Episode 130 Qualification (1)
Silence fell on the room. It was a quiet silence that suited the place called a graveyard.
Pass.
The undead that had been swarming like a swarm of ants each turned to dust and entered eternal rest.
Of course, Michelangelo was among them. He just lowered his gaze and looked at his palm. The tips of his fingers were turning into dust and scattering.
“Heh heh-”
A bright smile appeared on Michelan’s lips. His body was crumbling. He would only have a few minutes left on earth.
But there was not a bit of regret in his heart. It was only with a feeling of relief that Michelan closed his eyes.
“Mr. Michelan!”
Abel called him in an urgent tone. Her eyes were red with tears.
Michelangelo accepted the words with a sheepish smile.
“Descendant of the Black Sword, please don’t make that face. This little guy has lived for 700 years. This is the comfortable ending I’ve always hoped for, so I hope you’ll send him off with a smile.”
“… Well, still.”
Abel wrinkled his nose to keep himself from crying. It had only been a few hours, but Michelan had been a great support.
A little while ago, when I was half out of my mind, Michelan had consoled me. Although he was a moving corpse, he was a man more human than anyone else.
He turns into a handful of dirt. He says goodbye with a bright smile.
Michelangelo continued in a calm tone.
“Your Majesty, you may only feel your father’s sorrow.”
Abel captured the moment of his father’s last words in his eyes. And for a moment, their eyes met.
A soft smile that drew a crescent moon. With that, my father turned to dust. The dazzling sunlight poured light on the place where he had been lying.
Abel wiped away his tears. The reward for his wish that he had been harboring since he was seven was his father’s smile.
Although he could not find his mother, he must have rested in peace with his father.
Abel wanted to show himself as a grown man rather than mourn.
“… … .”
Meanwhile, Michelangelo stared up at the crumbling tower. A boy stood with his back turned, his black hair flowing lazily in the wind.
Kang Geum-ma was an unusual boy.
His speech and attitude were somewhat stiff. His eyes were cynical and his gestures were merciless.
Moreover, he wielded his sword like a ghost and then immediately released an aura.
Even for Michelangelo, who had lived several times longer than most people, it was a fresh shock.
‘Black hair and black hair… … .’
Michelan pondered the external features of the swordsman. With half of his arm gone, he continued to search his memory.
I can’t quite remember… Michelangelo had extraordinary intellectual curiosity. If things continued like this, it would be an uneasy ending, the only regret I have.
Michelan’s eyebrows narrowed. He calmly scanned the revolving lantern, lost in the past.
“… … !”
Then suddenly a piece of memory came to mind.
It was 700 years ago. It was around the time when I met Aaron Nibelung by chance through my cousin’s friend.
Since he was good at talking even while he was alive, I talked to him about various things.
Aaron, who was loved by the sword, had a very easygoing personality.
Moreover, her golden eyes, which sparkled like stars, had the power to attract people. She was a woman who received attention in everything she did, just like your descendant Abel.
His every word was full of life, and everything he did was riveting.
Her voice was always full of confidence and compassion.
In particular, the image of you speaking about your teacher, the proto-hero Balor Joaquin, is vivid in my mind.
* * *
“Michelangelo, you know what? People think my teacher is a great guy, but in fact, most of them are just idiots.”
Aaron blurted out words while lighting a campfire. Michelan was startled by her words.
“Ah, no. Even if you are the Master of the Sword, if you slander the hero of the first poem like that, you will be punished by heaven!”
“Hahaha! People are giving too much credit to the Master. The Master is just a human being. Should I say that he is even more stupid in other aspects? Anyway, he is a unique and stupid character. That description is perfect.”
“… … .”
Aaron chuckled along with him, poking the poker. Something was so funny that his smile spread across his face. Michelan just kept his mouth shut.
“But actually, I also say this. I can’t deny the fact that he’s a genius. How should I put it? His appearance and atmosphere are completely different from other people… … Sometimes, it feels like he’s fallen from another world.”
“I am sorry, but how is the hero of the poem different from you? You are someone who never shows your face… …. I am afraid that I might commit the rudeness of not recognizing you later.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. You’ll know it when you see it.”
“…yes?”
Before continuing, Aaron smiled faintly. She stared at the sparks popping out and spoke.
“Black hair and black eyes, what do you think? You’ll recognize me when you see me in person? Oh, right. And please keep it a secret that I talked behind your back, Master. Until the day I die. For sure! For sure!”
* * *
“…her.”
A gasp escaped from Michelangelo’s teeth. Perhaps it was a fabricated memory.
I wondered if my discernment had become clouded by the long years. But what was this goosebump that had appeared on my arm?
At that moment, Kanggeomma jumped down from the top of the tower. He landed gently on the ground and took brisk strides.
Thud, thud.
Michelan held out his one remaining hand. Even that arm was rapidly oxidized, becoming transparent. Even the outline of the body was blurred like fog.
I won’t be able to hold out until the author gets here. Michelangelo shook off his regret with a bitter smile.
Just the pride of having shared this moment is enough. It must be an honor that not everyone can enjoy.
Shail, who was watching the scene from the side, asked him.
“Do you have anything to say to the sword master?”
At first glance, Shail had insisted on subduing Michelan, but her expression was also gloomy.
Michelangelo hesitated for a moment, but soon shook his head.
“doesn’t exist.”
“… … .”
A stubborn answer came back.
In the middle of the picture, Michelangelo laughs out loud.
“I promised to take it to the grave with someone I know. Just tell them I’m grateful.”
“mister!”
Abel shouted in surprise. Michelangelo smiled brightly.
“Please take care of the future.”
* * *
Immediately after leaving the Undead Dungeon, we headed straight to our lodgings.
“… … .”
“… … .”
“… … .”
Inside the taxi heading to the hotel, the air was heavy. The driver read the expressions on the faces of the people in the rearview mirror and stepped on the accelerator without saying a word.
When I got to my room, I fell into bed as if I had fainted.
This journey was a great success. Not only did I obtain the ‘Stone of Immortality’, which was my original goal, but I also suffered no damage.
Shail suffered a minor scrape. She said it would get better with a few patches.
‘I’m worried, but that’s what the person involved said.’
On the other hand, Abel looked visibly tired. He was just staring blankly out the window in the taxi. He seemed to be feeling fine, but his head was in a mess.
My joints were aching from the aftereffects of [Protection of the Sword God]. However, on the outside, I looked completely clean without any minor injuries.
Fortunately, I avoided going to the hospital thanks to the pain relief rate. To be honest, I only avoided hospitalization, but my body was completely exhausted.
For the time being, it is impossible to manifest Gaho. At that time, I will really be lying in a hospital bed for five days. I came all the way overseas to just smell medicine.
Just thinking about it makes me frown.
“ha.”
For some reason, I felt suffocated as if there was a thorn stuck in my neck. I lay down, supporting my head with my arm.
I stared blankly at the ceiling for a long time.
“… … .”
I was about to fall asleep right away when I took out the magic stone I had been holding. I held it with my tongs and looked at it from different angles under the soft light.
A boulder that radiated a charming luster. The finish was rather rough for a jewel.
“A stone like this can kill so many people… … .”
I remembered what had happened just a few hours ago. Countless dead people had suffered for hundreds of years on this stone the size of a handful.
The Lich King Draugr, he too was a victim of this damned stone… In fact, this tiny stone was the main body.
“If it were up to me, I’d like to chew it up.”
I clicked my tongue and put the magic stone in my pocket. It was clearly in the status window earlier—
‘It is a pure gem that has been cleansed of the spirit of the dead.’
―As you said, it may be ominous, but it won’t drain magic power like before.
Even if there is any sign of that, I intend to destroy it on the spot.
Even though strengthening your weapons, or more precisely, ‘granting special abilities’, is something you want, it’s foolish to take risks.
But apart from that, I was curious about what kind of additional abilities it would have. What kind of expression would it make when I brought it to Buland after the vacation was over?
He’ll probably ask you in detail, with his eyes twice as big as before, “Where did you get that?” Then you’ll just have to tell him that you picked it up somewhere.
I can tell just by looking at him that he’s a loose-lipped old man, but I don’t want to just reveal the source.
And there’s another way of life I learned while trying to persuade Shail today. Just go out shamelessly. I kept pushing, and she just moved her lips.
‘You can omit the explanation as much as possible from now on. Because once you see the results, you’ll probably keep your mouth shut.’
While looking at the ceiling, I suddenly muttered.
“I wonder if Abel is okay.”
He had a particularly bad expression. Well, his father had turned into a strange demon and then disappeared completely.
Abel only achieved his initial goal of ‘seeing the end of his father’, but he failed to achieve anything ultimately.
Even though I was the one who killed his father, in a way, I deserved to be hated by her. However, Abel did not show any dissatisfaction.
Instead, he thanked me. He said he was really grateful that I listened to his request. His choked voice still lingers in my ears.
How much must Abel have had to discipline himself to say those words? It’s a superhuman level of self-control that makes you wonder if he’s even a teenager.
Even Abel’s father closed his eyes, holding back words, saying that it might have a negative impact.
Indeed, should we say that grandfather, that father, that granddaughter…? … I feel once again that the Nibelung family tree is extraordinary.
‘I should have just made up a few words and told you.’
That thought was fleeting. She immediately shook her head and denied it. The person who must have been most desperate for her was her father.
But he was very careful with his words. He hoped that your daughter would grow up even more.
And for me to add to that? That would be a betrayal of his will.
After I finished organizing my thoughts, I sat up. A sharp pain ran through my body, as if I was being stabbed with needles.
Still, I managed to sit on the windowsill. I plan to return to Switzerland early tomorrow morning.
Originally, we planned to stay a few more days, but decided to head back right away. There was no place like home for Abel to gather his thoughts.
So now is my last night in Lyon, France. I take in the city’s scenery with my quiet eyes.
The sunset is fading. A hazy darkness is descending.
Below, people and cars move busily. The street signs begin to light up with various colors.
A landscape that is beyond comfort. To achieve this, 700 years ago, humanity fought against the demons. I saw them with my own eyes today.
It is a world they have protected by shedding countless blood. However, an even greater disaster is expected in three years.
Today, I received a favor from them that wasn’t really a favor. I asked them to protect this world that I had passed down to them.
I scratched the ball.
“But isn’t the number wrong? The hero is Leon.”
I finished muttering to myself and climbed down from the window sill. My shoulders felt strangely heavy.
Why’s the author turning Leon into chopped liver