SS #39 Bildwein’s Heroic Saga Begins

The whole affair started with something rather trivial.

It all began with a blank notebook found during a battle.

A blank notebook, with only a few scribbles on the first page.

In a mansion where death filled every corner, the only reason he bothered to pick up the notebook was because its cover was truly magnificent.

The green cover, adorned with a splendid gold-leaf pattern, looked incredibly luxurious at a glance.

What a shame.

The notebook was found in a study filled with books.

It was no exaggeration to call it a small library, its collection befitting the study of Viscount Baranga, a renowned bibliophile.

Kamael didn’t know much about Viscount Baranga.

He had only heard in passing that the man loved books and had even authored a few himself.

“Kamael.”

At the weary call, Kamael turned, the notebook still in his hand.

Landius stood there, his shoulders slumped, a bitter expression on his face.

“Survivors… I guess there really are none.”

From the moment they crossed the border until now, the two of them had not found a single survivor.

Kamael narrowed his brow.

Viscount Baranga’s domain was a border region in the small kingdom of Paragon, closer to the frontier than to the royal capital.

If there were no survivors even in a remote area like this, what in the world was the situation in the capital?

After a moment of silence, Kamael glanced at the setting sun outside the window and said, “For now, let’s prepare to rest somewhere around here for the night.”

The night on a battlefield was always dangerous.

Especially in a place teeming with undead like zombies and ghouls.

Moreover, in a situation like this, it wouldn’t be strange for a high-ranking undead, like a vampire, to appear at any moment.

The first priority was to find a safe place to hide and rest.

“…I have a place in mind. Let’s move.”

“Alright.”

Normally, he would have put down whatever he was holding and followed Landius, but whether by chance or by fate, Kamael followed Landius with the notebook still in his hand.

By the time he felt the awkwardness of it, it seemed odd to just leave the notebook on the floor, so he tucked it into his coat.

And a few hours later…

While standing watch in an abandoned house on the outskirts of the village, Kamael took the notebook out from his coat.

It was a fine notebook, even in the dark.

And perhaps because of that, Kamael felt a strange urge to write something.

As luck would have it, the abandoned house they had chosen for the night had a usable, albeit old, quill pen and ink.

They seemed to be items the owner of the house used for keeping ledgers.

Kamael held the ink-dipped pen, pondered for a moment, and then began to write.

November 3rd.
Entered Viscount Baranga’s territory with Landius.
Like the border region, it was filled with undead.
No survivors were found.
After investigating during the day, we found a place to hide for the night.
What in the world has happened to the kingdom—no, to the royal capital?

Kamael, who had been dispassionately listing facts like a knight’s report, flinched at the last sentence he had written on impulse, but only for a moment.

Instead of striking a line through the sentence, he continued on to the next.

Circumstantially, the situation deeper within the kingdom was likely more severe than here.
But Landius seems intent on continuing toward the capital.
I intend to do the same.
For I am a knight of Paragon, just as Landius is.

Kamael, who had been writing without pause, stopped again for a moment.

He wondered if he was trying to sound too cool.

But he soon shook his head.

It wasn’t an affectation; it was his honest feeling.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he was writing this for anyone else to see.

Nodding to himself again, Kamael silently lifted his pen.

Perhaps because he had let out the thoughts he had been holding in his heart, he found that he enjoyed writing.

November 5th.
We encountered Lena Einsberg.
The disciple of Bardo Einsberg, who was a palace mage.

Kamael wrote the short sentence and paused.

The scene he had witnessed just a few hours ago came to mind, and his heart ached anew.

Bardo Einsberg was no mere palace mage.

He was a respectable figure, a teacher to the order of knights, and… a truly good person.

Kamael closed his eyes for a moment and recalled old memories.

The image of Bardo with his kind smile, and beside him, a small girl—Lena—with a shy smile of her own.

Gritting his teeth, Kamael picked up the pen again but could not easily continue the sentence.

November 11th.
We encountered Belkian-nim.
And we finally learned, at least in rough terms, what had happened to the Paragon Kingdom and the current state of the royal capital.

Belkian-nim said:
A demon has descended upon the royal capital.
It is surely a being of the archdemon class or higher, one of the powerful, titled demons.
Perhaps even a Demon Prince has descended.
The capital must have already become a land of death.
There are likely no survivors left.

It was a horrifying story.

And after hearing all of this from Belkian-nim, Landius asked in a calm tone.

“Belkian-nim, did you have a reason for heading toward the capital?”

Belkian-nim was not escaping from the capital.

On the contrary, he had encountered us while on his way there.

So Landius’s question was a reasonable one.

Landius was not suspecting Belkian-nim of being the culprit behind this disaster.

I, too, do not think of Belkian-nim in such a way.

There was only one reason for Landius’s question.

The Paragon Kingdom was already finished.

A demon had descended upon the capital, and there were no survivors to be found.

So why was Belkian-nim heading toward the capital?

Unless he was like us, pressing forward with a sliver of hope, not yet grasping the full situation.

“Because there is one possibility, a possibility I do not even wish to imagine.”

Belkian-nim removed his plague doctor’s mask, which resembled a bird’s head, and continued speaking with a weary face.

“A Gate of Hell may be opening in the capital. No, perhaps it has already opened. And if a Gate of Hell has truly opened… it won’t just be the Paragon Kingdom. The Sailun Kingdom, and furthermore, the entire continent, including the Argon Empire… could all become just like Paragon.”

So we must confirm it.

Whether a Gate of Hell is truly opening.

What the demon that descended upon the capital is doing.

After hearing everything Belkian-nim had to say, Landius looked back at Lena and me, and we both nodded.

“We will go with you.”

Landius spoke on our behalf, and Belkian-nim gave a heavy nod.

November 19th.
Upon finally arriving at the capital, we understood clearly.
A Demon Prince—an archdemon among archdemons, whose power was second only to the Great Lords of Hell—had descended upon the capital.
And, just as Belkian-nim had feared, the fiend was opening a Gate of Hell.

There was little time.

Belkian-nim judged that there were less than ten days left until the Gate of Hell opened completely.

It was far too little time.

To return to the Sailun Kingdom, report the emergency, and lead Sailun’s forces back to the capital would surely take at least a month—no, more than a fortnight.

And by then, demons would already be pouring out of the wide-open Gate of Hell.

Therefore, there was only one way.

We, who are here now, will close the Gate of Hell.

We will stop the gate from opening, even if it costs us our lives.

It was a reckless plan.

It was akin to throwing our lives away.

But it was something that had to be done.

“Don’t you even think about leaving me behind.”

Lena spoke first, as if to cut him off, and Landius narrowed his eyes.

Fran smiled, and Belkian-nim remained quietly silent.

And we all looked at Landius.

At our gazes, my friend, my hero since childhood, nodded his head.

“Let’s go to the capital. No, let us go to the capital.”

Was he conscious of Belkian-nim’s presence at the last second?

At the sight of Landius hastily switching to formal speech, Lena stifled a laugh, Fran cackled, and even Belkian-nim let out a small chuckle from within his plague doctor’s mask.

And I, too, smiled.

I resolved to stand with Landius, who was now clearing his throat, his face flushed red, and to follow him.

November 21st.
We are still alive.

November 23rd.
We have entered the deeper levels.
The moment of the decisive battle is not far off.

November 28th.
The Demon Prince, having recovered its full power, has left the depths and taken its place upon the throne in the royal capital.
Behind it was the Gate of Hell, just short of its complete form. We, who had escaped the depths and hidden ourselves near the capital, knew it instinctively.
There is no more time.
Tomorrow will be the day of the decisive battle.

Everyone was exhausted from the fierce, continuous fighting without proper rest, and a fully prepared state was something we couldn’t even dream of, but we all knew.

Among those gathered here, there might be some who felt fear, but there were none who had any intention of backing down.

In the jet-black night sky, a single small star was twinkling.

Althea.

The star of hope, which never loses its light, no matter how deep the darkness or how long the night.

Tomorrow was the day of the final battle.

The chances of victory were slim, and the enemy was far too powerful.

But not a single one of us spoke of despair.

Instead, we spoke of hope, of the things we wanted to do after we won.

“I plan to continue my research.”

“I’m going to travel. Travel the world.”

Belkian-nim spoke, and Fran followed.

And then Lena said, “I want to live an ordinary life.”

A life of growing old normally, meeting someone she loves, having children, and living with that person for the rest of her life.

At Lena’s words, Fran grinned.

Even Belkian-nim let out a small smile.

They weren’t mocking Lena’s humble dream.

It was because as Lena spoke—specifically, when she mentioned wanting to meet someone she loves and have children—she kept stealing glances at Landius.

And because her fair, pretty cheeks had turned redder than what could be explained by the campfire’s glow.

But I knew.

I knew what kind of guy Landius was.

“Lena is pretty and kind. I’m sure you’ll be able to meet a good person.”

Yes, he was that kind of guy.

Lena’s face fell into open dejection, and Fran berated Landius, asking how he could say such a thing.

Even Belkian-nim shook his head.

But I didn’t blame my friend.

I felt sorry for Lena, but after forcibly suppressing the laugh that threatened to escape, I spoke in a slightly teasing tone—but with just enough emotion for only Landius to notice.

“That’s right. Lena is kind and pretty. I’m sure she’ll meet someone great.”

For a moment, I thought Lena shot a resentful glare in my direction—no, she definitely did—but I maintained my composure, pretending not to notice.

Even though Lena was incredibly cute and lovely.

Even though she was like a little sister to me.

After trying to revise the sentence a few times, Kamael eventually shook his head and just started writing the next one.

Landius said he would track down Archbishop Manuela.

Manuela.

The source of this entire catastrophe.

The demon’s tool who tempted the queen into summoning the Demon Prince.

The one who turned the entire Paragon Kingdom into a hell had already fled.

That was why Landius—no, all of us—knew.

That even if we blocked the Gate of Hell and defeated the Demon Prince, this incident could not end as long as Manuela was alive.

So I plan to join the Holy Cross Guardians.

Tracking Manuela would be no easy task.

It was not something that could be done with personal strength alone.

So I will borrow the power of an organization.

I will enter the Holy Cross Guardians, obtain the position of commander, and support Landius with everything I have to find Manuela.

To use an analogy, Landius would become the master of the world of light, and I, the master of the world of darkness—

The night grew deep.

We all went to sleep.

December 7th of the same year.
A monastery in the border region of the Sailun Kingdom.

Lying in a hospital bed, Kamael quietly flipped through the notebook that had, at some point, become a diary. He thought to himself with a small smile that only Landius would have recognized.

It’s a bit of a waste.

I think I wrote it quite well.

It’s a vivid story from the scene.

That no one will ever get to see this.

“Ahem, ahem.”

Embarrassed by his own thought—an embarrassment only Landius would have been able to detect—Kamael flipped through the notebook again.

Since I’ve already written this much… should I add a bit more description?

The diary had been written in the Paragon Kingdom.

In other words, on a battlefield where an enemy could strike at any time.

Because of that, he’d had no time to deliberate over his sentences, nor the leisure to add detailed records or descriptions.

Since he was going to be confined to a hospital bed for a while, maybe this was a good opportunity to polish the writing a bit.

And add more description.

It wasn’t as if he had anything else to do right now.

Kamael glanced over at Landius, who was sleeping soundly, sprawled out on his bed like a starfish, and made up his mind.

He carefully sat up and gripped his pen.

December 29th.

Having left the monastery, Kamael gazed down at the green-covered diary and the red-covered ‘book’ and fell into thought.

How on earth did things end up like this?

At first, he had just intended to polish the sentences a bit.

But as he wrote, it had somehow turned into a heroic novel, and he’d only changed the names half-jokingly because he was embarrassed to see familiar names—especially his own—appearing over and over.

How did this become a whole book?

No, more importantly, why did the story, which was supposed to be about the events in the Paragon capital, change to a story about his and Landius’s days as squires?

“Hmm…”

Well, at least it became a good pastime.

Kamael forced himself to think that way.

February 5th of the next year.

The ‘Five Heroes of Paragon’ were still gathered in the Sailun Kingdom.

They needed not only to recover from their injuries but also to report in detail what had happened in the Paragon Kingdom.

Kamael hid the green notebook—the diary—that he had almost submitted on impulse deep inside his luggage, and holding a purple-covered book, he headed for the post office run by the Sailun royal family.

At first, he had just planned to write a diary.

Then he had just added a little description.

He had only changed the names because he got embarrassed while writing.

When he came to his senses, a heroic novel was complete, and as he read it, he once again felt it was a waste.

So, Kamael headed for the post office.

He placed the purple-covered book in an envelope and sealed it well. Then, exuding an embarrassment that only Landius would have been able to recognize, he carefully wrote down the recipient’s address.

A publisher in the Sailun Kingdom.

The one that had published the heroic novels he had read for leisure during his time as a squire.

What would Fran say if she found out?

No, more than anyone else, what if Lena found out?

Kamael gritted his teeth.

And he thought.

I’m just sending it on a whim, anyway.

I used a pseudonym, so no one will ever know that I, Kamael, am the owner of this manuscript.

Didn’t I even wear a disguise when I came to the post office today?

Yes, so it was fine.

He would send it, get a clean rejection, and just throw away his lingering attachment along with it.

Liberation from his anguish.

After reassuring himself, Kamael sent the purple book to the publisher.

And one month later, in the morning…

A single letter came back from the publisher.

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Translated By: Meher (RaidenTL)

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