Invincible
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#104
🕑 Added 2024-09-01 15:57:16 +0000 UTCThe Last Day (2)
The eastern territory of the Three-Headed Wolf was bordered by a river that flowed in a straight line, marking the boundary with other monster territories. The journey there was smooth, thanks to the fairies of the Purple Forest who provided us with some conveniences.
"I think I just saw a fairy waving at us. Did I imagine it?" Belman said as he adjusted his glasses, squinting his eyes as if trying to see more clearly.
"You must have seen wrong. It was probably just a smudge on your glasses," I replied, pretending not to know the truth. If he realized that the fairies were showing me favor, he would likely start questioning me to figure out the secret behind it. Belman was a man with a strong academic fervor, after all.
"More importantly, remember that the treasure we're looking for is mine. If you accept that, I'll write off the cost of the herbs I used to treat the professors."
"Ahem, I'm not that greedy. I've already scored enough points to be in the top ranks at Buerger Hall."
"Well, that's good to hear, though I'm not sure who you should thank for that," I said, giving him a knowing look. Belman sighed, running his hand down his face.
"…Yes, it's thanks to you."
At least he knows the truth. Good, that means I don’t have to worry about him suddenly turning into a bandit.
"Follow me." I led him upstream along the river. As we walked, Belman’s curiosity got the better of him.
"But why did you bring up the Rune language earlier?" he asked.
"There’s something I want you to translate."
Belman, puzzled, asked in a tone that suggested he didn’t understand.
"Why do you need my help with that? If it's translation, you can do it yourself. Why would you need my assistance?"
It's understandable that he would be confused. After all, I had solved the Rune language problem during the written exam. But he wouldn't know that I had used brute-force calculations to solve it.
I answered honestly.
"Because I don’t actually know Rune."
Belman suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"You solved it... without knowing Rune?"
"As I’ve told you before, don’t try to fit everything into your narrow frame of understanding. The world is full of unknown knowledge."
Repeating the same line seemed to satisfy him, as he nodded in agreement. That’s one of his redeeming qualities—he’s willing to accept things without too much fuss.
He’s becoming a bit less annoying.
"I’m getting hungry. Let’s finish this quickly and catch some fish to grill."
Seeming to feel the hunger himself, Belman focused on walking, and we soon reached the end of the river without further conversation.
The sound of rushing water greeted us as a majestic waterfall showed off the grandeur of nature. Between the cliff and the waterfall was a narrow path—a stone bridge that was clearly man-made.
Belman’s curiosity was piqued.
"…This wasn’t naturally formed."
"They say people used to live in this demonic realm long ago. It’s not surprising to find something like this here."
"But how did you know—"
"I’m hungry. Let’s go."
I cut him off quickly and stepped onto the stone bridge. We squeezed through the inside of the waterfall, careful not to slip on the wet stones. As we walked, Belman pulled out his staff.
"It’s hard to walk here. Wait a moment." With a wave of his staff, a green barrier appeared, forming a roof that shielded us from the water. We no longer had to cling uncomfortably to the wall.
I chuckled and offered some praise.
"Thanks, this makes it much easier."
"Well, I am confident in my barrier magic."
With our pace quickened, we soon arrived at the entrance of a cave beyond the waterfall. As we entered, our footsteps echoed.
Tap, tap, tap.
I pulled out my staff to light up the interior. My mana had increased recently, making the light incredibly bright. Next to me, Belman pointed at the small glowing orb I had conjured with his own staff.
"I’ll light up the inside, Hersel."
Ah, so that was his doing. I put my staff away and began examining the surroundings. In a corner, I noticed a broken jar and a table carved from stone. On the table were remnants of what looked like black powder, likely the decayed remains of paper. Despite the passage of time, the artificial traces were still evident.
The center of the room was cleared, seemingly designed for gathering in worship. The structure suggested this place had once been a shrine. A stone tablet at the far end of the wall supported this theory.
Belman observed the jar and commented.
"It’s too old. I can’t tell what construction method was used."
"It’s not worth much. Don’t worry about it."
"But it’s still a relic, isn’t it? It must have some value."
"The Empire’s museums are filled with jars in much better condition than this. Unless it’s imbued with some mystical power, everything here is ordinary."
"What I’m interested in is that stone tablet. Go ahead and start translating."
I stopped in front of the tablet. Belman touched his chin and pondered for a moment.
"Hmm… Some of the characters are smudged, but I can infer the meaning from the context."
He stared intently at the tablet and continued.
"A child bearing life shall pass through this place. One who will strip away falsehoods and reveal the truth. The faith fronted by the vile god will be cast aside..."
Belman’s eyes suddenly widened, and his voice began to tremble.
"…And the slanderous contempt imposed by false accusations will be undone."
His reaction caught my attention, but my mind was focused on one thing. Could it be that the reason the fairies of the Purple Forest were protecting the life they had conceived was related to this? It might be a clue connected to the main scenario of Asares.
I was about to carefully pick up the stone tablet when—
Grab.
Belman suddenly seized my wrist.
"Wait."
"…If you’re thinking of stealing it, you’d better be prepared to face the consequences."
"No, that’s not it. Look at this."
Belman pointed to a pattern on the tablet with a serious expression.
"This writing that we thought was smudged… It’s not Rune, but a symbol. It’s the emblem of a religion rooted in the Empire!"
A chill ran down my spine as I listened to his now-loud voice. I immediately understood the implications of what Belman was trying to convey.
"…Let’s just pretend we never translated this. Hersel, you also shouldn’t mention this to anyone. The Solaria Order has influence all over the Empire."
Blasphemy.
That was what was engraved on the relic in the form of a prophecy. If it became known that we, as students, had deciphered it, we would undoubtedly face a lot of trouble. There was a reason why the Empire hadn’t revealed the contents of the tablet when it was donated. Even the Emperor would want to avoid conflict with a religious order that half of his subjects belonged to.
"Fine, let’s say you never came here in the first place."
"The professors might have been watching us."
"Don’t worry. The two professors are still bedridden at Schlaphe Hall, and Professor Gomon is off in the forest gathering food."
"Then we should separate and walk back on our own."
After exchanging a few brief words, I carefully packed up the stone tablet, wrapping it tightly in cloth to ensure it wasn’t visible.
***
Professor Gomon greeted us with a broad smile. He took the stone tablet from me, his voice filled with excitement as he exclaimed.
"You really found this here?"
"I stumbled upon it while taking a leisurely walk."
"Wow, luck is a skill too, kid. You’ve got the goods. Once you graduate, you’ll be fast-tracked to promotion!"
Although he kept praising me, saying things like "this kid’s got talent," I now understood. He was acting surprised to hide his unease after reading the tablet’s contents. But since the tablet was now out of my hands, I didn’t need to worry about it anymore.
"So, did you arrange for enough carriages?"
"Ah, yes. I made sure to contact the academy."
"Does Frost Heart even have that many carriages?"
"They’ll figure something out. Besides, they’re still kids. You can fit more of them into a single carriage, so don’t worry too much."
It seemed like everything was wrapping up nicely. Tomorrow’s return journey should go smoothly. Now, it was time to discuss my reward.
"So, Professor, how are you going to surprise me?"
"Huh? Surprise you?"
"I’m talking about Berme. You promised me a reward if I took care of it by myself."
Professor Gomon awkwardly cleared his throat, narrowing his eyes slightly before reluctantly nodding.
"Yes, yes. Alright, tell me what you want. I’ll make sure Professor Rockefeller hears about it."
My request came out immediately.
"Graduation."
Professor Gomon broke out in a cold sweat.
"…Th-that’s a bit much, don’t you think?"
"Dropping out."
"Kid, that’s not an option either."
"Then expulsion."
"Ugh… Just ask for money, will you?!"
Maybe I should stop teasing him. I pulled out the old sword and showed it to Professor Gomon.
Schwing—
Although it had always been slightly rusted, the blade had deteriorated even more after the battle with Berme. Even the enchantment on the gloves—"significantly increases the durability of the item in hand"—which was a gift from the mistress, had proven useless against the relentless force of the Mana Blade and Berme’s blood. A normal sword couldn’t withstand such power.
"I’ll accept a decent weapon as my reward."
Professor Gomon sighed in relief.
"Phew. I thought you were planning to run away. You almost gave me a heart attack."
Run away, huh? That might be a good option if they try to pull any more stunts.
"A decent weapon sounds fine. I’ll make sure Professor Rockefeller knows. You can expect something good."
Professor Gomon seemed confident. If he was so sure, maybe I’d really get a decent sword. That would be a pleasant surprise.
- I'm moved, Hersel.
'Why? Were you really hoping for a good weapon?'
- The better the sword, the more enjoyable it is to wield. I’m finally getting rid of this scrap metal for something worthwhile.
Isn’t it odd that Donatan, being a weapon himself, would be so interested in having another weapon? It’s almost like a person acquiring a slave. As these thoughts ran through my mind, I heard voices chattering in the distance.
"I’m serious! Just with swordsmanship alone, Berme was so scared he couldn’t even enter. But of course, he charged in, using all his power to strike in the blink of an eye. And Hersel took it head-on. But amazingly, it was Berme’s arm that broke."
I turned to see Ricks and his followers proudly recounting the story of how I killed Berme.
"And that’s when Hersel swung his sword. It was dark, so I couldn’t see clearly, but it might have even split the clouds."
Splitting clouds, huh? I’m starting to fear you guys. You might actually drive me crazy.
***
On the last evening of the test, we planned to return to the academy by carriage at dawn the next day. Perhaps because some of us were reluctant to leave just yet, Professor Gomon had gathered the students and started piling up firewood. Once the stack was completed, he called out loudly towards Schlaphe Hall.
"Alright, everyone gather around!"
The students all started assembling with curious expressions, wondering what was going on.
"This is a Pathfinder tradition. I’m making it sound fancy, but really, it’s just a simple campfire. We light a fire at the spot we occupied and have some fun."
As Professor Gomon lit the fire, the crackling sound of burning wood filled the air, bringing a warm and comforting atmosphere that somehow made everyone feel a sense of camaraderie.
Maybe it was the mood, but the students began to take out the food they had gathered from the demonic realm one by one. Professor Gomon chuckled heartily.
"Haha, this is amazing! I hadn’t even told them that more supplies would arrive when the carriages get here."
His comment only made the students’ efforts more enthusiastic. Feeling a bit generous, I decided to contribute some of the food I had taken from Belman. As I was about to share some jerky, a guy from the Lethe group hesitated and spoke.
"Hersel…"
He was one of the guys who had drawn his sword when Luon’s group tried to attack us. Although most of them had just been standing around, a few had actually joined in. I gave him a small smile.
"Looks like you’ve been influenced by this place."
"…I just realized that they were wrong."
"Really? Weren’t you the one beating up other students before? What changed your mind?"
The guy looked embarrassed as he answered.
"It’s an excuse, but… If I had to say, I was lured in by the promise that joining Lethe would help my career. So, even though I didn’t like it, I forced myself to do things I didn’t want to."
"That’s definitely an excuse. The people who suffered because of you wouldn’t care if it was forced. It was still your choice."
After offering some advice, I noticed him narrow his eyes.
"And you, Hersel…"
"What?"
"Ah, nothing."
This guy. He probably wanted to ask if I had the right to judge him, but decided against it.
"Hand it over."
I snatched the jerky he was about to offer and took a bite. After that, Professor Gomon started a singing session. He had a deep voice, likely due to his large frame, and he sang quite well. The students began clapping along in time with his rhythm, some even joining in the singing.
The atmosphere heated up, and Professor Gomon decided it was time for a talent show, offering a bottle of liquor as a prize. Since alcohol was rare at the academy, especially the male students got fired up, throwing themselves into ridiculous dances or telling funny stories with all their might. Even in the midst of all this, Silla kept glaring at Limberton, and Leana kept glancing over at me.
Actually, not just Leana, but everyone seemed to be sneaking glances at me. Sensing something bad was about to happen, I quickly turned my back, but Ricks ended up dragging me into singing anyway. Feeling awkward, I tried to use my shaping magic to create an acoustic guitar, but it turned into something that looked more like a broom. Ricks, unable to stand it, made a lute for me, and I had no choice but to use the unfamiliar instrument.
Thankfully, after a few strums to match the chords, I started getting the hang of it. I chose a common campfire song from my college days. It seemed like a new kind of music to them, as their initially puzzled faces soon relaxed, and they began nodding their heads to the rhythm. Even those who had been on guard loosened up a bit as they listened to the song.
The night sky of the Purple Forest was soon filled with music, and the moon began to wane.
…Well, it wasn’t such a bad night.
***
Perched on the highest tree of the highlands, Luon gazed down at the lowlands where smoke was rising. Felia flew to his shoulder and spoke with excitement.
"Look at them singing. They’re pretty good."
"He’s always been good at drinking and dancing."
The corners of Luon’s mouth lifted slightly. Felia, noticing this, found it interesting.
"This is fascinating."
"Hmm?"
"I’ve always thought you were just pretending to be human in front of others. But it seems you’re actually showing emotion, at least towards Hersel."
"Me?"
Luon asked, and Felia confidently began explaining.
"You’re more insensitive than most people. You can’t empathize with others’ pain and emotions. You only perceive them conceptually, right?"
Felia had learned much through conversations with Luon. For this man, emotions were merely understood, devoid of empathy. Frowning meant pain. Tears meant sadness. But this was all just textbook knowledge to him, similar to a description in a book.
"You don’t understand the ache of a wounded heart or the fluttering of excitement. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t, because your brain is wired wrong."
Felia had always thought of Luon this way.
"But that’s not entirely true. These days, we call it hormones, I think? There are all sorts of them, but they’re neurotransmitters that affect emotions. It’s a problem when they’re overproduced, but it’s the same when they’re as low as yours."
"You’ve picked up modern knowledge despite being an old soul."
"Well, I used to read up on modern medicine whenever I was bored in the library. Anyway."
Felia hummed a tune as she looked into Luon’s eyes.
"Judging by how you react to that Hersel guy, it seems you did feel jealousy. Remember that day when he came with his comrades to save the short guy? Didn’t you feel a surge of anger?"
Luon’s pupils slightly dilated—a sign that the part of his brain responsible for hormone production wasn’t completely dead. Felia smirked and continued.
"Jealousy leads to anger, you know. That’s why you went down to the lowlands and whispered your fury into his ear. Am I right?"
Luon slowly closed and reopened his eyes without saying a word. Felia, trying to help him understand, simplified her explanation.
"You just didn’t recognize it. It probably felt unfamiliar to you, so you couldn’t identify it as jealousy or even anger."
Finally, Luon spoke.
"For some reason, I find this conversation uncomfortable."
"It’s not a thought. You’re feeling it."
Luon took out a cigarette from his pocket. He lit the end, and as he inhaled, the embers flared with a crackle.
"Phew."
Exhaling the smoke, Luon said,
"I need to focus on subduing Arkandric. If I can’t handle that inspiration, I won’t be able to move on to the next stage."
"Don’t worry. I’ve already figured out where the remaining materials are hidden."
As he listened to Felia’s soft laughter, Luon puffed out more smoke. Then he alternated his gaze between the lowlands and the smoke rising in front of him.
"The campfire smoke is smaller," he muttered. His hand snuffed out the cigarette butt on the damp tree trunk with a sizzle.
***
Ch-ch-ch.
The upperclassmen of Schlaphe Hall were bustling about.
"The kids will be here soon. Let’s hurry up."
Under Athera’s direction, the once-boring lobby was being filled with tables and food. They were preparing for a reception to welcome back the first-year students from their field training in the demonic realm. This tradition at Frost Heart began after the battle with the Roaming Band.
Of course, all the expenses were covered by the dormitory’s shared funds.
"If I see anyone grinning while stuffing their faces, I’ll kill them myself. Got it? Eat up with a few tears in your eyes and offer some comforting words in a pitiful voice."
Many of them would be traumatized. Killing a child isn’t a pleasant experience, and seeing your comrades die would leave a deep scar. Some might even try to commit suicide. That’s why the upperclassmen needed to show extra care at times like this.
Just as everything was getting ready,
Creak—
The old, worn-out front door of Schlaphe Hall swung open. A long leg stepped through, followed by a voice that spread through the lobby.
"Did you all behave while I was gone?"
