〈 Chapter 290 〉 The Prophecy Points to Death (2）
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“Ahhhh.”
Among those blessed by the star, miracles appear only to a select few. These are miracles that read countless possibilities, allowing glimpses into the future.
“A prophecy has been given.”
People called this miracle a prophecy (??), and those who spoke of it were called prophets. Moreover, a prophet’s prophecy is on a different level from the snippets of the future spoken by saints or other blessed individuals.
“Run away.”
What they utter is a certain future.
Unless there are variables, it is a future that will inevitably happen.
“In ten days and three days, at the Kennel Sanctuary in the North…”
Thus, the prophecies they speak of are not vague. They are not couched in metaphors that make them difficult to understand. The futures described by prophets are direct and precise.
“Death will appear.”
Because of this:
“The apostle of the false god, the most terrifying disaster that symbolizes death, will reveal itself there.”
They receive doubt.
People scoff at the idea that a precise prophecy could exist, even for a saint, and sometimes they label prophets as lunatics.
The first prophet is an example.
“Please believe me, the stars have shown me the future. Death will crumble everything in the North. It’s true, please listen to me…!”
Centuries ago, the first prophet appeared at the founding. Everyone doubted her existence. She was mocked as a madwoman, and even the Deloheim Church did not heed her words at that time when she was a high priestess.
But there was one.
One who paid attention to her words.
“Did you say death, religious nut?”
He was the lord of the North at that time.
A young man who swore to unite the chaotic North and ascend to the throne to become its protector.
“You mean death refers to Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade, right? Am I correct?”
Grace.
“You’ll have to be responsible for those words.”
He believed the prophet’s words.
Laughing heartily, he strapped a massive great sword to his back and set off towards the Kennel Sanctuary where the prophecy pointed.
He never returned.
Everyone says he went missing. They whisper that he disappeared without a trace after unifying the North. However, those warriors who lived in that era know.
The massive sword marks etched in the sanctuary.
The spilled blood of Grace in that place.
That blood led deep into the North. The warriors attempted to trace the blood trail to the end, but ultimately failed. The place where the blood trail ended was shrouded in a violent storm.
“This is the Holy Site.”
The young heir of Grace, who was tracking the blood with the warriors at that time, pointed to it and called it so.
“This place is the Holy Site of the North.”
The Holy Site of the North.
Where the great Grace closed his eyes.
2.
“Are you talking about the founder of the Grace Family?”
“Yeah. Was it Grace? Do you know anything about your family’s founder?”
Lac blinked.
Rania leaned on her chin, waiting for Lac’s answer. There was a reason she asked such a question. Since last summer, she had accumulated a series of questions.
‘No matter how you look at it, there must be a connection.’
The founder of the Grace Family.
And Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade.
There must be some relation between the two.
Rania was already half convinced of that. There were reasons that made it so. Just laying out the gathered evidence made the connection easy to guess.
‘At the Holy Site of the North, the holy sword used by Ganikalt during his hero days remains.’
That holy sword was still linked to the Death’s Blade.
‘And in Lac’s trial… the Ganikalt from the hero days appeared.’
Ganikalt van Galatrick.
The being Lac faced during the trial was the first hero. Moreover, he seemed to act as if he knew Grace, Lac said.
“Well… to be honest, he’s quite a unique figure, so there’s not much documented about him.”
Lac said, stroking his chin.
“I’ve only heard about him from my father. The founder of the family often behaved in a peculiar manner, like a genius (??)…”
“For example?”
“He said he liked swords twice the size of my body, ignoring a blacksmith’s advice that it would be hard to swing when so large. He had it forged anyway.”
There seemed to be some insight into that eccentricity.
Rania recalled the sword held by the Death’s Blade. Indeed, it was a sword that was difficult for someone of ordinary stature to wield.
“…What else?”
“Oh, he reportedly climbed snow-capped mountains countless times without clothes. Enlightenment comes in extreme situations, he said…”
“…Aren’t you doing that too?”
“I wear pants.”
So he does wear pants.
Rania shot Lac a suspicious glance. Lac raised his voice as if feeling wronged.
“I’m serious! Since I got scolded a lot by my mother when I was young, I…”
“Ah, I got it. Anything else?”
“Hmm… There’s a tale that he never took on a swordsmanship teacher?”
“A teacher?”
Rania blinked.
“What do you mean?”
“The founder invited many scholars to the North to learn from them. They say there were dozens of them, but strangely, there were no swordsmanship teachers.”
He never took on a swordsmanship teacher, huh.
Rania stroked her chin.
Now that she thought about it, Cardi mentioned that Ganikalt and Grace had a master-apprentice relationship, didn’t he? If he learned swordsmanship from Ganikalt, it would make sense not to have had any formal teachers.
‘Is it really just a master-apprentice relationship?’
There seems to be something more.
Rania groaned while stroking her chin. It was hard to believe that a simple master-apprentice connection would have lasting effects even after hundreds of years.
“I feel like there’s something more…”
“Hmm?”
“No, I just have a lot on my mind.”
Rania let out a short breath.
“Alright, that’s enough of this talk.”
She crossed her arms and looked around.
Deep in the forest, Lac had cut down a few trees for training. In the center was a huge rock split in two.
“Did it grow a lot while I was away?”
Axe lodged in the middle of the split rock.
The result of a single swing. Watching the rock being split, Rania voiced her honest impression.
“If Roks sees this, he’ll shed blood tears.”
He had grown since facing Roks.
And it was a significant growth.
Rania could not help but admire Lac’s development. Although he only knew the straightforward and honest methods of training, Lac was incredibly diligent.
“In the dawn, I hike; in the morning, I attend class; from afternoon until I sleep, I swing the axe. Oh, and I’ve been practicing the breathing techniques the master taught me consistently too.”
The handle of the axe Lac held, despite being metal, bore the marks of his hands. His palm was covered in calluses. Rania smiled contentedly.
“You’re doing well.”
Rania turned her gaze.
“And so…”
There sat Belnoa with her head bowed.
“You want to go through a trial? Belnoa.”
“…Yes.”
It had been quite some time since Chloe’s identity as a hero was revealed. Now, as Chloe began to actively participate in some battlefields, Belnoa made a request to Rania.
“I need to become stronger more quickly.”
She wanted to go through a trial.
*
Lately, Belnoa often dreams as if something is chasing her. It’s not just in her sleep. During classes or while training, such thoughts keep cropping up.
The fear of being left behind.
This was the first time Belnoa had experienced such anxiety after her uninterrupted growth until now. Moreover, having lived in a place where falling behind meant death, the anxiety felt even more crippling.
“Chloe is moving forward.”
Belnoa had seen Chloe wield magic.
She had become a trainee hero, right? Truly, the magic Chloe displayed after being acknowledged as a hero exceeded Belnoa’s imagination.
“I can do so much now.”
“So, I believe she should show it a little, after all, people will start feeling the gap left by Galahal.”
The magic Chloe showcased was intense.
As she witnessed the pure white light engulfing the surroundings, Belnoa found herself unconsciously taking a step back. The frail girl who thought she needed to be by Chloe’s side was long gone.
“I think I’ll go to the battlefield.”
“I won’t be going to the front lines; I’m planning to participate in a small operation at a minor battlefield so it won’t be too dangerous. You don’t have to come.”
Moving forward while leaving Belnoa behind.
In the end, Belnoa could not reach out to stop that back. Truly, she felt no longer needed beside Chloe.
And so it happened.
Chloe returned victorious, having made a name for herself among the knights of the battlefield, despite it being her first operation.
The massive spell she unleashed was a symbol of heroes.
It was a spell radiant with platinum starlight, leading the operation to success with a single shot.
“Hero of the Holy Flow, Chloe.”
Greatly valued was the existence of being both a hero and a mage, and the knights understood the worth she held. Although still a trainee, they sensed potential within Chloe.
“The heir of Galahal.”
“The potential that he risked his life to protect.”
“Indeed, that sacrifice was not in vain.”
Such whispers began to resonate softly. Chloe continued to move forward. Towards farther, more dangerous places. Belnoa was aware that she couldn’t stand beside her yet.
She remained stuck.
Stuck in place, unable to move forward.
“I…”
Belnoa swallowed hard.
Rania gestured to Lac. Lac silently nodded and stepped away. Thus, left alone with Rania, Belnoa struggled to speak.
“I keep feeling like I’m falling behind.”
“Falling behind?”
“Yes, I can’t seem to get a grip. I cannot progress. It’s been several months…”
The next step of sorcery she had witnessed in the Holy Grail trials.
Belnoa was not able to transition into that stage.
“So, I would like to receive teachings.”
“In the Holy Grail?”
“Yes.”
“It hasn’t even been a year yet.”
It will be difficult.
Even as Rania said this, Belnoa remained resolute. Finally, Rania sighed and took the Holy Grail from her possession.
“If it feels impossible, you should just…?”
Rania trailed off, as the grail did not resonate before Belnoa’s face. She swung the grail a couple of times, but it showed no reaction.
As if to say she was unworthy.
“There’s no reaction.”
“…Yes?”
“There’s no response.”
Rania pointed at the Holy Grail.
“It’s not that there’s something wrong with the grail itself, but it seems that the trials of you and Lac are special, and the conditions are different…”
She also felt unsure.
However, what was certain was that the trials were not opening paths for Belnoa. As if it wanted her to overcome alone without relying on the grail.
“…Does that mean I can’t go through the trial?”
Belnoa’s voice fell.
With her head bowed, she bit her lip. At this rate, she wouldn’t be able to stand beside Chloe. To move towards the light, by any means necessary…
“Hey, Belnoa.”
Just as such thoughts were brewing within her.
A voice came from above.
Looking up, Rania was already right there before her, looking down at Belnoa with her fist clenched.
“Get a grip.”
Smack!
Rania slapped Belnoa’s head.
3.
Sara was chosen by the stars from the moment she was born.
Her divine power surpassed that of dozens of high priests, and as she grew, her divine power increased day by day.
“Blessing of the Deloheim Church.”
“The pride of the Church.”
“Sara is indeed a saint.”
By the time she reached fifteen, she was already performing miracles that even the pope struggled with, with just a gesture. Countless individuals revered her as a saint, and indeed, that was the case.
At seventeen, Sara became the youngest saint.
A decade has passed since then.
Now, at the age of twenty-seven, Sara is having dreams. Dreams she has never had before, she feels her consciousness drifting in deep darkness.
Whoosh.
Then, at a certain moment, her surroundings turned pure white.
The scenery was too vivid to be a dream, flashing in front of her eyes. The snowstorm battered her. Amidst the raging snowstorm, she heard a drawing sound.
The drawing sound draws closer.
Sara slowly lifted her head to look ahead.
There, something stood.
What stood there was death. A form of death. In a moment, forgetting that this was a dream, Sara turned and began to run.
Screaming in terror.
Struggling to escape.
Yet, no human can distance themselves from the approaching death. A light sound came from behind. Swish, the sound of a sword cutting through the air.
Whoosh.
The sword strike sweeps through the area.
The knights in the direction Sara fled, the warriors of the North, and many others she didn’t know were all swept away in an instant.
Limbs were severed.
Lying on the ground, Sara gazed at the sky, panting. As she coughed up blood, she looked at the starry sky. She captured that constellation within her fading vision.
Thus, Sara awakened from her dream.
“······!”
Sara gasped, sitting up abruptly.
Hurriedly rising, she pressed her chest, taking several labored breaths. Stumbling out of bed, Sara reached for a water bottle, but ended up knocking it over.
Crash!
The noise startled Kyle awake.
Kyle opened his eyes narrowly, looking at Sara and asking what was wrong. In fright, Sara grabbed Kyle’s arm and said.
“Death, an inescapable death.”
Sara spoke, catching her breath.
“Death is appearing in the North.”
Twenty-seven.
Ten years after becoming a saint, Sara makes a prophecy. It is different from any foresight she has made before.
“On the day when the stars point towards two and six, death will set foot in the North. In the North…!”
A specific, clear prophecy.
And thus, it is a prophecy that will definitely come to pass.
Having seen the future, Sara cried out in terror.
“The Death’s Blade, Ganikalt is coming there.”
The saint becomes a prophet.
The prophecy pointed to death.
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