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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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Chapter 303
Euphemia, having ordered the Mother Ghost to stay behind, was inspecting the hull of the Avalon.
This was humanity’s ultimate weapon, marking the culmination of her tireless efforts over the past decades.
Even the Emperor needed time to fully immerse herself in the moment's sentiment.
‘...It’s soon.’
She stood on the brink of a moment that would either see the fulfillment of everyone’s long-held dreams or their fading away.
Realizing this, even Euphemia, who had always been a composed and confident ruler before her subjects, couldn’t help but confront her suppressed tension and fear.
It felt like experiencing a flash of her life beforehand.
Memories from when she was a young princess, far removed from the throne, to now, kept surfacing and subsiding in a disjointed manner.
At some point, as she was lost in these thoughts,
Thunk!
For the first time in her life, her head, which had never permitted any projectile to strike, was lightly jolted by an impact.
Turning her head, she saw a young man with an oily expression hurriedly approaching.
“Ah, I’m so sorry! If I had known such a beautiful person was here...”
...
The following five minutes unfolded like this.
Gerald was prostrated in shock, and Euphemia had helped him up.
“How dare a lowly subject mar the royal body of Your Majesty... I deserve to die a thousand, no, ten thousand times over... Please, just once...”
Realizing that the Emperor’s expression was far from wrathful, Gerald cautiously lifted his head.
“Such magnanimous grace!!”
“Quiet, Gerald Bryce.”
“Y-yes.”
Euphemia was not the kind of tyrant who would punish Gerald for such a minor mistake, especially given his long-standing loyalty as the heir to the Bryce family, a member of the Death Squad, and her disciple.
In fact, she felt rather refreshed.
For some reason, it reminded her of her days as a student at Rosenstark, where unreserved peers, led by Ted surrounded her.
With a determined step, Euphemia resumed walking down the corridor.
Gerald hurriedly followed a few steps behind, responding to her silent command to follow.
“What were you thinking about so deeply that you didn’t notice a person, let alone recognize it was your Emperor?”
“Uh...”
“If you don’t tell me honestly, I’ll have no choice but to inform your superior that you’ve been slacking off during training.”
“Eek!”
In truth, Euphemia was curious about other people’s thoughts, especially on the eve of the decisive battle.
What concerns did they harbor?
It was a small curiosity of hers.
“Actually...”
Stammering, Gerald began to share his story.
He spoke of Roland Bryce, his ailing father, his worries about the upcoming battle, and his restless wandering.
“I see.”
“...”
“...”
Silence often felt more uncomfortable for subordinates.
Desperate to fill it, Gerald hastily brought up a new topic.
“Y-Your Majesty’s father. What kind of person was the late Emperor?”
...He regretted asking as soon as he did.
Euphemia chuckled.
“You probably have a general idea about what he was like.”
“Well, that’s...”
The Emperor sighed softly and murmured,
“As is known, he was an incompetent tyrant... and a cruel husband.”
Gerald felt like biting his tongue and buried his head.
“But he was a good father.”
Thunk.
The Emperor halted.
Her expression, reminiscent of the distant past, was not overly dark.
Feeling as if he had grabbed a lifeline just before falling, Gerald continued,
“So, he was a good father.”
“To me, at least.”
The late Emperor had five children: two princes, including Euphemia, with his main wife, and one princess and one prince with his concubine.
Amid the inevitable fierce power struggles, he wanted to protect his beloved youngest daughter.
“That’s why he sent me to Rosenstark.”
It was around when her brothers began to fight for power, leveraging their maternal families.
No one paid attention to the harmless, young princess.
Some brothers even promised her a peaceful life if she stayed out of their way.
“But I couldn’t live like that.”
“Why not?”
Having forgotten his earlier fear, Gerald was now listening with bright eyes.
Despite his stern face, it was quite endearing.
The Emperor smirked and continued her story.
“Because if one of them had taken the throne, Ted’s wish would never have been fulfilled.”
Her brothers resembled the late Emperor to an astonishing degree: dull, incompetent, and indifferent to humanity’s salvation, destined to become future tyrants.
“And historically, such tyrants hated ‘heroes.’”
They would have trampled Ted Redymer the moment he began to stand out.
“That’s why I decided to become the emperor.”
Rosenstark, which the late Emperor thought of as a sanctuary, was the perfect place to gather talent.
Euphemia secretly gathered her supporters there.
Young nobles discontented with the corrupt imperial family, capable commoners...those dreaming of rebellion.
They were deeply captivated by the charismatic, ruthless, and strong princess.
Thus, she meticulously prepared for a “coup.”
“By the time I graduated, I struck my eldest brother, who had won the power struggle, and his faction, led by my uncle.”
Blood flowed like rivers, and the imperial palace burned and collapsed.
That’s how Euphemia ascended the throne.
Gerald swallowed hard.
He knew well what happened afterwards.
The bloody purge.
Those who had sucked the lifeblood of the empire regurgitated it.
The power structure, which collapsed in an instant, was rebuilt under the new order Euphemia advocated.
This was the basis for the Emperor's current absolute power.
“Thanks to that, I could support Ted without limits.”
As the story concluded, Gerald was deeply impressed.
“Your Majesty became the emperor to fulfill the dream of the former hero.”
“…That’s one way to interpret it. Why—”
The Emperor smiled pleasantly.
“Is that not acceptable?”
Thinking about it, Euphemia realized she might have wanted to tell her story to someone rather than listen to Gerald’s.
Gerald, staring blankly at her face, quickly turned his head.
“It sounds like an incredible love story.”
“Love? Hahaha...”
The Emperor laughed out loud, looking at Gerald.
Despite his weathered face, she was reminded that he was still a child.
“In this era, an emperor cannot love an individual.”
“Ah...”
“But I can say I loved the ideals he showed.”
Euphemia squinted and looked down the corridor.
The Mother Ghost was quietly approaching.
It seemed there were more matters to handle.
Thus, this pleasant conversation had to come to an end.
The Emperor's gaze fell on Gerald, who was deep in thought.
“…And now, those ideals rest on your professor’s shoulders.”
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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Thunk—
The Emperor’s hand patted Gerald’s head.
“So make sure to fulfill my love, Gerald of the Bryce.”
Thud—
Gerald watched the departing Emperor with a blank expression.
It was the end of his 233rd unrequited love.
* * *
At 9 PM, when all the activities of the Avalon’s passengers had ended, the children gathered in the lounge in the living area to chat.
It was a nostalgic scene reminiscent of the freshman dormitory lounge.
“Really, the Emperor told you that? Gerald, she said she believes in you and asked you to fight hard for the hero’s ideals!”
“Hmm, aren’t you making it up?”
“No, I’m not!”
“What’s so special about you that the Emperor would share personal stories and tell you such things? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Ugh!”
Gerald lost his temper and yelled at Cuculli’s logical rebuttal.
“See? He just gets mad when his lie is exposed.”
...Of course, they all knew Gerald was telling the truth.
They just found his reaction amusing.
At that moment,
“Oh, Ban. What took you so long?”
They looked curiously at Ban, who had just returned to the lounge.
Despite the cool interior, he was sweating profusely.
Collapsing onto the sofa, Ban mumbled,
“...Training.”
Cuculli dropped a large ice chunk on him.
“What?”
“Special training.”
“Huh? With whom?”
“With Zion.”
The unexpected combination made the children’s eyes widen.
“What kind of special training?”
At Gerald’s question, Ban recalled the torturous hours earlier.
“Chess fencing.”
Zion had suddenly taken out a chessboard and explained the bizarre rules of “chess fencing.”
The rules were as follows:
Each turn was 3 minutes.
During the opponent’s turn, one sword strike could be made.
“Since you have the qualities of a magic swordsman, I’ve heard you’ve been training magic intensively. Chess fencing is great for quickly developing the multitasking ability essential for a magic swordsman.”
“...What?”
“Moreover, it will be beneficial in this operation, where we must fight against overwhelming numerical superiority.”
Ban had to focus on the game while dealing with the unpredictable sword strikes of the Sword Saint.
The sword strikes were challenging to handle even in a perfect state.
Moreover, Zion showed no mercy, as if Ban were a demon, so he couldn’t afford to be careless.
The result of the chess game was 3 wins and 22 losses.
Ban felt like his brain had melted.
“Hmm, you just need to focus on defense and play chess roughly. It’s not like anything is at stake.”
“......”
Ban remained silent at Gerald’s question.
“You like Leciel, right?”
“......”
“It seems my dull granddaughter hasn’t realized that yet. If you don’t win even once, she might find out. Hoho.”
Who would’ve thought the Sword Saint would resort to such a petty threat?
Ban shuddered as he recalled her personality, which differed entirely from Leciel’s despite their similar appearances.
Would Leciel become like that when she got older?
...Maybe it would be a bit cute.
“You were gasping for breath, and now you’re smiling. Why?”
Gerald shook his head.
Starting with Ban, the other children began to gather.
Their only pleasure was chatting in the lounge for about an hour after gruelling training.
Leciel, Evergreen, and Karen, who had been learning alchemy, joined in, and Nyhill was already dozing off in a corner.
“But where’s Luke?”
“Right. He’s not here. That’s strange.”
“Maybe he went in early? I saw him getting a pretty intense scolding from Larze earlier.”
“No way. Not with Evergreen here.”
Usually, Luke would cling to Evergreen, lamenting the time apart due to training, but this was unusual.
However, the mystery didn’t last long.
Creak—
The lounge door opened, and Luke walked in.
“......?”
But the children were even more puzzled when they saw him.
He was precariously carrying a mountain of papers.
Thunk—
Moreover, the stack of papers placed among them was blank.
The children, thinking they might be some kind of notice, tilted their heads even more.
“…What’s this?”
Before answering, Luke began distributing pens to the children, acting unusually polite and careful for his usually rough demeanor.
“Ah.”
…By then, the children had a good idea of the purpose of the papers and fell silent.
“Yeah, it’s time to write.”
Not many immediately picked up their pens.
They quietly exchanged glances and stared at the papers for a long time before finally picking up their pens.
Aside from the current passengers, no one knew they were on the Avalon.
Not even their closest family and friends.
They probably didn’t even know that humanity was on the brink of extinction with the impending arrival of the Demon King.
If things went wrong, these letters would be delivered to them.
Therefore, these letters would convey their last words to their loved ones, who would face sudden loss and despair.
Scratch—
Pens moved, aiming to fully encapsulate their existence, love, and responsibility in their wills.
* * *
Time flew by, and the departure day of the Avalon was imminent.
However, there was an operation team that needed to move ahead of them.
“General.”
In the heavy atmosphere of the communication room, the Emperor, dressed in formal attire, stared intently at the flickering communication orb.
On the other end was a veteran general who had devoted his life to the imperial family and humanity, kneeling and awaiting her command.
He was the grand general leading the hundreds of thousands of troops gathered near the great mountain range.
He had sworn to charge into battle despite knowing their role was merely to buy time.
Euphemia spoke.
“March forth. Fight bravely and lighten our burden.”
“I will lay down my life to carry out your command.”
It was the moment the final act of the Great War of Humans and Demons began.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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