Dragonlord Ep 70. Hide Well, Hide True. (4)

Ep 70. Hide Well, Hide True. (4)

Ep 70. Hide Well, Hide True. (4)

Otoka stared into the cauldron.

“And that should be enough…”

After the third day, most of its contents were gone. Only a small, yellow quartz remained brilliantly glowing inside after having absorbed all the liquids that had once been present.

The elderly mage reached inwards, taking the gem into his hand. Despite being left untouched for days, the stone still emitted a faint warmth from within.

When he turned around, Serenis and Aldrid were both anxiously staring at the old man. He wordlessly handed it over to the deity, who accepted the stone into her hand with a firm nod.

“It’s suitable. Thank you, Mr. Lairaff.”

“…You’re most welco, my lady.”

Aldrid firmly grasped the stone. The deity wasted no ti in letting golden lights pour out of her hand and into the gem’s innards, filling it with bits of her divinity that the gem would now be able to contain.

Normally, she would’ve liked to celebrate – blessing others through gifts of her divinity was historically a joyous occasion. Their recipients had often been rulers or heroes who’d live long, prosperous lives free of disease and full of joy.

But this ti, the recipient considered themselves nothing alike. One brief glance into the dragonlord’s eyes, and such thoughts would imdiately vanish.

Serenis was a ruler in na – but truthfully, she ruled nothing. Everything she’d once ruled disappeared in a distant past. She’d failed her kin, and those that could be considered heroes among the demonkin were all dead because of her.

Then, it was only natural that this artifact wouldn’t ever be a celebratory gift. Aldrid could vaguely guess at what this item would an to the dragonlord.

She might as well as have handed Serenis a knife to fight with.

“…Lord Serenis.”

Aldrid wore bittersweet smile as the golden light dissipated. She took a brief mont to thread the stone with a prepared string, turning it into a small bracelet before it was offered to the expressionless dragonlord.

Serenis dutifully accepted the accessory, wrapping it twice over her left wrist. She didn’t even bother to et Aldrid’s gaze; her silence on the matter was making the atmosphere heavier than any word ever could.

And when Aldrid couldn’t take it anymore, she bit her lips and abruptly gripped her lord by their shoulder. Only then did the Serenis raise her eyes to et the deity’s gaze, and only then was she able to speak honestly.

“…I’ll go with you.”

“We’ve discussed this before, child. You’ll stay.”

“But-”

“This isn’t your responsibility.”

Over and over, Serenis had recounted the sa phrase countless tis.

Demonkind’s extinction wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own.

The reason a figure like Felicir was able to rise to power at all, wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own.

Serenis still didn’t know how or why she’d co back to life – but her own purpose remained clear nonetheless.

‘…Death wasn’t enough.’

The First’s divinity still remained in her world.

If she’d been even a little more like the other lords, the demonkin might not have died in vain.

Dying a single horrible death hadn’t been enough to atone. For the nurous lives that suffered and perished beneath her ignorance, it didn’t make sense to rest after one single death.

Then, perhaps the condemned had been brought back to life – to make things right again.

Despite her ti here, this era was still just a dream to Serenis: a far-fetched fantasy that should never have occurred. But unlike her, this era was reality for those who lived into the present.

Deities or not, it was ho to everyone occupying the star in this very mont. Nothing bound them to care, or even rember, of what had happened all those years ago. Just as Felicir had intended, demonkind was reduced to myths and legends; not even their few descendants had rembered how things once were.

And yet, Aldrid struggled to accept the reality of her lord’s decision.

“…But I want to help you. You even ant to take the professor with you!”

“It was a foolish thought.”

Without realizing, Serenis had equated the Twelve to rulers of their own domains; lone tyrants of their respective areas, just like the First. And so far, Serenis had been fortunate enough to et two divinities, neither of which opposed her return to life.

But the Twelve were not rulers, nor were they reflections of the First. They were people – and nothing but sheer luck had allowed Serenis to et those who remained alone. There was nothing to guarantee that the next divinity she encountered would also be alone.

Indeed, it was quite likely that they wouldn’t be. If the deity of death was in the company of other divinities, there was no telling what would be at stake.

“I may have taken you or Karas if the divinity of death was alone. But in the event he isn’t, I cannot risk taking others I cannot look after.”

“I’ll be fine. You won’t have to keep safe, I won’t burden you. I’m not even from this era! I’m still-“

“You both have your entire worlds to lose. I do not.”

Aldrid and Karas had both built their lives according to this era; the sa went for Iris. All of them had new hos and bonds to live in and cherish. They all lived in the present.

Serenis, alone, lived in the past.

This was not her ho. Neither Patrick’s house in Partivine, nor the dragonkin’s nest in the valleys, were her ho. This star was no longer the ho she loved and rembered.

She’d returned to life to finish what her kind had begun. In this alien world, her purpose was to give aning to their deaths; if the demonkin’s forr world was no longer within reach, then she’d honor it with a proper conclusion of their conflict.

Honor. Vengeance. Freedom. Or perhaps even fate.

They were all abstract ideals. Ideals that no one else deserved to die for.

“…There’s still every chance that our fears are unfounded. I’ll return ere long if nothing ails the city.”

Serenis opened the cabin door, revealing the glimring dawn skies. It was still fairly dark, and everyone else were sound asleep – but she had no ti to wait for sunrise, nor to say farewell to others.

If nothing had happened in Partivine, she’d simply return and search for a way to find the deity of death with others.

If Felicir was there, then she needed to destroy his divinity. And if other deities were also there, then theirs as well – just like how she should’ve, one thousand years ago.

“…”

Twelve more steps until she could rest.

And, more often than not, the first is always the most arduous.

✧ ✧ ✧

‘…Where am I going?’

As Gio’s legs began to carry him out into the courtyard, he found himself unable to look behind the road he walked. His body was still moving of its own accord, unbound by its owner’s will.

Perhaps it was for the best that he could no longer turn his head. Even the sight of his cane’s bloodstained tip was driving the archmage towards insanity.

He rely continued walking forward towards the exit, trampling over nurous corpses sprawled across the courtyard. Students that happened to be outside upon the deity’s arrival, security that had rushed to control the situation…and even enforcent sector’s agents that had co to help.

No one had survived. And unlike everyone Gio had killed, their bodies were clean, their expressions peaceful; it was a stark contrast between the fearful, bloodstained students he’d left behind in the building. Even though neither were alive, the Reaper’s work almost seed humane compared to his own.

And just up ahead was the very sa deity, waiting for his arrival. Felicir welcod the archmage with a proud smile.

“Impressive, headmaster. I thought at least one other person would be able to stop you.”

“…”

“Hmm…”

The deity of death took a brief mont, scanning the archmage and the destruction he’d left behind.

Overwhelming amounts of death reeked from the archmage, as well as the entire facility. Several buildings had partially collapsed, so in entirety. Stains of blood could be seen in nurous windows, and an eerie silence filled the area.

Satisfied, Felicir put a hand on Gio’s shoulder.

“Seems we’re done here. I did take the liberty of killing any escapees, so you need not worry.”

“…”

“Now…do you think you’ve atoned for your sins yet, headmaster?”

“…”

“…Oh, that’s right. I forgot to allow you to speak.”

A dark glint brushed past Gio’s figure as the archmage felt a small bit of his body returning to his control. He still couldn’t move, but he found himself at least able to speak.

However, he no longer needed to question who the winged figure standing before him was.

He no longer needed to tell anyone to run away. Even if he had been able to before, they wouldn’t have made it far anyhow.

The Reaper himself had condemned them to death; even a child knew that struggling was futile under such circumstances.

It no longer mattered if it was fair or just. It probably didn’t even matter if the winged figure was truly as divine as people made him out to be – for mankind firmly believed that the Twelve’s will had always been for the greater good, that their actions were just without question.

But after delivering a deity’s judgnt himself, all Gio could think of was escaping this nightmarish reality.

“Kill .”

“You wish to die? So soon?”

“…Please.”

“Hmm…”

While Felicir contemplated on the archmage’s request, Clyus grimaced at Gio’s lifeless eyes. He was alive, but he may as well not be.

And that alone was a reason enough for the deity of death to deny his request.

“No, no…this isn’t how your tale ends, headmaster. You’re capable of so much more, are you not? It would be a sha to not honor you with another divine quest.”

The Reaper then pointed towards the institute’s gates, just a few steps away. The city of Partivine stretched outside as far as the eye could see.

“I’ve already sent one, but it probably won’t be enough, will it? It’s a rather big city, after all. Why don’t you go help him out?”

Even though Felicir didn’t specify what this ‘help’ was, Gio could clearly tell what the deity ant from their unnerving grin.

“…No…please, no more-“

“Ah. Right, that wasn’t a quest. That was an order.”

Gio’s lips imdiately sealed back. His legs once again began to carry him forward, outside the institute’s paraters. He could faintly hear the crumbling noise of buildings and towers up ahead.

And mixed in their midst were unmistakable screams of Partivine’s civilians.

✧ ✧ ✧

Magic was a divine gift.

It is said that, during the dawn of ti, mankind struggled to survive against the nurous threats they faced. With ager stones and clubs, they could not fend off the beasts and monsters that plagued their hos.

And so, a deity had descended into their realm. She’d gifted mankind with knowledge on how to use the essence that filled their world. The essence would later co to be known as mana, her gift as magic.

It was a tool for survival.

However, like many other tools at their disposal, mankind had found a way to turn their divine gift into a vicious weapon. Magic had beco a staple tool for murder and war.

‘…Perhaps all of this is divine judgnt. For misusing the gifts we were bestowed.’

Every ti Ray swung his arm, another headless civilian collapsed onto the floor, their necks sliced open by an invisible blade of wind. Those who fled were rooted in place by coiling vines rising from beneath their feet. Adults and children alike helplessly stood in place, waiting for another blade of air to end their lives.

The enforcer’s vision began to blur. The murky red liquids filling the streets were drowning his vision, and his veins darkening from mana depletion were becoming more and more visible.

But even so, the enforcer could not stop himself from moving forward. He rely wished that the next throb of his heart would finally kill him, again and again.

‘…Any mont now. Any mont.’

Iris would appear with the rest of the sector to stop him. Their most accomplished enforcer would put an end to this madness, and apprehend the terrorists without breaking a sweat. It was just taking a while because she was preparing the plan so thoroughly; any mont now, and Ray’s worries would be proven pointless.

In Ray’s mind, no other explanation existed as to why she was still nowhere to be seen. This had to be the case. It had to be.

It wasn’t, but it had to be.