Chapter 206

Chapter 206

EP.206

“What—what the hell?!”

“Oh my, how rude. Are you spitting on the food?”

“What the—!! What the hell is this—!!?”

Isabelle, with trembling hands, pointed fingers wildly at Elpheira and Ivan.

“What is going on right now? Uh-huh. Right, it’s an illusion. E-E-Ecdysis, hit me just once!”

“Calm down.”

“Calm down?! Am I out of my mind?! O-Okay, this uncle wasn’t originally this kind of character!! What’s going on? What, what’s happening?”

“There’s a reason.”

It was merely to ensure meals for a poor elf war refugee who had tragically become an orphan and was made a refugee due to the war that broke out in Kalion (since Elpheira came as a refugee).

He declared that he wouldn’t put anything in his mouth unless it was hand-fed to him, but there was really no other way.

“I’m sorry. So sorry! So-sorry! Ahahaha!”

Elpheira took out a fan from somewhere and opened it wide as she burst into a commanding laugh. As a picture-perfect example of a villainous noble, Eugene couldn’t help but admire her.

“Y-You, you, you—.”

“Degenerative disease has set in, Isabelle. Calm down a little—.”

“It’s not! You’re making it impossible to calm down!”

The good Isabelle inside of her fell into panic while the dark Isabelle began to regress. In other words, the Isabelle administration had declared a withdrawal from governance.

Boasting of being a dark chef, all she was doing was “capturing them with gochujang prepared diligently over the vacation.” So, she had just cooked diligently, very much, and for a long time.

Was this the price for that? A mediocre scheme that couldn’t surpass moderation would inevitably crumble without direction.

Ah, was my resolve not enough?

Well, in an emergency situation, extraordinary measures are required.

For now, it seems I need to feed that elf.

“Brother, Isabelle’s eyes are going wild!”

“Oh Goddess, let Your anger sing.”

“Ecdysis’s eyes are going wild too?”

Ivan sighed deeply as he glanced over the crazed hero party.

“Did we eat enough?”

“Uh? It doesn’t look like there’s a mood for more eating, is there?”

“Then let’s clear up and have a meeting. It’s not suitable to talk about during a meal, so it’s actually a good thing.”

“Just one more bite! Ah!”

“You can replenish your nutrients with mana. Elpheira.”

Ivan pressed Elpheira’s mouth shut once again and stood up. Elpheira clicked her tongue.

“Follow me.”

“Let’s talk about history for a moment.”

Ivan wrote something on the sheet of paper spread across the table as he spoke.

Isabelle and Ecdysis, who were carelessly seated around the table, were still blank-faced, glancing at Ivan and Elpheira.

Regardless, it was a story that they had no choice but to focus on. Ivan completed his notes without worrying.

– The Tumor of the Mountain

– The Dragon of Sorrow’s Abiditas

– The Evil Pernich

“Two of the Seven Warlords killed by the hero party ten years ago, and Abiditas, who died four years ago. A total of three of the Seven Warlords are dead.”

No matter how chaotic it may seem, I had no choice but to regain my composure in this story. It was about our fathers and a history that couldn’t be casually dismissed.

In the atmosphere that had finally calmed down, Ivan continued his words.

“So, there are a total of four remaining warlords.”

– The Ruler, Tanashimor

– Lamerix of the Veil

– Olega of the Great Rift

– Nekinon of Gold

“Among these, the only one with a clearly known location is Olega, who has not moved a single time since the war era beyond the northern magical beast territory.”

This information belonged to military secrets that civilians could not access. It was common knowledge that most of the warlords were either dead or had self-destructed.

In the past, a single warlord had trampled two countries. It was a time when no one dared to oppose the warlords until the hero party emerged.

Even after defeating the Demon King and passing that era, if it were announced that most of the warlords were still alive, it would definitely lead to chaos among the civilians.

All leaders of the United Kingdom willingly concealed information about the warlords. As long as the hero party was alive, those individuals could never invade under the magical beast territory.

Those who believe themselves to be gods never gamble their longevity. As long as there exists a being that can kill a god within the United Kingdom, the warlords, who have no unifying center like the Demon King, will never join forces.

To put that another way...

“This means they have no reason to hold back any longer.”

The room held its breath at Ivan’s gaze. A foul stench of poison and dryness, reminiscent of iron and gunpowder, heavily lingered in the space between words.

The current peace was like walking on thin ice.

“Maximilian has disappeared, Jill Ber and Veolgrin are dead, and Einar cannot leave Drovian. Since Patricia has lost her divine power, it means there is no longer an active hero party equivalent to an immediate force, aside from Enrique.”

And even that Enrique cannot face the warlords alone. Her specialty is not direct combat.

Therefore, it implies that there is now no one left in the United Kingdom to directly counter the warlords.

And...

“Father would wish for that too.”

“Indeed. He would. If it’s Max.”

If it’s that morning star of a man...

The man who bore the curse of the Demon King and the Seven Warlords alone. The man who, for the past ten years, has endured without faltering.

He would smile even before death. As always, he would smile brightly and say:

“I’m glad.”

In a peace built upon the countless corpses of virtuous men, he was the man who, instead of speaking to the dead, said to the survivors, “I’m glad you are alive.”

Bearing all curses alone, even in moments when his soul was sullied.

“I’m glad to suffer this pain alone.”

He would say that with a smile. Therefore, when we meet again someday, if I must confront him, he will surely say that.

“It’s good to pause here.”

Without expressing anger or despair over his death and corruption. Holding only hope.

He finished preparations to bid farewell to an old friend. As he always did.

Ivan quietly nodded, then gently pressed Isabelle’s head down and patted it while whispering.

“Well done.”

While it was familiar to him, it would not have been so for her. How many days had she spent in pain until she could summon such determination? To kill the man everyone admired, whom she herself respected, to kill her parents.

So, Ivan quietly patted the sobbing Isabelle and closed his eyes.

“Well done.”

At least in the realm of the mind, the Hero Party is as formidable as it was back then.

*

On the way back to the orphanage, Elpheira silently followed Ivan for a long time.

Before long, they had reached the outskirts of Prichenkaya. When she caught sight of the orphanage’s walls in the distance while passing familiar roads, she suddenly stopped in her tracks.

Carefully, she opened her mouth towards the silently moving Ivan.

“Ivan.”

Stopping in the shadow of the dim streetlight, Ivan slowly turned his head.

“About me. The food has been so bad; I’ve gone ten days without eating.”

“Yeah.”

Elpheira kicked at the ground under the streetlight as she continued her words.

“I’m so hungry, but whenever I put something in my mouth, it makes me feel nauseous. I absolutely can’t eat anything. It’s like... I’d rather mix sand and feces to eat.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. And so... at that time, I had that thought.”

Elpheira’s eyes turned towards Ivan. She spoke while looking at his shadowy, dimly glowing blue eyes.

“I’m like this now, just barely touching the milestone.”

What about the man who directly plunged the sword into that being and cut off its breath?

If that man were to rise again, how would he see the world?

It’s so sad. The destruction of Kalion... For someone who is merely human, not even an elf, to throw himself into danger and sacrifice his life to fight desperately, only to achieve this result.

If this is all there is to show for it, with no compensation, only bearing a curse.

The absurdity of it all made Elpheira weep endlessly until Ivan awoke.

It was a time too harsh for the starving elf. Weeks passed where she fainted, woke up to drink a sip of water, attempted to eat soup only to retch it all out, and then fainted again while sobbing.

“Don’t try to do everything alone. We... came together to fight. We gathered to save the world together.”

“Elpheira.”

If everyone shared the burden of the curse, then yes. The burden would be a little lighter.

But that would only result in four more individuals falling into despair.

There’s a threshold to despair. Diminishing returns exist. No tragedy can be worse than death. In other words, there is clearly a limit to the pain one person can endure.

So that means, no matter how many curses one takes on, it is clearly more rational for one person to bear it than for everyone to share the suffering.

If the soul is already tainted by killing the Seven Warlords, how much difference would it make if another layer is added on top?

Even Maximilian killed the Seven Warlords with that mindset. And if anyone from the hero party had recognized that curse by being the first to kill the Warlord, they would have acted the same way.

Because it was the most rational thing to do.

And he killed Abiditas. His soul was already corrupted, and he had fundamentally broken down since that day. So...

“It’s late.”

Without needing to explain such words, he smiled and gently pushed her into the orphanage entrance.

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow morning.”

Elpheira stared at his dried-up smile for a long time before quietly nodding and turning around.

A damp sob could be heard behind her.

*

Author’s Note: I’m sorry for the missed update yesterday! I will make up for it on Saturday...!! I packed all my apologies tightly! It’s very reassuring!

I once mentioned that when I explain the Seven Warlords, I drew inspiration from the Seven Deadly Sins. Now, after over 200 chapters, I’m finally happy to reveal all remaining Seven Warlords! Some of you may have already caught on to the remaining details from the context so far!!

*

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