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I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit [780]
🕑 Added 2025-10-28 13:49:13 +0000 UTCEver since that morning by the riverside, when Nitocris taught Shana how to draw forth her inner flame, Nitocris noticed that something about Shana seemed…different.
Exactly what had changed, she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was just a feeling, a sense that Shana had perhaps grown a little closer to her?
For instance, when Nitocris suggested taking a bath now, Shana no longer reacted with immediate resistance and blunt refusal.
And then there were those random requests for hugs.
Oh, but only hugs while Nitocris looked like herself. Absolutely not while using Hirai Yukari’s appearance.
That part was particularly confusing—but probably a good thing.
Nitocris had even brought this discovery up to Alastor, seeking his opinion. Alastor had promptly crashed like a broken computer, completely silent, as if struck dumb.
She also discussed this matter with Hirai Yukari, who eagerly went off to test whether her relationship with Shana had improved too… only to tragically discover that Shana’s attitude toward her remained cold, and possibly even a bit malicious… though Yukari lacked concrete evidence for that suspicion.
...
It was another bright, sunny morning.
After successfully helping Shana awaken the flames of Tennjōkekkai, Nitocris planned to give Shana some pointers on swordsmanship as well.
Thanks to her skill [Wind of the Desert Night A]—gained via [Imperial Privilege]—and the combat experience she had accumulated across numerous worlds, Nitocris could be considered an expert with countless weapons and martial arts techniques. Her greatest strength was still swordsmanship, which made her more than qualified to instruct Shana.
Shana’s sword style had already largely taken shape. Moreover, Flame Hazes and Crimson Denizens generally didn't treat swordsmanship as their main offensive method. What they relied on most during combat were Unrestricted Spells—magic-like powers—with swordsmanship merely a supporting tool. Being competent enough was already sufficient.
Nitocris thus merely offered improvements to Shana’s existing sword techniques, such as enhancing her method of exerting force and removing unnecessary movements.
Since it was just practice, naturally they didn’t use real swords. Both Shana and Nitocris—currently borrowing Hirai Yukari’s body—held wooden sticks. Yet when Shana faced Nitocris’s descending wooden stick, she felt a keen, sharp sensation even real blades couldn’t match. In a flash, she almost saw herself and her own wooden stick being cleanly sliced in half.
The threat of death caused Shana to erupt in crimson flames. Fortunately, Nitocris had activated a Fuzetsu as a precaution before training started, and they’d chosen the riverside as their training spot. Otherwise, the sudden appearance of massive flames would have certainly attracted attention from passersby, forcing Nitocris to once again ask the gas company to take the blame.
“Your sword style doesn't have fixed moves. It emphasizes efficiency, ruthlessness, and precision, aiming for maximum speed and force. It can flexibly adapt according to changing situations—essentially the principle of ‘formless beats form.’ Therefore, grasping timing and battlefield conditions is the very foundation of your swordsmanship, granting you extraordinary combat intuition.”
Within the Fuzetsu, Nitocris repaired the riverside damaged by Shana’s flames, then narrowed her eyes, staring meaningfully at Shana as she explained further: “Your intuition is overly sharp, which is why you were intimidated by my ‘aura.’ Your body mistakenly believed it had already been cut down, causing your power to explode under the threat of death.”
She then received a pointed stare from Shana.
“So what you're trying to say is… all this happened because you're too strong?”
“Hmm… If you want to put it like that, there's nothing wrong with your interpretation.”
Nitocris maintained a completely straight face, openly and honestly acknowledging it.
Arrogance without matching ability was called conceit—a sin. But if someone possessed genuine ability, it was confidence, a virtue worth emulating.
You couldn’t even call her arrogant. If you had her skills, you might well be even cockier—cocky beyond measure.
“Hmm… I didn’t expect you, a god, to have such deep insight into human swordsmanship,” Alastor remarked quietly.
Swordsmanship, after all, was fundamentally a skill. And skills, at their core, were originally created so the weak could stand a chance against the strong. A truly powerful being, facing someone weaker, could simply overwhelm their opponent with pure strength. Naturally strong, naturally perfect gods didn’t need techniques; they were born already the strongest.
Only frail beings such as humans required diligent sword training.
Yet, here Alastor saw an exception.
In response, Nitocris only lightly replied: “On earth, Pharaoh is omnipotent.”
...
After lifting the Fuzetsu, the two started their journey home—naturally, heading back to Hirai Yukari’s house.
On the way back, Shana suddenly glanced at Nitocris from the corner of her eye, finally voicing a question.
It seemed to be a question that had lingered in her mind for a very long time, but only now did she bring it up:
“Have you been keeping an eye on me this whole time?” Shana tilted her head slightly, eyes dark and deep, filled with probing curiosity. “Otherwise, how can you always appear at such crucial moments?”
Why indeed?
Nitocris herself didn't quite understand.
It wasn't as if she'd deliberately monitored Shana. While she certainly liked Shana very much, she wasn’t some white-haired, nightmare-inducing voyeur who enjoyed staring at people constantly. She respected personal privacy too.
When Sydonay had appeared, Nitocris had indeed been nearby, dispatching Ammit only when Shana reached her limit. But their first encounter and the one involving Agris had been completely coincidental—especially that battle against the “Mirage of a Thousand Phantasms” Agris. If Agris hadn’t created her phantom back then, Shana might very well have been doomed.
“Hmm...”
Nitocris could only attribute it to coincidence.
Or perhaps some greater cosmic force was pulling strings again.
“…Hmm.”
Shana’s brows furrowed deeply, clearly dissatisfied with this explanation.
...
By the time they returned home, Nitocris had already relinquished control back to Hirai Yukari.
Yukari’s mother had prepared watermelon slices for both Yukari and Shana. Sitting together in the courtyard, they quietly devoured the neatly cut watermelon pieces, watching sunlight spill across the yard, as unnamed birds chirped restlessly among the branches.
The two pendants lay side by side on the floor, two unseen, transcendent beings engaged in their own conversation.
“The four Crimson Lords contracted to the Four Gods of Earth… Could it be that there are corresponding gods among humanity as well?”
“Tezcatlipoca, Tlaloc, Quetzalcoatl, Chalchiuhtlicue—the four Flame Hazes who formed contracts with these gods interfered with the human world when the American continent faced invasion, stubbornly resisting... To tell the truth, putting the others aside, I truly cannot imagine someone like Tezcatlipoca actually resisting an invasion,” came Nitocris’s voice from within the golden pendant. “Among all the gods, those from South America are especially unique. They greatly enjoy presenting trials to humanity. The Tezcatlipoca I know only acknowledges warriors and yearns for a world where all humans become warriors. He constantly places humans and the world at the brink of annihilation, forcing forth the most brilliant warrior souls from the harshest environments. If humans don't fight and bleed, they simply die. Unquestionably, he's a cruel, merciless, bloodthirsty, and unpredictable evil god. Such a being wouldn’t resist invasions; he’d welcome them with delight.”
“How can this be…? Doesn’t he care about humanity and the world's survival?”
“If annihilation occurs, it means humanity lacked worthy warriors. He’d simply consider such humans and their world unworthy of continued existence. The gods of South America understand death differently from us—Tezcatlipoca doesn’t see death as tragedy or the end. To him, dying in battle or in resistance is the greatest honor, thus he'd never mourn humanity’s destruction.”
“I find this difficult to comprehend… It greatly differs from the Tezcatlipoca I knew. Could they simply be different beings sharing the same name?”
Alastor was genuinely curious about these gods of humanity similar to Nitocris. Whenever Nitocris spoke of other gods, he listened carefully, though afterward he always found himself baffled.
Holding her half-eaten watermelon, Yukari glanced back toward the pendants.
“God of Retribution-sama, would you like some watermelon too? It’s very sweet.”
Alastor clearly hadn’t expected Yukari’s sudden invitation and paused for a moment.
“Hmm… You and Shana should enjoy it. My true body isn’t present; I neither can nor need to eat. Our only ‘food’ is the Power of Existence.”
Alastor now called Shana’s name more and more naturally.
“Eh? Really?” Yukari’s face showed genuine surprise. “That’s different from Kami-sama… Kami-sama said that since she’s borrowing my body, whenever I eat something, she can taste it too… Hm? Shana, is the watermelon not good? Your expression looks strange…”
Shana halted mid-bite, fixing Yukari with a gaze sharp as a sword’s edge.
“It’s nothing. It’s just that…you and the God of Humanity seem awfully close, don’t you?”
“Of course! After all, she’s my Kami-sama!”
Yukari was so immersed in happiness—because Shana was finally no longer acting cold and was willing to speak to her—that she failed to notice Shana’s gradually darkening expression.
---
T/N: hehe jealousy
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!
