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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Waking Up to a Bad Omen
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Since time immemorial, black mages have been regarded as the world’s evil.
To burn one's own life force to summon the energy of death was tantamount to defying divine providence.
To make matters worse, they had annihilated the White Dragon, the very essence of white magic. Their goal was to block the flow of life energy that emanated from the dragons.
They succeeded in their objective, but as a result, they were massacred.
They met their end, unable to withstand the Hero, Heros Akion.
But not all the black mages were exterminated.
Some survived, hiding their blades of vengeance and holding their breath.
They were the ones now standing in the forest, consumed by darkness.
“Today was the day we were to announce the revival of the Wraith to the empire in no uncertain terms.”
The man wrapped in bandages spoke again, his aura far more menacing than before.
“It was the day we, the black mages, were to declare the beginning of our revenge upon those who deserve to be torn limb from limb!”
The secret organization formed by the surviving black mages was called the ‘Wraith.’
The man was the leader of the Wraith, and his subordinates, following his orders, had attempted to plant a bomb at the Finch Marquisate. The House of Finch was one of the families in the empire that revered the Gold Dragon. Thus, they were to be made an example of, but alas!
“And you failed such a simple task? I told you to take your own lives on the spot if you failed, yet you’ve stubbornly returned. It seems you do not fear me. What, did you think it would be more comfortable to die by my hand than your own?”
“N-No, that’s not it!”
“We do not mind dying. No, we wish for death! But we came back alive because there is something we must tell you, our leader! Please, hear us out!”
The subordinates, half-prostrate, raised their voices.
“Know that your tongue will be cut out midway if your words are not pleasing to my ears.”
“Yes, sir!”
Wiping away their cold sweat, the subordinates shouted.
“Daphne Akion was there. The child our previous leader cursed! The Hero’s child!”
“That girl absorbed all the death energy from the bomb. It happened in an instant; we couldn't stop it!”
The man’s eyes narrowed.
“Daphne Akion? I’m sure she was killed.”
A few months ago, he, the leader of the Wraith, had ordered a subordinate to kill Daphne.
Because Daphne had been cursed by the previous leader, her body contained an immense amount of death energy.
If she were killed before the curse manifested, that death energy could be recovered.
That was why he had tried to kill Daphne, and he was certain she had been killed.
But she’s alive?
“Either you gave me a false report…”
“That would never happen!”
“Or there is some other reason.”
Could she have been revived? No, even if that were the case, how could she stop a black magic bomb? The leader furrowed his brow.
“Anyone who obstructs the path of the Wraith will not be left alive. Do you understand?”
“Yes. We will take care of it immediately.”
“That Hero’s child, she just has to keep getting in our way.”
Damned Hero’s child.
The one who killed our families, who killed our god.
The thought of him made his body tremble with rage, but it was fine. He would die by their hands eventually. They would hunt him to the very end and kill him!
“It would be nice to see the father and daughter die and disappear side by side.”
The man, who had been chuckling, flicked his fingers toward his prostrated subordinates.
Instantly, a white fire began to flare up from the bone-shaped tattoos on the back of their necks.
“Kugh!”
“Ugh…!”
The fire, rising like white pillars of salt, completely engulfed the subordinates’ bodies and, before long, annihilated them. Even their corpses vanished.
Now, all the death energy they possessed would return to the Wraith, becoming its power once more.
Their lives were not to be mourned.
If you fail, you die.
For through death, they could contribute their strength to the Wraith.
The man, now alone, adjusted a slightly loosened bandage and took a step forward.
“I’m going to find the Calamity’s corpse.”
He would scrape together the power left behind by the Calamity.
The man’s bright yellow eyes glinted like those of a beast.
***
[What Measures Follow the ‘Black Magic Bombing’ in the Heart of the Capital?]
[The Revival of Black Mages, What Have the Guardians Done?]
Heros roughly slammed the newspaper he had received onto the table. Three days had passed since the terrorist attack, yet the public’s interest had not waned.
The reason was the reappearance of the black mages, thought to have been annihilated five years ago, and the Imperial Family’s failure to take decisive action.
Immediately after the attack, Heros had expected the emperor to summon him. But there had been no such command.
He guessed it was because the hero who stopped the attack was his daughter, Daphne, who was still unconscious.
Because of his command, Heros was afflicted with a curse that stripped him of his emotions, his beloved wife had died, and his own daughter had been cursed as well. The emperor must be feeling a sliver of sympathy.
Stopping any further thoughts, Heros sighed again and turned his gaze.
He looked toward Daphne, lying perfectly still in bed as if dead, and the elven physician by her side.
“It’s been three days,” Heros said.
“She hasn’t opened her eyes in three days.”
Teiti swallowed nervously.
When Daphne was first brought in, Teiti thought he was dreaming.
To see a mighty dragon weakened and collapsed… If he told the other elves, they would surely laugh at him, saying they knew he’d go mad eventually.
In any case, after hearing the sequence of events, Teiti had figured out that Daphne had absorbed the death energy to increase her mana capacity. And that she had yet to recover her strength due to the sudden surge.
So, Teiti had only been prescribing restorative medicine, but he couldn't tell Heros the truth. He had no choice but to be evasive, saying things like, “Just a little longer…” or “She’ll wake up in a few days.”
“It has only been three days. She will open her eyes soon.”
No matter how proud an elf Teiti was, he was not so insolent as to speak informally to his employer.
Teiti replied politely. Heros’s brow furrowed in response.
“If death is closer than life, tell me beforehand. I need to prepare for the funeral.”
“…”
*What is with this sociopath?*
Even the elves, known as the coldest of the cold-blooded, wouldn’t speak of their own child in such a way.
This was a fundamental issue of character. Thus, Teiti was flustered. *What’s with his personality? Is he trash?*
“Well…”
But Heros was his employer. An employer who paid several times more than anyone else. Teiti barely managed to swallow the curse that was about to escape his lips and stood up.
“I will go get some medicine.”
Heros didn't answer, merely staring at Daphne until Teiti had left the room.
Daphne’s breathing was shallow and uneven. Her pale face made it seem as if he should go out and call an undertaker right away. To be in this state again in less than a month. Heros let out a long sigh.
[From Problem Child to Hero, Daphne Akion]
[How Did Daphne Akion Come to Be Called a Hero?]
[The Hero and the Heroine, Their Blood is Noble]
He recalled other headlines from the pile of newspapers.
The public was more interested in the birth of a new hero than the revival of the black mages. All the more so because that hero was a child once called a disgrace to her family, a hooligan.
They were eagerly waiting for Daphne to wake up. The Finch Marquisate, whom she had saved, was especially persistent, sending people every day to inquire about her condition and deliver gifts.
In other words, the only person completely uninterested in Daphne’s life or death was her own father, Heros Akion.
‘How cruel of me.’
Heros smiled bitterly.
Five years ago, the black mage who fell by Heros’s hand had placed a curse on him.
—You will now feel nothing!
—Joy, sorrow, love, hatred, you will feel none of it!
It was a curse that erased emotions.
So, Heros could feel nothing. Not the affection, worry, or sadness a parent should feel… no emotion could take root in his heart.
And so, it felt empty. To feel nothing even when Daphne, his wife's last legacy, might die.
Heros unconsciously touched the scar that ran across his face, a wound from a sword Daphne had swung a year ago.
—If it was going to be like this, why did you have me?
—You should have just saved Mom and let me die! I’m going to die anyway, you should have just let it happen!
What had Heros felt when he heard those words?
He had felt nothing. No sadness, no anger, no guilt. Nothing at all.
That was why he could only let the child's sword strike him.
He had thought it might be better to die by that blade. But unfortunately, he did not die. The child's swordsmanship was clumsy, and he had survived.
Since then, Heros has been repeating the same days.
Days of feeling nothing, of holding nothing in his heart.
“How tedious.”
Heros let out a long sigh and shook his head. He stood up, deciding there was no point in staying if Daphne wasn't going to wake up.
Just then.
“Ugh… ah…”
A voice slipped from between the lips of the sleeping Daphne. Heros’s eyes widened as he turned back to her. After tossing for a moment, Daphne suddenly shot up as if sprung.
“Hee-yah!”
Waking with a spirited cry, Daphne looked around before her eyes landed on Heros. Her expression immediately crumpled.
“Agh, damn it. The first thing I see when I open my eyes is the Hero. Can my luck get any worse?”
Daphne grumbled and pulled the blanket back over her head.
“I'm going back to sleep. Tell me when you leave. I'll get up then.”
“Ha?”
“What do you mean, ‘ha’? Try to imagine how I feel, seeing your face the moment I wake up.”
*Is she really crazy?*
“Ugh, you’ve ruined my mood.”
*She’s insane.*
Heros, who had been watching Daphne's antics, felt his facial muscles twitch and touched his cheek.
*Did a smile just appear on its own?*
‘No, that can't be.’
How could that possibly be?
He shook his head firmly.
