EP.473 The Road to the Final Stage (4)
If I look down at my feet, there’s a thick layer of pale ash scattered everywhere. When I look up at the sky, the ash is falling like snow. Thus, the temple is covered in ash.
A half-collapsed temple.
A temple that only retains half of its shape felt more appropriate to be called a ruin than a holy place. A place that serves as proof that a god once existed, not a site to worship the divine.
“Nice to meet you, fool.”
One human was guarding this place.
A man perched on a crumbling pillar rolled a cigarette. There was no need to light it. The moment the ash touched the end of the cigarette, a sizzling sound erupted, and flames rose.
Hoo, the man exhaled, resting his chin on his hand as he gazed at Destel.
“Which line should I start with? Ah, maybe I should kick it off with a cliché.”
The man chuckled.
“I am you.”
Destel pointed at himself.
“From a failed future.”
Aak!
A failed future from himself.
He realized this the moment their eyes met. He knew it, but he couldn’t comprehend it. The man in front of Destel exhaled deeply, unfazed by Destel’s gaze. The thick smoke clouded Destel’s view.
“So? What was it like?”
A voice echoed through the haze.
“The future you should have experienced.”
“…Is that even a question?”
Destel shot back irritably.
“It was a nightmare. It was terrible. What do you want from me to keep having the same dream? What, to learn from it?”
Since the day after the Beheading of the Apostate began…
Not a single day went by where Destel didn’t dream of nightmares. He had to face the horrors in his dreams. He pressed his eyes shut, letting out a sigh.
“What are you trying to say?”
“Don’t you realize anything after seeing that?”
“What?”
“Well, I guess you didn’t because that’s why I’m here.”
Sizzle. The future Destel crushed the cigarette between his fingers and stood up. He cracked his joints with a thud and slowly raised his hand.
Snap!
The moment the sound echoed, his worn hero’s garb flapped dramatically. The crimson-stained garment, marred with blood, seemed to flutter as the scenery shifted dramatically.
“You saw the future, but it’s also the past.”
A temple devoid of its god.
The heaps of ash were blown away by a sudden gust of wind. Within the swirling ashes, the temple’s floor revealed itself. Embedded in the ground were numerous weapons.
Broken spearheads. A shattered sword. A wrecked shield.
A grave filled with an array of weapons.
The weapons stuck in the grave felt familiar to Destel. That one, Destel squinted. There was no way he wouldn’t recognize them. All of them were the weapons of heroes. Weapons he had once mimicked.
Clang!
He grabbed one. A broken spearhead. It was Galahal’s star spear. However, unlike the radiant spear Destel had known… it was stained, darkened with dried blood.
“The future I saw. The nightmare I experienced. All of it undeniably happened. That guy believed firmly that if I returned, all would be undone, that it could be changed…”
He smirked.
“That’s just not possible. How could that ever be allowed?”
Muttering softly, he tightened his grip on the broken spear.
“Everything has happened. My mistakes. His mistakes. A myriad of large and small errors accumulated, leading to disaster. People who had to die. Those who had to be lost. Countless knights and heroes who had to be sacrificed.”
The blood I had to swallow.
Blood flowing here, now.
Weapons soaked in blood.
“All of that cannot be erased. The blood they shed will not vanish. It has merely become the fertilizer for the land you now tread upon; they still exist.”
Thud, he took a step forward.
“I once asked you.”
Ash swirled in all directions.
“Did you have no regrets? Are you living differently than I am? Can you reach a different conclusion than I did? Back then, I asked you.”
The scene he saw during the Beheading of the Apostate.
The question thrown by his future self standing at the edge of blood.
“To that question, you answered ‘I have no regrets.’ You replied that from now on, you wouldn’t have any regrets either.”
Destel had answered that way.
The future Destel did not forget that answer.
“And thus, at last.”
‘Add one more condition before the contract.’
‘I do not trust myself. No matter how beautiful the world was that you changed by going back… I would still be a coward. Just a spineless creature.’
He recalled a conversation he once had with a god.
‘So I will ask myself.’
‘Whether you are worthy. The fulfillment of the contract comes afterwards.’
“The contract has been established.”
Spineless. A hero who lived a lifetime in regret exhaled deeply.
“Hey, spineless.”
“…”
Spineless. A hero who decided no longer to bend gazed silently at his future self. He looked at the bloodied spear that his future self held.
“I made a contract with that guy. In other words, I am his first apostle. Even if I’m merely existing by parasitizing this timeline…”
Even so.
“I exist here.”
As his representative.
And as concrete proof of the past that surely existed.
“Standing before you, I represent the future that has become the past, and I shall ask you.”
What?, Spineless questioned.
Worthy, Spineless answered.
“Did you boast about striking down the apostate? Did you get all cocky taking even one step forward? Did you think you were a hero?”
The future Destel ridiculed him.
“Shut it. Prove to me that you can reach places I could not. Show me you have the strength to overcome the trials that will come your way.”
If you cannot prove it…
If your lack of worth is revealed…
If it comes to that…
“I will become you.”
“We’re off.”
Early in the morning, everyone finished preparing to leave for their respective stages. Lac von Grace headed to the northwestern end, the abandoned temple. The remaining crew boarded the carriage headed for the northern end, toward the frozen tower.
Then, Raniel patted the shoulders of those boarding the carriage, cheerfully offering light farewells. As he saw them off one by one, Raniel stood before Destel last.
“You will be in charge of the Braver Extermination. Once again, you’re handed a heavy role. So, please take care of it, Destel.”
Raniel chuckled.
“Let’s meet again alive.”
Cutting off the shoulder pats, Raniel suddenly blinked. His eyes met Destel’s, which looked different than usual. Those vacant eyes.
“Destel?”
“…”
Destel boarded the carriage in silence.
Raniel tilted his head, then lightly waved goodbye to the departing carriage. As everyone left the base, Raniel began to walk alone. It was now his turn to head to his stage.
“…Hoo.”
Only after everyone had left did Raniel exhale deeply. Loosening the tightly bound scarf a little, he took off the gloves he wore and shoved them into the robe’s pocket.
The final chapter.
No matter how soon, he thought he would face the ultimate scenario in two or three months. Ganikalt and the Braver, the King of Beasts, and then the Shadow. All had to be exterminated simultaneously, and Raniel frowned deeply.
…Inadequate.
Preparation was lacking. He had been negligent.
He had assumed everything would go according to plan, but the Braver had overturned the table. It painted the board black with unexpected moves beyond all anticipation.
‘…Just a hair’s breadth away.’
Both sides were aiming for each other’s necks. The Braver brought out all the cards he had hidden. Then, they too needed to lay everything they had on the table.
“…”
Raniel silently wiggled his fingers.
What bloomed atop his finger was starlight. The starlight formed the shape of a balance before scattering away. Raniel reflected that this was the one last opportunity he had saved until the very end. Perhaps he would need to use it.
“Regardless.”
Raniel breathed out heavily. As he exhaled, he once again tightened his scarf and put on his gloves. Then he gathered strength to take a step forward. How many steps did he take?
Tap, quietly.
Without a word, Kalt followed in Raniel’s footsteps. Glancing at the armed Kalt, Raniel said.
“Sorry.”
“What do you mean?”
“For making you participate in the Ganikalt extermination.”
At Raniel’s words, Kalt fell silent for a moment.
After a brief pause, he inadvertently chuckled.
“Well.”
Kalt shrugged.
“I don’t think you need to apologize for that.”
“…What do you mean?”
“When they called for the participants in the Braver Extermination back then… I would have asked if my name was included.”
“Why’s that?”
“Why indeed.”
Clank, Kalt knocked his sword at his waist.
“My master dealt a blow to Death’s Blade at the end of his life. So I can’t just let it go; I have to break a bone or two to earn my name as a Sword Saint, don’t you think?”
“What does that even mean…?”
“Most importantly, you see.”
Kalt wore a bitter smile.
“The founder of the Kirmelt Canyon, the origin of my sword, isn’t it there? I have to show it to him as well, don’t I?”
To the unasked question, Kalt provided a short answer.
“Galahat Style.”
He adjusted his grip on the sword as he spoke.
“Though it began with his sword, it has flowed and bloomed into the unique flowers of the next generation. I should show them to that man too. I don’t know everything about his life, but…”
Kalt smiled.
“I believe that’s the utmost respect I can pay to someone who once was a hero.”
“Is that so?”
“How splendid is that?”
“I don’t really know, but there is some romance in it.”
“I’m a swordsman who lives and dies romantically, after all.”
The two laughed as they walked.
The destination of those who boarded the carriage lay at the forefront, beyond it. A place no one had reached for hundreds of years. The place humanity must finally pass through to face the Master of the Demon Lord.
A place where death remains silent, Gehete.
Towards the place beneath the torn sky, the two advance. Their stage awaits.
On the chessboard, pieces are set to move.
The white pieces advance to the ends of the continent, and the black pieces swirl in from the edge toward the center. All in preparation for the final showdown. To put an end to their long struggle.
A hero leading the white pieces and…
A Braver leading the black pieces face each other.
Across the chessboard, both reveal everything they have. The black brings forth pieces that the white overlooked, while the white blocks them using pieces the black underestimated.
However, there is one piece neither the hero nor the Braver is mindful of…
“Go ahead first.”
When the rapidly moving carriage arrived at the Royal Capital, Destel exited. He lightly waved off the gazes of the extermination team members who were watching.
“There’s somewhere I need to go. I’ll arrive in time, so you go ahead.”
Destel moved forward.
Looking at Destel’s back, Resti suddenly tilted her head.
“…Ash?”
Ash was billowing from Destel’s body as he walked. The Watcher, Resti, could barely recognize it, but it was undoubtedly ash.
