WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

Editor: Hydrogen B

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Chapter 449: Heaven-Defying Trial - Finale

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Unlike the others, Du Lahan was the only Elder who had become one by ‘opposing’ the Progenitor. The Dark Knight. A legendary figure who, as a headless knight, had gone around beheading even the most renowned knights.

It was accurate for the head of Du Lahan, the Dark Knight said to have swung their own head like a flail, to be separated from their body. Still, they had never appeared with only their head and no body. The object of fear had never been their head, but their body.

I asked Du Lahan's head.

"Sir Du Lahan. Why did you come with only your head?"

"...You... bastard...!"

Their voice sounded like someone scraping the bottom of an empty bowl. They seemed to be having trouble speaking without anything below their neck. Even if they were an Elder, I could beat them in this state.

As Erjebeut's strongest ally appeared in their most helpless form, Erjebeut widened her eyes and demanded an explanation from Valdamir.

"Valdamir? What's going on? Where is Du Lahan's body?"

"I left their body behind. If their head and body were together, they would surely try to oppose the Progenitor."

"...What...?"

She still looked unable to understand why he had brought only Du Lahan's head when he was supposedly going to oppose the Progenitor. She should have understood by now.

"Your head is awfully hard, Madam Erjebeut. Do I really need to spell it out for you?"

For Erjebeut's benefit, I kindly explained.

"The Duke of Crimson Blood isn't on your side. Unlike you people, he has no intention of attacking Tyr. Attacking a traitor bold enough to rebel against the Progenitor is another matter."

Erjebeut realized it too late. Why Valdamir had left. Why he had gone alone to wake Du Lahan. And why he had approached this close while asking questions and pretending not to know anything.

The moment Erjebeut tried to respond, Valdamir moved as well. She opened her fan as if to drive him away. Her powerful dominion resonated with the blood covering the floor, and blood rose like a wall between her and Valdamir. At the same time, red vines and tangled bricks gathered to seize Valdamir's ankles. It looked as though the entire world was trying to hold him back.

Valdamir's response was simple. He raised his greatsword overhead and brought it down with force. Everything blocking his path was cleaved in two. The vines, the bricks, even the waves of liquid blood.

He could cut through not only objects, but even the authority of bloodcraft. Erjebeut, who knew Valdamir's strength better than anyone, tried to crush him with sheer volume instead. Far more blood than he could cut through poured down like a waterfall, carrying all manner of debris.

Erjebeut's bloodcraft was overwhelmingly stronger. Not even blood energy responded to Valdamir's authority. Here, the only things Valdamir could command freely were his body and his greatsword.

Still, that was enough to deal with Erjebeut. Valdamir moved his fingers.

Whether it was an energy art, bloodcraft, or some authority that fused the two, it moved the greatsword. The blade flew as if it were alive and spun on its own. It gradually accelerated, and before long, the greatsword became a storm. Valdamir ground apart the obstacles in its path as it whirled, then leaped over Erjebeut, seized the handle of the moving greatsword, and swung it down.

An irresistible strike split the world in two. Erjebeut resisted with all her power, but her dominion over blood could not stop the blow that shattered all things. Her fan tore in half, and uncontrolled blood energy scattered everywhere.

Vampires had little fear of death. Was it because they were immortal beings who felt no pain? That was part of it, but it was probably also because they had little will to live. Like gambling with counterfeit money, there was no thrill to it.

Now, though, Erjebeut had finally found something she wanted. She became desperate and shouted at her thralls.

"Me, protect me! Protect me!"

No one answered her call. Erjebeut's thralls had been subdued by Valdamir's ain, including Count Erte.

Even among ain, Valdamir's were exceptional. Thralls who had learned and mastered other Elders' powers were especially skilled at fighting fellow vampires, even more so than humans. Erjebeut's ain had been restrained by only two of them.

It was a desperate situation. Grabbing the greatsword as it pressed further into her, Erjebeut cried out.

"Valdamir...! You're betraying us!"

"Betrayal? I have never betrayed anyone."

Valdamir murmured as he drove the greatsword deeper.

Erjebeut, as an Elder, could not die from physical damage. Even if he tried to disrupt her dominion, her powerful control remained intact.

Yet with her true body being crushed beneath the greatsword, she had no strength left to use elsewhere. Barely resisting the blade, Erjebeut spoke.

"You, you were the one who summoned me and said it! That the Duchy needed change...! I only acted because I agreed with you!"

So that was it. I had wondered why those lazy Elders were moving so suddenly. The Duke of Crimson Blood had been urging them on behind the scenes.

Could an Elder be swayed just because someone encouraged them? They would not act without reasonable grounds. An Elder with the Duke of Crimson Blood's strength and influence would have needed to promise support before they moved. As expected, the Duke of Crimson Blood had been behind the rebellion.

She just hadn't known it was a trap.

Valdamir drove the greatsword even deeper and murmured.

"There were only two. You and Du Lahan."

"What...?"

"Two Elders who would certainly oppose the Progenitor someday after casting off their shackles. Du Lahan would do so the instant they cast their off. You would scheme in the shadows, then act when you saw an opportunity. You were a little more troublesome than Du Lahan. So I used a troublesome method."

It had begun from the start. From the time the Elders noticed their shackles had been severed and the desires they had suppressed for so long slowly began to stir.

From then on, Valdamir had calmly devised a plan to identify the traitors.

‘Not some other foolish Elder, but me...! I didn't even realize I was being deceived!’

Erjebeut felt humiliated. It was directed at Valdamir, but also at herself. Before becoming an Elder, she had handed an entire territory over to vampires through political strife. Yet she had been played by a single Duke of Crimson Blood.

"From the very beginning...! You meant to lure me into a trap!"

"I gave you a reason to move. I was simply standing at the end of that path."

Valdamir tightened his grip on the greatsword and curled his left hand like a claw. Blood gathered around it, and his fingers became enormous teeth. Erjebeut recognized the power concentrated in his left hand and turned pale.

"Blood Leech! Bakuta's power...!"

"I learned it. It is necessary when dealing with Elders."

An Elder could kill another Elder. After beheading and restraining them, they could use bloodcraft to disrupt their dominion and bring them to total annihilation. With gluttony, the task became several times easier. It turned the other person's blood into one's own.

His gluttony might not be as powerful as Bakuta's, but Valdamir would use it more effectively. Erjebeut desperately cried out.

"Y-you! Don't you want to become the king of the Duchy in the Progenitor's place?"

Valdamir, who had been about to devour Erjebeut with gluttony, paused and looked down at her. Erjebeut struggled and shouted desperately.

"I'm certain now. Valdamir, with your strength, you can do it! Tyrkanzyaka cannot defeat you. Especially now, when she has lost even the power she possessed! You can truly seize everything and wield it as you please!"

"What?"

"Everything! Vampires, humans, Elders! This entire country!"

She spoke desperately, yet her mind remained cool. Her greatest enemy now was neither the Progenitor nor me, but Valdamir. If the man she had thought was an ally turned against her, she had no chance of winning.

But if she could make him her ally, everything would become easy.

"I'll yield the true blood to you. I will make you the second Progenitor! If you kill the Progenitor and take her power, you will stand as the true ruler of this country...! You will no longer need to obey the Progenitor's orders!"

Valdamir considered it briefly and let out a low hum. Taking it as a sign of agreement, Erjebeut gave a faint smile and whispered.

"Perhaps not Tyrkanzyaka, but I can entrust myself and this country to you. I too will serve you with all my heart..."

"I have no need of it."

Crunch.

Valdamir's hand swallowed Erjebeut's head. His fingers, like teeth, devoured her. Flowing blood ran through the gaps in his grip. The remaining fragments tried to take shape again around the bloodcraft, but Valdamir relentlessly pursued the source of that power.

He cut and carved, relentlessly disrupting Erjebeut. From within her body, which shattered before it could reform, Valdamir found something and reached out to grasp it.

Tyr's true blood, the source of her regenerative power.

It had once belonged to Tyr, but after spending so long with Erjebeut, it had changed. Tyr's blood, bestowed upon an Elder.

The true blood gathered blood and flesh, trying to restore the Elder's body. Even with its source completely exposed, Erjebeut had not died yet.

"Hm."

With a little more force, Valdamir could have annihilated Erjebeut completely. Instead, he stopped just before the final step. Erjebeut was a traitor, but the true blood was part of Tyr. After reclaiming it, he spoke without looking at me.

"Concubine."

"Yes?"

"You did well."

"At what?"

"Keeping Erjebeut occupied. Thanks to you, the Progenitor's burden has been greatly reduced."

I liked Valdamir's way of speaking, but he was difficult to deal with.

He had not guessed what I was thinking. He had simply declared that this was how he would see it. Even now, it wasn't exactly that he believed I had lured Erjebeut in for Tyr's sake. He only acknowledged that my actions had helped Tyr.

Valdamir would judge me solely by the results I showed, without jumping to conclusions about my intentions. He might make an incorrect judgment, but my words would not lead him astray.

"I did it to survive, not for Tyr."

"Wise."

"I wasn't that wise. Because you arranged things however you pleased, I nearly ended up trapped in the castle and killed. You expected the Elders to betray her, so why didn't you stop them beforehand?"

Valdamir answered as though it were obvious.

"Before it is done, it is not betrayal."

In the name of loyalty to Tyr, Valdamir had not cut off the seeds of rebellion in advance. Even after encouraging Erjebeut, he had only watched until she actually rebelled. Valdamir was not a mind-reader.

Even as a mind-reader, I did the same, so I could hardly criticize him.

We were similar, yet complete opposites. I watched because I wanted to see a will fulfilled. He watched the outcome because he could not know that will. Was it thoughtfulness, or was it fearlessness?

Well, we were walking the same path for now, so did it matter...?

"..."

"What is it? Why are you staring at me like that all of a sudden?"

Valdamir, who had been about to leave for Tyr, looked at me in silence. Just as an ominous chill ran down my spine, he picked up his greatsword again and murmured.

"...Before it is done, it is not betrayal."

"Excuse me?"

"Even if the King of Humanity casts aside the Progenitor's affection, before that happens, it is not betrayal."

‘Even if he neither loves nor pities the Progenitor... It would be presumptuous of me to deal with him as I please before the Progenitor experiences it herself. Any new experience for the Progenitor is good, no matter what form it takes.’

There was something strange about this man. He was not so much loyal to Tyr as devoted to her. He did not seem to intend betrayal, but he did not see Tyr as a god or a king.

That feeling was...

"Valdamir, may I ask you something?"

"I will listen."

Look at the way he spoke. I grumbled inwardly and asked.

"As Erjebeut said, you could have become the second Progenitor. Why didn't you?"

"There was no reason to."

"No. I mean, yes, but..."

It was a brief answer and an honest truth, but it wasn't the answer I wanted.

Ugh. I could read a vampire's thoughts, but reading through memories that vast and trying to infer his feelings would be horribly inefficient. Back then, his emotions had been so faint that I couldn't even pick out only the memorable memories.

It was better to ask questions, make him think of an answer, and read it. What would be good? After carefully choosing, I asked one more question.

"What do you expect from Tyr?"

"Expect?"

Perhaps it was a question close to the heart of it. Valdamir frowned and considered it, unlike himself.

Vampires stopped at the moment they accepted blood. Their bodies, minds, even their emotions. The first memory Valdamir recalled was from just before his death.

He had lost both his family and his territory. He had sworn revenge, but he was powerless. He had used all his strength, called on every connection, and devised every plan he could, but in the end, he failed and fled. While enemies pursued him, a girl appeared before him as he lay dying in an unnamed forest.

A very pale girl covered in rags. Though she walked barefoot over rough brambles, not a single wound marked her body. He had expected beasts to come first at the scent of blood, but instead, a girl who could have been a witch or an angel appeared. It was a welcome mistake at the end of his life.

"What a miserable sight."

Valdamir had done his best and failed. Revenge was something one pursued only when one had the ability to do so. If he had thrown everything he had at it and still failed, then it was simply an unavoidable failure. That was the limit of what Valdamir could do as a human.

"I heard your story. The leader of the rebels who challenged the Duke King, consumed by revenge. You put up a decent fight, but it seems your strength finally ran out. How regrettable."

Was that really true?

Contrary to what the world believed, Valdamir had not shouted for revenge. He was a practical man. Even when his enemy stood before him, he did not ruin matters out of vengeance.

At the same time, he was more romantic than anyone. Though he knew it was almost impossible, he chose to fight rather than run away.

"You are like me. Perhaps you can endure eternal solitude and endless hardship."

The girl murmured and bit her finger. The blood that would later be called true blood welled up and fell, then stopped abruptly. Her blood formed a bead in the air and slowly entered Valdamir's body. In place of the blood that had lost control within his dying body, an immense dominion consumed him.

"I will give you a chance to begin again. If you wish to live, accept my blood."

He had no lingering desire worth fulfilling even if he began again. He had only failed, but he had already carried out his revenge.

His soldiers had been wiped out. His retainers and household had become slaves or died on the executioner's block. His alliances had been broken, and his companions had become criminals. He had lost the gamble in which he had staked everything.

He had done his best and failed miserably. Wasn't it ugly to wish for another chance now, after losing everything?

Valdamir used practical means, but pursued romance. Whatever he accomplished with this immense power that had fallen into his hands would not be his achievement. He could be a loser, but he could not become ugly.

He did not know whether resisting such overwhelming power had any meaning, but Valdamir had settled things in his own way and was about to refuse. Then the girl murmured in a cold, lonely voice.

"And... once you have completed all your revenge, become my hands and feet, and help me with mine."

But conversely.

The girl, who might have been a witch or an angel, needed him.

She possessed cold, deep hatred and vengeance, as well as authority with no end in sight. Yet Tyrkanzyaka, an ancient Progenitor who was still young, needed Valdamir. He could become her means.

He had already lost everything. The things he had been responsible for had become dust in history. Wasn't that the ideal condition for becoming someone's tool? Valdamir had failed, but the girl still had a chance to succeed.

Rather than resist, Valdamir accepted the power. He decided to live an ugly second life and opened his mouth to accept the blood.

Valdamir's wish was to help Tyrkanzyaka. An Elder's duty was to serve the Progenitor.

Everything Valdamir did as her hands and feet aligned with his wish. Unlike the other Elders, who had stopped, Valdamir grew stronger. He built a system modeled after other countries, trained himself to gain power, and learned new techniques.

So that one day, the Progenitor could achieve her wish.

"..."

Valdamir stared at me without a word. For a moment, one scene flashed through his mind. Tyr, dressed in a beautiful wedding gown, smiling brightly as she held out her hand. Then I appeared on the other side with a cheeky grin and grabbed her outstretched hand.

What Valdamir had imagined was Tyr's wedding. The groom was me, someone he did not like for some reason. His mood immediately soured. Valdamir picked up Du Lahan's head and Erjebeut's heart, then turned away.

"I said I would listen. I have no duty to speak."

Valdamir tossed out the words and moved toward the castle as though he had no intention of saying anything further. He was going to subdue the traitors who had dared attack the Progenitor.

Left behind, I thought over the thoughts I had just read.

...Was he a doting fool?

Footnotes:

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