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EP.474 The Way to the Final Stage (5)
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The Royal Capital, the heart of Cartedia.
The carriage carrying the extermination team briefly stopped in the Royal Capital, and the Royal Guards and mechanics waiting in the area immediately approached the halted carriage. As they input a new destination into the carriage and made adjustments, those who disembarked from it stretched lightly.
“I have a place I need to go. I’ll arrive on time, so you go ahead first.”
With that, Destel departed for somewhere.
The remaining individuals passed the time in their own ways as they waited for the carriage to be readied. And···.
“······.”
“······.”
Lac and Natida were silently staring at each other. They were only looking at each other, but their eye levels and the temperature in their gazes were not quite the same. Lac was sweating coldly, while Natida glared at him with wide-open eyes.
“You said you’re going to confront Barta, the King of Beasts. Alone, no less?”
“There’s a reason for that···.”
“I’m not asking for a reason. I certainly don’t want to hear excuses.”
Natida let out a long sigh.
With her arms crossed, she slowly tilted her head.
“Listen well, Lac.”
“······.”
Lac respectfully brought his hands together.
Though he was known as the symbol of fear for the Demon Lord’s Army, called the annihilator, and treated like a berserker··· in front of his lover, Lac could only feel small.
“I want to say it’s reckless, insane, and that I’m going to follow you, but··· I know that’s not how it should be. You have a mission that only you can undertake, right? Am I right?”
“···That’s correct.”
“Then, I suppose there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Natida smiled bitterly.
She reached out and straightened Lac’s collar. As she adjusted the crooked collar, Natida suddenly gripped it tightly.
“I won’t say much.”
Holding onto the collar and looking up at Lac, Natida slightly lifted her heels. At a height where their noses almost touched, Natida met Lac’s gaze.
“Come back alive. You must.”
After a light kiss, Natida took a step back. She took a few steps back lightly, hiding her smile with her sleeve.
“If you die, I might just become a necromancer instead of a saint. Promise me you’ll come back alive.”
Lac let out a small chuckle.
He reached out and tousled Natida’s hair.
“Indeed, I must return alive.”
For you, if not for myself.
After lightly tapping Natida’s forehead with his finger, Lac turned away. By now, the carriage repairs were complete. Though they had come together to the Royal Capital, it was time for them to part ways toward their respective stages.
“Take care, Lac.”
Lac raised his hand in response instead of answering.
With his back turned, Lac boarded the carriage heading northwest. Resti, watching from a distance, scrunched up her face. There was no reason to feel bad, yet for some reason, her mouth felt parched with an inexplicable bitterness.
“Haah···.”
Letting out a sigh and turning her gaze, Resti then spotted Chloe and Belnoa chatting and laughing. Resti’s expression twisted further.
“Master of the Tower, repairs are complete.”
Resti turned her attention at the voice calling her. The mechanics working on the carriage flinched at Resti’s crumpled expression.
“Is there, uh, something uncomfortable…?”
“No, you’ve done well.”
Resti relaxed her facial muscles and patted the mechanics’ shoulders a couple of times. Yes, what’s the big deal about a lover? She had the Tower and magic. That was enough···.
‘···But they handle magic pretty well themselves.’
···She had her summons and the Tower.
A steadfast tower that wouldn’t betray and wouldn’t collapse. In summary, they were more than sufficient to be her life’s companions.
‘Yeah, that’s what matters.’
Resti looked at her mechanics with a strangely proud expression. Usually cold as ice, the Master of the Tower was smiling at them, causing the mechanics to break into awkward smiles while sweating bullets.
“Input complete, repairs finished.”
Repairs were done.
“May blessings fill the path ahead.”
Leaving those who saluted behind, the carriage carrying the heroes began to move again.
Under the movement of the False God, strange phenomena began to occur across various regions. Beasts started to stir. Yet paradoxically, the front line was quieter than ever.
Where the beasts stirred.
Where the beasts gathered.
Where the phenomena occurred.
All those places were behind the front line. It felt as if the beasts instinctively avoided the front lines.
“Perhaps, that is correct.”
Muttering as she walked through the quiet battlefield, Raniel said.
“Though beasts lack intelligence, they certainly have the instincts of beasts. They must have sensed it instinctively.”
She let out a grin.
“Right in front of the front line, death is looming.”
Raniel stood at the boundary of the front line.
Before her lay a vast chasm. Beyond the sheer cliffs lay a place where humanity’s final trial awaited.
“The place where death is silent, Gehete.”
Raniel took a step forward.
Stepping over the boundary, her step marked where the lands of the Phantom Territory and humanity met.
Crunch.
As she left footprints on the dry ground, Kalt followed closely behind. In the middle of the massive chasm, a path was opened, and the two moved forward along it.
“···This isn’t something I say often, but…”
Kalt spoke, raising his head.
“What a magnificent sight.”
Upon looking up, a scene unfolded of splits and fissures spread out, depicting a geometrical pattern of the chasm. No, calling it a chasm might be difficult. It was closer to the landscape of enormous trees.
“Especially in that it’s not naturally formed, but artificially created.”
Kalt chuckled softly.
He could see it. Countless swords slashing from within this chasm. The image of someone creating a path through the chasm by swinging their swords.
Clang.
Following the traces, the two walked.
After a long journey, they suddenly looked down at their feet. Long sword marks were etched in the ground. Following the marks with their gazes, they found···.
The place where death is silent, Gehete.
The destination they reached across the vast chasm.
The earth there was filled with all kinds of sword marks. Every scar etched into the ground was a trace of a sword. Traces built over a day, two days, dozens, hundreds of days, years, and centuries.
Those traces did not only exist on the ground.
Kalt slowly lifted his head. He peered into the sky. Despite being at the very edge of the Phantom Territory, the sky above was not pitch black. In the midst of the darkened sky, a bright blue sky existed.
It was a scar.
A scar that had not faded over hundreds of years. It served as evidence of a great achievement accomplished by someone at this spot.
“Kalt.”
“Yes.”
The sword marks etched in the sky seem to speak.
Against the blackened sky, a swordsman had engraved blue in the heart of the black sky. That was the sky embraced by the First Hero, the deed he performed in defiance of the heavens.
“Prepare yourself.”
And the scar engraved in the sky asked.
It was both a question and a warning.
“It is coming.”
“Have you resolved yourself to face the sword that defied the heavens? If you have, are you prepared to prove your resolve and pride? If so, then···.
Shing, Kalt unsheathed his sword.
“Then show me.
Zing! Raniel gathered her mana.
“Before death.
Raniel and Kalt gazed at the same spot.
“What you have built.
Under the torn sky, above the etched sword marks. Thus, at the place where sword marks and swords form earth and sky, where even death falls silent, stood a single knight. A singular death stood there.
“Is it, indeed, meaningful?
The Death’s Blade, Ganikalt.
The most feared calamity opened its mouth to the challengers who had come to face it. The voice resonated once against the helmet, shaking the entire plain. It asked no further questions. What was needed from those who had made it this far was not questions.
“Show me your worth.”
“Prove it to me.
“The qualification to move forward.”
“Your pride, resolve, and belief that do not succumb to death.”
“Prove it to me.”
“Prove it to me.”
In a deep forest, amidst the abandoned ruins.
Destel pushed aside fallen trees and moved into the center of the ruins. In the center of the ruins stood a ruined pillar, and Destel lightly kicked it, shattering it.
Something was revealed beneath the broken pillar.
What emerged was a door inscribed with strange patterns. Opening the door, Destel descended into the ruins. He knew this place. It was a passage that had been quite useful in his time period.
“I didn’t know this was here back then.”
A hidden passage.
Walking through the fairly wide passage, Destel··· exhaled deeply. Feeling alive.
“···It’s been a while.”
As he walked, he recalled.
He remembered moments that might have been in the past for him, but could be the future in this world. And··· the landscapes he had followed her into this timeline.
“You can reach it, Raniel.”
“A different ending than mine.”
“The best ending I couldn’t reach.”
He had become her apostle, seeing and hearing what she experienced. Though her essence had scattered into the world the moment she died and seeped into this body, he could clearly remember the landscapes she beheld before she scattered.
The experiences of Raniel van Dragonik, who had returned.
The scenery she saw, the hope she cherished, the broken spirit she transformed, and the way she spoke of her best until the very end smiling like she used to. And her last moments.
“···Hah.”
Destel exhaled deeply.
In the end, Raniel van Dragonik smiled. Not as Dragonik, but as Tria. She could smile as someone’s child, merely a disciple, laying down everything as a human.
“Yes, it must be so.”
For the hero.
“A fitting ending must be given. It must.”
For the hero who is different from him.
For those who sacrificed their entire lives for humanity, a fitting ending must assuredly be theirs. That was the belief Destel held. A tiny wish from a coward who could never become a hero.
“They’re the ones who live harder than anyone else.”
They always fight for the best of others. They burn their own lives for others’ happiness and peace. Therefore, the ending they reach··· in the world that could be called the best, there was no place for them.
That must never happen, murmured one coward. Destel walked with a smile.
“So.”
Someone must.
“I have to fight for their best.”
Someone must fight on their behalf.
Someone must fight to save the lives of those who gave up their own lives. The coward wished he could fulfill such a role.
Though he couldn’t become a hero.
He was someone who lived and died for heroes.
“That damned goddess.”
Destel chuckled as he ignited the ash. He reached out toward the firmly closed door before him.
“This is how I repay my debt.”
