Arc-7 Ch-44

The blue sky stretches on without end.

I love days like this the most—clear skies without a single cloud anywhere—but days when clouds drift along with the wind, endlessly changing their shapes, are just as hard to let go of.

Living on a floating island, there are times when clouds crash into one another and everything turns into a dense fog where you can’t see what lies ahead at all. Moments like those make my heart race with excitement.

But I hate rainy days. Because that brilliantly shining sun vanishes from sight.

No matter how hard I tried with my hopelessly average mind, I couldn’t remember when exactly I’d started longing for it. My appearance may resemble Mother’s, yet what’s inside me feels so lacking.

Maybe it was right after I was born, or maybe it came from one of the picture books Mother used to read to me when I was little.

Come to think of it, I wonder where that picture book ended up?

Despite my fickle nature, it was one I read again and again, until the edges frayed and the pages became worn and tattered from my dirty little hands.

The story was a fairy tale about a small bird that fell in love with the sun.

That little bird desperately wanted to get even a little closer to the sun, and so it kept flying through the sky with all its strength.

Its wings grew ragged, its throat dried out, its eyes were blinded by the light—yet even so, the little bird never stopped flying.

In the end, it flew too close, its body was scorched by the sun’s heat, and it came crashing down to the ground.

Even then, the little bird died with a blissful smile on its face. That was the story.

As I recall, Lionel absolutely hated that picture book.

He’d gotten angry, saying there was far too little salvation for the little bird.

Why had the bird fallen in love with the sun? Did the sun even have a will of its own? What was the bird supposed to have done instead? He kept complaining that he couldn’t understand what lesson the story was meant to teach.

Mother had looked rather troubled by those questions from her son, who had been born on the very same day as me.

This is exactly why I dislike clever people. They always try to assign meaning to everything and want to figure out the “correct” way to act.

They can’t just go with the flow and enjoy things as they are; they’re stiff and overly proper. And that goes double when it’s my twin brother.

I never thought the little bird was unfortunate at all.

Of course, I hate the idea of dying, and I want to avoid pain and suffering as much as anyone else—that’s only natural.

But if you live exactly as your heart desires, burn yourself out without ever reaching your goal, and can still accept the outcome… is that really such an unhappy ending?

Well, to my brother—raised as the heir—a little bird that died without leaving anything behind probably just looked pitiful, something that needed to be protected.

To someone as earnest and well-behaved as him, it must’ve seemed like the bird had recklessly charged ahead without thinking, ignoring all the warnings from those around it, only to meet its end. And since most people in the world feel the same way, I’ve got no intention of denying that.

The world stays peaceful because so many people choose to live that steady, cautious kind of life—even someone as dull as me can understand that much.

But still, it can’t be helped, can it? Doesn’t everyone have that feeling deep inside the urge to act purely on the impulses of their heart, without thinking about the consequences?

Oh, but don’t misunderstand me. I don’t hold the kind of rotten beliefs those pre-war nobles had—the ones Mother told me about—who thought it was fine to hurt others for their own sake.

I am, after all, Father and Mother’s child. I at least know the difference between right and wrong.

Even so, deep within my heart and body, something has always burned a flame that refuses to go out.

I didn’t know how to control it myself, so I searched everywhere for a place where I could unleash it with all my strength, but I never found one.

Mother or Roxanne would probably channel that passion skillfully into navigating among the great figures of high society.

Melanie would likely pour herself into her studies and research, accomplishing something remarkable.

But me—I have nothing. My mind’s lacking, and the rigid rules of etiquette have always felt suffocating, no matter how hard I tried to accept them.

If I’d been born a boy like Leah, I could’ve joined a knight order sponsored by nobles or entered the military and worked my way up through the ranks.

But a girl born into a noble house in the Holfort Kingdom is only expected to serve as a pawn in a political marriage—to marry into a family she doesn’t even know, bear children, and strengthen the ties between houses.

Isn’t that just horrible!?

Being born for the sake of the family, married off to someone whose face you’ve never even seen, devoting your entire life to that family, and producing an heir to carry on the line.

Where is my will in any of that? Why doesn’t anyone try to seize their own way of living with their own hands?

High society demands well-mannered young ladies who know their place. But the refined young lady I present to the world is nothing more than a mask I force myself to wear.

Before I was born, and when I was still very young, there was a war and the Saint saved the kingdom. She came from commoner origins, yet she graduated at the top of the Royal Academy and now serves as the face of the temple while excelling in diplomacy with other nations.

Many girls at the Royal Academy, and the young ladies I know in high society, claim to admire the Saint. But whether they truly admire her from the bottom of their hearts is questionable.

It’s true that plenty of girls say things like, “I want to be like Lady Olivia,” but very few actually try to enter the temple and become shrine maidens.

And even among those who do join the temple, more than half apparently quit within a year and return to ordinary life.

The prayers and devotional duties are said to be harsh, but more than anything, they can’t endure being cut off from the outside world.

Since I regularly take part in training with the Bartfort feudal army, I think I could probably endure it.

But what I want to become isn’t the Saint who saved the kingdom.

Father once told me that the Bartfort family was originally among the companions who adventured alongside the kingdom’s founding king.

Mother’s family, the Redgrave ducal house was the same, fellow adventurers who inherited the blood of the second-generation Saint, the younger sister of the first Saint.

　“If I wished for it, becoming the next Saint of the temple wouldn’t even be a dream,” Mother had said.

But that isn’t the dream I want.

I want to do something no one has ever done before.

I want to burn like the sun and shine with blinding brilliance.

I still don’t know what that “something” is yet.

But somewhere in this world, there has to be a place where I can truly shine.

For the day when I can burn my life down to its very end and feel completely fulfilled—without a single regret.

Even today, I’m gazing up at the sky.

※ ※ ※ ※ ※

“Hey!! Don’t let your guard down!!”

A furious shout yanked my consciousness back.

I tried to snap back with a retort, but no voice came out. My throat was completely dry, and even though there wasn’t a single drop of saliva left in my mouth, it tasted sour and reeked faintly of iron.

What was I doing just now…?

I desperately tried to force my thoughts into motion, but they refused to come together. Every time I tried to think, a violent headache and a wave of dizziness slammed into me.

Nausea churned in my stomach, and the sounds reaching my ears felt distorted—different on the left and right.

I didn’t understand. I had no idea what I was supposed to do.

Still, driven by the creeping panic that I had to do something, I moved my hand—and my fingers brushed against something hard.

The moment I wrapped my hand around that metal object, warmth flowed from my palm into my body.

Suddenly, my vision cleared, and my mind snapped into place, recognizing where I was.

My reawakened senses flooded me with information all at once, screaming just how dangerous this situation was.

I gripped “it” with all my strength—the mass-produced rifle—using it like a cane to push myself upright, then settled into the same stance I’d practiced countless times.

One foot forward, body angled slightly. I kept just enough tension so the recoil wouldn’t jar me, while focusing every ounce of my awareness on firing the rifle.

Right now, I wasn’t Ariel Fou Bartfort.

I was nothing more than a firing platform—a mechanism that existed solely to aim the muzzle at the enemy and pour bullets into them.

Each time I set my finger on the trigger and slowly squeezed, the vibration rattled through my skull. That jolt helped drag me back, and I finally remembered the situation I was in.

“How long was I out!?”

“Dozens of seconds! You tripped over a monster’s corpse!”

“Aaah, damn it!!”

The click of my tongue was instantly swallowed by overlapping gunfire.

Angry at my own stupidity, I kept firing with near-murderous intent, almost like I was venting my frustration on them. Each shot was answered by a monster’s groan echoing from the darkness.

The swarm of monsters had forced us into a steady retreat.

We’d been driven all the way back to where the corpses of the monsters we’d killed earlier were scattered across the ground. On top of that, I’d slipped in the blood pooling across the floor and fallen flat.

Trying to hide how pathetic that was, I kept firing until—inevitably—I ran out of ammo. Each time that happened, I swapped roles with Lionel, reloading a spare magazine while he covered me.

Even while the two of us alternated reloading, Father continued firing in silence. His movements were efficient and incredibly smooth, with almost no wasted motion at all.

He seamlessly switched between the rifle loaded with normal rounds and the one loaded with magic rounds halting the monsters’ movements with standard bullets, then finishing them off cleanly with magic ones. He never broke that rhythm.

Without even a hint of labored breathing, he calmly repeated the same simple task, shooting down the approaching monsters one after another, starting with the closest.

Even though I’d fought monsters many times before, his flawless technique left me in awe.

Even so, we’d only been evenly matched against the swarm at the very beginning.

No matter how many we killed, another one immediately took its place.

The monsters poured in endlessly, filling every gap in the narrow passage like ants swarming over a dropped piece of candy.

Their hollow, sunken black eyes didn’t seem to focus on anything, yet they locked onto us without fail and continued driving us back.

We were clearly killing more of them but we were also the ones being pushed into a corner.

The longer we fought, the more our strength drained away, our retreat continuing step by step as death crept ever closer.

How much easier it would’ve been if this were just the dream I’d seen while unconscious.

Even though I wanted to escape reality, I understood one thing with absolute clarity if I let my guard down even for a moment, I’d lose my life.

“Sphere!!”

『What is it, Leon Fou Bartfort?』

“Instead of just lighting up the passage, think of something better!”

『I am not merely illuminating the passage. I have been attempting to access the ruins continuously, but there has been no response.』

“What about that trick you always use to turn me invisible!?”

『Given that the monsters have adapted to darkness, it is highly likely their visible spectrum surpasses that of humans. Furthermore, based on dissection results, their other sensory organs render transparency meaningless.』

“Then use electricity!”

『Non-lethal electric shocks designed for humans are unlikely to have any effect on monsters of that size.』

“You’re completely useless when it actually matters!!”

Even while hurling complaints at the floating Lost Item, Father never once slowed his attack.

　Even so, as more time slipped by, the more we were driven into a corner.

What if my legs gave out from exhaustion? What if we ran out of ammunition?

The thought alone was terrifying, yet I couldn’t stop those grim possibilities from flooding through my mind.

My stomach twisted painfully, making me feel so nauseous I wanted to throw up, but stopping meant death so I couldn’t afford to stop fighting either.

We were probably going to die here.

But… why?

For some reason, my face was curved into a smiling arc.

This was, without a doubt, a completely hopeless situation.

The sweat wouldn’t stop pouring down. My heartbeat had been pounding loudly in my ears for a while now, and waves of dizziness and nausea kept crashing over me.

And yet, somewhere deep within my mind, there was another version of me—calm and composed.

The air felt unnaturally heavy, almost like water—my movements were dulled, as if I were submerged beneath the current of a river.

But at the same time, everything around me was moving far too slowly, like children playing at make-believe.

When I focused my gaze, I could make out the shapes of monsters lurking within the darkness. 

If I strained my ears, I could pinpoint exactly where the echoing sounds in the corridor were originating.

My nose precisely dissected the scent of gunpowder and blood splatter, while my tongue reproduced exactly what kind of taste they held.

Even through the thick soles of my boots, the rigidity and chill of the floor beneath my feet transmitted themselves with clarity.

It was as though all five of my senses had been honed and extended far beyond anything I had ever experienced before, pouring relentlessly into my brain.

The sheer volume of information was so overwhelming it felt like my consciousness might shatter.

And yet, strangely, at this very moment I felt incredibly good.

my senses had grown so keen I could tell where everything was without even needing to look.

Still burning with feverish heat, I swapped out the rifle’s magazine and pulled the lever. The vibration running through my fingertips and the faint sound rattling my eardrums told me the next round had been chambered.

It wasn’t buckshot. These were high-powered expanding rounds, specially designed to bring down large animals and monsters.

Once the loading was finished, I moved my body almost nonchalantly, aimed the muzzle toward the target, and squeezed the trigger.

BAAAAANG!!

I didn’t need to look to understand what had happened.

The bullet I had fired ripped through the air, pierced the monster’s head, and scattered the contents of its skull across the surroundings.

The monster’s entrails and blood splashed wetly across the floor and walls, saturating the air with a nauseating stench.

Ignoring it completely, I ejected the spent casing and swung the muzzle toward the next target.

It was almost as if the monsters themselves were throwing their bodies straight into my bullets—every single shot struck true.

At some point, those razor-sharp sensations stopped bothering me.

My five senses continued to clamor noisily, flooding my brain with sound and scent, yet my heart remained clear and cloudless, like an untouched sky.

Ah… so that’s how it is.

My body moved as sluggishly as if I was wading through water, yet my thoughts remained perfectly clear. My mind unwillingly reached a conclusion I didn’t want to accept.

It was true I had always preferred taking part in the feudal army’s training and learning how to pilot armor over studying at the Royal Academy or attending tea parties with my classmates.

However, that had only ever been a minor act of rebellion against the life I had been born into as a noble—one I couldn’t change.

I had never wanted to come to a horrific place like this, overflowing with blood, guts, and screams.

If I had never come to this ruin, I probably would’ve lived out the rest of my life without ever realizing what I truly was.

But there was no turning back now. The heat burning inside me had finally found somewhere it could be unleashed.

“Ariel!”

“…………”

“Ariel!! Father is—!”

“!?”

I had been so intoxicated by the scent of blood and gunpowder, so completely fixated on cutting down my enemies, that everything else had slipped past my notice.

Snapped back by Lionel’s shout, I spun aroundand saw several monsters swarming over father.

Out of us three of them, Father had slain the most monsters. The creatures, which existed only to kill humans, seemed to have decided to eliminate the most troublesome opponent first.

Or maybe Father had deliberately acted as bait, drawing them in to protect me and Lionel.

Either way, if I didn’t act now, they would kill him.

I couldn’t use penetrating rounds. High-powered bullets would pierce straight through the monsters and strike Father.

Buckshot wouldn’t work either. Its short range and wide spread meant the pellets would hit Father along with the monsters.

And more than anything, there was no time. If I hesitated even for a moment to reload, Father would die in that brief instant.

What should I do? How could I save him?

Before I could even think it through, my legs had already moved, carrying me toward where father was.

Even I didn’t understand why my body had made that choice.

The only thing pushing me forward was the absolute certainty that I could save him, right now.

I ran. And ran. And ran.

By the time I reached him, I suddenly realized—I have thrown my rifle away.

Even the version of myself inside my mind was panicking.

I hadn’t thought at all about how I was supposed to fight monsters many times stronger than a human using nothing but bare strength.

I knew I couldn’t possibly defeat them empty-handed, even if I wanted to help father.

This was nothing more than throwing myself headfirst into danger like an idiot.

To make matters worse, several monsters that had sensed my presence began turning toward me and my eyes met those of her father, who was still under attack.

His mouth was moving, trying to say something, but with my senses stretched to their limits, everything sounded unbearably slow.

After what felt like dozens of seconds in my perception, I finally understood—

“What the hell are you doing, you idiot!!”

He was furious. It was rare for Father to scold me like that—normally, it was Mother.

But once my body had started moving, it wouldn’t stop.

If I froze here, I would only become a target.

My mind went completely blank. This was definitely going to get me killed.

Ah… something was starting to piss me off.

Why did her mother and father have to get dragged into something like this because of monsters like these, and some incomprehensible Lost Item?

A strange anger welled up inside me. i clenched her fist with all my strength and raised my arm.

Trying to fight a monster head-on out of sheer desperation I really was hopeless, wasn’t I?

Father, Mother… I’m sorry.

Lionel, you’re the eldest son, so make sure you properly support the Bartfort family.

Leah, I’m sorry for dumping so many annoying things on you all this time.

Roxanne, I’ll be watching from the afterlife so make sure you succeed in business.

Melanie, sorry I couldn’t pay back the money I borrowed.

Dylan, don’t imitate me, listen carefully to Father and Mother, and grow up to be a good kid.

Time stretched even further, and the faces of my family flashed through my mind one after another.

The body of a monster nearly twice my size loomed closer. The certainty of death sharpened my senses to their limit.

One one-hundredth of a second. One one-thousandth. One ten-thousandth. One one-hundred-thousandth.

Only my thoughts continued to accelerate, making time feel as if it had come to a complete stop. At this moment, I could consciously feel every corner of my body—parts I had never even been aware of before.

Something inside me stirred.

I felt blood rushing into an organ I had never used even once in my entire life.

Something that had slept within me until now connected to me and became one.

A torrent of power, along with an overwhelming heat, surged up from deep within her body, transforming her very existence.

It was hot no, unbearably, searingly hot.

“GrrrrrAAAAAaaaaAAAaaaAHHH!!!”

The roar that echoed through the dark corridor startled even me.

I couldn’t believe that such a beastly howl—something I had never seen or heard before—had come from her own mouth.

At the same time, something surged up from my heart, coursed through her veins, and poured into my tightly clenched right fist.

My fist—no, not just my fist.

My entire right arm began to glow, swelling to several times its original size.

A blinding flash, bright enough to scorch the eyes, filled the corridor, freezing both allies and enemies alike in place.

Only then did I finally realize—

My right arm wasn’t actually swelling.

What burst forth from her skin shot straight ahead, striking the monster’s grotesque face before its razor-sharp claws could ever reach her.

“GYAAAAAH!!”

The monster’s scream reverberated through the corridor, while the nauseating stench of scorched flesh and blood clung stubbornly to her nose.

Only then did I finally grasp what was happening to my body.

It was flame.

Crimson fire roared and flickered violently, even in the absence of wind, completely enveloping my right arm.

In the Holfort Kingdom, most nobles were trained so they could wield magic. That was only natural.

The children of Bartfort Earldom were no exception. From a young age, I had been told that the magic I possessed was the same fire magic as my mother’s.

And yet, no matter how much training I underwent, I had never once been able to use it properly.

At best, I could only produce a feeble flame—barely enough to light kindling or scare off wild beasts.

But the flames now surging from my body again and again felt utterly cool against my skin, not burning her in the slightest. In stark contrast, the monster’s sunken face that had taken the hit was charred black and still radiated searing heat.

Then, suddenly, I noticed something glowing—its light distinctly different from the flames coiling around my right arm.

Because of the fire, it was difficult to see clearly, but parts of the plating had peeled away, and the cord was frayed in several places.

That’s right—this was the protective charm mother had given her before they’d set out for the ruins, praying for their safety.

Through that charm, which continued to emit a glow clearly unlike metal or flame, the power dwelling within my body connected to it and began to surge wildly, beyond my control.

The flames erupting from me illuminated the darkness of the corridor, causing the monsters to recoil, frozen in place.

I raised my right arm high and then brought it crashing down onto the nearest monster.

Whether its vision had been overwhelmed by the blazing light or not, the creature couldn’t defend itself or evade, taking the full brunt of the flaming arm that fell like a hammer.

Once again, the stench of burning filled the corridor but there wasn’t any time to dwell on it.

This time, I loosened my clenched fist, easing the power in my right arm, then swiftly swung it from right to left, sweeping away the monsters closing in on her father.

She hadn’t even put that much strength into it, yet the magic-infused flames carried overwhelming force all on their own.

The monsters that were struck were hurled into the walls, their bodies convulsing violently.

It felt… strange.

As though my own body had become kindling, and yet my heart remained perfectly calm and clear, without even the slightest trace of panic.

Maybe… I could turn this situation around right now.

The instant that thought crossed my mind, the flow of time seemed to snap back to normal.

This was bad. This power was probably something I could only use by sheer chance.

Trying to drive back the monsters with a force whose limits I didn’t even understand was something my mind simply couldn’t handle.

“Father!! Hurry, hurry!!”

“W-What do you mean!?”

“Give me orders!! I’m an idiot, so I don’t know what to do!!”

“O-Okay!!”

My voice was completely different from the fierce roar earlier—it was shrill, almost a panicked scream, like a young lady who’d just spotted a snake or an insect, as I urged her father forward.

Lionel, who’d been stunned until now, hurriedly raised his gun and desperately began pushing the monsters back.

And yet, even though I had been on the brink of death mere moments ago, the instant I realized there was a chance to survive, a strange sense of relief welled up inside me, why did that make me want to laugh?

As I felt the flames clinging to me, I, Ariel faced the monsters… with a smile on my lips.

┳⁠━━━━⁠━⁠⁠━⁠━⁠━━━⁠┳  

Authors Note  

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻  

This is Ariel’s awakening chapter. The situation overlaps slightly with the scene where Angie awakened in the original work.

If Angie carries the Saint’s blood, then it’s only natural that her daughter would inherit that same bloodline as well.

However, since this is her first awakening, her power isn’t as strong as Angie’s was in the original, and her fighting style here is nowhere near as refined.

The next chapter will cover the latter half of the battle, where Ariel’s flames will illuminate the darkness even further.

I’d really appreciate any opinions or impressions—they’d motivate me a lot going forward.