WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 444: Heaven-Defying Trial - 12

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Thralls are often compared to their suzerain's hands and feet. It is not merely a metaphor. Thralls are ruled by their suzerain's moods, will, and commands.

Think of a right arm. It moves when commanded. When you want to grab something, it instinctively reaches out and grasps it without needing to control each finger and joint individually. Sometimes it may not move properly when it reaches its limit or develops a problem. Still, it will not act on its own. Unless it is the arm of a newborn that has only just formed.

Thralls are exactly that. Hands and feet. The Progenitor swept across the world with thirteen limbs to fight in her place, for she possessed nothing but authority.

Now, those limbs had broken away and raised a rebellion.

Then what happened to the power and knowledge those limbs had learned and gained? Did they belong entirely to the arms and legs, destined to disappear forever once the bonds were severed?

That was true for the most part, but not entirely. A suzerain who had experienced and learned far more than she could have without those arms and legs would change even more than that.

Meurie, struck head-on by the enormous arm steeped in darkness, was confused. Naturally, it was not because of the impact.

Long ago, vampires' most dangerous enemy had not been the Sanctum or humanity. It had been light, the sacred power that transformed all things. For vampires, whose bodies had died and remained frozen as they were at that moment, sunlight, which transformed the very medium of bloodcraft, was a potent poison.

Tyrkanzyaka was no exception. She had wrapped herself in blood to block the light. Using powerful bloodcraft, she created curtains of blood to protect vampires. The altered and tainted blood quickly blackened, but Tyrkanzyaka used even the smallest shattered fragments as shields against the light.

Darkness was not an authority. It was simply the absence of light. As long as light could be blocked, darkness could be created in any amount. Tyrkanzyaka had merely used blood blackened by alteration as a tool.

Yet humans who saw vampires forever cloaked in darkness feared it, calling it darkness meant to defy the gods.

The shared perception of countless people twisted essence itself. At least when it came to humans. That was why Tyrkanzyaka came to wield darkness, wholly unrelated to bloodcraft.

Meurie, familiar with darkness and having inherited part of its authority, understood its nature well. It was decayed blood and scraps used to block light. Something that could not properly receive even the authority of bloodcraft. Through a false idol, it had become an authority greater than a clump of dust, but the force darkness could exert was insignificant.

...Yet this darkness overwhelmed Meurie, if only for a moment.

"Blood energy? No, even a Black Knight cloaked in blood energy couldn't possibly be this..."

Meurie escaped the darkness and clung to the ceiling. With eyes that could see through the dark, she looked down at Tyrkanzyaka.

"Progenitor...?"

Tyrkanzyaka had stretched out an arm.

Not the arm that had struck Meurie. That short, slender arm could not reach her. What had struck Meurie was Tyrkanzyaka's shadow. The swaying darkness that had risen behind her extended an arm as though imitating Tyrkanzyaka.

It was the shadow that mimicked actions, which she had shown once in the Abyss. The only difference was that it was strangely powerful.

Tyrkanzyaka opened her mouth. Following her, the shadow also opened its mouth, darkness dripping from it.

[Meurie. Isn't it strange?]

"Yes? What is?"

[You, who seemed as though you would remain loyal forever, changed your attitude overnight as easily as turning over your hand.]

Vampires did not feel fear. Their hearts had stopped, their sense of pain had died, and they regenerated easily even when injured, leaving them without the emotion called fear.

Still, perhaps because the bonds had been cut, or perhaps because her opponent was the Progenitor, Meurie felt as if cold droplets were running down her spine. This was probably what people called fear.

[I lived in an unchanging world for over a thousand years. I thought loyalty, love, and emotions would remain eternal, just like me.]

The voice created by Tyrkanzyaka's shadow seemed to seize space itself and shake it. Facing that ominous presence that inspired fear, Meurie felt a strange impulse.

She wanted to sing.

[I thought my feelings for Hyu would remain unchanged forever as well. Even while we spent the night together, my heart swelled at the thought that this moment would continue every day. I gazed at his sleeping face and sank into happiness.]

"Progenitor, who obtained the happiness you wanted. Progenitor, who came to know joys you had never known. Please tell me. How are you now?"

At Meurie's musical question, the shadow replied in a sticky voice.

[I hate him. I hate him so much I can't endure it. I thought I would give him everything I had, yet I resent that I cannot become his everything. Only one night has passed, and I have heard only a single whisper from you.... Was the heart always so easily changed? Was will always this weak and soft?]

"The heart is a reed, the heart is a reed. When the wind blows, it bends that way without conviction. The heart is a weak and tender reed."

[You are all the same. Even your thousand years of loyalty were nothing more than words spoken while bound. The moment the blood bonds vanished, you pointed your blades at me.]

"Who let the wind into this field of reeds? Tree standing quietly in this slanted world, did you see? Did you see who let the wind into this field of reeds?"

[...And I cannot deny that all this is what Hyu wanted. That is what grieves me.]

Tyrkanzyaka poured out her feelings amid Meurie's song, then let both arms hang as she lamented.

[Perhaps, if you had not rebelled, I could have remained with him longer. This resentment has become sharp thorns, pointing in every direction. I want to pierce anything. I want to make holes and see blood flow. Yet I know. The one who brought all this wind was none other than Hyu.]

As Tyrkanzyaka finished speaking, the ancient castle moved. Blood had been packed into its bricks, allowing Erjebeut to manipulate every brick in the castle walls with bloodcraft. Having found Tyrkanzyaka, Erjebeut opened a road straight toward her through the blocked passage.

At the end of the road on the other side stood the Elders who had come carrying their own desires. Erjebeut, who held ambition. Rahu Khan, who wanted an unchanging lineage. Lungken, who desired endless struggle. Cabilah, who possessed twisted loyalty. Bakuta, hungry as ever, and Meurie, still singing.

"Progenitor."

"Clan Chief."

"Big sister."

They were the same as Tyrkanzyaka, who had wanted a heart. They had come carrying desires, hoping to gain something from Tyrkanzyaka. Feeling the wind blow into the open space, Tyrkanzyaka muttered.

[...Hyu. This was the sight you wanted. I think I understand a little now.]

Until now, Tyrkanzyaka had never needed to think of anything herself. She had hands and feet that could move in her place.

Having lost all those limbs, Tyrkanzyaka made use of everything she had experienced and witnessed until now.

The Elders might be more skilled in battle. But bloodcraft belonged to Tyrkanzyaka. Even if she did not understand combat, every use of bloodcraft remained under Tyrkanzyaka's authority.

All authority converged on a single point.

Black darkness gathered and formed a body. A pitch-black shadow resembling her rose behind her.

[I was a corpse then, and by that fact alone, I was the duchy, its ancestral god, and the land that supported you.]

Like a shadow, it looked exactly like Tyrkanzyaka and was easily ten times her size. Yet unlike a shadow, it possessed a clear physical form.

[You do not want a living, breathing nation. You do not want land that moves as it pleases. You reject my existence.... That must be your desire.]

With a powerful thought, the blood energy that had filled Tyrkanzyaka's body flowed into the giant made of shadow, making Tyrkanzyaka its heart.

The shadow stretched. Its faintly red arms scraped against the ancient castle's walls.

Crunch.

The castle walls were shredded without the slightest resistance.

The giant, which had gained substance and power, and even emotion and a heart, was no longer a simple shadow. It had surpassed the level of a doll sculpted from darkness. That was Tyrkanzyaka's body itself.

If blood could not leave her body, she would expand the definition of a body. She formed a giant through authority and bloodcraft. A giant identical to Tyrkanzyaka, save for being dyed black, rose behind her.

[Then I shall ask not with qualification, but with strength. Are you prepared to welcome a tyrant?]

Before blood energy that burned like lava, the god who had regained her heart asked her former subjects.

A massive tidal wave was coming.

The island whale and the cloud ray. Both Sea Calamities were colossal beings comparable to natural disasters, but they were still living creatures that roamed the great ocean. She warned that the cloud ray would not always overlook the island whale as it blocked currents and filled its belly, and that the ray would tear open the sea in a "justified protest."

Valdamir was too surprised to speak. Not because the warning itself had come out of nowhere, but because the "prophecy" had been used for vampires' sake. Until now, the Holy Maiden's prophecies had only been used to oppose vampires, so Valdamir had even considered seizing and interrogating the other party out of suspicion.

There were two reasons Valdamir did not.

First, there was no harm in preparing for the prophecy. Pulling people back from the coast for a while during the night ebb would only inconvenience the humans a little. It would not bring significant losses. The lack of an opportunity cost was a very important matter to Valdamir.

The other reason was that Valdamir could not gauge the other party's power.

The Holy Maidens of the Sanctum each possessed strange abilities. The Steel Maiden, Peruel, was a representative example. A Holy Maiden who foresaw her own future and brought it to pass was invincible. Not even Valdamir could harm her directly.

If 'that thing' was also a Holy Maiden, Valdamir could not take her lightly. What did she know, and how had she obtained the two treasured swords? There were too many unknowns, and the risk of provoking her blindly was too great.

Above all, Valdamir had heard that she had been injured by Dogo, yet she had appeared perfectly unharmed while giving off such an eerie atmosphere.... If a needless fight dragged on, it would only be a loss for Valdamir, who had much to do.

Especially because he had to go greet the Black Knight, Du Lahan, before him.

"Ah, Valdamir."

"Good to see a familiar face. You feel the same, don't you? I don't have a face myself, of course. Hahaha!"

Lord Lahan, carrying their severed head beneath one arm, laughed foolishly at their own remark. As befitted a vampire, Valdamir asked stiffly instead of laughing along.

"Lahan. Have you awakened?"

The Black Knight Du Lahan, once the strongest warrior before becoming an Elder, happily shook their head at their old enemy and longtime friend.

Footnotes:

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