Chapter 70: A Flicker of Hope Amid Despair

Being outside the order made escaping easier.
Linthiem respected the faith of Lucilonia, but ultimately it was a place that weighed practical benefits more heavily.
So it seemed they chose to protect Lema, who had put great effort into the recent monster incident.
The fact that this decision was secretly conveyed through Maurice, who bestowed a noble title, indicated it was the will of the royal family.

While fiddling with the prized sword awarded for second place, Lema was gripped by a strange feeling.
He never imagined anyone outside the order would offer such protection.
It’s fortunate that my master issued that command.

And this creature.
He wasn’t even sure it should be called a monster.
Without a saddle or reins, he had to ride it purely using thigh strength.
He never thought the magical stones he was ordered to collect would serve such a purpose.
It almost felt like they foresaw this happening.

Are you alright?
Lema studied Bel’s expression.
There was no particular reaction.
Though they hadn’t fully left Linthiem, merely moving beyond the city made the road quickly grow desolate.

A small path meandered along a towering mountain, with nothing notable except a stone wall surrounding the trail.
It was exceptionally quiet. No sound of people, not even livestock. Only the occasional chirping of insects, the cries of mountain birds, and the rustle of leaves stirred by the wind.
The illuminating torches along the path gradually diminished, promising complete darkness once the sun set.

Although it was still early evening, the sun would soon fall in such terrain.
Noticing gravel mixed into the stone wall, Lema realized a lake wasn’t far off.

“Master, there’s no sign of a tracker. Shall we take a short rest?”
“Yes.”
“There might be a lake nearby. I thought we could find it and let this one drink some water. I’m not sure if a monster drinks water, though.”
“Drink. It’s just a beast.”
“I see.”

Lema accepted the explanation surprisingly easily. Guiding a unicorn-like beast resembled ordinary horseback riding. Its behavior seemed not much different, as it moved obediently along the guided path.

Soon enough, just as Lema predicted, a small lake appeared.
A transparent lake reflecting the gradually darkening evening sky.
The summer night insects’ chirping grew louder. Fireflies twinkled and danced through the clean air.

Releasing the unicorn, it calmly trotted to the lake’s edge and drank.
Splash. Splash.

Lema washed his face with cold water, easing some of his tension, while Bel stood a little away, arms crossed, gazing blankly at the sky.
…She looked utterly bored.

For some reason, this made Lema anxious. He shook off the water and approached Bel.
“Master, may I have the honor of holding you for a moment?”
Bel didn’t respond, merely nodded. That was enough.

Cradling Bel lightly, Lema sought a place where the sky opened up. It wasn’t ideal, but considering the nearby lake, high ground wasn’t readily available.
Somewhat disappointed, Lema nevertheless found a suitable spot and pointed in a direction.

Ping! Peeng!
As soon as they settled, sounds began emanating from afar.
The noise seemed distant. However, fireworks lighting up the sky brighter than stars were clearly visible even from afar.

The fireworks burst one after another, resembling a meteor shower streaking through the sky. Each firework would fade and flare up anew.

Watching Bel stare blankly upward, Lema gently spoke beside her.
“Watching from afar isn’t so bad.”

No, it seemed even more beautiful from a distance.
With the sun now set, the dark surroundings made the fireworks even more vivid.

Bel remained silent, only observing the display. What she was thinking, whether she liked it, remained inscrutable.

“In the past…”
Unexpectedly, the usually taciturn Bel spoke first as Lema prepared his words.
“…when the moon drew near, humans feared to look at the sky.”
“Is that so?”
Lema also gazed in the same direction.
“It seems they’re no longer afraid.”
“Afraid? It’s beautiful, isn’t it.”

Though only one remained, the round moon growing brighter in the deepening evening, and the guiding stars of travelers—always looked upon out of necessity—remained eternally diverse and beautiful.

“…Humans fearing annihilation summoned me. If they no longer fear the sky, there is no reason for me to exist.”

Bel claimed she had existed since the ancient second moon fell from the sky.
Granting people’s wishes.
As if having no other purpose or worth.

“Perhaps that is why I can’t find my summoner. Because there’s no reason left to exist.”

Lema stole a glance at Bel’s profile. As always, expressionless. Yet somehow appearing bitter.
That wasn’t true.
Lema wanted to deny it.
To think there was no reason to exist. Please don’t say that. It was Belmias who gave purpose to his life.

But here, he couldn’t dare deny his master’s words.
“…Yes.”

Bel’s dark eyes gleamed faintly.
“It’s simply beautiful.”

Somehow anxious, Lema decided to change the subject rather than deny it.
“Master, please accept this.”

He extended both hands, offering the sword he’d long wanted to give Bel—the second-place reward from the gladiatorial tournament. The blade was long enough to reach Bel’s chest when stood upright but looked fitting nonetheless.
Despite the original plan falling apart, it was miraculous that the sword still ended up in his hands.

Bel silently took the sword, which reassured Lema.
“By the way, it’s my fault. I’m sorry. It seems luring the summoner has become even more unlikely now.”
“…”

Bel quietly looked up.
“Lema, kneel.”
“Huh?”

He asked back absentmindedly.
But quickly, Lema composed himself and knelt before Bel.

Swung.
Belmias drew the sword he had just handed over.
Its blade shimmered, absorbing the moonlight.

Lema swallowed dryly.
He thought Bel might punish him for ruining the plan.
Although nervous, he decided to accept whatever came obediently.

But Bel used the drawn sword differently.
The heavy, sharp blade grazed one of Lema’s shoulders, then the other.
Just as the royal family of Linthiem had awarded second place in the gladiatorial tournament.

Lema stared blankly at Bel, his lower lip trembling.
Bel spoke softly.
“If there is a proper method of investiture, I said I would do it.”
“…”

The fireworks had already ceased.
Bel stood backlit by the bright moon.
Was it just an illusion, or did it seem Bel was smiling?

Tears streamed down Lema’s cheeks without preamble.
His vision didn’t blur. His throat didn’t constrict. His eyes didn’t burn.
The tears were just as transparent and viscosity-less as the lake’s water.
Yet the cold night air carried undeniable warmth along his face.

“…Master.”
A short, hoarse voice escaped.

Humans no longer feared the sky, and so Bel was unnecessary. That couldn’t be true.
“Even if humans no longer need me, if you say you need me, master.”

At least to Lema Valkite.
“Would you be my very own master?”

Bel narrowed her eyes and tilted her head.
Her lips slightly parted.
Lema interpreted that as a sign of acceptance.

His heart pounded.
Certain the desired answer would come.
Yet from Bel’s parting lips, no words emerged.
Only a furrowed brow and a look of focused intent.

“…”
“Master?”

Sensing something amiss, Lema called out, but there was no reply.
Instead of responding, Bel turned Shin-type and dashed in a single direction.
“Master…!”

At an astonishing speed, Lema had no choice but to get up and run full throttle after her.
Lema’s body, awakened with apostle abilities, possessed strength and stamina beyond that of an ordinary human. Still, catching up to Bel, who darted like the speed of sound, was difficult.

Breath hitched, and he felt like he had crossed an entire mountain.
Then, at a certain moment—

“Ugh…!”
A pungent scent of blood pierced his nostrils, and he came to a halt.
What on earth is this…?

Everything before his eyes was stained red.
As though a giant circle had been drawn on the floor in blood, filled densely with unknown characters.
And at the center of this carnage lay a human.

A formation drawn in blood, seeping from his own body.
Disheveled black hair, appearing even darker soaked in red blood.
A sharp sword seemingly plunged into his chest by his own hand.

Bel grasped the man by the collar, swiftly pulling the sword embedded in his chest.
No blood splattered. It seemed healed as the blade was withdrawn.
Then, the man opened his eyes.

Jet-black pupils, identical to Bel’s, found focus.
“Ah… Finally.”
Krughgal.
That madman.

“You respond when I offer myself.”
He confirmed Bel’s presence before bursting into manic laughter.
“…Master.”