SOTBW - 173

Belshua stood atop the cathedral’s bell tower, looking down at the fortress. It was still before dawn, and the city was quiet.

Many people were guarding the fields, but after Maximón and Najane had fallen, the attacks had ceased. The people carefully whispered about the two, no longer boasting like before; all they said was that they had collapsed while fighting the Eucharist.

Strange rumors that would have spread in the past didn’t appear, which meant that the people were desperately hiding their deep fear.

The inhabitants of the fortress were genuinely worried about what had happened to Maximón, and they refrained from making unnecessary guesses. The more they spoke, the more bad rumors would spread, and that would only increase the anxiety of the people living here.

Since Najane had fallen, Belshua had continued searching for Kieron. Taking care of Najane was Maximón’s responsibility. Belshua had no right to worry about him. All the tragedies had, in fact, originated from Mahilen.

Standing next to the large bell, Belshua lowered his gaze, staring at the slowly brightening horizon.

Was Najane really okay?

He wasn’t sure about his condition, as he had been busy handling the knights in Maximón’s place. At one point, he had thought of making himself invisible to sneak a quick look at his face, but then decided it would be too perverted.

However, he had heard that two meals had been sent to their residence the previous day. That meant Najane’s condition had improved to some extent.

Even if it hadn’t, it didn’t matter. If something serious happened, Belshua could reveal his identity and heal Najane. He still had plenty of mana left. It had been saved up from the start, specifically for Najane.

Taking out the mana stone from his pocket, Belshua saw the mana inside gently flowing. He touched it as if caressing a child’s face.

As he watched the golden waves of mana, he felt a longing for Emaydis.

He should have forced himself to go see Najane… He should have checked if Najane’s complexion was good, if he was eating well, digesting properly, if he had any more pain, if Maximón wasn’t bothering him too much… He should have questioned every little thing.

Tightening his grip on the mana stone, Belshua lowered his head.

Once, after completing harsh training in Romsoa, he had unknowingly fallen asleep. In that dream, Emaydis had appeared.

Like the old days, Belshua had raised the young and fragile Emaydis into an adult, and from a distance, he watched as Emaydis fell in love with Sainth. In the dream, Belshua’s role had been nothing more than a protector, but he had felt happy for the first time in a long while. He had been carefree and happy.

In the dream, no misfortune had occurred, so Belshua could watch Emaydis peacefully. But the moment Emaydis’s bright face turned into Najane, covered in blood, Belshua woke up.

When he was by Najane’s side, he lost his composure. When he was far away, he lost his calm. When he had rescued Najane from being kidnapped, Belshua should have predicted that his emotions would become this chaotic.

With a long sigh, Belshua gazed at the mana stone in his hand.

If everything he did would lead to regret, and even doing nothing would bring regret, then perhaps…

At that moment, the loud ringing of a bell from the fortress walls broke his thoughts. It was the signal that the field battle had ended. The Seriths hadn’t attacked during the night, so everyone had likely enjoyed a peaceful night.

Belshua recalled the moment when Maximón had called him Mahilen. With his vaguely awakened senses, Maximón had driven the Seriths out of the Noctis Fortress. The reason the Seriths hadn’t moved and retreated from the field was because Sainth, not Maximón, had given the order.

And if those uncontrollable monsters had obeyed Sainth’ command...

Belshua, listening to the bell, looked down at the slowly emerging residents below before moving to a different position. In the blink of an eye, Belshua had moved and stood there as if he had been there the entire time, waiting for Amelia.

When the knights returned, the previously quiet order of knights became noisy.

The knights, returning to their quarters, saw Belshua standing in the training area and waved their arms enthusiastically.

“Hey, Belshua! You were off duty, did you rest well?”

Belshua lazily nodded at the knights, then spotted Amelia rushing down the stairs. Despite the fact that the Seriths hadn’t attacked, Amelia’s expression was much darker and more somber than usual.

After Najane collapsed, Amelia began to lash herself like a monk who had chosen a life of severe asceticism. Whether it was because of the guilt of not being able to prevent that day’s tragedy, or because she felt embarrassed about receiving Najane’s help during the battle, Amelia followed the harsh training every morning without complaint, as if punishing herself.

It wasn’t that Belshua hadn’t anticipated Amelia’s determination.

The soul of a person, no matter how many times they reincarnate or what kind of environment they are born into, generally does not change much in terms of disposition. (Unless the very root of their life is shaken, which might cause the soul’s inherent qualities to shift in order to survive.) A person who was kind in their past life is likely to remain so in their next incarnation.

Even the kindest and most virtuous person can have their character damaged if born into a troubled family, but when the surrounding environment changes positively, the soul’s inherent nature tends to shine through once again.

“Am I late? I ran as fast as I could as soon as the gates opened…”

Amelia dropped the helmet and shield she had been holding, placing her hands on her knees as she panted heavily. Belshua glanced at the heavy shield Amelia had been carrying before pointing to the training field with his finger.

“Run ten laps.”

“W-What, now?”

“Or would you rather run later?”

Amelia looked at Belshua’s hand pointing to the empty training field, gritted her teeth, and began running. It would be even harder to run without removing her armor.

Belshua watched Amelia, drenched in sweat despite the winter chill, before picking up the shield that had fallen to the ground. The engraving on the shield looked familiar.

A lemon tree, a dragon, and three people standing nearby. Among them, one person was holding a skull...

The heroes who had fought alongside Astrun had all turned to ash, leaving only Mackanon. In the aftermath, nations like Bastronia and Astien were born.

People once again started wars to claim land where the Seriths had briefly been. No matter how much they overturned the land where the Seriths had spun cocoons and made their nests, new sprouts would never grow.

About a century after Astrun’s death, war began again as people fought to claim fertile land. Humans, having lost their magic, now only used swords and shields to protect themselves and take others’ lives, just as they had in ancient times.

But simply wielding swords wasn’t enough, so they sought out sacred relics left by Aron, relying on their power. One such relic, the Shield of Villar, was desperately sought after by many nations, but even after years of searching, neither Mackanon nor the Holy Church had found it.

Even in the past, people had failed to find the relic. So, kings who sought to claim good land reinterpreted the legend of Astrun to suit their needs, engraving these designs on shields.

Leaders claimed that any shield with this design had the same power as the relic used by Villar, and surprisingly, this strategy worked well in boosting the morale of soldiers preparing for battle.

As Belshua set the shield down on the ground and crossed his arms, he watched Amelia running her second lap around the training field.

The relics made by Aron originally didn’t have any names. The sword became known as ‘Rakhshu’s Sword’ because it was wielded by Rakhshu, and Mackanon’s ring was called ‘Mackanon’s Ring’ simply because Mackanon had it.

However, the ‘Shield of Villar’ wasn’t named because Villar used it.

Aron ensured that relics would have a designated user so that evil people couldn’t use them recklessly, but with Villar’s shield, he intentionally left it unnamed.

More importantly, the relic wasn’t actually in the shape of a shield. Yet, it became known as the ‘Shield of Villar’ because the first person to use it was Villar, and the relic responded to his heart by taking the shape of a shield.

Though the story was passed down without knowing the full details, it became distorted over time. In the end, the Shield of Villar was Aron’s masterpiece and the only relic without a physical form.

Aron had hidden the relic in a place no one would expect, fearing it might be misused, so it could fulfill its purpose when the time came.

“Wait, Sir… I lost track of how many laps I’ve run…”

At that moment, Amelia, who had been running, stopped and looked panicked, like a child who had spilled milk. Belshua knew she was on her sixth lap but shrugged his shoulders with a face that pretended to know nothing.

“Well, then you’ll have to run again.”

“No, no, that’s not fair! I’ve run at least four laps! This is so unfair!”

“Is there a problem? Should we stop today’s training?”

Amelia, who had been grumbling, immediately clamped her mouth shut at Belshua’s words.

Amelia threw off her armor in frustration and cursed as she began running again.

“Just wait! Once I get as good with a sword as you, you’ll see! Then it’ll be for real!”

Belshua, watching Amelia with a scowl, suppressed a faint smile.

“Just wait, you reptilian bastard! No matter what happens, I’ll beat you, do you hear me? If I fail in this life, I’ll beat you in the next! And if I still can’t do it then, I’ll get you in the life after that! Hey! Are you listening to me, you damn bastard!”

Belshua, recalling the bitter days of his younger years when he was full of malice, chuckled softly as he watched Amelia. Amelia, as if determined to finish her ten laps, let out a cry of resolve and ran around the training field.