WeTried Translations

Translator: Coughing Baby

Editor: Coughing Baby

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 235: Goodwill (2)

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A ship was running aground.

I strolled through the steel innards, slowly tilting to one side.

Thump.

The traces of Izenheim that had occupied more than half this place had noticeably thinned out. The ones hiding among the cargo in the rear compartments, the ones disguised as stokers and skilled workers, had probably all died in the initial explosion.

Thump.

Still, somewhere nearby, one sticky presence continued to pulse.

Kwoooong.

At the end of the twisting corridor, I suddenly spotted a familiar silhouette.

"Yan?"

I hurriedly raised a hand and called his name.

"Yan!"

"......Huh?! Mister!"

So he was alive.

The Aran youth was still gripping the noble young lady's hand tightly. For some reason, I was glad to see these people I had only met for an instant. I took two mana stones from my coat and tossed them over.

"Take these and get upstairs right now."

Kwoooong!

Perhaps the tilt had passed its limit. Marble tables and furniture came crashing down from the floor above. I swung my arm, knocking aside the falling debris and clearing a path.

"Thanks, mister! But there's some kind of monster down there..."

"I know. Just get up there."

For some reason, I felt a kinship with him.

Maybe it was because his looks were his talent, just as mine were.

After shoving the two of them upward, I headed back toward the stench.

* * *

Thump. Thump.

The monster's footsteps echoed through the dark passageway. Charlotte ran breathlessly through the slanted corridor while the wet sound of flesh followed stubbornly behind her.

Thump. Thump.

Her self-defense pistol was already empty. No matter how many times she shot it, the thing would not die. Black vapor poured from the holes in its chest instead of blood, and with a grotesque sound, it used Restoration, healing in an instant.

Thump. Thump.

Jace Arshtel.

Could a person like that really exist in this world? If he were a demon, it would almost make more sense.

"......!"

Then she reached a dead end. The entire passageway was flooded with seawater.

Charlotte drew a sharp breath and turned around. In the darkness, the monster's burned facial muscles twitched, forming something like a smile.

Thump. Thump.

Just as it flailed its limbs and came charging toward her.

Bang!

A gunshot tore through the corridor's silence. Its head snapped back, and its movements faltered. Charlotte did not miss the opening. She released mana, and a gust of wind slammed into its body, throwing it back.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

More shots held the monster at bay.

Pshhhhh!

The smell of burning flesh rose from where the bullets had struck it. They were mana-infused silver bullets.

"Haa, haa..."

Then came the neat sound of dress shoes beside her.

Tap.

"Time really does move at a different density in each space."

It was Eli Zella. He lightly shook his pistol and stepped beside her.

"You..."

Charlotte stared at him blankly, but Eli urgently grabbed her and pulled her along. The thing had already risen again, leaving them no time to talk.

"Let's go."

The two ran through the flooding ship.

"......Why did you come down here?"

Splash, splash. Charlotte asked as they crossed the rising water.

"Just because."

Maximilian, as Eli, answered indifferently before adding,

"More importantly, I thought you might blame me for what I did on deck."

"......You did it to survive. I understand."

Some rules were necessary. In a situation like this, anyone had to survive.

If the standard was nothing more than race, that was clearly unfair. But then what standard should they use? Gender? Age? Wealth? Ability? They would all be dead before they finished debating it.

Charlotte was not the sort to carelessly condemn things she did not understand.

Kwaaaah!

The bulkhead ahead burst open, and water came rushing through. The torrent filled the corridor in an instant. As though caught in a reverse current, the two were swept backward.

Thump!

The monster, on the other hand, had become a beast.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump!

It crawled along the ceiling on all fours, its shape and posture utterly bizarre.

"Grab my hand!"

Eli reached out. Charlotte clasped his hand tightly.

Together, they threw themselves into the rising water. They swam toward a hatch connected to the floor above.

Creak.

They escaped the pursuing monster, opened the hatch, and climbed back into the ship's first floor.

"Over here!"

They ran at full speed and reached a half-crumpled door leading outside the hull.

Bang!

Eli opened the door first. Clutching the railing, he swung himself over it.

Both of them looked down, their eyes wavering for a moment.

Beyond the tilting ship stretched an ocean that seemed severed from the horizon. Lifeboats and rafts floated on the water.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump!

The monster's thunderous approach snapped them back to their senses.

"Are you ready to jump?"

It was about thirty meters down. High, but survivable.

"Of course. I want to live."

Charlotte nodded without showing fear.

Eli suddenly looked back.

Thumpthumpthumpthumpthump!

The monster was still coming. It was terribly persistent.

"That bastard can swim well, too. If we leave it alone, it'll eat the others on the lifeboats as well. Don't you think?"

Charlotte hesitated at his words. There was something suspicious in what he meant.

Before she could do anything, though.

"I'll handle this."

Push.

He shoved her in the back.

"Wait..."

As she fell over the railing toward the sea, she saw his smile.

"Survive."

Splash!

Charlotte's body vanished beneath the surface. Watching her shrink into a dot in the distance, Maximilian slowly stood.

He looked at the thing approaching him.

"......"

Now it was time to end the act.

He rolled up his wet sleeves and stretched a hand into the air. The air trembled as though he were grasping for something.

Wooooong.

A slow, rippling pulse came from far away.

Puddles in the slanted corridor stirred with faint ripples, and moonlight beyond the shattered windows gathered into a narrow beam.

Before long, a streak of light flew into his hand.

It was the Ebenholtz longsword.

"!"

The monster howled and leaped. In its eyes, the man was nothing but a small piece of prey holding a single sword.

He swung it.

Flash.

Only the trajectory remained, leaving not even the sensation of cutting.

The monster's body paused in midair, then slash!

A wound split open from shoulder to flank, spewing dark red vapor.

It retreated without even realizing when it had been cut.

The wound quickly healed, but Maximilian did not pursue it.

There was no need.

Swish.

He drew transparent lines through the air and across the ground.

Inside these lines was his domain. Beyond them was the place where the creature would die.

Ebenholtz swordsmanship had always been a defensive art.

A fence that blocked the intrusion of lesser beings. The sword of nobles, handed down from the first movement that drove a stake into the center of the thousand-year Empire.

"!"

The monster rushed in.

Slash.

The instant it crossed the line, its right arm vanished from the elbow down.

Slash.

The blade retreated before its movement, circled to the left, and struck. Its left thigh split apart without a sound.

Slash.

The monster climbed the ceiling. There were lines on the ceiling as well. Its long outstretched arm was severed.

Slash.

No cutting motion could be seen. Maximilian merely stood at the center of a semicircle with his sword lowered.

Slash.

The monster could not understand. It did not know where its flesh was being carved away, or when the pain began.

Because it could not understand, it could not learn. And because it could not learn.

Slash.

It could only be shaved down forever in the same place, the same way.

Slash.

No matter how many times it reached out.

Slash.

No matter how many times it kicked and scrambled.

Slash.

Even as it poured out its life force to regenerate, crossed the lines again with its restored flesh, and was cut apart every time.

Slash.

It could not reach him.

It could not touch even the hem of Maximilian's clothes, much less disturb a single ripple in the puddle beneath his feet.

Slash.

Because Ebenholtz reigned from a height that lesser beings could never reach.

* * *

The Titan was sinking.

In the ship's wheelhouse, Captain Erio faced the slowly advancing water.

"......"

The Titan's life had already come to an end. Seawater rushed in through the grounded hull, and the interior decorations had been swept away by the waves, becoming grotesque wreckage.

Even so, a captain was the owner of a ship.

Erio rested a hand on the wheel as the water came in, lost in thought.

It felt as though his life were passing before his eyes.

Had it begun with cleaning decks?

The cargo ship he boarded at fourteen. The days when salt water split the skin on the backs of his hands and ropes tore the skin from his palms.

The night he first learned knots from a senior sailor, and the lukewarm beer he drank after surviving his first storm.

The heartbeat of a ship, transmitted to his fingertips on the day he first held the wheel.

After spending so many years here, he had learned one truth.

The reason a ship could float on the sea was people.

Decades. Dozens of ships.

He had carried someone's immigration, someone's escape, someone's honeymoon, someone's voyage, and all the weight that came with them. Not once had he lost a ship.

......Today would be no different.

Cold drops of water fell onto the back of the hand gripping the wheel.

There was an old saying among sailors.

A ship departed with its captain as its final passenger.

He would have to apologize to the wife waiting at the harbor.

Still, taking the very last turn aboard a ship carrying three thousand people.

That was the wage of this profession, and Erio had held the wheel his entire life knowing he would be paid that wage.

He slowly ran a hand over the wheel, like stroking the mane of a beloved horse he had ridden for years.

"......What in the world happened here?"

A voice came from behind him. Erio turned around.

It was Victor Heim. His expensive clothes had been torn to rags in several places, and the usual ease in his eyes had been replaced by sharp malice.

"It was my fault."

Erio answered calmly.

An iceberg, perhaps. Or some other reason. He did not know why the ship had ended up this way, but there was even less point in asking now.

"But that isn't the problem."

There were still many passengers who needed to survive.

Victor Heim was one of them.

"If you want to live, head to the rear of the ship. You'll be able to save your life."

A terrible fury appeared on Victor Heim's face. His lips twitched as he glared at Erio.

"No. It is a problem. Your incompetence..."

Something like bloodshot hatred filled his eyes.

Erio felt as though he understood why, yet he did not.

"Haa..."

Victor Heim closed his eyes for a moment. Heavy breathing filled the wheelhouse.

"......"

He turned to leave, then suddenly stopped.

"I'm sorry, Captain."

He pulled a pistol from inside his coat.

"My patience isn't generous enough to tolerate this failure."

Bang!

The gunshot was swallowed by the sound of waves. Captain Erio's body folded helplessly and collapsed.

Victor Heim hurried up to the deck.

It was chaos.

At the place where hastily made rafts were being lowered into the sea, sailors led by First Mate Rusen were struggling to maintain order.

"Children and women first! Step back!"

"Get the children and women aboard first! Hurry!"

Ignoring the sailors' cries, Victor Heim shoved through the crowd.

"Hey! Wait your turn!"

A passenger grabbed his arm, but Victor roughly shook them off.

"Don't spout that bullshit! My life is worth more than thousands of you!"

He forcibly climbed onto a raft that was about to be lowered. The startled sailors hurried to pull him off, but he drew his pistol and aimed it at them.

"......"

Rusen looked into Victor's seawater-soaked eyes. They were already the eyes of someone who had lost all reason.

There was not even time to argue.

Rusen gave the order in a tired voice.

"Let him go."

At that, the sailors released the rope. The raft carrying Victor Heim floated out into the sea where mist drifted over the water.

"Ptooey!"

Rusen spat at Victor's retreating back. Just as he turned to face the people left behind again.

Kraaaack!

The hull screamed.

The mana lights that had illuminated the deck all night without going out flickered at once.

Once.

Twice.

Then the entire ship went dark, as though closing its eyes.

Kugugugung!

The huge body swallowed by the night toppled over. Its bow plunged beneath the surface. Its stern rose toward the sky, then snapped at the root and collapsed.

Everything aboard, countless people, rafts, and cargo, poured down the slanted deck into the black sea.

Krrrrrack! Crack!

Steel tore apart with a deafening roar. The giant called the Titan broke in two.

The half toward the bow sank into the abyss, while the remaining stern stood upright on the surface for a moment.

Everyone on the sea looked up at that brief silence without breathing.

Kooooo.

The stern sank slowly, very slowly, as though sliding away.

A whirlpool formed on the surface, churning like a mouth eager to swallow the surrounding wreckage and people.

Then.

Silence.

The sea became calm as though nothing had happened.

No, the sea had always been calm.

Fragments of the once splendid banquet hall scattered everywhere, and hundreds of blue mana lights from life jackets flickered through the mist.

The lifeboats that had already departed vanished into the distance, while rafts tied together with rope floated precariously on the waves.

* * *

I closed my eyes beneath the sea.

Slowly, I sank.

The world became strangely quiet.

The screams above the surface, the ever irritating sound of a ticking second hand, even the pulse beneath my collarbone, none of them seemed able to follow me down this deep.

For a moment, it seemed like dying this way would not be so bad.

No.

It seemed like it would be easy.

If my death could free me from all this exhausting pain and anguish.

If I no longer had to bear the weight I carried...

"......"

Among the countless lives I had cut down today, there had surely been good people.

People who called out someone else's name before their own. Sailors who said they would hold their posts until the very end.

Their deaths, those who had willingly tried to sacrifice themselves for others, had happened because of me.

Yet their goodwill had later been exploited by the enemies' malice, and in the end, it became the spark that destroyed the world.

That was why this was my choice.

Maximilian Ebenholtz.

I was only a weak man.

Not once had I ever thought my nature was strong.

I had simply liked living as things came.

Happy when I was happy, sad when I was sad, ignorant when I did not know.

Raising a puppy, marrying someone I loved, having children.

That much was all my vessel had originally been meant to hold.

Then I learned every truth.

If I was the only one who knew, complaining that my vessel was too small could not be a reason to lay down my duty.

So this was as far as I would sink.

"......!"

When I opened my eyes, someone was descending toward me.

I looked at her as she came closer.

A face blurred by the currents.

Schatz Heizen.

A smile slipped out, and bubbles escaped from my lips. She looked angry, as though telling me not to smile, covered my mouth with her hand, and pulled me upward.

Even her swimming was absurdly fast.

What was she, a torpedo?

"Pwah!"

"......What happened?"

On the surface, Schatz asked in a sulky voice. I had only sent a brief explanation in the letter.

"......"

I brushed my wet hair back and looked at Schatz.

"I killed a lot of people."

At that confession, weighted with so much meaning, Schatz quietly watched me.

"I mean, I killed so many..."

Her eyes were as calm as a lake. They held no judgment, only an even gaze.

That steadied me.

"Was it necessary?"

Schatz's sudden question came back to me, and I...

I did not know.

I really did not know.

Maybe I had been wrong this time.

No, had I been right before?

Had there ever been even one time when I was right?

I swallowed the urge to answer that way.

Saying I did not know was laying down half the burden of my sins.

It was irresponsible abandonment.

It was not respectful to the dead.

If I had cut them down without conviction, then they had died for nothing.

So I swallowed every word.

I thought of the faces, names, and final voices of the countless people I had killed who were not Izenheim, and once more.

I tempered my heart.

"......It absolutely was."

It had been necessary.

It had been something I had to do.

Footnotes:

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