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I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit [795]
🕑 Added 2025-11-04 14:42:47 +0000 UTCAlthough most members of Bal Masqué had already been dispatched elsewhere, and some like “Tempest Hoof” Fecor had left long ago on Bel Peol’s orders, there were still quite a few Crimson Denizens remaining inside Seireiden when Nitocris took down the Trinity.
Seireiden was Bal Masqué’s stronghold; those chosen to guard this place were no weaklings. Nitocris, whose Power of Existence had been largely drained, replenished herself considerably by harvesting their remaining forces.
The entire process could essentially be described in one line:
Nitocris calmly reached out, seized any Denizen who failed to escape, and refined them instantly.
Crimson Denizens who descended into the Human World were rarely innocent, so Nitocris felt no guilt slaughtering them. Even among Crimson Lords contracted with Flame Hazes, most hadn’t formed contracts out of remorse for past sins, but merely because they'd realized the world would collapse—and they feared death.
Not long afterward, Yukari Hirai reappeared at school.
Before the attacks by “Colorful Wave” Pheles, before the teleportation to Seireiden, the battle against the Trinity, and the destruction of Bal Masqué’s base—before all these chaotic events unfolded, Yukari Hirai had been quietly attending school.
In fact, she'd barely even warmed her seat when all hell broke loose. Had Yukari Hirai kept a diary, today’s experiences alone would have filled pages upon pages.
Part of the school building had initially been damaged by Pheles’ wind-based Unrestricted Spell, but thanks to Shana’s timely deployment of a Fuzetsu, it had already been fully restored using the Power of Existence. One couldn’t help but marvel once again at the sheer convenience of the Power of Existence and the Fuzetsu.
With all these disruptions, Yukari Hirai missed nearly all of her morning classes—but at least she could still catch the afternoon lessons.
However, before she even returned to her classroom, Yukari and Nitocris were suddenly bombarded by a furious lecture from Shana.
“Just what the hell were you thinking?!”
Shana’s voice slammed down abruptly, exploding like a lit string of firecrackers right next to one’s ear. She marched right up to Yukari, eyes blazing with fury as she glared directly at the golden pendant around Yukari’s neck.
“You went straight to the enemy’s stronghold without even saying a single word! Do you have any idea how worried I was… how worried we all were about you?!”
Shana unleashed a barrage of scolding words without pause, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her voice trembling with a storm of emotion born from anger and anxiety.
Behind Shana stood Wilhelmina, Pheles, and Johann—all silent. Wilhelmina’s expression remained cold and unreadable, while Pheles and Johann wore faint smiles, either still immersed in the joy of their reunion, or simply entertained by Shana’s outburst.
Wilhelmina, Johann, and Pheles had no intention of interrupting.
Shana’s fierce reprimand continued unabated for a full five minutes, denying Nitocris and Yukari even the slightest chance to interject or explain.
Nitocris could at least pretend to be dead inside the pendant, but poor Yukari was forced to withstand the brunt of Shana’s fury alone. Clearly, everything had been orchestrated by the Goddess herself—yet Yukari alone bore the consequences…
After those five relentless minutes, just as Shana paused briefly to catch her breath, Alastor’s deep voice resonated from within Shana’s pendant.
“Actually, there was no real need to be so worried. Indeed, the Trinity was strong, but even so—”
“Alastor, shut up for now!”
The Flame of Heaven, Alastor himself, who couldn't win arguments with Nitocris, hesitated to speak up before Wilhelmina, and now couldn’t even out-talk Shana, the daughter he had raised himself…
Was this god truly left with no dignity at all?
Nitocris finally decided to speak up as well.
“Actually, it’s not entirely true that I left without saying anything—I clearly remember asking Johann to pass on a message.”
“That’s exactly why I’m even more furious!”
Nitocris’s attempt at defense not only failed to soothe Shana’s anger but ignited it further, like oil poured directly onto roaring flames.
Instantly, veins visibly pulsed on Shana’s forehead, even her usual strand of hair standing up sharply. Her knuckles cracked audibly as she clenched her fist, seizing Yukari’s golden pendant tightly. Her words forced their way through gritted teeth:
“That man told me you could have refused the teleportation. So why didn’t you refuse? Why did you go there alone? Why couldn’t you have brought me with you?!”
Her voice shook slightly toward the end, wavering like candlelight caught in the wind.
“I’ve been trying my hardest to become stronger too, you know! So that one day I can repay everything I owe you, so that I can stand by your side and face enemies together—not always be protected from behind… I want to help you too!”
Her voice cracked, growing hoarse with emotion, every syllable hammered clearly into the air.
Nitocris fell unusually silent.
She suddenly understood why Alastor had chosen to remain completely silent earlier when faced with Shana’s heated questioning. Because at this very moment, Nitocris herself could find no words to speak; her throat felt completely blocked by something soft yet unbearably heavy.
This stubborn, sharp-tongued Flame Haze… Once she finally opened up, the sheer destructive power was simply unfair…
Only after Shana had thoroughly vented her emotions did Alastor cautiously speak again, as if treading carefully on thin ice:
“So, then… What exactly happened during your visit to Bal Masqué?”
Only now did Alastor finally have the chance to inquire about Nitocris’s experience inside Seireiden—something that Wilhelmina and the others clearly cared deeply about as well.
Even Shana, who still stood sulking off to the side, tightened her crossed arms slightly, eyes sharply darting toward the pendant. Clearly, she was just as intensely curious.
Thus, facing everyone’s expectant gazes, Nitocris succinctly outlined what she'd done at Seireiden:
Summed up simply—it was the end of Bal Masqué. The Trinity had been defeated by her hand, and many, many Crimson Denizens had been completely refined.
“Bal Masqué…destroyed?”
Wilhelmina froze in place, her eternally impassive expression faltering into rare astonishment.
That name—Bal Masqué—had been a blood-soaked stone lodged deep in the hearts of all Flame Hazes. Countless Flame Hazes had perished in battles against them; hatred between both sides had persisted for thousands of years.
For a moment, Wilhelmina found herself utterly lost, unsure of what expression or feelings to even have upon hearing such news.
Alastor, however, wasn't nearly as stunned as Wilhelmina. After all, being a god himself, he understood better than anyone the gap separating gods from everyone else. His feelings were primarily those of melancholy.
After all, Bal Masqué’s leader, the Snake of the Festival, was Alastor’s own old acquaintance.
Three thousand years ago, the God of Creation had sought to shatter the world's balance, only to be sealed away within the Eternal Pitfall, never returning to the mortal world again. Now, three millennia later, even the very organization founded by the Snake had been utterly destroyed. Even Alastor couldn’t help but sigh at the impermanence of all things.
Johann and Pheles walked over, arms lovingly linked, appearing still deeply enamored even after a century spent together.
They approached Yukari and Nitocris with clear gratitude.
Pheles had remained unaware of the dramatic changes within the Reiji Maigo, but Johann, who had long slumbered inside it, had clearly perceived everything. When Bal Masqué’s bizarre Unrestricted Spell forcibly intruded, the internal structure of the Reiji Maigo had violently shaken and reassembled.
He'd been trapped like an observer within a glass box—unable to warn Pheles, let alone stop her.
Johann couldn't decipher the true purpose of that strange Unrestricted Spell, nor could he imagine what terrifying outcome awaited if Pheles had unknowingly touched the altered Reiji Maigo.
He felt sincerely fortunate that when Pheles finally tracked it down, the Reiji Maigo was in Nitocris's hands—not within some ordinary Mystes. After all, even weakened by prolonged depletion of Power of Existence, Pheles still wasn’t someone a Mystes could resist, unless that Mystes was Tenmoku Ikko, the unprecedentedly fierce wielder of Nietono no Shana.
Aside from that, they owed Nitocris a debt of gratitude for nurturing Johann’s soul. Only because of Nitocris’s divine power had Johann awakened so quickly. After being attacked by “Destructive Blade” Sabrac, Johann had been teetering between life and death, forcing Pheles to seal him within the Reiji Maigo.
“You likely need the Reiji Maigo badly to replenish your existence, but unfortunately, I cannot hand it over to you.”
Before Johann’s awakening, such words would never have reached Pheles. Back then, she would've stubbornly ignored all warnings, clinging desperately to even the faintest glimmer of hope.
But now, things were different.
Johann stood warmly at her side, his fingers tightly interlocked with hers. Moreover, Nitocris’s kindness toward them was beyond measure. This deep debt of gratitude prevented Pheles from acting recklessly as before. With Johann here, with this bond in place, Pheles had become far more patient.
“Is it because of that Unrestricted Spell within the Reiji Maigo?” Johann asked gently.
“Yes,” Nitocris’s voice resonated from the golden pendant. “Those present here—the Promised Pair, who are closely tied to the Reiji Maigo, as well as Shana, Alastor, and Wilhelmina, each connected in various ways to the Snake of the Festival—all have the right to know the truth.”
“Wait—!” Alastor suddenly interrupted, voice straining in shock. “Did you just say… the Snake of the Festival?!”
Of course, the strongest reaction came from the Flame of Heaven himself.
The crimson jewel pendant hanging around Shana’s neck instantly burst forth with searing, incandescent brilliance, like a piece of red-hot coal suddenly cast into a furnace.
Alastor’s normally composed voice now carried palpable astonishment and dread.
“Why mention the Snake of the Festival here? He was banished to the gap between worlds in ancient times! Even for a god, escaping from such a place is utterly impossible…”
“That’s precisely why they sought the power of the Reiji Maigo,” Nitocris calmly explained. “Ever since his exile, the Snake of the Festival and his Trinity have been preparing for his return. Central to their plan is the Unrestricted Spell left behind by the Snake—the Psalm of Grand Order. The Supreme Priestess Hecate and Bel Peol, Arbiter of Reverse Reasoning, were vital components. The spell that Sabrac sealed into the Reiji Maigo was precisely part of this Psalm.”
The Crimson God who governed the Authority of Creation and Certainty—the Snake of the Festival.
Upon hearing this name, everyone present felt an oppressive heaviness sweep over them, unconsciously holding their breath.
Such was the weight this name carried.
Especially for Johann and Pheles—as beings originating from the Crimson Realm, they understood far more vividly than humans like Shana what the name “Snake of the Festival” truly meant.
Even Johann and Pheles never imagined that Bal Masqué’s obsession with obtaining the Reiji Maigo was to facilitate the return of the Snake of the Festival himself!
With unprecedented gravity, Alastor slowly spoke again, “No wonder… No wonder Bal Masqué went to such lengths to seize the Reiji Maigo. If it was for their master’s return, it all finally makes sense.”
“That’s precisely why I cannot give you the Reiji Maigo,” Nitocris reiterated to Johann and Pheles. “Though the Trinity no longer poses a threat, the Snake of the Festival’s Unrestricted Spell—the Psalm of Grand Order—still exists within it. If I handed it over to you, it would be dangerous… or rather, it would be dangerous anywhere but in my hands.”
Johann and Pheles’s gazes met softly in the air, intertwining silently like invisible currents. No words were necessary—within an instant too brief to measure, they read clearly from each other’s eyes the identical feelings of shock and quiet resignation.
In the end, they helplessly chose to relinquish the Reiji Maigo—a Treasure Tool of profound significance that had once borne witness to their vows.
They knew all too clearly that without its endless fountain of Power of Existence, remaining faithful to their vow never to devour humans might inevitably lead them down a slow, painful path toward extinction.
Yet they had no second option.
The moment the name “Snake of the Festival” resurfaced, this treasure ceased to be something they were qualified to hold. Dragged into such karmic tides, this delicate artifact was no longer a beacon of hope—it had become a curse heralding disaster.
Still, deep in their hearts, neither bore even the slightest resentment.
After all, they had finally reunited. They could feel each other's genuine warmth at their fingertips and see each other vividly in their eyes. Compared to that miracle regained, everything else felt trivial.
Next to this precious second chance, even a Treasure Tool—even threats to their future survival—became insignificant. As long as their hands stayed clasped together, even if their path led to oblivion, it would still be a fate they could face without regret.
Watching the two of them, Shana couldn’t help but reveal a faint hint of envy in her eyes.
What was she envying?
She envied Johann—because he, as a human, could stand proudly at the side of Pheles, a Crimson Lord.
If she kept striving forward, was there perhaps a chance… that one day, she too could stand beside Nitocris just like this?
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This is a fan translation of 我才不要当英灵 by 死神的挽歌. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
