Let’s Block the Ruined Route in Advance Chapter 109

Terrorism in the northwestern provinces has shaken the empire.

 

The imperial family and the Shrine have taken the initiative to track down and collect the vials used in the attacks. Aire’s public appearances to ease the people’s anxiety were short-lived.

 

Two initial raids failed in areas where he was not present. Later, a coordinated attack by the Transcendents cleared the area, but the elderly Transcendent Tyrn went missing in the process.

 

“The horse is missing, most likely killed in the explosion.”

 

The Duke roughly wiped the blood from his sword and climbed back onto his horse. Derek was soon at his side.

 

“What is the damage to the manor?”

 

“Fortunately, the knights arrived in time to prevent any loss of life, but the ranch was burned to the ground and they lost most of their livestock.”

 

It was soon winter. Losing the ranch at a time when they needed to stockpile as much food as possible was a blow.

 

“Damn it.”

 

The Duke cursed under his breath as he reined in his horse. The days were short if he was going to solve the problems of his dukedom and join the raiding party. In an empire that worshiped power and called those who had attained it Transcendents, the duty of the Transcendents to slay demons took precedence.

 

‘How much longer can I hold out?’

 

The wind was chilly against his cheeks. Winter was approaching.

 

 

***

 

 

Felix sat by the window of Rosalia’s laboratory in the tower.

 

After his mission at the Roswin estate, he’d sneaked out of the special class to visit the tower.

 

He’d really wanted to put off coming to the tower, but he desperately needed its resources to research the black magic that was tied to his heart.

 

“I’ve had enough of the old woman’s ranting this morning.”

 

Felix would have been listening to a sermon masquerading as advice by now if Razavel hadn’t taken it upon herself to woo the raccoon into his clique.

 

“At least there was a harvest.”

 

As Felix talked with Razavel and Rosalia about the extermination, he realized that Urzar’s purpose was to resurrect Regia.

 

“I never thought it was really Regia that Mongma was talking about.”

 

Leaving the two deep in conversation, Felix went up to Rosalia’s lab and pondered.

 

“A spell that traps the magic of the dead in the heart is like a stake being driven into the ground to break the soul of the target.”

 

Like a sharp point trying to break down a huge stone, a soul cracked with the magic of the dead was relatively easy to break from the pain and shock.

 

‘Empty my soul, and what they get is an empty body. Did they intend to use me as a body for Urzar? No, not for that.’

 

The way Urzar and Mongma treated him was less like the loss of an expendable item and more like the anger of losing something they’ve really worked for.

 

‘When Regia’s spirit is called from the Netherworld, it will need a vessel to hold it. Most likely, he wanted me to be that vessel.’

 

But their plans must have been thwarted, for he had filled his heart with Eileen’s magic again. In that way, it all made sense.

 

But there was one more question that arose.

 

‘Why did it have to be me?’

 

He was a different gender than Regia, and he was far from a hero who primarily used divine powers. The only thing special about him was his innate magical talent, which allowed him to manipulate a vast amount of magic, which, to put it bluntly, was not all that rare in an empire that regularly produced transcendents.

 

‘Then why.’

 

Felix had read dozens of books and pored over ancient records, but no passage had ever answered his puzzlement. Frustrated, he was about to return to the Academy when he realized something.

 

“This painting!”

 

He had stumbled upon it in the hallway. It was the usual hero’s torch, often used as a decoration. But what was unique was the presence of a man standing beside her. The figure standing beside Regia was a man with soft, bronze-colored hair, his eyes glowing violet from beneath a straight forehead.

 

As they walked together to see Felix off, Razavel stopped suddenly and asked.

 

“What is it?”

 

“This painting. Do you recognize the man in the torch?”

 

Razabel’s gaze fell to the torch. She let out a small exclamation.

 

“Ah, children these days don’t know,” she said, “but a torch depicting a hero’s companion rarely comes out after the hero’s death.”

 

“…The hero’s companion?”

 

“Yes, I think his name is…”

 

That day, Felix changed his warp plan from the Academy to the neighborhood of Forss where the tragedy had occurred. The stench of mold and dust irritated his nostrils as he forced his way into the mansion, which had been completely sealed off since the massacre.

 

Felix shrugged it off and made his way to the head of the household’s chambers. He was looking for a genealogy.

 

“It must be in here. Ah, here it is.”

 

The thick family tree kicked up a cloud of dust and landed on the table.

 

He ran his fingers through it. Those who would become the Hero’s Companion were stripped of their origins to become the shadows of the most brilliant light, completely removed from the mundane world.

 

It was a grave enough implication that the First Name, as well as the genealogy of the main building, would have to be erased under the supervision of the Temple.

 

But it was clear that erasing the name would have left a gaping hole.

 

“Two hundred years ago.”

 

There was indeed a blank within Felix’s reach. He didn’t even have to look to see the name underneath. He was certain that the violet-eyed man in the torch, who looked eerily like him, was its owner.

 

“But what’s the point of having your companion’s blood in the flesh?”

 

The still-unresolved question caught him off guard.

 

 

***

 

 

“Regia!”

 

“Rosinia, walk on, or you’ll fall.”

 

A woman with rich silver hair tied high up in a bun caught the girl who rushed into her arms.

 

“Rosinia, you must preserve your dignity as a saint!”

 

“That’s enough. I’ll tie you up. You won’t run now, will you?”

 

Rosinia pouted her lips and looked at the old priestess who was emphasizing discipline, but soon buried her face in Regia’s chest. Chuckling to herself, Regia patted the child on the back and stepped inside.

 

“What else could our little saint be upset about?”

 

“They’re asking me to transcribe the scriptures three more times! I’ve only done it once, how can I do it three more times when it’s so boring?”

 

While the girl, who was still too small to be a saint who had mastered everything, sulked, Regia sat down on her legs and stroked the child’s hair in a loving manner.

 

“What must have happened before you were told to transcribe the scriptures three times?”

 

“Well, …I dipped the red ink in the central foutain, because I thought it would be prettier with color, but red was the only color I had left.”

 

As if on cue, Regia tapped the tip of the child’s nose.

 

“I’m not going to let you get away with that. You’ll have to learn to behave.”

 

“That’s not fair, Regia, you have a whole bottle of honey wine hidden in your cupboard!”

 

“…How did you know about that?”

 

Regia flinched and took the child off her lap, while Rosinia, her hands on her hips, laughed triumphantly. A voice came from behind them.

 

“I see you two are still getting along today.”

 

“Ah!”

 

Regia turned around to see who the voice was and smiled. She rushed over and hugged the violet-eyed man standing in the doorway.

 

“Are you feeling better now?”

 

“Yes. I’m sorry to have worried you.”

 

Rosinia couldn’t take her eyes off the two of them for long as they embraced in the light streaming in through the door.

 

‘They’re just like the princess and prince in the story!’

 

Nothing could keep them apart. That’s what the young Rosinia thought.

 

“Dear Regia…”

 

Waking up as an old woman from a nostalgic dream of her childhood, Rosinia wiped the tears from her eyes.

 

Not even death could separate two people who loved each other so deeply.

 

When her frail companion passed away not long after the demon slaying, Regia stopped purifying her battle-tainted body and chose death herself.

 

“Rosinia, don’t cry. I was only going to see him, and I was happy to protect him, you, our child, and all the people in the world.”

 

Together, little Rosinia and old Rosinia prayed that Regia would reach her companion’s arms safely.

 

“No one can disturb her rest.”

 

The insidious forces of darkness would eventually melt away in the face of the light, Rosinia believed.