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I Don’t Want to Be a Heroic Spirit [774]
🕑 Added 2025-10-23 15:37:25 +0000 UTC“Hmm...already dead?”
Agris stood atop the water, gazing at the deep gorge sliced into the distant sea. Lingering rainbow-colored energy still kept the surrounding water from filling the void. His wrinkled face remained cold, betraying no emotion.
“So what if she’s contracted to Tenjōkekkai? In the end, just a little brat. To think this old man wasted so much time on a brat. Can’t let someone else snatch my Treasure Tool.”
Agris muttered to himself, disdainful toward the vanished Shana, clearly believing she had no chance of surviving. His thoughts were entirely consumed by the so-called treasure, one that didn’t even exist in this country.
“However, if it’s a Treasure Tool powerful enough to frustrate even ‘Thousand Changes,’ perhaps it’s already fallen into someone’s hands. Flame Haze? No, if it were a Flame Haze, they wouldn’t remain solely in this area…perhaps a Mystes? It might be wiser to let other Denizens wear them down first…”
Thus Agris stood, shamelessly lost in contemplation, planning how to find and obtain the rumored Treasure Tool, already imagining how he’d wield its power.
Just then—
Boom!
With an explosive sound, the sea erupted violently fifty meters behind Agris, scattering silver-white spray high into the air, as though lightning had been ignited underwater. Before the waves even fell, a cold flash tore through the water—a long, slender blade gleaming with a chilling edge.
Its shrill whistle as it sliced through air was louder than the waves themselves—a released silver serpent, piercing straight toward Agris’s completely unguarded back.
Yet even as the blade approached with deadly precision, Agris didn’t bother to turn around.
Clang—!
A golden sword appeared abruptly, accurately parrying and knocking away the incoming katana.
The phantom Merihim stood behind Agris, golden sword firmly in hand.
“Fool! Did you think such petty tricks would work on this old man? Did you imagine I’ve lived all these years for nothing?”
Agris’s words dripped with contempt and scorn. Only then did he glance casually toward the disturbed sea.
Splash—!
The next instant, another surge of seawater exploded upward. But this time, it wasn’t merely a weapon that emerged, but a small figure—hands gripping a large broadsword, body covered in unhealed wounds.
Neither seawater nor the previous rainbow torrent could extinguish the flame-like brilliance of Shana’s scarlet hair. Her eyes still burned fiercely with hunger for victory. She roared furiously, swinging the greatsword downward with overwhelming force.
“Haah—!”
“Useless useless useless useless! What can you hope to achieve with that wounded body? Trying to amuse this old man?!”
The expressionless phantom Merihim stepped forward, his golden sword rising to meet Shana’s descending blade.
As the two swords collided, an explosive shockwave blasted outward, violently carving out a vacuum dozens of meters wide. Waves surged into the sky, scattering like diamond shards.
Agris’s mocking laugh died abruptly in his throat as his pupils contracted sharply—
He saw clearly, the slight upward curve at the corner of Shana’s lips.
Hum—
The greatsword gripped tightly in Shana’s hands suddenly erupted with blood-red markings. A strange hum reverberated through the air.
Splurt—!
The unmistakable sound of a blade slicing through flesh.
Across the chest of Merihim’s phantom appeared a hideous wound, rainbow flames—pure Power of Existence replacing blood—spraying from the deep gash.
Greatsword-type Treasure Tool—Blutsauger. A blade able to wound opponents simply upon contact, even without cutting directly.
Originally the Treasure Tool of “Aizenji” Sorath, it had remained in Shana’s possession ever since his defeat.
Not giving her opponent even a chance to breathe, Shana stomped forcefully on the phantom Merihim’s shoulder, using him as leverage to leap upward. Midair, she reached out her right hand, grasping the previously deflected Nietono no Shana. Crossing the blades, crimson flames and blood-colored brilliance wove together, forming a merciless X-shaped slash.
“You—?!” Agris opened his mouth to roar angrily, but Shana’s slash silenced him instantly.
As the “X” slash rapidly approached, Agris grit his teeth, dense mist suddenly bursting from his body, obscuring him from sight. Evidently, he planned to use the mist as cover to escape.
“I won’t let you get away!”
Shana, clearly reading Agris’s intent, swung even more fiercely, driving flames and bloody sword-light deep into the mist. Countless liters of seawater evaporated instantly, and within the fog Shana clearly saw hibiscus-purple flames bursting forth—Power of Existence leaking from the Denizen’s body.
She felt the unmistakable sensation of cutting through something solid. Her attack had undoubtedly landed—
But Shana frowned bitterly.
Too shallow!
Far from lethal, not even truly disabling!
She couldn’t afford to give the enemy any chance to recover—this single opportunity born from his carelessness would never come again if missed!
Suddenly, as though someone had casually drawn a curtain, the already dark-red sky dimmed further.
Instinctively, Shana glanced upward. A broken lighthouse loomed overhead, suspended momentarily between sky and sea. Its remaining third still towered imposingly, ribbons wrapping tightly around its rusted exterior. Clearly, Wilhelmina had hurled it here from the shore.
The lighthouse fell with deceptive slowness, yet carried a suffocating sense of oppression.
Boom!
The instant the lighthouse crashed into the ocean, it felt as though the world itself had been struck by a gigantic hammer. A nearly perfect ring of water expanded rapidly outward, swiftly followed by towering walls of waves a hundred meters high. Wave-crests glittered under the sun like fragments of diamond, rising to an improbable peak before briefly hanging still—then violently crashing down, thunder echoing across the sky and reverberating through the bay.
Wilhelmina’s move was dramatic, but naturally it could never seriously injure Shana, who had long since darted out of the tower’s path before it hit.
Yet, although she avoided harm, Shana missed the critical opportunity to finish off Agris.
Now she stood atop a barely-floating piece of lighthouse debris, clutching sword and katana, rising and falling with the waves.
Her face twisted in displeasure—not merely from her failure to land the finishing blow, but because thick mist now surrounded her completely, obscuring all visibility. This mist wasn’t just the fog Agris produced; it also included vapor created by the lighthouse crashing into the sea.
Agris could easily use this mist to conceal himself, perfectly masking both his presence and aura. Thus, a battlefield shrouded entirely in mist provided him with an enormous advantage.
Of course, Agris choosing this particular battlefield was no mere coincidence. Cowardly by nature, he’d nearly fled upon first sighting the crimson flames. It was sheer greed for the Treasure Tool that made him stay, cautiously selecting the seashore as his fighting ground—a location where his abilities could be maximally effective. Even after confirming that this generation’s Flame-Haired Burning-Eyed Hunter was merely an inexperienced girl, he still refused to leave the ocean.
“Damn it… That sword was a Treasure Tool as well? Little brat, impressive indeed. This old man must reconsider his opinion of you!”
Agris’s exasperated voice echoed from within the thick mist, but Shana couldn’t determine where it was coming from. His position was impossible to pinpoint, as if his voice radiated from everywhere.
“Alastor…”
“It’s no good! As long as Agris remains hidden within this mist, we can’t locate him!”
Shana called out to Alastor for help, but even he had no solution.
Again… And again with this scenario. Why did enemies always hide and sneak around? Why wouldn’t they just step out and face her head-on?
Shana felt overwhelming frustration—a sense of helplessness, her strength useless, like punching cotton. She inwardly vowed that if she ever got the chance to learn an Unrestricted Spell, she’d definitely choose one capable of tracking enemies or seeing through illusions.
But learning an Unrestricted Spell was a matter for the future. If she couldn’t find a way out of this situation, she might have no future at all.
Annoyance surged, furrowing her brows. With a flick of her wrists, Shana swung both the katana and greatsword, launching arcs of fiery blades in all directions. They bloomed outward like the petals of a massive crimson lotus, desperately seeking to scatter the mist.
However, the moment the blades of flame touched the fog, it was as if swallowed whole by an invisible beast. Only faint, trembling shadows remained, struggling briefly in the mist before fading entirely.
Far from clearing the mist, her fiery strikes merely evaporated more seawater, generating even thicker fog.
Shana’s expression grew darker, her dissatisfaction evident.
“Weak, weak, weak! Stop wasting your efforts! Within this mist, this old man is invincible—you’ll never find me!”
Agris’s voice rang loudly, seemingly arrogant and confident, but deep down he was terrified. Earlier, when Shana’s attack had wounded him, his very soul had nearly fled in panic. Now, he dared not underestimate her again. Who knew if this generation’s Flame-Haired Burning-Eyed Hunter still hid another Treasure Tool or some unexpected method that could turn the tide?
He’d lived so many years, proud of his two signature Unrestricted Spells, slaughtering countless Flame Haze and Denizens. If he ended up defeated by some brat who couldn’t even fully control her own power, he’d never live it down.
“Little girl, you missed the only chance you had to kill this old man. Now, I’ll put away my earlier contempt—let me show you just how terrifying I can be when completely serious!”
Agris made up his mind; no more playing around.
He would directly summon an illusion of the strongest being in his enemy’s memory!
Thus, right before Shana’s eyes, a new form began taking shape within the mist.
As Shana recognized the face emerging from the mist, her breath caught sharply, her eyes losing all their previous brightness.
“Impossible…”
Despair welled up inside her, causing her to question her own eyes—her own reality.
She hadn’t felt despair when hovering between life and death.
Even while fighting single-handedly against illusions of Merihim and Wilhelmina, along with Agris himself, she hadn’t despaired.
Yet now, upon seeing that figure—realizing this person now stood aligned with her enemy—Shana’s heart sank heavily into an abyss.
“Shana! Run! You absolutely must not face her!”
Even Alastor, the Crimson God of Retribution, lost all composure, roaring desperately for Shana to flee immediately. His voice was urgent and panicked, as though some indescribable terror pursued them both.
Because he knew better than anyone—that opponent wasn’t something human strength could overcome. Forget 60 or 70 percent—even if Agris could recreate just one-tenth of the original’s power, it would still be enough to dominate an era, utterly unbeatable!
Absurd! That bastard Agris…his Unrestricted Spell could even conjure an illusion of this person?!
Wasn’t this joke going too far?!
Forced to accept this cruel reality, Shana immediately spun to flee—but was driven back.
The phantom Wilhelmina, the wounded phantom Merihim, and multiple figures emerging from the mist—every one of them someone Shana had seen before. Even Margery Daw, “Interpreter of Condolence,” and Sydonay, “Thousand Changes,” appeared among them.
They blocked Shana’s path, forcing her into a dead end.
“Hahaha! How about it? Terrified yet? Now do you see this old man’s true power? Like I said, that was your one and only chance to kill me! Now tremble! Quake before my unbeatable Unrestricted Spell!”
Creating this many illusions at once strained Agris greatly.
Yet he clearly saw: the one that truly terrified and plunged Shana and Alastor into despair wasn’t himself, but rather one of the illusions he’d just summoned. Although Agris couldn’t peer directly into another’s memory, his spell allowed him to know instinctively that this figure represented the strongest being his opponent had ever encountered.
Still, Agris hadn’t expected that even Tenjōkekkai himself would react with such extreme dread to this individual. Just who exactly was she?
Among the many phantoms, Agris even noticed Sydonay’s illusion. This alone surprised him greatly—but what truly stunned him was that, according to the girl’s perception, even the renowned “Thousand Changes” was inferior to this long-eared woman before him.
Seriously?
Driven by curiosity, Agris cautiously approached to inspect her closely. After all, she was an illusion created by him—absolutely loyal, totally under his control. Thus, he had no worries at all.
“Strange… Why can’t this old man detect anything special about her? And…this presence is completely unfamiliar to me. Is she a Denizen, or perhaps a Flame Haze…?”
Stroking his beard thoughtfully, Agris soon dismissed his doubts. Whatever unique qualities she possessed, he’d discover shortly once he ordered her to fight the girl.
But just then, a quiet murmur reached Agris’s ears.
“Hm... I see. So this is an illusion based on Shana’s memory of me?”
“—!!!”
The voice was faint, yet it struck Agris like thunder, causing him to retreat ten meters instantly in sheer panic.
He stared blankly at the illusion of Nitocris, his trembling pupils filled with disbelief.
“Just now…was it you who spoke?”
Facing Agris’s question, the illusion of Nitocris gave no reply, simply turning her head calmly to regard him with composed, tranquil eyes.
Those eyes—cold, yet unlike the empty eyes of ordinary illusions—radiated a restrained divine glow. Even under such a quiet gaze, Agris felt the impossible illusion that she actually sat upon a lofty throne high in the heavens, staring down at him as casually as the sun might gaze upon the grass beneath its light.
Her indifferent gaze, along with the instinctive reverence it inspired within him, filled Agris with humiliation and rage.
“This old man commands you! Die!”
Agris could control his created illusions with a mere thought—he only had to wish it, and they would vanish. Yet, overcome by fury and shame, he roared his command aloud.
Yet, contrary to his expectations, the illusion of Nitocris didn’t dissolve into mist. She remained standing calmly where she was.
“Die!”
“Die!”
“Die!”
“Why won’t you obey this old man?!” Agris shrieked, veins bulging at his temples. “Why can’t this old man control you?! You’re just an illusion created by me—WHY?!”
His furious shouting failed to elicit even the slightest shift in the illusion Nitocris’s expression.
“What a foolish question. Since this illusion is made in my image, isn’t it only natural that it would obey my own will instead?”
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T/N: holy aura
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!
