal understands his own inadequacies.
“Yet, I still wish to move forward.”
He does not turn away from reality.
He holds on to ideals while moving forward in reality.
Knowing that it may never be attainable, he does so nonetheless.
“As long as I don’t give up… I believe all of that holds value. However, this is just my personal thought. I don’t claim it to be right.”
Galahal smiled.
“Chloe.”
The young man looked at the girl before him.
Perhaps she, too, dreams of a similar hope and wishes to walk a similar path… The young man had many stories he wanted to share with her. So very many.
“What kind of hero do you want to become?”
That was a question he had posed to himself many times.
3.
“What’s your dream?”
The sudden question caused Destel to blink in surprise.
“Huh?”
The operation had successfully concluded, and he was tidying up in the temporary camp. Destel blinked repeatedly while looking at the girl before him.
Rania van Trias.
The top contributor to this operation, the girl who genuinely resembled the Ashen Mage. To Destel, she seemed to truly embody that figure.
‘Making nonsensical achievements with an expressionless face…’
She certainly did not feel human in any way.
However, unlike the Ashen Mage, Destel felt a certain humanity from the girl before him. It was not only because of the bandages wrapped around her forearm.
“I’m asking what your dream is. Are you deaf?”
She looked down at Destel, bending slightly. Feeling pressured by those blue eyes, Destel pushed his chair back.
“What’s with the sudden nonsense?”
“I’m just curious.”
“…Curious out of nowhere?”
“You were the one who threw the first punch when we met, so it’s a bit strange that you’re questioning me now, don’t you think?”
Rania chuckled.
“I’m just really curious.”
“…Do I have to tell you?”
“You’re the top contributor to the operation, right? As the commander, you have an obligation to reward me.”
“If that’s the case, we can…”
“I have enough money, no ambition for land, and I’ve built up enough honor. Just answer my question.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“I feel like understanding you requires hearing your answer.”
Once again, that line.
What was she hoping to understand? Destel struggled to comprehend the situation. Yet the girl before him seemed determined to get an answer.
‘She’s seriously trying to get a reply…’
Her bluish eyes were endlessly serious.
Faced with those eyes, Destel eventually resigned himself and opened his mouth.
“I want to achieve something that everyone acknowledges and return to my village alive.”
“Return to your village?”
“Yeah. You wouldn’t know this, but my village is famous for being extreme. Before I became a hero, my dream was to be an actor.”
A dream he had never shared with anyone.
“I might not be able to realize that now, but dreaming isn’t wrong, right?”
Destel shrugged.
He had never spoken of this dream for fear of ridicule. He believed the girl before him would surely laugh. But as he looked at her…
“Really?”
The girl didn’t laugh.
She simply nodded as if she found it interesting.
“Is that the reason you want to retire?”
“…Well, it’s not just because of the dreams. I’m just tired of everything, both this and that, so I want to retire.”
“Then just run away.”
“I don’t have the courage to do that, so I’m being cowardly.”
Destel chuckled.
“Why would I be cowardly? I don’t have the courage to achieve accomplishments at the risk of my life nor to throw off my responsibilities and run away, so that makes me cowardly.”
The ridicule was aimed at himself.
Having laughed at his own situation, Destel spoke.
Still, Rania wasn’t laughing at him.
“So that means you’re trying to take responsibility.”
“…Is that how it’s interpreted?”
“Regardless of the reasons, you’re saying you won’t run away.”
Rania let out a short sigh.
As if feeling a bit more relaxed, she took a few steps back and smiled. A smile that was more comfortable than any she had shown before.
A truly human smile.
Yet, Destel felt a sense of discomfort from that smile.
He thought she resembled Raniel, but he didn’t recall Raniel ever smiling like that. The Ashen Mage’s smile was always dry and heavy.
Destel suddenly asked.
“Didn’t you dislike me?”
“I did.”
She said she disliked him.
“Still, you said you didn’t give up on me.”
“I’m living with half efforts.”
“Anyway… wait a minute, huh?”
Rania frowned.
“Why am I defending you? What are you hoping to hear from me? A compliment maybe?”
“Would you give it if I asked?”
“Have you lost your mind?”
Destel laughed, and Rania nervously tangled her hair.
“I still don’t like you, and I don’t understand all of your methods, but…”
Rania looked straight at Destel.
“I don’t think it’s completely incomprehensible anymore. That’s all.”
“Your brother is different. He grabbed me by the collar at the first chance.”
“That’s because you acted like an idiot back then.”
Destel smiled bitterly.
That was true. Back when Raniel had gripped his collar and shouted, he had felt like trash, no matter what anyone said.
“Their sacrifices weren’t meaningless.”
“That sacrifice was made meaningless by you, you worthless piece of trash.”
Destel could not forget those words.
It was the truth, piercingly accurate.
“Lastly, one more thing.”
“You’re quite the inquisitor, aren’t you?”
“It’s simple.”
As Rania posed her question, it was anything but light.
“Someday, do you think you’ll step forward again?”
At that, Destel fell silent.
Silence lingered for a while. After a few minutes, Destel finally opened his mouth.
“Well…”
He then answered.
“If Chloe, that child, steps forward again… then I might too. I don’t want to live off a kid’s blood.”
Perhaps that reply satisfied her.
Rania grinned and added.
“That’s all I needed.”
*
