Chapter: 192
Ivan has nightmares every night. Occasionally there were days without dreams, but there were never days without nightmares. Thus has passed 30 years of his life.
Depending on his experience, the subject of the nightmares would change each time. If they were nightmares from his childhood, it would be typical to dream of dying miserably in this primitive world.
Freezing, starving, and dying a lifetime without experiencing any of his homeland’s culture, collapsing as a pitiful serf.
If that was the form of the early nightmares, it was different during his military service.
Dying comrades, burning Frechenkaya, and demons thrusting their blades with glowing red eyes in the depths of coniferous forests.
Under the broken military banner of Krasilov, amidst the desolation of this country’s burned foundations, he would often dream of wandering while clutching a charred corpse.
And when his long military service finally came to an end. His nightmare became fixated on one scene.
“Colonel, live long. Come as late as possible. If you come early, I’ll be insubordinate.”
The hot blood warming his nape.
The increasingly lighter body of the woman carried on his back.
In the pouring rain, her cold, long hair stuck to his cheek.
The last breath chillingly scattered in his ear.
“Please.”
Ivan grabbed the sleeve of the assigned priest and fell apart. No matter how much healing potion was poured, the wounds that would not close, asking him to please heal them.
The priest closed the open eyes of the woman on his back and crossed himself over her.
He remembers it vividly.
Not a single moment has been forgotten.
Every night, the emotions from that time writhed within the old scar, constricting his heart.
“Sergei, Nikolai, Polina, Anna, Valeria, Alinya, Leonid, Visali, Sasha, Anatoly, Yuliya, Victoria, Kserinya, Yelchina, Roman, Artem…”
The faces of all who fell before Abiditas, their families, their personalities and voices, their hobbies, and what they loved are remembered.
Every night, he fell apart while recalling all the dying comrades.
As a tribute for the dead, he took in and fed war orphans.
In return, while leaning on the sofa for a moment of dozing to regain at least a minimal amount of sleep, holding the guilt for the dead.
“Colonel.”
At night, when he opened his eyes in a cold sweat, the faces he always saw were.
The silhouettes reflected in the window at night, the reflections of shimmering curtains in the mirror.
“Live long.”
They do not blame him.
Always smiling at him, repeating the same words.
“Cherenovika.”
She liked roses.
He learned that thanks to Kim Sunwoo’s small courage. The strong woman who smiled even when her abdomen was torn by Taurus shed tears for the first time when she received a rose from Kim Sunwoo.
So, Ivan whispered as he sharpened an axe again on the sofa for the remaining night, the remaining time.
“Sergei, Nikolai, Polina, Anna….”
Even if the wounds are healed, the scars remain.
Even if people perish, memories do not vanish.
Even if he loses all motivation and fades away, this emotion. At least that one will never disappear.
“Alexander….”
He remembers the red smile of the young man stamping the orders.
Scrape… scratch…
With a sharpness that divided the dust on the day, mechanically pushing it away. Whispering dryly, continuing with the grindstone.
“She liked roses.”
Not now.
Krasilov is on the brink of civil war, with no remaining state capacity to withstand the next war. The economy of this country is extremely poor, winter is threatening, and it has just begun rehabilitation.
Princess Elizaveta is fighting a tough battle. If he assassinates the Crown Prince, the military administration would move immediately. Then, can a princess with just the Counterintelligence Command truly revive the kingdom?
If another civil war breaks out, this nation will surely perish. And that would be an insult to all the heroes who died for the future of this country.
Not wanting that, great king, and countless comrades who faded away in vain.
He endures. He has endured. For patience is one of the things he is most confident in.
Dull scrape, scrape. In the deep night, grinding the axe’s blade. Ivan whispered the names of his comrades.
Such time passed for over four years.
Occasionally there were days without dreaming, but there were never days when the dreams weren’t nightmares.
EP 31. Remember.
In Idrenhill, a flower rain falls. The sky was opening with a warm breeze.
The giant tree that grew, shattering the Evergreen Palace, slowly scattered. The colossal tree made of monstrous creatures slowly dispersed.
The corpses of the monsters shattered and turned to mana. The gathered and twisted mana scattered in the breeze and sublimated into flower petals.
As she orchestrated all these miracles, Elpheira smiled slowly.
“Yes, Father. I love you too.”
She had loved him.
A warm wind tousled her hair. A petal fell softly onto her white nose. It tickled her so badly.
Hic…
Elpheira buried her face and started to sob.
Ivan could feel the divine power escaping.
He swung all the weapons thrown by the survivors of the Swordsmanship Faction and Cleanup Unit until they turned to dust. Absorbing the divinity from the fragments of the divine and converting it back into offense.
As a result, the queen was crumbling before his eyes.
Looking at the bright eastern horizon, she reached out her trembling hand, struggling.
“The shadow of the deity is fading. At last, the world is visible… opening…”
The queen slowly knelt. The milestone stopped. The artifact that had endured for thousands of years finally ceased to pulse.
Divinity was escaping from the queen’s body. The divine force that soared from her shoulder blades, like wings, scattered like scales into the sky beyond.
The queen gazed at her trembling hands. They were slowly turning to dust from the fingertips.
“I express my gratitude to you…”
Ivan raised his head at her words. However, the queen was not looking at him.
She was whispering to someone behind him.
“I shall not forget His Majesty’s sacrifice.”
“O, astronomer of the heavens. Now… is the auspicious day visible…?”
“Yes, Your Majesty. The whole sky is auspicious.”
“Is that so? Then it is settled.”
In the gripping fatigue where he could barely move a finger, Ivan lifted his head. Beside him, on one knee, stood a robed man.
Shimmering golden hair that sparkled like a wheat field flowed beneath the hood blown by the wind. Pointed ears peeking out cheerfully pierced the sky.
Green eyes looked down at him.
“Veolgrin.”
“Our hunting dog. You’ve done well.”
“You were… alive.”
“Not yet.”
Veolgrin smiled faintly.
“Do not blame the queen. She willingly sacrificed herself to complete the vessel of the divine.”
“I do not blame.”
Ivan shook his head. He has never hated an enemy simply because they were enemies. He only fought as necessary.
At his words, the queen smiled lightly.
“Guest. We all were puppets held by the astronomer, but now that the game has ended…”
The queen looked up at the sky, then lowered her head.
“I shall bless you. You, the savior of our people. You shall never bow before any king or ruler.”
With those final words, she scattered into dust. He felt the last traces of divinity fading away.
“…It needed a soul that could maintain its self amidst the malice of the deity. Even if it had lost reason due to that dreadful distortion, someone who could die as a person at the last moment. There are but a handful of such souls in this world.”
Veolgrin grasped a handful of the queen’s dust blowing away in the wind and bowed briefly.
He then scattered the dust toward the distant sea of Idrenhill and spoke.
“If it’s alright, may I pass the privilege of naming?”
“Hmm.”
“Eternal Senasgeor. It means winter lasting for millennia in our people’s language.”
“Sounds good.”
“The concept I managed was appetite. The deity of gluttony.”
“Is that so?”
“And I shall take the blessing.”
Veolgrin looked at Ivan with a gentle smile.
“While it may not have no influence at all, at least it won’t last forever.”
“Hmm.”
“Can I entrust my daughter to you? She also has merit in handling this, so in this ambiguous situation, it won’t be without influence. Now that child is not alone.”
No one can look after her meals, so just make sure she does not go hungry.
Veolgrin’s figure was gradually fading. Ivan looked at him, then tightly closed his eyes and nodded.
“I will do so.”
“Please take care of Patricia.”
“Understood.”
“I’m sorry. I had many requests. Though there were things I did not accomplish, there’s no room for me now.”
“Hm.”
A calm conversation continued.
Ivan nodded in response as if it were nothing.
At that, Veolgrin moved his nearly fading lips and smiled warmly.
“Really, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.”
“The things you have to do… will be harder than what you’ve done. I should have helped you more… I’ve always been indebted to you since those days.”
“It’s my duty.”
“Haha… ha ha ha… is it your duty? You are an outsider from another world. Truly, many will owe you a debt.”
Veolgrin asked quietly.
“No one will understand your dedication.”
“It’s fine.”
“Your achievements will scatter without any honor.”
“I’m used to it.”
“At the end of this journey, you will never close your eyes in peace.”
“That’s true.”
The astronomer asked him one last time.
“Then, will you not stop and continue on? Is that something you can do?”
“I have tried.”
At Ivan’s reply, Veolgrin chuckled wearily and splashed his face with cold water.
He nodded and looked up at the sky.
“Really… thank you, Ivan. I’m getting a bit tired now. I wish we could have been together longer. I’m sorry.”
“… Rest… easily….”
Ivan, who had his eyes closed, replied in a cracking voice.
“Rest well.”
My long-time friend.
When he lifted his head again, the man had vanished without a trace.
Only the clear sky remained, and he was alone atop the broken palace.
As he slowly counted to five, Ivan, who had been seated with his head lowered, straightened himself up again.
Tightly gripping a half-broken longsword with no owner.
*
Mana returned.
The elves heading toward the Evergreen Palace slowly steadied themselves, gazing at the shadow of the departing malevolent deity.
Twelve academies were gathering at Idrenhill. All elves were political beings, so the time of arrival at Idrenhill was not significantly different.
Hundreds of ships densely filled the waters surrounding Idrenhill, and the airborne battleships that had begun to rise again glided through the sky.
Holding high the insignia and military banners of the academies, the Councilors began to gather at the harbor once more.
Now there is no deity. The milestone has stopped, winter has ended, and spring has arrived.
The fact that the milestone, which promised eternal prosperity, has stopped means.
That the elves can now wage “civil war” against each other.
Since all forces impeding prosperity have lost their compulsion.
War is merely an extension of politics, after all.
The next throne, the Council that will gather again, and the numerous interests held by those who have passed away must be obtained through such “radical” politics.
