Chapter: 118
119. A Heart Bent and a Forgotten Tale (2)
Blood gushed out, bubbling and flowing.
The pain radiating from the weapon that pierced my heart was like a nightmare.
But, instead of a scream, a question emerged.
“When did this all start…?”
I had thought he was a dependable companion. We had saved each other countless times from the brink of death. And yet, it turned out to be all an act.
I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
But even so…
“Foolishness. To question me at this point is nothing short of stupid. You’ve faced so much and yet you haven’t grown at all.”
The only response was ridicule. I couldn’t help but understand the meaning behind those words.
“When I resolved the Magic Stone crisis, you should have doubted me instead of thanking me.”
From the very beginning of our journey,
“When I informed you that boy was a vessel, you should have asked how I knew that.”
All those experiences and hardships,
“And most importantly, you should have questioned the very existence of the Grail. Would the divine power that consumes humans truly create a miracle?”
Everything that had led me to this moment was nothing but a well-crafted play.
The old man twisted his mouth into a smirk.
He was laughing at me.
But no words came out. I couldn’t even muster up accusations or ask how he could do this.
“It’s all my fault.”
Even if I hadn’t wanted it, I had a duty thrust upon me. The futures of countless people rested on my shoulders.
Yet, I had… run away.
I had been running every time.
Leaning on my kind, thoughtful companions, I had thought to abandon the pain of reality and the responsibilities that weighed me down.
This was the result.
This was the end of my escape, the moment I had sworn I wouldn’t bend, only to ultimately snap.
But…
I gritted my teeth.
I had run and run until I reached this point.
I knew it was too late. My foolishness had ruined everything.
But that made it all the more crucial that I wouldn’t run away.
At this moment, I couldn’t flee.
The resolve I had made long ago to never bend again.
It didn’t mean I wouldn’t be defeated in any crisis and would only achieve victory.
In fact, it was quite the opposite.
I knew. I was a rather insignificant person. I would surely suffer humiliating defeats and collapse more times than I could count.
But even so, I wouldn’t let my heart bend.
No matter how painful it was, even if I wanted to run away, I would rise again.
That was the will I vowed to the Holy Sword.
So.
With trembling hands, I grasped the Holy Sword.
I knew it was feeble, just a mere flicker of hope. Still, I infused my will into the sword.
The Holy Sword dimly regained its light.
I immediately kicked off the ground and dashed away.
I needed to call for help.
The power of the Holy Sword was trying to heal my wounds somehow, but whatever curse had been cast upon it, my body was rejecting the divine power.
As I ran towards the priest, I stopped in my tracks. I didn’t want to repeat the same mistake.
The priest often conversed with that mage.
Besides, the Grail certainly felt infused with divine power.
Though it seemed that the mage had twisted that divine power into something nefarious, divine power was still divine power.
It wouldn’t hurt to be cautious.
So, who I should seek out now was…
“Aria.”
No one else.
My childhood friend who had been with me since we were kids.
The companion who had always supported me.
Now, she was with her daughter, Yuli.
Whether by chance or fate, Yuli was the chosen child as a Saint. And with Aria’s magical talent, she should be able to alleviate some of my injuries.
I hurriedly made my way to them.
The sleeping Yuli and Aria, who had been watching over her, turned startled as they heard my approach.
“Ian? What in the world…?”
“There’s no time. Wake Yuli up, let’s hurry and get out of here.”
I forced myself to suppress the pain so she wouldn’t worry and spoke.
And as she heard my words, Aria…
“Oh, finally this tiresome play is coming to an end.”
Gripping the blade still stuck in my heart, she twisted it.
I let out a scream and coughed up blood.
Yet, even still, Aria only looked at me with a chilling expression.
“Why…?”
Tears streamed down my face as I asked.
But the answer didn’t come from her. It came from someone else approaching.
The priest.
The appearance of a companion I had journeyed with, suddenly transformed.
A man I had only seen in photos.
The Pope of the Holy Church stood right before me.
“Did you not notice? This entire journey was merely a stage we created for this play.”
I could already guess what he would say next.
“Then how can you assert that your life hasn’t been a play as well?”
I couldn’t make that assertion.
I understood that I couldn’t assert it.
Yet, I wanted to believe.
The love of my mother and father.
The burning village and the last words left behind.
Once, we had fought all the time, but she had grown wise and had become my reason to live.
That couldn’t be a lie.
It couldn’t be false.
Yet all this situation was indicating otherwise. It all seemed to say that everything was a lie, that my life was merely a show for someone else.
Footsteps echoed in the room.
Golden hair glimmered brilliantly.
The Emperor of the Empire was gazing at me.
I asked him one last time. Why was he doing this to me?
“The reasons… there are many.”
The Emperor spoke.
He thought that by capturing me, he could bind the god connected to me. Therefore, there would be no one to hinder him.
If beasts rose to power, the world would fall into chaos, so he’d have to discard that wolf, but domination could be negotiated.
If that beast gained power, freedom would be erased from humanity. But wouldn’t that be something I would welcome?
Moreover, he had received a rather interesting proposal.
By disposing of you, I could merge with domination.
“Well, in the end, you were nothing but a pawn on the chessboard rather than the protagonist of the world.”
Upon hearing those words, I looked around.
I surveyed those I once thought were my companions.
They were all simply people who had used and deceived me.
Even that golden-haired old man, and the snow-haired man.
Even… Aria.
Everything I thought I knew crumbled. All I had believed was a lie.
A play constructed by someone.
I was just a puppet, unaware, struggling, and suffering on the strings.
A marionette dangling from the strings.
“Was there anything genuine in my life?”
I didn’t know.
I couldn’t grasp a single thing.
But I was certain of one thing.
I had made a mistake.
I should have doubted everything.
I could trust no one.
Even the lover I promised my life to was just another actor.
The only thing one could truly trust in this world was oneself.
If I wanted to succeed, if I truly wished to save the world, I should have trampled over others to move forward.
Had I done so, everything might have turned out right.
But it was far too late for regrets.
My eyes were closing. My head seemed to spin. Drowsiness washed over me like a tide.
The Holy Sword stained black.
Those around me laughed at me.
With that, my consciousness faded.
*
But… my true consciousness did not fade.
Not the previous Hero, but my soul, as a modern-day person, floated after the Hero’s death.
But the previous one was already gone. What was left for me to see in such a state?
Just then, the old man with golden hair spoke.
“Your character remains unchanged.”
The Emperor of the Empire stood before the corpse of the Hero and stated thus.
“Was it that obvious? How embarrassing.”
The white-haired man spoke, but his words and expression didn’t match at all. His face was devoid of any emotions, simply a hollow grin.
It was a face that made me wonder if he was even human.
“Well, it would be a lie to say my personal feelings aren’t involved. But he was the one chosen by that almighty god, wasn’t he?”
The man said, with disdain dripping from every word.
The “almighty god”—there was evident hatred in his voice when he said that.
It was clear that he felt something from the tale of losing a child.
He had once said he paid no mind to it in the last work, but assuredly the god of light was taking care of that child in a gentle voice.
But that was not the case at all.
Both the Emperor and that man were certainly up to something troublesome.
I strained to catch every word they shared as I heard another voice calling.
A voice calling for Ian. Not me, but the Black-haired Hero.
But that was strangely odd.
All the Hero party members were gathered here.
In such a situation, who would come running?
Regardless of my confused state, the urgent voice continued to echo.
Before long, someone burst through the doors with a loud bang.
And what came into my sight was…
Aria, panting and running toward me.
Not mocking the fool who had deceived and killed her husband but genuinely rushing in tears at the sight of her husband’s body.
The white-haired man laughed and snapped his fingers.
Simultaneously, the illusion of the fake Aria crumbled away in a burst of light.
…Only then did I realize what that “malevolent joke” truly was.
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