Being Tamed by Someone

The flower garden where the grave was placed.

In this place that seemed as if the space itself had been transported, Titan was adjusting the balance between mana and spirit power under the guidance of the Saintess of Earth, Nina.

“I hated my father.”

While sitting cross-legged, gradually connecting the sources of mana and spirit magic in his body through Jormungandr’s poison,

He suddenly blurted out.

“I know what I did. How foolish I was.”

Titan was clearly a sinner.

The perpetrator of a tragedy brought about by ignorance. Yet the reason he hated his father, Craig, was simple.

“Father never scolded me. He never blamed me.”

“He shouldn’t say such things to a young child. He may be foolish, but he knows how to distinguish things.”

“But he was a weak person.”

Craig said nothing. He didn’t embrace the wailing Titan, nor did he shed tears for his coldly deceased wife.

Like a doll, coldly.

He merely observed the end that Titan and Rosaria had met.

“After I pushed myself too hard that time, I was bedridden for three days and nights.”

And when he opened his eyes and returned to the flower garden, his mother’s grave had already disappeared without a trace.

The flowers were all dug up with only mounds of dirt remaining, and the tombstone he had erected was gone. He felt hatred towards that.

It was obvious who had done it.

“I thought father had removed the crude grave I made.”

He didn’t think deeply about the reason.

He had never contemplated why his father would do such a thing.

There was only the result, and Craig didn’t deny it.

“But now I understand. Were you there too at that time?”

Rosaria was an elf.

If Craig had a reason to remove Rosaria’s grave, it would be because he wanted to send her to her beautiful homeland rather than let her rest in the barren environment of Malachite.

“Yes… I was on my way to the Malachite Kingdom to save Rosaria. But I was too late because of your ignorance.”

“That’s a painful point.”

“That’s why I disliked you. But I also understood.”

Titan and Nina shared their innermost thoughts and pain with each other.

Hearing Nina’s story, Titan once again cursed his own ignorance.

Listening to Titan’s pain, Nina recalled painful memories.

“Craig asked me to move this grave to the elven forest. Along with the flowers blooming around it. It was quite an unreasonable request.”

Craig sent Rosaria back to Alfheim.

He wanted to send his wife, who had followed him and suffered all her life, back to her homeland at least in the end.

But he wasn’t purely selfish.

The grave moved to Alfheim.

The crude tombstone and the bright flowers that had bloomed near the grave.

He moved all of it. He didn’t deny Titan’s feelings.

Titan could only realize this after arriving in Alfheim.

“Father never told me such things. Even when I directly asked about mother’s grave, he didn’t say anything.”

“He, too, was a person suffering from hurt and pain.”

“But he was a king. That’s why he did that. I think I understand now. Father acted that way because he was a king.”

It wasn’t just the two of them who loved Rosaria. The one who loved her more than anyone was Craig.

He must have been hurting more than anyone and hated Titan’s ignorance more than anyone.

But in the end, he never blamed Titan. Nor did he comfort him.

Though he was a parent, he was also the king of a nation, a person more accustomed to accepting hatred than comforting others with clumsy words.

“Father was in a position where he couldn’t show his sorrow. In our kingdom, being king also meant being the strongest.”

Rather than grieving together, he had to choose to receive hatred and still remain a strong warrior to lead the kingdom.

That’s why Craig didn’t say anything. He couldn’t.

Fearing that whatever words he spoke would reveal his weakness.

Fearing he might shed the tears he was holding back.

“I was a damn unfilial son.”

Craig loved his family more than anyone else in this world.

Only he couldn’t express it.

After all, he had to be the strongest warrior of the Malachite Kingdom. His body and mind had to be surrounded by steel.

*     *      *

I’ve been thinking about all sorts of variables and planning accordingly.

But no matter how much I consider, I couldn’t possibly have anticipated that something would continue moving even after its head was cut off.

A moment of carelessness.

No, it’s honestly too harsh to call it carelessness.

Anyway, that’s what caused it.

Just as the tension eased after beheading the creature, it rose up again.

The monster we had worked so hard to drag down flew back up to its domain, establishing a biting wind zone.

That’s why I was slow to grasp the situation.

As I watched the cold wind flying towards me, I tried to raise my right arm to block it, but.

“Ah…”

I had already lost my arm.

Due to the sudden situation, I tried to choose the most familiar method.

I failed to check my own condition.

Cold wind rides on the biting wind.

Despite twisting my body, Hraesvelgr’s cold wind tears me from shoulder to waist.

“Kuk!”

Should I call this fortunate or unfortunate?

I didn’t die instantly. With such a wide and deep wound, I should have been gushing blood like a waterfall, but my body didn’t.

“It has… no reason…”

Cold wind was mixed with biting wind.

An attack that cuts the opponent and makes them bleed, combined with an ability that freezes the opponent’s body and dulls their senses.

Neither can be taken lightly, but mixing the two powers is worse than not doing it at all.

The cold wind easily tore my body, but the following biting wind froze my blood and flesh, preserving them so they wouldn’t burst out.

Hraesvelgr couldn’t possibly not know this. In fact, since its head flew off, it makes sense that it can’t think.

“Hup!”

This allowed me to not delay emergency treatment. I slowly thawed the frozen blood and flesh while sealing the external wound with holy magic.

An extremely dangerous action to take with an enemy right in front of me.

But if I don’t do this, I’ll die.

“Don’t worry, Lost.”

“…”

Did she accurately read my situation? Línea boldly stood in front of me, blocking the way.

For a moment, the thought ‘Why her?’ crossed my mind.

Claire is the vanguard of our group.

She’s perfect for protecting and guarding.

“Where’s Claire…?”

“Hmm, the situation isn’t great, is it?”

Only then did I notice that Claire was being held in Hraesvelgr’s front paw, pointed out by Línea.

Claire should be fine if she’s wearing Vitege’s Armor.

Hraesvelgr’s attacks come from its powers through the wind, not from extraordinary physical abilities.

Yes, Claire is fine.

She’s just ‘still’ immobilized.

“Lost.”

“Wait, Línea… I need to come up with a strategy for this situation…”

“You know there’s no time for that, right? Right now, protecting you and rescuing Claire… only I can do it.”

“…”

Línea’s words weren’t wrong.

In the current situation, she’s the only one who can move.

Even if we wanted to retreat, we couldn’t leave Claire behind.

Although she’s holding on now, Vitege’s Armor has its limits.

Moreover, if Hraesvelgr simply soars high and drops her to the ground, Claire inside the armor would be pulverized.

Our only chance is now.

Only now, when the headless Hraesvelgr is just beginning to rise into the air.

But that chance is incredibly precarious and unstable.

“I’ll… ask you.”

One-on-one against a trial.

It’s impossible for Línea, no matter how talented she is.

Even before winning, just enduring would be difficult. And now she has to protect me, who has become a burden, while simultaneously rescuing Claire?

This is virtually impossible.

There’s a 99% chance of failure.

But there’s that 1%.

“But if it gets dangerous, you must come back.”

“I will.”

As long as that 1% exists, we cannot leave Claire as she is.

It’s the role of a priest to pray that she can break through that 1%.

But I don’t want to see Línea crossing that dangerous bridge either.

That’s why I told her to come back if it gets dangerous. Even though I know she won’t listen.

Swoosh!

Línea has an innate talent for combat. A talent that surpasses even Titan, who was born with a sturdy physique – sensitivity and technique.

That’s why ‘learning’ was a simple matter for Línea.

In just a few days, Línea was able to absorb all the techniques taught by Shade, reaching a point where she could use any means necessary in combat.

Holding two daggers, scattering steel threads in the air, even using scalpels, syringes, and scissors as weapons.

She could create footholds even where there were none, allowing her to leap through the air.

Weapons wrapped in aura threaten Hraesvelgr and draw its attention, while she secretly tries to rescue Claire with steel threads tied around its ankle.

It’s an impressive ability. Certainly, but.

“Ah…”

In front of the trial called Hraesvelgr, it’s like a candle in the wind.

Just once.

With just one flap of Hraesvelgr’s wings, the domain Línea had established was crushed, and her body, which had been leaping through the air, was caught.

It was too strong to hope for luck.

Imagining the disaster about to unfold, I was already moving.

Even though the wound I had barely managed to stop and heal burst open, I couldn’t stop. Reason had already vanished, and I was simply running to protect her.

And.

“Damn it!”

Hraesvelgr’s cold wind flies towards me as well.

Power that threatens Línea’s life while simultaneously able to kill me.

Attacks that seem randomly scattered, but each one is a deadly wind capable of inflicting fatal wounds.

I fought the incomplete Pinocchio and even the successor of Eremus.

So I thought we could do it.

I thought we could subdue a trial that only accounts for 1/3 with our current strength.

No, we could have.

The current situation happened because we proceeded with the plan without Titan.

Because we forced an unfavorable battle, not wanting to miss the current opportunity.

If someone has to take responsibility, if someone has to die.

“…It should be me.”

I abandon all defense of my body.

I stop thinking about the aftermath.

Now I focus solely on saving Línea, who was placed in mortal danger by participating in my reckless plan.

Defensive holy magic.

Heimdall’s White Shadow and Minerva’s divine shield.

I deploy all of them to protect one person.

“How…”

But at that moment, a voice that shouldn’t be heard brushed past my ear.

A variable that didn’t exist in the plan.

An incomprehensible presence I thought had already left.

“Disappointing.”

With that voice, that word which he had used when subduing me earlier.

Slash!

A slash that came flying from far outside the <Wind’s Tomb> domain severed one of Hraesvelgr’s wings.

*     *      *

One of Belial’s Seven Blades.

The Blade of Chaos, ‘Onett’, who hid among the crowds pulling strings, was monitoring Lost and his group.

When they entered the domain of the <Wind’s Tomb>, there was nothing he could do, but he knew which way they would come out.

Onett’s purpose was merely to monitor and report. Therefore, there was no need for adventure, and simply observing the situation from afar was sufficient.

He had an exceptional ability for gathering information.

Therefore, he thought there was nothing he couldn’t detect within this domain. Observing and judging all situations to compile perfect information.

The strategist of the battlefield, Onett’s specialty.

“What is this…”

However, Onett doubted his eyes at the phenomenon unfolding now.

It was surprising that all three trials, including Hraesvelgr, were moving even though they were dead, but it was possible.

After all, they are trials. Beings with rules far beyond comprehension.

Therefore, what he couldn’t understand wasn’t their immortality, but the slash that dropped Hraesvelgr’s wing.

A force that seemed to cut through space itself, slicing through the blizzard and stopping precisely after cutting off the wing.

The direction from which that slash originated was.

“…”

Exactly behind him.

Onett lowered his head, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t turn around.

He hadn’t even detected, let alone sensed, when such a slash had come flying.

There was no sign of gathering strength, not even a hint of taking a stance.

The opponent behind him had simply drawn his sword naturally and swung it, dropping a monster considered a trial.

“Those born from human despair and negative emotions are called demons. They plunge humans into despair to covet their emotions.”

Onett tightly closed his eyes.

He felt a chilling blade tickling his nape.

“Then what would you call a being that plunges such demons into despair?”

The demon of demons.

A tyrant regarded as the king.

“I apologize. I’m originally a demon who enjoys ruining grand pictures others draw.”

Hadard grinned.

That expression was truly demonic.

He who had consistently maintained an emotionless appearance and remained silent was now fully expressing his emotions for the first time.

Onett felt like committing suicide right then and there.

That’s how desperately he wanted to escape from the presence behind him.

An absolute presence that could break the will to live even for someone who had sold his soul and become a demon out of fear of death.

-You’re still the same as always.

And suddenly, Onett’s consciousness seemed to snap, and a thick darkness took its place.

Belial, the demon of this world who had been watching the situation through Onett’s eyes.

He greeted Hadard in an extremely calm tone.

-Back then, I was afraid even to face you, but seeing you like this now, I’m even glad to meet you.

“Belial. Demon who fled the battlefield, your despair was truly sweet. Yes, but now it seems I won’t be able to taste that despair. Does a mere mortal seek to devour the world?”

-It’s a dream I can dream because I’m a mortal. Will you interfere with my dream?

“No! I have absolutely no interest in your dream. I do not draw pictures. I don’t even hold the world in my eyes. What I hold in my eyes is just one being that catches my attention.”

He has no interest in world peace or destruction. He doesn’t turn his gaze towards anyone’s great plans or lofty ambitions.

He, considered even the king of demons, paradoxically had a truly human way of thinking.

Yes, only what catches his eye.

He lives for that.

“I’m merely here to deliver a message. Belial.”

-Oh, what message?

“I’ll be returning soon. Tell that to the one before your eyes.”

-As expected of the Demon King, I can’t underestimate you. You say you don’t look at the grand picture and don’t hold the world in your eyes? But even your eyes can see it.

He can do so.

He simply chooses not to.

Hadard is a being who can be honest only to his own desires.

Therefore, he can be the purest and most primitive evil.

Seeing this, Belial felt a chill but couldn’t hide his smile.

Yes, he knows everything.

-I’ll relay that to Revenna.

The true purpose that Revenna had hidden.