HPDBC Chapter 77 Farewell (3)
Chapter 77 Farewell (3)
Chapter 77 Farewell (3)
NOTE: 1 and 2 is on chapter 2 and 3
The dark mage did not bother with further exposition. Without a word, she simply moved the ghouls forward, responding to Damian.
Legions of ghouls and wraiths slowly shifted, tightening their encirclement.
Facing numbers akin to an army alone, Damian did not backpedal. Instead, he advanced.
As Damian approached the dark mage, the ghouls lunged en masse. Thanks to the griffin potion, perhaps, their skin was thick and obscene black veins were noticeably bulging.
They rushed at Damian with terrifying speed, but in just a handful of broadsword swings, he slaughtered about a dozen and immediately sent a blade arc soaring towards the dark mage.
She watched the arc approach without any attempt to dodge it.
Ghouls in the front lines then formed a flesh wall with their bodies, intercepting the blade arc. Shattered bones and flesh erupted skyward amid a loud cacophony.
The intact figure of the dark mage could be seen briefly between the falling ghoul parts like rain. But soon, as more ghouls swarmed like bees, she was no longer in Damians line of sight.
***
Majestic music played by the brass band filled the air.ÚpTodated novels on
Following a florid introduction, the award ceremony began, presenting medals and rings to the students with the highest achievements.
Then, the announcer on the platform called out the representative name for each department.
Iris, Cecil, Lilith, and Rupert. Representatives from each department made glorious entrances, stepping onto a shimmering golden carpet.
The sound of the audiences applause continued unabated.
Sion, who had not been called out until now, observed the audience from the back.
There were genuine congratulations and admiration. Mixed in were the envious and jealous stares from those who did not possess such talents. To those ascending the podium, even those sentiments would become fodder for their self-intoxication.
Then Sions name was called with the flattering title of Top Talent.
The audience slowly stood, focusing their attention on the carpet leading to the stage. Sion slowly rose from her seat and walked forth, met with a long stretch of applause.
Perhaps owing to her heavy label as the disciple of a Swordmaster, the audiences frivolous chants disappeared.
It was as if they were attending a coronation, genuinely expressing their admiration and respect for the greatest talent of the continent, adding substantial gravitas compared to previous awardees.
Upon reaching the podium, Sion felt confused.
She remembered clearly. She was not the greatest talent, and this place belonged to someone else. This applause should have been directed to that man.
Where was that man? Why had he turned his back on everything and disappeared?
Those questions constantly vexed her.
***
Hills of corpses and flayed flesh were forming. Damian stood atop the ghouls hed slain. No matter how many he cut down, an unending stream continued to assault him.
Then Damian groaned and staggered heavily. Something had deeply penetrated his thigh. A ghoul that he thought had been bisected and dead had attacked him with only its upper body.
Leaving the spine piercer embedded in his thigh, Damian sliced the head off that ghoul.
Haah, haah, haah.
Wounds were accumulating on his body. Soaked as if marinated in blood, his clothes were completely drenched and torn in various places, with blood streaming down from numerous large and small injuries all over him.
The wraiths had yet to join the fray. They were observing from above like vultures waiting to prey on carcasses.
***
The department representatives with the highest grades had received their rings and medals and descended from the stage.
Sion remained alone on the platform to conclude the ceremony. As informed in advance, someone came up to hand her a scroll.
It is a passage from the scriptures recited by the founding principal to the first dozen or so students at the inception of Eternia.
The reading ceremony, a custom over the centuries, had become an Eternia tradition.
Nowadays, the student who topped the overall rankings would relay a passage from the scriptures to the incoming class in place of an entrance oath.
Sion unfurled the scroll and scanned the prayer with her eyes, then took a quiet breath.
Unlike today, when the founding principal read that passage, the world was entirely shrouded in evil. The audience from another age wouldnt relate to this message.
How many truly grasp and accept the meaning of these verses? To them, it would be no more than a tedious doctrine.
The hall was silent, without even a cough, all waiting for her reading.
Sion looked around briefly at the silent audience before parting her lips to begin.
If you truly seek the will of the gods, do not be intoxicated with fame and honor. They will only blind you. Do not chase after gold and silver. They will only corrupt your soul and weigh down your body.
As soon as Iris descended from the podium, she went straight to where her family was waiting. Since the ceremony had not yet ended, her family celebrated silently without making a fuss, embracing Iris.
A man then approached Iris and bowed before her. The man dressed in the empires attire presented an invitation emblazoned with the imperial seal. Surprised by this unexpected treat, Iris covered her mouth with both hands.
Do not seek the will of the gods in scriptures and laws. Just as the light of stars cannot be contained in parchment, the will of the gods is not found within texts. If you earnestly seek the will of the gods, forge your path.
Haah, haah.
Damian rose again. The dark mages black robe lay sprawled at his feet, but her body had vanished without a trace.
The wraiths were not in sight either.
The robe was soaked in blood, but it was unclear whether it was Damians blood or the dark mages.
Whether the end had come or enemies remained was uncertain. He could fight no more.
He stood firmly on two legs, but his body was so damaged that being alive felt almost miraculous.
The slender thread of Damians consciousness clung on barely.
It felt dreamlike.
Could all this be a terrible nightmare, as if he were floundering within the unconscious realm?
Damian took out his compass. The glass on the compasss face was soaking in blood.
He wiped the glass with his thumb, but it was quickly covered by fresh droplets of blood, obscuring the needle once more.
Eventually, he dropped the compass and raised his gaze to the sky once more. The dense fog made the path ahead indistinct, preventing him from seeing the way he had come.
Turning his back on the field of corpses, he walked on.
After a while, it struck him that a maze impenetrable, with every step unseen just a hands width away, was much like his life.
The rational cries that without a compass, he would only circle endlessly within the maze, were long gone. He knew not where he was heading, driven only by a subconscious desire to exit this place.
That was the only thing Damian could do.
Fuzzy memories of his childhood flickered by. Times of poverty and frailty, yet happiness. And now, memories tarnished by wounds that could no more be joyfully reminisced.
The nightmare slowly faded, and as if sinking into deep sleep, his vision grew darker.
And, towards the end of this dream, only one person came to mind.
Teacher
He yearned for warmth. Memories of Silveryn, the one person who truly gave him warmth, flitted by. If only he could have a picnic by the lake in Wiesel with her again, it would be most delightful.
Unconsciously, he slipped his hand into his chest and retrieved the Stitch. He lifted it into the air, and the Stitch spread its wings and soared.
Ah
And Damian belatedly reached out to grab the Stitch. However, the Stitch was already long gone.
No
Within the maze, without its orientation function, Stitch would not be able to exit, but in his forgetfulness, Damian flailed his hand in desperation.
No The teacher, the teacher
His body became increasingly rigid.
She mustnt find out
Damian lost consciousness and collapsed onto the ground.
And the remnants of the ghouls that had picked up his scent, along with a dark shadow, lurked in the mist, tracing his steps.
***
The mist in the labyrinth was slowly retracting around Damian.
The air suddenly turned frosty as the mist condensed, turning into pristine white snow that covered the maze.
The ghouls circling his flesh, their feet crunching harshly, became stark white with frost. The ghouls shook violently out of instinct, but their legs remained irremovably attached to the ground.
The white frost climbed from their legs, engulfing their entire bodies before ultimately freezing everything solid.
And from the opposite direction came a girl with silver hair. She, too, appeared to have been in a fierce battle, her white garments stained with blood.
With a gesture from her, the frozen ghouls cracked and then disintegrated into ice powder, swept away by the wind.
And the dark shadow hidden in the mist fled upon sighting the girl.
Ignorant of everything, the girl approached him.
When she saw Damian lying in the center of the maze, her heart ached as if it had been punctured by thorns.
Her arms trembled, her stomach seethed with emotion like a raging flame.
It had been a long wait.
The girl sat beside Damian, adjusted his body to face upward, and caressed his cheek. She looked down at him with unfocused eyes and whispered.
Hello.
It was the long-awaited reunion, but Damian did not embrace her as always, nor did he sweetly whisper his love.
Instead, he was dying in front of Liza, just as she had seen in the prophecy so long ago.
This was the curse bestowed upon Liza.