Immortal's Ascending Path-50
Episode-50< Royal Wedding >
It was a sarcastic tone. The man in the middle twisted up the corners of his lips and sneered, but his eyes didn't smile. Roberta racked her brain, trying to remember if anyone had ever shown such an attitude to Ulrich.
There hadn't been. No one who knew Ulrich would dare to lift their head and sneer at him to his face. At least, she had never witnessed it before. This was the first.
Roberta speculated about who the three people confronting them might be. Probably non-theists, heretics. She figured they were the force that had been using monsters to hunt people near the capital and inciting the current chaos.
But why would they show such an attitude to Ulrich? She wondered, remaining vigilant.
"What whim has taken you? This isn't like you. Instead of ignoring it again and staying comfortably in the garden, why did you bother to come here?"
The question continued, but it wasn't asked in a curious tone. He simply sharpened his tone to lash out, continuing to speak before Ulrich could even answer.
"And what are you doing, now that you've come out? You knew this would happen. That's why you left the Yeongji, only to do something utterly meaningless."
Ulrich, who had been exchanging blades just before, had been holding his sword in his right hand, but he lowered it diagonally.
"It wasn't meaningless. You're the ones who made it this way."
"You speak as if you didn't know this would happen."
He sneered and looked at Roberta.
"You must be Roberta, right? The Priest from Ditmarsken sent by Alonso."
Roberta kept her mouth shut and glared at him. Even though she wasn't wearing her Priest robes, the opponent recognized her. It meant they had been watching her from some point.
"How much do you know about this person? Do you know that he's lived since the celestial era when humans were just a handful and the gods lived in our world?"
"...I know. I've heard that."
Then, he added.
"Do you believe it?"
Not knowing why he was asking, she replied briefly.
"To some extent."
"Me too. To be honest, it's still hard to believe. That a mere human has lived for over ten thousand years. Surviving for a time that even fairies and dragons can't endure, in that youthful state."
The gazes of the two briefly lingered on Ulrich.
"But the circumstances are pushing that absurd story to be true. Cormilius believes it, the fairies believe it, and the dragons testify to it. Also, it remains in the few remaining ancient texts."
"Ancient texts...?"
"According to the documents you burned as apocrypha, a certain human inherited the authority of the heavens. He is the only human who can erase his name from the celestial registry, and he has not succumbed to death or old age."
He pointed to Ulrich. "Look at that state." There were several cuts and stab marks on his clothes, but there was no blood or wounds.
"On top of that, his appearance doesn't change. He may look disheveled right now, but if you strip away the disguise, he'll be exactly as he's been described. So, I have no choice but to believe it."
Because the testimonies, records, actions, and appearance all matched, even she, with less knowledge than them, acknowledged Ulrich's unfathomable age.
"Twenty-one years old, when I succeeded my mother, I heard it. When I became qualified to access the truth that Cormilius had hidden, I heard about you. That a primitive man with all sorts of names is still alive."
The honorifics that had remained in his tone disappeared.
"Are you resentful?"
"Well... I wouldn't say I hate you, but I'm dissatisfied."
Just then, the sound of raindrops falling outside the tent could be heard. The sound of rain, as dry soil and water droplets collided, quickly turned fierce.
Roberta narrowed the space between her eyebrows and glanced outside. As the humidity rapidly increased, she also felt a rough flow of mana. An unnatural flow of mana mixed with the rain.
"What is a human who neither ages nor dies and possesses the authority of the heavens doing? Look back on what you're doing with such immense power."
His voice grew louder. He raised his voice as if scolding, asking what he was doing other than changing his name to hide himself or living in seclusion in remote areas, reminiscing about old lovers.
"If you wanted to use the imperial regalia right now, there would be plenty of people who would offer you the emperor's crown, even if it wasn't Cormilius, right? The true Third Era will open by sweeping away the false era, the false empire, and the false religion."
In an instant, lightning covered the field of vision in white, and thunder followed in quick succession.
"You can do anything, and you could have done anything. You could have prevented the world from becoming like this. In other words, isn't it you who made the world like this, and made us like this?"
Roberta, still feeling the flow of mana, interjected in the conversation.
"Your logic is strange. Why are you holding this person responsible?"
"Does it sound like a stretch? Is it wrong to scold someone who doesn't save a child who's drowning and just watches? What about watching someone hanging from a cliff within arm's reach? What about standing still when it's obvious that a mountain will collapse? Aren't all these actions worthy of criticism?"
Roberta read the meaning contained in the metaphor. He was asking for responsibility for not preventing the Osnover civil war, not preventing Cormilius's purge, for actions he could have done but didn't. However, instead of empathizing, she made a sound.
"Well, it just sounds like an excuse."
"An excuse?"
He turned his head sharply and glared at her.
"If someone else said that, it might resonate a little, but do you have the right to say that? You're harming innocent people while yelling at someone, saying that we're committing sins because you didn't sacrifice yourself."
Looking straight at him, Roberta asserted.
"It sounds like petty whining."
"Don't speak recklessly when you don't know anything."
"Don't know? You must be doing something pointless."
"The dog of the Pantheon dares to--"
As he took a step forward, Ulrich stood in front of her to protect her.
"You're right. My actions have led to this result, now."
"So, you admit it."
"But you also overestimate me too much."
Ulrich sighed. It was a breath he exhaled as if vomiting out the lump built up inside, and behind him, Roberta clearly read his fatigue.
"What's your name?"
Moretti, came the reply.
"Do you have children?"
"Of course, not as many as you, though."
"Then let's assume that your children are very numerous."
Moretti sent a questioning look.
"You said that I am a human who has lived for a very long time. That I have lived since the days when humans were just a handful. If I had built a family back then and had many descendants, and those descendants also built families and spread out--"
"······."
"As time passes, my blood will become diluted, and descendants who have never met me in their lives will be born. But among them, there will be those who remember and follow me. What if there is conflict between these people?"
"You're comparing us and Cormilius in that way."
He began to use honorifics again, but the sarcasm remained the same.
"How do you regard me?"
He opened his mouth as if to refute, then closed it again.
"Even if not a single drop of my blood remains in you, you do not regard me as a stranger, so I do not regard you as others either. But you are forcing me to choose. To kill each other, to cut out one side, you are making a proposal, not a proposal, to me. If I choose you, what will you do to Cormilius?"
There was no answer, but it was obvious.
"Conversely, if I choose Cormilius, what will they do to you? Also, even if I don't side with either of you and mediate between you, do you have the will to follow my intentions?"
There was no way they would. Roberta was sure of it in her heart. Look at the Osnover civil war. Even though Ulrich forbade the Pantheon's intervention, they ignored it. Cormilius and the non-theists had even deeper grudges.
"Moretti, you said that I can do anything. Yes, I can. I can awaken the dragons sleeping in that distant land, replant and revive the World Tree, and bring back the giants of the frozen land and the little fairies. That is what was granted to me from heaven."
But, he added.
"At the same time, I cannot. Because there are so many ties I have to sever in order to do so. I am not the kind of person who can cut off entangled ties cleanly. I know myself too well. I once tried to do so, but in the end, I failed."
A quiet laughter flowed out, enough to be buried in the sound of the rain. It sounded like self-mockery, but there was no regret or pity. It was just a dry laugh brought about by the passing days.
"Therefore, I also have responsibility. As you said, my ambiguity is responsible for the results of today. That is why I have come here."
Roberta heard a commotion in her ear. Shouts, screams, and the sound of drums.
"Do you believe that you can solve it now?"
"As you know, I have lived a long time."
Suddenly, Ulrich rushed forward.
He swung his right hand and cut off both of Moretti's wrists, and with his left hand, he grabbed his neck and slammed him to the ground. The two colleagues, surprised by the sudden action, stabbed Ulrich with their swords, but it was a misjudgment.
What good is it to stab a person who doesn't die with a blade? Rather, because the swords stuck tightly in his body, they were helplessly subdued by Roberta and Fritz, who rushed in a beat late.
"Was today's event the first in the time I've let pass?"
Looking down at the subdued three, Ulrich muttered to himself. Moretti, gagged so that he couldn't plot anything foolish, looked up at him with an expression of enduring pain.
"Your goal is the end of this era. To this end, you incited chaos. However, I know that there is also a small grudge against me within that. The reason you avoided me and killed Archbishop Vinicius must also be to prevent me from straying down a different path."
As Moretti averted his gaze, Ulrich looked outside.
"This name will last a long time."
#
The beginning came with the lightning.
As rain poured down on the jousting arena, those sensitive to the flow of mana guessed what would happen next. The gathering of rain clouds was a natural phenomenon, but mana was fluctuating within it. Someone was moving the mana to control the rain clouds as they pleased.
The new nobles of the Hilderson clan and the Pantheon side, facing each other across the arena, stiffened their expressions and rose from their seats as if the time had finally come.
"Have you found out who's doing this?"
Count Mayer Willem also rose from his seat and whispered to his vassal.
"I apologize. There is still no news from the patrol."
"Damn it, we're being tricked by an obvious ploy."
Willem shook his head towards the royal box. From afar, King Richard stared at him intently before pinching his forehead. The two knew the leading forces and had prepared several countermeasures, but they were all in vain.
"They must be moving far outside of here."
"That much mana from a long distance?"
"They're very skilled."
So, Richard must have been helplessly defeated. Tsk, clicking his tongue, he placed his hand on his waist. He knew it wasn't the clan's doing, and he knew it wasn't the Pantheon's side either, but there was no other way. No matter who Baldwin shouted out, persuasion wouldn't work.
"I hoped it wouldn't be, but it turned out as His Excellency feared. There's no choice. Tell them not to hesitate. As it is, minimizing the damage is the best we can do."
"Understood."
"And bring His Majesty Richard over here."
Footsteps went back and forth busily. When the commoners realized the rapidly changing atmosphere, they fled outside, and the nobles checked their armaments and summoned their servants to send notifications to the garrisons.
'Even the Elder couldn't stop it.'
Willem scanned the opposite spectator seats as he was hit by the heavy rain. Even though they were twice as numerous, they were clearly nervous.
The Hilderson clan was the victor of the previous civil war, even though their numbers were small. Although it was a victory due to the leadership of Ulrich, that one person, the level of each individual forming the group was also considerable. Willem did not doubt their victory. He was only worried about whether the damage would be great or small.
"They're moving!"
Mages were gathering mana from the opposite side. Willem also gestured to move the clan's mages. Fortunately, the clan was superior in both the quality and quantity of mages.
The mages who had been found by exploiting the vacancies in the court hated the Pantheon, so they did not fear excommunication and joined hands. Dozens of mages simultaneously moved the mana in one space, waiting for instructions.
And the beginning came with the lightning.
There was no time to argue about who started it. The moment the sky flashed, more than thirty streaks of lightning struck different heads. Tension snapped. Instead of "Kill!", fighting spirit and anger covered their bodies, and the arena between the spectator seats became a battleground.
Thud, thud, thud, the sound of drums and the long, continuous sound of trumpets pierced through the sound of the rain. The armies outside also knew that the battle had begun. More than tens of thousands of troops began to narrow the distance to engage in a single battle.
"Drive out the heretics!"
While belittling each other, smashing heads, stabbing chests, and shattering bodies, a mage let out a short scream and collapsed.
In the midst of the chaotic pandemonium of all sorts of noises, the only person who saw the change in that mage was another mage right next to him.
"Huh? What's wrong with you?"
The mage who had collapsed on the wet dirt floor looked to be around thirty, but his black hair turned white, and his skin was covered in wrinkles. He trembled, making a wheezing sound.
As a fellow mage, he knew the reason. He had lost control of his mana. As the mana that had transformed his body to make him look younger scattered, his true appearance was revealed.
But why?
The question of why led to another question. He wasn't just some mediocre mana user, so why had he lost control of his mana? The question was immediately answered. "Uh, uh?" He also collapsed, making a bewildered groan. He also found his original appearance.
This change spread like a stream from side to side. It was only a moment later that silence remained in the battlefield filled with murderous intent. How many people would be able to ignite their fighting spirit after seeing the person in front of them or next to them suddenly become an old man?
As all the mages unwillingly regained their true appearances, those who were not mages also experienced the same cause. They could no longer feel the flow of mana they had felt their entire lives, and the mana they had held within their bodies flowed out.
"I can't feel the mana...?"
"Why... why suddenly? What on earth is going on?"
Everyone in this place shared the same experience, so they could not suspect each other. No one uttered a sound, only being astonished by the unexpected calamity.
The departed mana soon returned. It permeated their bodies as if nothing had happened, and the senses they had lost were clearly felt.
But the silence continued.
'The blessing has been cut off.'
In the midst of a different kind of chaos than before, only two people realized the truth. King Richard of Osnover and Count Mayer Willem, the two looked at each other and nodded.
'In the end, Father did it.'
They looked at one place. The highest seat in this place, the place where you can see the whole view at a glance, the place where Richard had been sitting, Ulrich was standing.
Ulrich rested both hands on the railing with a calm expression as always. And he looked down at the Osnover people who were standing still as if they were out of their minds.