WeTried Translations
Translator: Coughing Baby
Editor: Coughing Baby
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 197: Ten Years
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“Huh.”
It did not take long for all ten members of the Demon Tribe to breathe their last.
Dorian withdrew the spheres that had ground the Demon Tribe members alive and stared intently at Lucia.
“According to our information, Sir Lucia was at the peak of the Will Realm... Hmm. Did you grow stronger in the East?”
Lucia sheathed Blood Fang and turned her head. Cleanly severed Demon Tribe corpses lay scattered at her feet.
“They were not enemies strong enough to warrant that much surprise.”
“They were still difficult opponents for someone at the Will Realm.”
Dorian shrugged.
“They were followers of the Fist Demon, Lizet Beliar. They’re fighters who survived countless battles in Erebos’s arena.”
“They did not attack with the intent to kill me.”
Lucia answered calmly.
She was right. The ones who had called her a Beliar had shown no killing intent toward Lucia until the moment they died.
“Even so, you killed them far too easily, Sir Lucia. Have you reached the Boundary Realm?”
“...I do not know. I have never experienced that realm.”
There was no lie in her answer.
Lucia did not know what it felt like for the Upper Dantian to open, or what it meant to reach the Boundary Realm. She could not be certain whether she had reached it herself.
But she knew something had changed.
Her body felt light. Whenever the Inscription radiated heat, strength surged through her. The sword she swung felt subtly different from before.
That difference was not unpleasant.
‘This is a power different from opening the Upper Dantian...’
Lucia focused on the Inscription as its heat slowly faded.
Something had changed within it after she encountered the outer gods’ rift. That change was clearly affecting Lucia.
For now, it was a positive change. There was nothing wrong with her mind. She felt no unwanted impulses.
Lucia was using the Inscription’s power through her own will.
“Hmm. Since you took part in the only feat of Dragon Slaying in continental history, it is only natural for your realm to rise.”
Muttering that, Dorian took a crow mask from inside his feathered cloak and handed it to Lucia.
“Put this on first.”
“Do I need to hide my face from the Demon Tribe? It would be useless when I cannot hide my horn.”
“No, that is not the reason. To take a shortcut, we must pass through an area with a high concentration of magic power.”
Tap. Tap.
Dorian tapped the long beak of the crow mask he wore.
“Magic power can mutate a person’s very existence. Once one reaches the Boundary Realm, one develops resistance to it, but our company’s foremost principle is safety. Well, perhaps Sir Lucia has little need for it, considering you maintained your existence perfectly even after returning from an outer gods’ rift... Still, one can never be too careful.”
So that was why every Black Wing Guard member wore a crow mask.
Lucia nodded slightly and brought the mask close to her face. The moment she placed the full-face mask over her head, its seams fastened themselves together.
“It only covers the face. Can this alone resist mutation from magic power?”
“Of course. This mask is the product of our company’s latest technology. It covers only your face, but put simply, it protects your soul from being seen. If no one knows what you look like, how could their gaze linger upon you?”
Dorian chuckled and pointed at the box containing Kyle.
“Of course, that box is protective equipment far safer than the masks we wear. Do not worry about Sir Kyle, and let us be on our way.”
“Will there not be more trouble like that?”
“Probably not. Those were all the pursuers following us.”
That was a relief, but Lucia focused again on the Inscription whose heat had faded.
“Is the Fist Demon also on the dark frontier?”
“She is. Unlike ten years ago, the stage of the succession contest is no longer Erebos. It is here, on the dark frontier.”
Dorian continued as he incinerated the corpses with magic.
“Ten years ago, there were fifty Inscription holders. Now only three remain. First Prince Varka Aspel. Thirty-seventh Princess Lizet Beliar. And that bastard, that son of a whore, Guspell Rubalt. All of them are on the dark frontier.”
Lucia’s eyes twitched at the last name.
“Rubalt?”
“He is our leader’s second son. He originally led the Crow Company’s Northern Branch in Erebos, but five years ago, he somehow implanted a Demon King Inscription into his body.”
“Though he is human?”
“At this point, he is not human either. He turned himself into a Half-blood.”
Lucia felt the blood in her veins turn cold.
Born human, then turned into a Half-blood of the Demon Tribe.
She did not know what method he had used, but such a being was neither human nor Demon Tribe.
A life-form created by magic.
‘A chimera.’
Just like Lucia.
“I do not know how he sweet-talked him, but the senile Demon King recognized that bastard as a successor. If he becomes the last Inscription holder, he will become the next Demon King. One reason our leader secured that damned Inscription and refuses to hand it over is to screw that bastard over.”
All the corpses had been incinerated.
Dorian cleanly erased the remnants of magic from the area and began moving. One Black Wing Guard member carried the box containing Kyle while the others picked up Jor.
“Thanks to that, we are suffering along with him.”
Lucia bit her lip beneath her mask.
The Demon King succession contest would not end until only one Inscription remained.
Even if the three-way battle between Varka, Lizet, and Guspell ended, as long as Lucia possessed an Inscription, the succession contest would not be over.
‘Lizet knows that I have an Inscription.’
According to the letter Lizet had once sent her, she had not told the other members of the Demon Tribe that Lucia bore a Demon King Inscription.
But was that still true after ten years?
Lucia could not help feeling anxious.
If Inscription holders could sense one another...
Lucia could not help worrying that her existence would become a burden to Kyle.
* * *
Kyle had a dream.
No, rather than a dream, he saw the past again.
The vivid slash that had flown through the outer gods’ darkness.
The sword beyond that slash.
He naturally knew that he was dreaming. Dreaming meant he was alive.
So he had somehow survived, then.
Relief rose within him.
‘What a fucking dream.’
Then irritation followed.
Ruin Alastor, that damned bastard. Kyle had only just thought he had started catching up, but Ruin’s sword had gone far away again.
‘You mean the sword he showed on the Ascension Platform was not even his full strength?’
Back then, Kyle had swung his sword toward Ruin, who stood beyond a long road.
That sword had been exceptionally well swung even in retrospect, but strictly speaking, it was not yet Kyle’s sword.
Still, he had felt it gradually becoming his own. That feeling had grown stronger while fighting Velatus, and it had thrilled him.
Every time he swung his sword, he felt himself improving. Moving further ahead.
He thought it was slowly coming within reach, close enough to touch.
‘And now it is farther away again?’
Was it playing hard to get or something?
If Ruin had shown him a sword like that on the Ascension Platform, Kyle would not have been left with this frustration.
Kyle had thought he might just barely reach it, only for it to become this distant.
Honestly, it felt fucking awful.
It was not that he felt disheartened. It just felt fucking awful.
“Fucking bastard.”
Kyle grumbled and sat down heavily.
‘Yeah. I’m not disheartened.’
It had always seemed close enough to reach but remained beyond him anyway. If Ruin displayed a sword that was better and more remarkable, Kyle simply had to make that sword his new goal and go further.
‘Right... There is no reason to be angry.’
Ruin’s sword had been far ahead of him in his previous life, and it remained far ahead after his reincarnation.
Whenever Kyle saw the swords Fenris showed him or Ruin displayed himself, he felt sincere admiration and respect.
At the same time, he resolved to catch up to that sword and surpass it someday.
‘Then why does this feel so fucking awful?’
Why indeed?
Kyle gave a bitter laugh. He knew the answer and was simply refusing to acknowledge it.
“It is my pride, after all.”
The sword had become more distant.
That was not truly something to be angry about. As he had just concluded, if the goal moved farther away, he merely had to go farther.
The distance between their swords was not what upset Kyle.
Something else had gotten under his skin.
‘Ruin saved me.’
The more he dwelled on it, the worse it felt.
He had defeated Velatus. He fought until his entire body broke and ultimately killed her.
But before what came next, Kyle could do nothing.
He could not swing his sword. He could not run away. A power that did not even allow resistance seized him and drove him to the brink of bursting apart.
All Kyle could do at that moment was yell at it and ask what the hell it was looking at.
‘Pathetic.’
He had met many strong opponents across both his past and current lives.
He had lost, fled, and died.
But Kyle had fought in every one of those battles. Even when he lost, he had wielded his sword to the fullest before losing.
That had been true even on the day Ruin killed him.
But before the outer gods, Kyle could not swing his sword even once.
Then Ruin saved him.
It was a back he had watched for five hundred years. An opponent he had sharpened himself against over two lifetimes, intending to catch up and cross swords with one day.
Yet instead of catching up, he now owed him his life.
Ruin had merely swung his sword once from beyond the sky. That sword corrected the Law outside the world and saved Kyle.
“Ha...”
Kyle scratched the back of his head.
It was not that he was ungrateful. It was better than dying. For all he knew, he might not even have died there, and something else could have happened instead.
One thing was certain: the favor the outer gods had shown him was not particularly pleasant to Kyle.
So yes, he was grateful to be saved from that situation.
But his old, childish, honest pride would not let him properly acknowledge that gratitude.
‘Yeah... What can I do about it?’
Kyle calmed his frustrated heart.
Pride or not, it had already happened.
Come to think of it, he had benefited from Ruin’s sword many times. Kyle’s own sword had improved because of Ruin’s.
All of it was a debt.
‘I can repay it later.’
If he owed Ruin his life, then Kyle could save Ruin’s life someday.
Though he wondered whether that bastard would ever face mortal danger, in that case Kyle could threaten Ruin’s life himself.
If he sheathed his sword just before killing him, would that not count as saving Ruin?
It was shameless logic, but Kyle used it as salve for his wounded pride.
The dream was shaking.
The slash Ruin had drawn was fading. As the stress gripping his mind dissipated, he was about to wake from the dream.
Kyle rose from where he had been sitting.
‘Everyone must be worried.’
Lucia, who was right beside him.
Katarina, who had been unable to save Kyle before her eyes.
The knights who had said they would die with him.
Helenas and Julius, whom he had seen as he escaped the rift, would be worried too.
‘I need to figure out where I am first...’
His thoughts went no further.
His submerged consciousness rose to the surface. Sound seeped through the darkness.
A regular sound... machinery?
Air carrying the scent of medicine brushed against his nose.
And then...
“Oh.”
A voice.
Kyle opened his closed eyes.
His eyes stung as darkness lifted from his eyelids. His mind was still somewhat hazy. He must have been unconscious for quite a long time.
“Ohohoh!”
That voice...
It was not unfamiliar.
Where had he heard it before?
With unfocused eyes open, Kyle searched through his memories with his dazed mind.
It was definitely not the first time he had heard that voice.
When? Where?
The Central Branch’s Third Research Building.
“You are finally awake!”
Fuck.
Kyle’s hazy mind snapped awake.
He blinked repeatedly to moisten his sore, stiff eyes. He wanted to rub them, but his body would not move.
When he looked closer, he found his limbs restrained by numerous mechanical devices.
It resembled the equipment used when he had been hospitalized at the Central Branch, though this was a more complex capsule-shaped treatment device.
“...”
He wanted to say something, but even that was difficult.
An opaque mask covered his nose and mouth. The air flowing through it was, honestly speaking, clean and delicious.
It was thick with purified, concentrated mana.
“Are you conscious?”
A voice he had heard before.
Clothes impossible to forget.
The leader of Crow Company, Duke Oun Garcia Rubalt.
He looked exactly as he had when he appeared as an illusion in the Third Research Building.
A black feathered cloak covered his tall frame, and a crow-beak mask hid his face.
The only difference from the illusion was that Kyle could see his whole body clearly.
Duke Oun shrugged as he looked at Kyle glaring at him, then stroked his beak.
“Surely you recognize me? I may look like a Black Wing Guard member, but you have heard my voice before.”
“...”
“Ah, forgive me. You cannot speak in your current state. It was not my intention to silence you. Your condition was simply far too poor. To regenerate wounds inside and out, we placed that mask over your mouth.”
Duke Oun chuckled and shrugged.
“Let us begin with a simple confirmation. Do you feel that there is anything wrong with your mind? Do you know who you are, and who I am? If there are no problems, blink once.”
Blink.
“That is fortunate. Now examine your physical condition. Your treatment has progressed considerably, but your injuries were so severe that we could not heal you completely. Most fractures have healed, but your internal injuries remain.”
[Enough. Remove this thing from my mouth first.]
Kyle spoke through transmitted voice rather than aloud.
Duke Oun let out a hearty laugh and nodded.
“Since you can send transmitted voice, your internal injuries appear to have recovered quite a bit. But you must still rest absolutely. You survived an outer gods’ rift, after all.”
Duke Oun’s hand, adorned with several rings, approached Kyle’s mask.
“While treating your body, we performed various examinations... It was truly remarkable. Your Spirit Root was strange and astonishing, but this is what truly shocked me. Magic power has seeped throughout your entire body.”
“What are you talking about?”
The mask fell away.
Duke Oun shrugged at Kyle’s spoken question.
“Exactly what I said. The outer gods’ power. Magic power has seeped into your entire body. Normally, one would mutate under its influence. Their existence would collapse and transform into something else... Yet you have maintained not only your body, but even your sense of self. Is it because your Spirit Root is special? Or because you are favored by the outer gods?”
Duke Oun set the removed mask down and gazed intently at Kyle’s face.
“Or is it because you are the Turning Point?”
“Stop talking nonsense.”
Kyle let out a deep sigh and glared at Duke Oun.
“You are not an illusion... If you are standing before me, does that mean this is the dark frontier?”
“You see things clearly. This is the western dark frontier, that damned land that will neither let me go home nor retire.”
Duke Oun chuckled and stepped back.
“The deadline we set then has passed somewhat, but it was not broken by your own will... I will not blame you. We have met in the end.”
“Ah... fuck.”
At those words, Kyle cursed with a deep sigh.
The deadline.
He had promised Duke Oun that if he answered his questions, Kyle would visit him on the dark frontier within ten years.
“Has ten years passed?”
Kyle asked with a twisted expression.
“That is right.”
Duke Oun answered in an amused voice.
“It has been ten years since you and Sir Lucia vanished in the East after accomplishing Dragon Slaying.”
Footnotes:
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