〈 Episode 302 〉 How to face death (1)
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The sword of death, Ganicalt.
When the most feared disasters appeared, a strange wind would blow. A wind that carries the scent of rot and decay. Some people express it that way, but…
However, that doesn’t mean it’s a bad smell.
It’s not a bad smell. It’s vague even though it’s a smell.
It is the scent of death. The scent of death approaching. A wind that awakens the most primal fears that all living things harbor.
Sarah.
Therefore, the blowing wind is death.
Death is coming.
The most fearful disaster is coming.
I flinch.
Lark shakes his shoulders.
The body becomes rigid, and the eyes shake like crazy. Cold sweat flows down my spine like rain. The upper and lower teeth meet with a clicking sound.
“Move.”
“Shoot,” Raniel grabs Lark’s shoulder.
Raniel’s eyes widened as he pushed Lark behind his back. Raniel feels her fear as well, but for her, this is not the first time she has felt fear.
Even though he is afraid, Raniel does not forget what he must do.
Raniel’s body moved reflexively.
Her eyes flash blue, and the gloves she is wearing begin to burn with a hissing sound. Her gloves, unable to withstand the heat of her circuits, became ashes. Her blue mana blooms everywhere.
‘where are you.’
Raniel grits his teeth and looks around.
Although it was only a split second, I could definitely feel the presence of death. There is no way to forget its presence. The prophecy was wrong, and the sword of death appeared in this place. That’s what Raniel decided.
But, why?
Only a ray of wind passed by, and the presence of death was no longer felt. Even if I wait for her for a while while raising her mana, the situation does not change.
“······.”
Still not letting his guard down, Raniel steps back, dragging Lark with him. How many steps did he take back like that? Suddenly the wind blew. Someone’s voice was heard in the driving snowstorm.
“Anyway… it’s still awful.”
A voice that breaks and echoes.
“If you’ve lost your reason, if you’ve fallen into despair… isn’t it okay to be a little weak? Master. You are still strong despite your ignorance. Really, damn it…”
It’s a voice I’ve never heard before.
However, Raniel knows the voice that rings like this. I’ve heard it once before.
‘···Kurakt Mountains, the road to the tower.’
A place where the flow of mana is twisted and twisted.
A place where you can catch a glimpse of the traces of those who passed that path in the past. The same phenomenon that happened there was happening here now.
“He’s like a damn teacher.”
Raniel looked ahead.
What comes into her sight is a vision of someone who walked this path in the distant past. Someone is walking along a path that leads from a snowy field during a blizzard to a forest, and from the forest to a sacred place.
Pure white hair.
Eyes as red as blood.
A vision of someone who resembles Lark.
He coughs up blood and starts walking. Leading his battered body, he heads to the Holy Land. The sound of the great sword being held in that hand dragging the floor continues to be heard.
A strangely shaped greatsword with a hole in it.
It is Ganicalt’s sword stuck in the center of the sacred place. Raniel suddenly realizes whose illusion it is that he is seeing.
‘Progenitor of the Grace family.’
Lark, who was standing behind Raniel, also recognizes that person. He has been seen in a portrait remaining in the White Night Castle. The great Grace, the progenitor of my family.
“···Grace?”
This is the moment when Lark muttered that.
Is it a coincidence, or perhaps inevitable? The illusion also turned its head and looked back at Lark. The gaze is not directed at Lark. Probably standing there in the past…
“Master.”
Lark shakes his shoulders.
He didn’t look back, but he seemed to know what was standing behind him.
“Was I a prosecutor?”
Death answered human questions.
“I’m not a prosecutor.”
“Is that so.”
“He may not be a swordsman, but he is a proud warrior.”
Grace laughs at the answer.
Refreshingly, as if he was completely satisfied.
“Thank you for the compliment, Master.”
With those words, Grace walks to the shrine again with her eyes facing forward. Death does not chase humans. The sound of his sword swinging once was heard, and the sign of death disappeared from nowhere.
“···What is this?”
Raniel is embarrassed.
She blinked her eyes, not knowing what she had just seen or why a phenomenon like the Kurakt Mountains had occurred in the Holy Land.
That’s the moment.
“I have to go.”
Lark spoke as if possessed by something.
“I have to go there.”
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There is no time for Raniel to stop him.
Lark took a step forward. Thump, thud, thud, thud, my heart is beating loudly. Lark took steps as if being drawn by something.
“for a moment···!”
It would be faster for the driving snow storm to engulf Lark than for Raniel to grab that arm. In an instant, a snow storm engulfs Lark.
It’s a disaster.
When the storm cleared, Lark was nowhere to be seen.
2.
“···The Holy Land swallowed Lark?”
Erjahl van Grace, Master of the North, blinked. Rania, standing in front of him, explained everything she had experienced to Eryahl.
A blizzard hit the Holy Land.
The sacred place reflects an illusion of the past.
He told the whole story that the illusion was the progenitor of the Grace family, and that Lark followed him as if possessed.
After hearing those words, Eryahl was silent.
After a moment, Erijl opened his mouth.
“professor.”
“yes.”
“Don’t you have the ability to enter the Holy Land? Or, the warrior who came here as well.”
Rania nodded.
Certainly, you and Kyle can reach the end of the sacred place without much difficulty. This is something I did once before. but···.
“It was possible when I visited the North before, but it is not possible now. “Currently, the entire area, including the sacred site, is very unstable.”
“···space?”
“It’s hard to explain, but the space in the area is mixed up. “I looked ahead and jumped into the sacred area, but ended up coming out in the wrong place.”
The flow of time and space are all mixed up. Like a land of ashes. I was sure I looked ahead and walked for about ten minutes, but by the time I got out of the snowstorm, half a day had passed.
Several conversations took place after that.
At the end of the conversation, Eryahl slowly opened his mouth.
“…Did you say you saw a vision of Grace?”
“Yes, it looks a bit like Lark…”
“Lark followed the progenitor’s illusion?”
Rania nodded.
Erijl smoothed his chin.
“Are you sure it was Lark’s choice?”
“under oath.”
“Then I have no intention of holding you responsible either. And this is just my intuition…”
Erjahl muttered.
“I don’t think there will be any problems.”
It is a Lark that has an excessively good sense from the beginning.
The rak walked towards the sacred place on its own feet. Erja Hl trusted his son’s judgment, and Erja Hl’s intuition also told him not to take the situation seriously.
It is a welcome from our ancestors who protected the North.
Since that illusion led future generations to the Holy Land, I do not believe there was any malicious intent.
“Let’s have the warriors wait in front of it. “Professor, you do what you have to do.”
Preparing for death.
Eryahl did not forget that that wizard had come to the North for that purpose. Also, how important a mission it is.
“Go and see.”
* * *
After escaping from the White Night Castle, Raniel headed straight to the Holy Land with the warriors. A bitter snowy wind was blowing through the sacred site, and the area around it was still twisted.
“······.”
There are no more illusions or changes. When seen from the outside, it is quiet… but Raniel cannot tell what is happening inside.
Suddenly, Raniel took out the Holy Grail from his arms.
The Holy Grail is shaking noisily.
The place where the shaking is heading is the center of the sacred site. The Holy Grail reacts more strongly than ever. As if reacting to something that exists in a sacred place.
A shaking chalice, a sword stuck in the center of a sacred place.
Raniel suddenly remembers the past.
When Raniel arrived at the center of the Holy Land last year, something occurred to him as he grabbed the holy sword stuck there. It is a means for humans to resist death.
But it’s so rare.
Because that possibility cannot be realized at the moment, I didn’t tell anyone.
“···Clash of souls.”
Raniel muttered it.
In the northern sacred place, the sword stuck in the center contains the soul of Ganicalt. Although it is only a fragment, it is clearly Ganicalt’s soul.
A clash of souls and souls.
If the starlight embraced by the holy sword and the shadow embraced by the sword held by death collide… wouldn’t it be possible to nullify the shadow, even if only for a moment? Raniel thought so.
‘But, as of now, it’s impossible.’
The Holy Sword refuses to be touched by unauthorized persons.
Ganicalt’s soul contained there allows only Grace’s bloodline. It is impossible for him, Kyle, or any sword superhuman to hold that sword in his hand.
This is something that only Grace’s bloodline can do.
That’s why Raniel saw potential in Lark.
If one day, Lark becomes a superhuman and is able to hold that sword… wouldn’t there be a glimmer of possibility? That’s what he thought when he held that sword.
Kyle breaks down the wall and becomes superhuman.
If that is not possible, the person who can replace Kyle is Lark. Lark becomes a superhuman and holds the holy sword.
That is the way to deal with death that Raniel thought of. How humans confront irresistible disaster and inevitable death. However, that is not possible right now.
“···Because it’s still not enough.”
The path to becoming a superman is long and difficult.
Lark has not yet become a superhuman. Therefore, that possibility was ruled out…
Goo, goo, goo.
Raniel is silent as he looks at the shaking chalice.
The wise man, Raniel Van Trias, has always carefully calculated everything given to him. There is no room for elements such as coincidence and luck to intervene in it.
Thorough calculation, perfect plan with no variables.
It is a habit that has been solidified since the time of the next Mage Tower.
Because you can’t rely on variables or luck when it comes to important experiments or situations. However, Raniel, who has experienced the battlefield for many years, knows.
‘variable.’
Variables always arise.
Either in a good way or in a bad way.
It happens that a knight with a strong spirit suddenly gives in, and it also happens that a knight who was always running away out of fear grits his teeth and rushes towards a strong enemy.
There is no need to look far for that variable.
Because Galahal was also part of that variable.
Even though he knows that such variables should not be included in the plan, Raniel comes up with a plan under the assumption of ‘maybe’.
“······.”
Raniel closed his mouth and took a step forward.
The place the walk is heading towards is the Kennel Snowfield.
A slightly different type of circuit was engraved on the Kennel snowfield that day. It is a spell that does not involve physical force, and there is no way it would work on Ganicalt.
But Raniel engraved it.
If an unexpected variable arises, in order to seize the opportunity without missing it.
3.
Time passes.
Flowing and flowing, the day of prophecy is just around the corner.
In the north, a procession of refugees continues. The Holy Knights gathered under the name of the saint help with the evacuation. A young warrior who is just now making his presence known is also there.
The ensuing evacuation procession is long and long.
Disaster comes to the North.
The most fearful disaster symbolizing death has appeared in the North, and no one dares to fight against it. Even most warriors leave.
However, there are some who keep their positions.
“I am the master of the North.”
Erijl van Grace.
“As a warrior who carries on the name of the great Grace, I can never abandon this land. “According to the progenitor’s will, we must show pride in the face of death.”
The master of the North protects the White Night Castle.
Beside him, there remain thirteen warriors who did not leave the north. They bow their heads before Eryahl.
“I can’t leave my son behind.”
“Sigh,” Eryahl laughs.
He resists death in his own way. The same goes for warriors. I have no intention of leaving this land, leaving my master and young master alone.
and.
Where everyone left.
A place where no one dares to approach.
“Are you ready?”
There are people who stand upright to prevent death there. Four humans prepare to face death in a snowy field.
“Sarah.”
“I’m going to recite a prayer from now on, so don’t talk to me. “I need to concentrate.”
The robe the saint wore fluttered in the wind.
The saintess begins to pray to God while holding a stone tablet that she does not usually take out.
“Remia.”
“I don’t think you are giving orders, but I will follow them because they are the words of the great savior. don’t worry.”
The shrine lays out moonlight arrows in the air.
Her moonlight arrows shine brightly under the moonlit night.
“Kyle.”
“okay.”
And, the hero holds the holy sword.
“Preparations are complete.”
The platinum-colored blade shines brightly.
The wise man laughs at the warrior’s holy sword he hasn’t seen in a long time. That light must indeed be a symbol of victory.
Saint Sarah.
Shrine, Remia.
Champion, Kyle Torben.
The wise man, Raniel van Trias.
The black storm decapitated the black dragon.
Defeated the ancient lich, Skebal, several times.
The apostate, Gletus, was driven to the brink of subjugation.
They have achieved feats that no one has been able to achieve over hundreds of years of history, and at this moment, they are standing here to face death. Of course, they do not have the same pride or nobility as they did in the past.
Nevertheless, they are standing here.
To achieve their respective goals. To protect the beliefs each person holds. To do what you think is right, even if it may be twisted.
They face death in their own way.
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fantasy,
