Chapter 39

Name:Tale of the Fake Hero Author:No Name
Chapter 39 – Third Connection: Lightning, Heavenly Castle, Iron Cross (1)October, 1697 AD…

The human coalition forces sealed the Mauna Roa and defeated the demon invasion in the Battle of the Red Mountains.

The demons who’d gathered there suffered a crushing blow and were scattered.

Meanwhile, Kaisen Alter Aradamanetel was credited with defeating the Daemon, the King of Lizard, just as his mother, Raminea Alter Aradamantel, had.

It was a splendid achievement that broke the brunt of the demon offensive, but humanity also suffered great losses. So much so that the soldiers of the time couldn’t appreciate the legendary victory

The 2nd Field Army had lost half of their forces, and the 1st and 3rd Field Armies had barely maintained the front line, each losing around 30% of their forces.

The Mauna Roa had destroyed the defensive systems over the mountain range.

That was all just a portion of what Kaisen heard after regaining consciousness.

“Ha! First, I’ll admit… you have a reason for such an arrogant attitude. Of course, I’m only acknowledging this much!” Those were the first words Teval said to him as he pressed down on his chest with his index finger.

Piles of corpses waited to be collected and removed, so there was no time to toast or rest. The entire 1st Field Army was being deployed for the task, and Kaisen joined in the labor as soon as he woke up.

After Teval made a fuss during their meeting, he leaned his dragonbone spear on his shoulder and left.

“Don’t be surprised. That’s how Teval praises people. I think you might make a good combat duo,” Mern said.

The Knights of the Iron Cross grinned and flicked gold coins at each other as they looked at Teval.

“You were amazing. That blow from earlier…”

“Not only did he blow away a Hai-khun-tark chief in one strike, but he also competed against such a massive Daemon! I’ve never seen anything like that before!”

“My whole body was shaking! Should I call you ‘Daemon Slayer’ now instead of ‘Uruk Slayer’?”

The soldiers all expressed their admiration, but Kaisen couldn’t get used to it on the debris-covered battlefield. Was it because he thought it was a betrayal of his former colleagues?

“Aren’t you too quiet for a person who played a leading role in victory?” a white-haired beauty asked with a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Seira Alter Solang. Though the smile was evident on her lips, her eyes held no trace of it. “I heard you were a big deal against the Daemon? Even here, there are rumors.”

“I didn’t do it alone.”

“Really? If it were Isla, she would be running around the neighborhood and saying it was all her. Aww, that would be cute.”

It really seemed like something the dragon girl would do.

“That’s Isla’s charm.”

“Oh, look at this guy. Do you have such feelings for Isla?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Fake Warriors are not allowed to court or marry.”

“Honestly, I just asked if you had feelings, so how far can such things go? I guess you’ve already thought of grandchildren?”

“I’ve never done such a thing,” Kaisen argued.

“Tell me honestly… I’m not going to tell anyone. How many children do you have in mind?”

“I didn’t think about it.”

“Why don’t we create a legion? With your powers combined, we will rebuild the dragon legion… It can be the so-called Isla Junior Army! Thousands of children who look just like Isla!”

Thousands of Isla…? That seemed terrible. Wouldn’t that cause a global food shortage? Not to even mention how much his ears would bleed each day.

“You can’t stop something like that. It would be so cute that even would die as soon as they woke up from the cuteness overload.”

Kaisen shook his head. “Stop it. I’m not in the mood to mess around. Did you forget that Fake Warriors can’t marry?”

His father’s and mother’s smiles flashed through his mind and pierced a hole in his heart.

Kaisen sharply shook his head in an attempt to drive the memory away before it caused too much damage. “So, how is Isla? Did you meet her after the battle? Is she safe?”

Seira curled her lips as if she were disappointed. “She’s so healthy that it’s causing problems. She was angry because you took away her job.”

“That’s just like her.”

“Yeah. Ophelia was secretly competing with you, but she ended up leaving first.”

There was silence for a moment; Seira politely saluted over her shoulder and walked away.

Loveris approached, looked between Seira’s back and Kaisen’s expression, and asked, “Are you afraid?”

“What do you mean?”

“It seems like you’re afraid of forming relationships with others.”

“…”

“Kaisen, cherish your classmates. They are the only companions who can understand your destiny.”

“Is that so?” Sёarch* The Nôvel(F)ire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Kamila also became a lot darker after the ‘Black Summer’ ended, but she was always close to Sharon.”

Loveris’s insight was like a sharp blade—surely enough, a void had appeared in Kaisen’s heart at an early age and expanded to an unbearable size when his childhood ended.

Her words only drove a deeper pain through him.

“My mother died protecting me, and the White Bone Corps met the same end,” Kaisen said.

“…”

“I’m afraid of becoming friends with someone because I know that it will only end in pain.”

Loveris was dressed in plain clothes thanks to the squires and servants that’d helped her take off all her brilliant, rose plate armor.

She took a diary from her pocket and showed it to Kaisen. “This is my diary. I use it to record my life.”

“…?”

“Once upon a time, when my student was dying, I couldn’t help but wonder what she wanted to say with her final breaths. She kept painfully trying to tell me something, but death took her before she could finish.”

A quiet sadness lingered in Loveris’s eyes as she looked back at the corpses littering the earth. “I have a younger brother who’s two or three years younger than you. He turns sixteen this year. Anyway, I keep writing down what I want to say to him.”

A sibling… He seemed to faintly hear the voice of his sister, Ratel, who had always been nice to him as her younger brother.

She must have died that day as well, her body unable to be found in the ruins.

“Why do you think I do that?” Loveris asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Why write when, the more he knows about me, the more pain he’ll suffer after I die, right? That’s what your expression is saying. Don’t deny it.”

Kamila had thought the same thing, which was why she always tried to bluntly push Kaisen away.

“Kaisen, I think that, since we have become heroes, even if we’re fake, our lives are not just ours.”

What was Loveris envisioning and talking about? Her words held an intellectual depth akin to a scholar’s. Was it possible because she was always reading books and writing?

“I don’t want to convey the magnitude of the despair I experience through this diary. I want to convey how I overcame it while praying that it can become a source of hope and guide that child.”

“…!”

“I am a fake hero. I can’t be a Warrior for everyone, but I want to be a Warrior like that for my younger brother.” Loveris gave him a bright smile.

“Did Senior Kamila not explain it to you? Considering her personality, she would have shown it with her actions and not words.” That was all she had to say to him.

Rather than a conversation, it was a senior’s advice. Maybe it could have been a conversation between a teacher and a student.

Kaisen couldn’t help but think of what Sharon Alter Tas Alfo had said.

“Always get into the habit of thinking about what a true hero is.”

His stream of thought suddenly went back to Kamila’s last teachings.

Even if he were a fake, he was still a Warrior.

For that same ideal, Kamila had taken it upon herself to save everyone on that day.

He wondered if she’d been trying to teach him how a hero should act through her actions.

Kaisen tried to hide the tears leaking from his eyes beneath the twilight encompassing the mountain range.

Three days after the corpses were cleared, a mass funeral was held with a single tombstone, a paving stone of victory, marking the names of those who’d fallen.

Mirngadia of the Heavenly Castle led the funeral procession and mourned the deaths with a magnificent speech.

Loveris, who led the Knights of the Iron Cross in attending the funeral, glanced around and asked. “What about Kaisen?”

“He didn’t come,” Mern replied.

“Where did he go?”

“He must be training swordsmanship somewhere, should I go find him?”

Had he not attended because such memorials brought back painful memories, such as when the White Bone Corps was annihilated?

Loveris shook her head. “Leave him be.”

Just as Mern guessed, Kaisen was busy swinging his sword. He loved moments such as those, when he could wield his mother’s sword in his left hand and Aradamantel in his right.

In such moments, he could clear his mind, forget about the hole in his heart, and not suffer from his memories.

Instead, he was able to purely remember his mother and Kamila.

He assumed a stance he remembered and saw his mother’s stance superimposed over him.

Next, he heard Kamila pointing out the shortcomings and flaws in his stance.

“That’s not it, you idiot!”

He had to fully integrate that feeling from when he’d fought the Daemon.

“Try to hold it like this. Yeah, like that!”

He remembered how the Daemon had clearly seen the opening in his technique between his Quick-Draws and footwork.

If it weren’t for the Iron Cross hero party helping him, he would have died.

‘It’s not enough. It’s still not enough…’ Even though he’d received power from a Divine Dragon and a Sage Dragon, he was still helpless.

‘I need to figure out how to best use the dragon spirit, the power of a god, in the three minutes I’m given.’

Using those three minutes, he practiced raising his power to its limit. Since a mandatory rest period was required afterward, he could only train in such a way twice a day.

‘This is my memorial service for them…’

There was no point in bowing his head and shedding tears in the wake of so many deaths. He’d realized as a child that there was no equivalent exchange for death.

Building an altar with his swordwork, consecrating that altar with the blood of his enemies, and using their rotting corpses as incense was the best he could do.

「Is that a proper swordsman’s memorial? You’re already trying to walk such a sad path.」 Brilliant sunlight like golden wings fell on Kaisen and tickled him with warmth.

“You are…”

Setsunen of Lightning, a legacy of the Dragon Sage Rain Ludwig. Her blonde hair flowed gracefully beneath a conical hat.

He was about to kneel down to show respect, but the being spun around and said, 「Follow me for a moment.」

Setsunen clasped her hands together, and a mirage of light appeared—a dimensional barrier.

Setsunen smiled and walked through the barrier.

Hesitating for a moment, Kaisen followed her and appeared before a castle in the sky.

‘Teleportation…’

He was at the southern end of the floating castle. Below, the world seemed to endlessly spread in every direction. In front of him, a memorial stone rose with the names of all those who died in the previous battle.

On that very cenotaph, Kaisen was greeted by a dragon smelling of burnt ozone with an unnatural beauty that was not of the world.

Setsunen always remembered and mourned those who died by erecting memorial stones, and she was truly sad for each death. She prayed that their souls found rest in the light.

「It’s been a while, Kaisen. I prayed the light would always guide your path.」

Setsunen, who had been praying with her hands clasped in front of the memorial stone, turned and looked at Kaisen.

Although only cold wind blew in the sky there, why did it feel like the sun was caressing his cheeks?

「Don’t you remember me?」

Remember…? Her question surprised him. “How could I not remember?”

During the fight in Aristapo, hadn’t Setsunen saved a million refugees from the old nobles? In that battle, she saved many soldiers, including Kaisen.

「I knew you were Raminea’s blood from the first moment I saw you.」 Setsunen’s words and thoughts were transmitted directly to his mind in what she specialized in. It was a power befitting the lightning she controlled—Conscious Resonance.

Setsunen could read the thoughts of beings of an equal or lesser rank than herself and was also able to convey her own thoughts.

「Oh, If Raminea could see you so grown up like this, she would be really happy.」

“Do you think so?”

「I knew that child well. I watched her since she was a baby.」

There was a hole in his heart, a hole he couldn’t ignore but also couldn’t fill.

For some reason, the moment he heard Setsunen’s voice…

“She would have been sad to see me walk the path of the sword.”

For a moment, it felt like sunlight shone warmly into that hole.

「Yes, she probably would have, but that may not necessarily be the case.」

Everyone who met Setsunen loved her; there were also those who followed her with fervor close to worship.

It wasn’t because of her brilliant white color, but it was because she took care of everyone’s hearts with the utmost kindness and love.

With a purity like the sun, she had the power to make others smile.

「I want to lessen your despair by giving you a gift, but that is best done in person at a later time.」 Her cross-shaped eyes contained both mischievous playfulness and motherly kindness.

“In person? What do you mean?”

Setsunen gazed at Kaisen, and a confident smile appeared on her lips. 「Let us meet some day. Let’s not speak more of this.」

Setsunen’s gaze turned to the distance. The land beyond the mountain range was covered with black volcanic ash, making it impossible to distinguish between heaven and earth.

Beyond the Red Mountains, there was only volcanic ash, sand, and death. That seemed to be the fate of the world, if they failed to protect this mountain range.

「In every era of turmoil, at least one hero always appears. They are born with the destiny to sacrifice themselves to save the world. Is it a coincidence, or is it the providence of creation…?」

“…”

「600 years ago, there was Rista Alter Schirpin; 270 years ago, there was the Dragon Sage Rain Ludwig; 150 years ago, there was the Apostle of the Void, Arjen; and 20 years ago, there was Raminea.」

Setsunen turned back to Kaisen. Perhaps her gaze was like the blade of fate, causing Aradamantel, hanging on his back, to cry out.

「Do you know what I’m talking about, miracle child born out of love by Raminea and personally chosen and raised by her disciple, Kamila?」

“…I don’t know.”

「It seems that it is now your turn to walk that same path.」

There was a big difference between knowing the way and walking the way.

‘Do you know the rough road you are destined to take? The weight of life that even your mother gave up is so cruel, yet I cannot ease that burden. It breaks my heart, but…’

Setsunen couldn’t say it out loud.

“I will.” Even before the echo of those words died, Kaisen lowered his gaze and answered.

That road contained his burned hometown, the plants atop his mother’s grave, and Kamila’s last wish.

“If the road is that painful, I will have to go.”

He had nothing else he treasured as much as what he’d already lost. Instead of someone who had such treasures, it would be better for him, who had nothing, to go in their place…

「Oh…」Seeing such a young man with that determination was both sad and depressing. Setsunen read his thoughts, hugged Kaisen, and cried, her shoulders shaking.

‘Do you know… your mother liked bellflowers since she was young… The year you were born, I went there, and I held you in my arms and smiled…’

She wanted to tell him all about what kind of child his mother was when she was young and all those days gone by, but she was afraid that it would hurt his heart even more.

She was afraid it would break him.

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