Chapter 132 - His Legacy

He opened his eyes. The hazy steam made it difficult to see.

Was he alive?

He was.

"Uuugh..."

The terrible pain radiating from his right shoulder proved it. Pain was proof of life, after all.

"... Haha."

Dafner gave a hollow laugh.

He could see his bow up ahead—the bow he had specially commissioned from a craftsman in the Kingdom of Berft. The vicious heat had damaged much of it, but it had not broken completely.

The hand he needed to hold and fire it, however, had not survived.

It had literally evaporated.

From fingertips to shoulder. His right fingers, hand, wrist, arm, and shoulder had all melted away.

The pain turned his mind blank, but he endured it. He was alive for now, yet he had no idea what was happening or how long he had been unconscious.

His one stroke of luck was that the steam produced when fire met snow had become a fog that concealed him.

'I have to find them.'

Driven by a desperate instinct to survive, Dafner's mind raced. The Heavenly King was trying so hard to kill him because he had seen the tower. If he alone died, its location could be buried once more.

Then what if he made this much bigger?

What if he told everyone in the search party, leaving no solution except to wipe them all out?

'There's no way they could do that!'

They were different from him, a Star but ultimately still a hero. The party included an imperial prince and a royal prince. In particular, Martin, the Empire's Third Prince, was closely involved in the imperial succession, even if he lagged behind the other imperial contenders.

'For some reason, the Third Prince was with the search party.'

He had spotted him even as he fled. He did not know why, but it was good news for him.

Dafner began moving through the fog. Fortunately, he soon found a group of people.

"Your Highness!"

He was lucky. Korzen's prince was not far away, accompanied by his personal guard.

"Lord Dafner! Your arm...!"

"That isn't what matters right now. Your Highness, I've found the tower!"

"... The tower? Is that true?"

"Yes!"

Dafner handed him a recording orb.

"It's in a basin about five kilometers north of the highest peak. It's surrounded by peaks and difficult to see—an ideal place to hide a tower."

No wonder those who had come looking only at the mountaintops had failed to find it.

"You must keep that safe."

He had made copies as soon as he recorded it, just in case, but there was no telling what might happen. He resolved to give one to everyone he met.

"Of course. I won't lose it. But first, your wound..."

"I'm fine. I'll find Prince Martin. Please tell the other members of the search party as well, Your Highness."

"What do you... mean?"

Belof's words never reached him. Dafner was already gone.

Dafner slipped out of the prince's sight in an instant and plunged into the fog, desperately sharpening his senses.

'Quickly, the prince...'

He only needed to find the Third Prince. If he could tell him, he could divert their attention.

But his body would not keep up with his thoughts.

'What's happening...?'

His body suddenly felt heavy.

'Am I too exhausted...?'

No, perhaps it was because he had lost—and was still losing—too much blood.

'... I'm dizzy.'

Was it the exhaustion and blood loss? His head spun. He struggled to steady himself.

That was when it happened.

"You look very tired."

He heard a voice. He checked his surroundings, but no one was there. Even when he extended his senses, he felt nothing.

'Am I hearing things?'

No. It was too clear for that.

"... Who are you?"

"Who do you think?"

The voice was familiar.

"... The Dark Spirit Summoner."

"I'm glad. You remember my name."

That damned Heavenly King.

Dafner gritted his teeth and sprinted. He had to find someone. Yet no matter how he ran, and ran, and ran, he strangely sensed no one nearby.

His arm and legs grew heavy. His breath caught, and his head throbbed. When it reached the limit, he found himself tumbling across the ground. Dirt and snow forced their way into his mouth.

"What is this..."

Only then did Dafner inspect his remaining arm and his legs, and recoil in horror. Steam clung to them, dragging him down like heavy shackles.

"Since when...?"

"Well, since when do you think?"

The voice no longer echoed around him. It came from close by. The masked Dark Spirit Summoner emerged from the fog.

"From the moment you began wandering around," she whispered. "It seeped into you very slowly. Perhaps because of your injuries, you never noticed."

"You bitch...!"

"Don't get worked up. You'll bleed more if you do. And that will hurt more."

"Shut up!"

"I'm sorry we had to meet like this."

Ernyan Hilderan had never been particularly close to Dafner. His connection had always been with her father.

Still, they had met a few times, and whatever his private motives, he had treated her kindly on each occasion.

But everything, including relationships, had its priorities. Some mattered less, and others more.

Berge came before Dafner. That was all.

"Lord Dafner."

She approached slowly. Dafner backed away—or tried to. His arm and legs, bound by the fog, would not allow even that.

The distance closes. Dafner's heart pounds as though it might burst.

What should he do?

What?

What can he do to survive?

He had no strength left to resist. Even so, he wanted to live. He searched for a way to survive.

At that moment...

"Lord Dafner."

The voice whispers once more. Their eyes meet. The world slows.

'...'

Those brilliantly sparkling amethyst eyes. The platinum-blond hair swaying in the fog. That innocent manner of speaking.

For some reason, they are familiar.

It cannot be. It absolutely cannot be. His mind screams that it is impossible, yet why...?

The worst possible explanation flashes through his mind. His pupils tremble. The Dark Spirit Summoner notices the change.

"... You recognized..."

She gives him a sorrowful smile.

"...me, didn't you?"

"... It really is..."

"Yes."

"... Why?"

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you. No one—no one at all—would understand."

The confirmation actually calmed him. No, was that calm? He simply could not find a way to respond to something so far beyond his comprehension.

TAP

Something caught against his back. Someone's foot.

"Lord Dafner?"

Hillen Cargill approached through the fog. Dafner brightened.

"Lord Hillen!"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. More importantly, that Heavenly King..."

"The Heavenly King?"

"The Heavenly King..."

He could not bring himself to say it. Even after seeing and confirming it himself, he could not believe it. It was too far removed from everything he knew.

But Hillen supplied the words he could not speak.

"Is the Heavenly King Her Highness, Hilderan's Crown Princess, by any chance?"

"That's righ—"

Wait.

"How do you know that?"

"Well, how do you suppose I know?"

"... What does that mean?"

"Are you certain no one can see us?"

Hillen was not looking at Dafner. His gaze passed beyond him to the Heavenly King, the Dark Spirit Summoner—to Ernyan Hilderan.

"There are a few people who might be able to see through it, but none of them are nearby right now."

"... Don't tell me..."

An explanation even worse than his imagined worst came to mind.

Surely not.

"... You."

"Yes?"

That unruffled smile sent an even colder chill down his spine.

Surely not.

Surely it could not be.

The faint killing intent turned his suspicion into certainty.

"... Humanity..."

"That's right."

His heart sank.

"... Aren't you the hero who killed two Demon Kings? You have everything waiting for you. Why would you side with a Demon King?"

"I never thought I would end up like this either."

But now that he had, what could he do?

"Still, I hope you won't feel too wronged."

Everyone had their own circumstances.

"Just as you ran all this way to survive, I'm merely struggling to stay alive myself."

"Please make it painless."

Ernyan murmured the words. It was her final courtesy to Dafner Philiain.

"Am I supposed to be grateful?"

Dafner gave a short laugh at her consideration. It was neither amusement nor joy. It was surrender—the despair of someone with no way left to live.

A kidnapped princess and a man worthy of becoming the greatest hero had betrayed humanity and sided with a Demon King.

"Hillen Cargill. One day, you will pay for this. Do you think you can cover the sky with a finger?"

"I believe it's possible, since this is no finger."

A Demon King could never be measured against something as trivial as a finger.

"I'll be watching to see how far that confidence gets you."

"Unfortunately, you won't live to see it."

Dafner closed his eyes.

SLICE

A single line was drawn.

Worn down by a long flight, severe injuries, and excessive blood loss, Dafner could not resist. He did not even try.

He merely opened his eyes wide, glared at humanity's traitor, and gave a hollow smile.

The kindly face distorted. His view spun and changed. He saw a mask. Snow-white skin, platinum-blond hair, a mask, and innocent eyes.

The world spun.

He breathed in cold air. He caught sight of a spirit smiling behind the woman.

The scattering red droplets of blood were beautiful. The white world drew closer.

SPLAT

First came warmth, then cold. A metallic tang seeped around his mouth, followed by a chill that pushed it away.

His eyelids were heavy. A shadow fell across his wavering, dimming vision.

Something collapsed. A hot, red stream covered his face.

Ah.

Only then did he realize it was his own body.

His head had been cut off.

That was the end.

Before he could fully close his eyes, his soul left his body.

One of the Stars that illuminated the darkness had fallen.

* * *

CRACKLE

The artificially created fog cleared.

"It's lifted!"

"The mages have dispelled the fog!"

Amid the snow that had melted entirely into water, barren earth and a massive crater emerged.

The crater was filled with red water and flesh. Blood and corpses.

"... My God."

The survivors recoiled in horror at the devastation.

It was not because of the flames the demon had spewed, nor the crater they had left behind.

It was because the half-burned corpse, the corpse whose neck bore signs of having been torn apart, belonged to a great Star.

Dafner Philiain.

One of the ten Stars who represented the heroes had fallen.

The imperial prince, the royal prince, the knights, the mages, the rangers—all the survivors fell silent as though by agreement.

Without a word, they recovered the bodies and treated the wounded. Watching them, the two princes let out low groans.

"... What will you do?"

"..."

Martin bit his lip.

The demon that had spewed those flames was the Demon King. The Demon King had killed Dafner Philiain himself.

Why?

Why had the Demon King acted personally?

'Is this a warning to me?'

It felt like pressure to keep his promise. As though the Demon King were roaring that he could leave his tower at any time and act contrary to the Guide.

Killing Dafner Philiain, the Star who had hidden among the search party, and unleashing those terrifying flames that burned everything conveyed the same message.

'He killed Dafner Philiain. Is he saying he can easily kill someone like me?'

Perhaps it was a warning to abandon the search for the tower and go home.

"I believe we should retreat now."

As Martin wrestled with his thoughts, Belof offered his opinion first.

"Our losses are heavy. And above all, Dafner Philiain's death has dealt a serious blow to morale."

The shock of Dafner Philiain's death itself, and the fear of the high-ranking demon who had killed him, gripped the entire search party.

Dafner Philiain was dead—what chance did they have?

If a high-ranking demon was that powerful, how could they face the Demon King?

"His loss is tragic, but that is all the more reason to withdraw. We must regroup and report their strength and capabilities. Bitter and unfair as it is, this search has failed."

"But..."

"If you refuse to leave, Your Highness, I will retreat myself. Pressing on in our current state will only cause more needless casualties."

"... Very well."

Martin nodded as though he had no choice. He had been considering retreat himself, so with Belof proposing it first, he had no reason to refuse.

"And, in fact..."

Belof lowered his voice.

"...?"

"... We have completed our mission."

"What do you mean?"

Belof took out the recording orb.

"This contains the tower's location. We've found it."

"... How did you get this?"

Martin's voice dropped of its own accord.

"Lord Dafner gave it to me before he died."

"... My God."

"I can give this to you, Your Highness. But not for nothing."

"..."

Brief though the time had been, Belof had considered how he should—and could—use this extraordinary information: the tower's location.

Keeping it to himself was not the right approach. He could publicize the Empire's incompetence and his own side's competence, but that would be the worst possible way to antagonize the Empire.

"Who discovered this must matter a great deal to you, Your Highness, given the situation in the Empire."

"You want a deal?"

"Yes."

That was why he had changed course. The person he would have to share the credit with was already beside him. Better to make a small show of doing him a favor and establish a connection.

The Third Prince's faction might be weaker than those of the First Prince, Second Prince, and First Princess, but he was still an imperial prince and one of the four leading contenders.

"I will lend you my support, Your Highness."

So...

"Please lend me yours as well."

For their mutual benefit.