Chapter 173
Swoosh—. A gentle breeze blew. The blossoming spring soon swayed the petals, scattering their fresh scent. Beyond the softly drifting fragrance, a vivid season shone. Yet, even in such a season, there was an undeniable incongruity. It was the blood pooling on the ground, and the frost clinging everywhere. At the heart of this solitary winter, someone sat slumped. The once proud ice shattered.
"Haa, haa..."A tattered figure.The boy, covered in blood, gasped for breath.His <F1>Blue Hair</F1> identified him as <F1>Ruska Beniti</F1>.He had become a mere rag.
"Ah... the little bastard, he was tenacious and gave us a hard time." "Our <F1>Young Master</F1> has grown quite a bit, hasn't he?" "Indeed. I never thought he'd take down two of us." Before the boy stood several <F1>Shadows</F1>. A sneer was etched on each of their faces. They looked down at <F1>Ruska</F1>, sprawled on the ground, with amusement. He was in a state that could only be described as utter disarray. As if to attest to his fierce struggle, snowflakes swirled around him. Though even that struggle hadn't lasted five minutes.
The flowing blood stained his vision. His eyes closed against the dull, heavy pain. Yet, even though the boy was utterly broken, he did not release the sword in his hand. Perhaps finding his tenacity amusing, their sneers deepened. Various taunts reached his ears.
Why don't you nicely open your eyes? Why did you rush your fate? We were going to deal with you eventually anyway. There was no need to annoyingly let the target escape. Tsk... cleaning this up will be a hassle.
Thwack—! An arrow, shot playfully, pierced his thigh. Red spread across his trembling trousers. <F1>Ruska</F1> gritted his teeth. Whether they were deliberately toying with him or not, they aimed only for the most painful spots, avoiding instant death. Perhaps they intended to enjoy themselves as much as possible, since they had time anyway.
"I never thought the <F1>Young Master</F1> would betray us.""He was so obedient all this time. It was convenient.""In three minutes, the <F1>Faculty</F1> will notice something.""Let's finish him quickly and get out of here~."
It wasn't funny. Even though they were the ones who had truly betrayed the <F1>Family</F1>. The boy could not avoid the defilement of his honor. The vitality in his blue eyes dimmed.
*Was I wrong...?*
His consciousness slowly blurred.
It had been impossible from the start.
A future where he, who couldn't even overcome his <F1>Lady</F1>, would triumph over the <F1>Family</F1>'s <F1>Assassins</F1> was unthinkable.
However, having stood here prepared to die, he felt no regret. For this would free <F1>Emilia</F1>. His only lingering regret was...
*...that he hadn't become a hero yet.* It was a small, childish wish he had buried deep in his heart since childhood. His father, whom he had always admired. The figure he had always wanted to emulate now felt as fleeting as a mirage. <F1>Ruska</F1> chewed over his fading self-portrait. His faint heartbeat settled in his eardrums.
<F1>Ruska</F1>.
A hero isn't necessarily someone accompanied by miracles.
If you can stand even on faltering legs, the stars will name you so.
You must become such a person.
His heart pounded. As if to declare to the world that he was still alive. A faint pulse and breath were all that remained of the boy. His flickering life was like grains of sand. The more he tried to gather it, the more he despaired as it slipped away. The boy simply stood before his own winter. He gripped his broken sword.
Shing—.
*Perhaps.*
His last, desperate surge of strength.
The meager coldness quickly turned into <F1>Cryomancy</F1>, sharpened into a venomous blade.
The carved <F1>Frost Spikes</F1> once again took the form of a sword blade.
He planted his faltering legs on the ground.
*Can I... still become a hero?*
He asked himself.
A child cloaked in evil, he questioned.
though he had succumbed to reality, defiled his aspirations, and conformed to it
Though he had forgotten his true youth and sunk into adulthood.
Could he still walk towards the <F1>Night Sky</F1>?
Would the stars name even him?
As he raised his sword, a voice echoed.
<F1>My child.</F1> It was like a miracle. Against the backdrop of a dawn he could not yet reveal, a faint whisper sought <F1>Ruska</F1>.
<F1>Why do you seek me in your heroic tale?</F1><F1>Life has no night nor sky.</F1><F1>If you wish to shine, shine; if you wish to endure, endure, for that is life.</F1><F1>No one dictates the name of your story.</F1><F1>Therefore, you shall live your own dawn.</F1>
It was not the <F1>Voice of the Star</F1>. For he lacked the talent to receive a response from transcendence. Rather, it was his heart, which had never ceased to burn, that was aflame. A thirst for heroism, and a will—it was a kind of auditory hallucination born from them. In short, it was nothing more than a dream without any true meaning.
But.
<F1>Grasp your sword.</F1><F1>The world is still your night.</F1>
Even if it was merely a falsehood. It was enough for the boy.
<F1>Shine.</F1>
<F1>Ruska</F1> rose. He took his stance. Behind him, <F1>Frost Spikes</F1> billowed like a cloak. The full dawn was contained in his fingertips. He opened his relaxed eyes wide. He eliminated all hesitation. Fluttering a pure white banner, he unleashed the full power of both hands. Like the tales of heroes he had admired since childhood. Like any name he had childishly wished for.
"Haa..."
His breath plumed out.
The temperature in the <F1>Alley</F1> dropped rapidly.
Thump—.
The boy took a single step.
A sword of <F1>Cryomancy</F1> was woven straight.
The hand that had briefly steadied itself now pierced through the stillness.
A blue line surged forward, as if to shatter an axis.
An almost instantaneous <F1>Flash</F1> illuminated the surroundings.
"......!?"
The <F1>Assassins</F1> were startled by the sudden, piercing movement.
Had they believed him completely incapacitated?
Some couldn't react, giving the boy space.
His flowing <F1>Blue Hair</F1> unfurled a spell without hesitation.
A dazzling radiance enveloped the blade.
Swoosh—!
The <F1>Ultimate Technique</F1> that encapsulated his insignificant life.
The sharp sword blade was eerily silent.
There wasn't a trace of waver in his blue eyes.
Star. That was the name the boy gave it. Even if it was treated as fake, like a shard of glass among grains of sand. Even if the world called him something else. It didn't matter.
-You shall become a star, like a guide.
-So that the weak may hide in your shadow, and the strong may find their way in your light.
Just believing himself to be a star. That was enough. The boy was a star to himself.
"Hup...!"
Slash—.
A straight <F1>Sword Strike</F1> swept over the <F1>Assassins</F1>.
Snowflakes swirled with a brilliant radiance.
The heads severed by the surprise attack were then carried away by the wind.
The price for their carelessness was death.
Only those quick-witted enough remained standing.
Six had been cut down. Still, four enemies remained before him. Compared to before, it was a hopeful number, but <F1>Ruska</F1> was at his limit to continue. His strength, scraped from the very bottom, was completely spent.
Thud—.
His faltering legs gave out.
The end had finally come.
Yet, the boy was satisfied with his own conclusion.
Given the vast difference in power from the start, clearing half of them was an incredible feat.
Moreover, <F1>Ruska</F1> wasn't even a talent chosen by the stars.
This was the best he was allowed.
The boy was hero enough.
"This much... was it enough to land a blow...?" He wasn't worried about the <F1>Remnants</F1>. If he had stalled for this long, the <F1>Faculty</F1> would surely have sensed something amiss. He had simply wanted to personally punish the <F1>Traitors</F1>, even if only a few. And, he had wanted to live as a hero, if only for a moment. Not as a worthless scrap begging for life, but to experience a moment of iron will. <F1>Ruska</F1> felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.
"Damn it...!"
"W-what the hell hit us? What was that just now?!"
"That <F1>Young Master</F1> bastard tricked us! He had a trick up his sleeve until the very end!"
"I told you we should just kill him and get out!"
"Finish him off quickly, now!"
He was a dead man anyway, from the moment he defied the <F1>Mana's Oath</F1> and opposed their will. His heart would surely be crushed in twenty minutes. Perhaps he would be killed before then. He didn't know. The boy simply closed his eyes to fall into a sleep from which he would not awaken and to bid an eternal farewell.
It's quiet. A silence settled gently. A cool spring breeze brushed past. The coldness slowly faded in the season that had finally bloomed. <F1>Ruska</F1> was still, along with his worn-out winter. What he heard at the end of that dawn was...
<F1>Ruska</F1>!
It was none other than a familiar voice.
His vision reflexively cleared.
The boy, with hazy eyes, stared in the direction the sound came from.
There, he saw familiar flowing <F1>Blue Hair</F1>.
It was <F1>Emilia</F1>.
"La- <F1>Lady</F1>...?"
Why was she here?
Before he could even form the question, a <F1>Pitch-Black</F1> curtain fluttered across his vision.
A <F1>Shadow</F1> fell against the backdrop of the <F1>Night Sky</F1>, where <F1>Starlight</F1> descended.
Beyond the coat, a red wine shirt was visible.
The figure, seemingly emerging from the <F1>Darkness</F1>, held <F1>Emilia</F1> protectively.
His characteristic <F1>Slit-Eyed One's</F1> gaze was still ominous.
"Heh heh."A laugh drifted through the dawn.As his eyes met <F1>Ruska</F1>'s, the serpent half-opened his eyelids.His faintly revealed white pupils scanned the surroundings.They were eyes that seemed capable of sucking one in at any moment.The <F1>Alley</F1> was illuminated beneath the enchanting full moon.
You've worked hard, <F1>Young Master</F1>.
The serpent offered a brief word of encouragement.
Then, aiming at the bewildered <F1>Assassins</F1>, he snapped his <F1>Pitch-Black</F1>-covered fingers.
A <F1>Flame</F1> sparked at the boy's fingertips, like a <F1>Flash</F1> triggered by gunpowder.
Along with it, a clear, resounding crack sounded.
Snap—!
Shatter. Immediately after, the heads of the <F1>Assassins</F1> remaining in the <F1>Alley</F1> simultaneously flew into the air. Their lifeless bodies fell one after another. Their end came without any warning, simply a collapse. <F1>Ruska</F1> could only stare blankly upwards.
Surprised?Behind the enchanting moonlight.A smiling <F1>Memento Mori</F1>.