Ch.67Chapter 67: Evening (1)

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From the first day of the Subjugation Festival, there was a lot going on.

Thanks to Director Belpheus’s spatial transfer spell, we arrived in the northern region in an instant.

Under my sister’s guidance, we reached Night Haven and I thought I’d have an uneventful day.

But before I could even unpack and get accustomed to the atmosphere, a major incident befitting the Subjugation Festival occurred—an undead army attacked this place.

Just as we were about to be overwhelmed by those forces, I witnessed the overwhelming martial prowess of the greatest hero of our time.

And just as I was about to stand back and observe the aftermath of the situation that was quickly suppressed by that hero’s efforts…

My afternoon schedule in Night Haven, where I was led by Siz’s hand to tour the city streets…

“Ah, look over there. The sun is about to set.”

Siz’s voice announced that the end of our day was approaching.

As I turned my head in the direction she was pointing,

I could see the sun, which had been high in the sky when we came down from the walls to explore the city, now sinking beyond the horizon.

Night is coming.

The harsh northern night that surpasses any place in the Central Continent in its severity.

Even though Night Haven was designed to be unaffected by external elements like the cold wind,

The occasional night breeze that enters this fortress city is not something to be taken lightly.

‘And I used to swing my sword even in such dark nights.’

That was before my regression.

When I visited this place as a mercenary, I recklessly went out for my usual midnight training and despite being terrified by the indirectly felt wind, I still completed my training quota without retreating indoors.

…Thanks to that, I caught a cold and became quite the laughingstock among my fellow mercenaries.

I recovered after just a day, but that experience actually helped me adapt, becoming the catalyst for me to go out and swing my sword every night without falling ill.

I don’t have many other memories of this place from before my regression.

Ah, no.

There is one more.

One memory I can’t forget, even if “can’t forget” might not be the most appropriate expression for my situation.

I remember seeing you sitting on the wall, gazing at the night sky with sunken eyes and expression.

Your golden hair, reflecting the moonlight that occasionally peeked through the clouds, had lost its luster more than I had ever seen before.

In that moment, the inferiority complex I had been trying so hard to suppress was surprisingly quiet and subdued.

At the same time, I wondered if I had done something wrong.

That doubt eventually turned into a piercing pain over time.

And even while feeling that pain, there was a coward who couldn’t approach you or even remove the mask he wore due to his guilt for selfishly abandoning you.

But now, after turning back time…

“Beautiful…”

A stimulus from outside awakened my mind from old thoughts as I silently watched the setting sun.

It was Siz’s voice, filled with tenderness—a voice I never tire of hearing, even though I’d heard it many times today.

“It’s the same sunset, but it feels different from what I saw in the Cradle.”

Siz’s blue eyes, reflecting the reddish glow of the sunset, were twinkling with a rather dreamlike quality.

Due to the volcanic ash that had been blown away by the aftermath of Lord Nighthart’s Heaven-Splitting Sword,

The weather was incomparably clearer than usual, making the contrast of the sunset spreading across Night Haven’s cityscape feel much more dramatic…

“It’s a nice place, isn’t it?”

It was enough to make me agree with her assessment that it was quite a sight to behold.

Even for me, who had spent considerable time here as a mercenary before my regression, this was a new appreciation.

Well, back then, I didn’t have the luxury to look around.

When I was crushed by my inferiority complex, I blindly pursued strength, swinging my sword to alleviate it.

And when I finally tried to correct my missteps, I realized it was too late and could only pray from afar.

It was during that time that I would dream of that moment of my wrong choice every time I fell asleep, dreaming of making a different choice and a future without misalignment.

Not getting angry at you.

Comforting you with kind words as you hesitantly entered the infirmary, trembling, and being healed by seeing your relieved smile.

But that only happened in dreams.

How about now?

Much better.

I said what needed to be said at the right time, so I didn’t have to see my precious person suffering.

Thanks to that, we can now lean on each other’s shoulders and watch the sunset together.

I realized that the anxiety about the future—which I must navigate based only on my past experiences and acquired knowledge—

Is somewhat alleviated, at least in this moment when I feel your warmth on my shoulder.

I was convinced that if I could protect this warmth, I could do anything, become anything.

[Hmm… I hear your voice crossing with inaudible noise.]

Paphnir’s voice, which had been silent for a while, created ripples in my resolute heart.

[Fascinating. I’ve felt this since I first examined your body.]

‘What do you mean?’

I asked Paphnir while maintaining the most comfortable position for Siz, who was leaning on my shoulder, so she wouldn’t notice.

[I clearly feel you getting stronger every time you train.]

‘Isn’t that obvious? Training without results is just hardship.’

I was about to respond curtly to his statement, which he delivered as if he’d discovered something amazing, but…

[More than getting stronger through such training, I feel you becoming incomparably stronger every time you spend time with that descendant of Proxian and make those inaudible noises to me.]

I couldn’t find words to respond to Paphnir’s voice, which was stating something extraordinary, and both my mouth and my inner thoughts became a vacuum.

…I don’t understand what he’s saying.

Relying solely on my super-regenerative ability.

Getting stronger by recklessly pushing my body to its limits, honing my vessel and increasing the purity of the fighting spirit it contains…

But now, just being by Siz’s side and feeling small happiness from her warmth makes me stronger?

Come on, what nonsense is this dragon talking about?

If that were true, who wouldn’t become strong…

[The more your heart shines with the desire to protect something, the more the light dwelling in your heart will grow your vessel and the water that fills it.]

‘…!!’

A very familiar phrase came to my mind.

More precisely, a passage.

Unlike the incomplete “Radiance” sword technique of Ranos,

This is a passage from the first chapter of Pricasa’s secret book—a great breathing method that, far from being lost over a thousand years, can be called the very history of Ranos, imbued with the wisdom and experience of great ancestors.

…Wasn’t that just written to pass down the mindset one should have when honing martial arts?

[It seems that saying is still being passed down well. She’s more reliable than she looks. Kehehehe.]

Paphnir’s voice, which had been quite serious when speaking to me, now had a hint of mischief in it.

I was about to feel slightly annoyed at what felt like him evaluating someone else’s precious fiancée, but…

[Well, that woman would have been quite calm and quiet if she hadn’t gotten involved with me. Ugh…]

I couldn’t snap back at him because he was expressing some kind of fear that I, as an outsider, couldn’t quite understand.

[Just for your reference, in my experience, Agrinne was a much fiercer woman than your ancestor. Despite her appearance giving off a cold aura that could give you frostbite if you got too close, she would growl so fiercely whenever she saw me…]

What could I do when he was talking about an era from a thousand years ago that I knew nothing about?

I could only listen quietly and occasionally nod along.

But even if I didn’t experience it myself, I knew exactly who he was talking about.

How could I not?

Agrinne Proxian.

Along with my ancestor, Lord Lumen Ranos, she was a legendary hero who led the Great Holy War to human victory.

She was also the ancestor of the precious person right next to me—a great sword master worthy of being called a grandmaster.

Second to none when it came to swordsmanship, she was known as the destined rival of my ancestor, Lord Lumen Ranos, never backing down an inch in matters related to the sword, despite being personally close to him.

How could I not know the name of such a great sword master who is as respected as my ancestor among those who walk the path of the sword, even if the sword style I practice is different?

But Paphnir’s voice when mentioning such a legendary hero didn’t convey respect, but rather a strange sentiment that straddled the curious boundary between familiarity and unease.

It was easy to imagine what expression he might be making as he spoke.

It felt as if he was expressing sentiments accumulated from living in that era, facing them directly, and spending time with them.

By the way, what exactly is this dragon, Paphnir?

As I converse with him and occasionally hear his remarks, I strongly doubt whether this is truly the evil dragon that wreaked havoc a thousand years ago.

The image of Paphnir as described in the thousand-year-old traditions known to most people in the Central Continent, and the Paphnir I saw in that vision-like scene recently, were far from the friendly presence beside me now, showing rich emotions.

Even though I knew it was an illusion, the overwhelming pressure that froze the surrounding air, and the intense killing intent directed at my ancestor, vowing to drag him down like a vengeful spirit—that massive embodiment of evil reminiscent of a mountain range.

That’s the commonly known image of Paphnir.

There was nothing of the lightness that almost feels playful, like the Paphnir speaking in my head now.

And as far as I knew, his record commonly known to the public ended with his body being cut in two by my ancestor’s sword trajectory, which elicits admiration just by recalling it.

But from the way he talks, it seems he somehow survived after that.

And hearing him casually mention having close relationships with the main figures of the Great Holy War, including my ancestor,

My head was filled with unbearable curiosity.

Did he really survive after being cut in two?

And even if he survived, how is it that the venom and malice that were unimaginable in his current appearance show no trace now?

All these questions could only be speculated upon unless Paphnir himself revealed the answers.

[Your ancestor is my benefactor.]

As if reading the doubts swirling in my mind,

Paphnir’s voice resonated in my head, addressing one of my doubts.

A benefactor. What kind of relationship could they have had for a dragon, who considers itself a noble race regardless of character, to call someone a benefactor?

[And I am also that woman’s benefactor.]

…It’s becoming more and more incomprehensible.

By the way, he readily mentions the names of the progenitors of the Proxian and Bernstein families…

‘You call her your benefactor, yet you don’t properly say her name.’

He doesn’t properly call my ancestor Lord Lumen by name.

Always referring to her as “that woman” with a grumbling voice, it made me doubt whether my ancestor was truly this dragon’s benefactor.

[If you found it unpleasant, I apologize. That woman… no, Lumen and I always addressed each other that way.]

The emotion I felt in his voice as he apologized politely for my comment about his form of address and finally mentioned my ancestor’s name,

Strangely reminded me of what I felt in my heart when looking at Siz in the previous timeline, when we had no choice but to cross swords.

[If I called Lumen “that woman,” then Lumen called me this: “The lizard whose body, not tail, was cut in two but still survived.”]

….

Anyway, it’s true that Paphnir was cut in two by my ancestor’s sword.

And I also learned that he somehow survived after being cut in two—an informative conversation.

By the way, calling someone a lizard to their face?

It made me appreciate that my ancestor, whom I knew as an exemplary hero, had quite a sharp tongue.

As I leaned on Siz’s warmth, sharing my own warmth with her, and listened to Paphnir’s story in my head,

Thump, thump

Familiar footsteps were approaching from somewhere.

Judging by the light, cheerful sound of the footsteps, it seemed Behimos’s mana stone collection mission with just a few elites had been successful.

“Kids, so this is where you were.”

As I turned my head toward the voice filled with delight, I saw the owner of the voice looking at Siz and me with an expression that subtly revealed her good mood.

It was my sister.