Civil Servant in Romance Fantasy

Chapter 372: The Last Wolf

At some point, the dizziness faded. My blurred vision cleared, and my labored breathing returned to normal. Of course, it wasn’t because my wounds were healing. How could they? I had lost everything below the waist. Both my arms were gone.

This was nothing more than a final flare. Just as fire burned the brightest right before it went out, my body was briefly flaring up.

Stubborn to the bitter end.

After laughing for a while, I blankly stared at the sky. Even with enhancement spells, I avoided instant death after taking the impact of the collision of two World Destructions. Thanks to that, I ended up blabbering embarrassing stories to that guy. I knew my lifeline was tough, but this was ridiculous.

But it was strange. While I intended to die without saying anything, actually spilling it all felt incredibly relieving. I felt almost happy thinking that my archenemy, who had delivered my final moment, would remember the path I’d walked.

“And the tribes that followed you... do they all share your conviction?”

At those words, I turned my gaze to Carl Krasius and chuckled.

“Yes. They’re all lunatics prepared to die, unable to coexist with the Empire just like me.”

Even when I told them to surrender if they wanted to live, they refused. Even when I told them to vanish, to disappear and escape the Empire’s wrath, they shook their heads, saying they’d rather die as nomads than live under the same sky as the empire. They were trash that needed to vanish for a new world to be created.

So, as the leader of that trash, I led them. I gave them a chance to vent their pent-up resentment one last time.

“The last of the last. Stubborn as hell, every single one of them. Even when I told them surrender was an option, they just laughed and told me to surrender first.”

It was ridiculous coming from the same guys who’d fight to the death regardless of whether I surrendered or not.

“The Empire is merciful to those who surrender.”

“I know. I did this exactly because I knew that.”

I answered with another burst of laughter at his low voice.

What he just said was his consideration. Even if my followers were too far gone to surrender, if—by some miracle—they changed their minds after my death, he was telling me they would be treated well.

“They’re more likely to kill themselves than surrender, but thanks for opening that door.”

So, I spoke honestly. They’d rather break their necks than bow their heads due to their deep grudge against the empire, but I was thankful that he gave them a way to live.

At the same time, it was frustrating. Why couldn’t they just bow their heads a little when it would guarantee not only their safety, but also power?

Well, I’m not one to talk.

Come to think of it, I was the one who stood against the Empire, knowing I would die. It would be unconscionable to hope for others to surrender while I was being like this. Just as I harbored resentment, they each must have their own grudges.

Grudges, huh.

I turned my gaze from Carl Krasius back to the sky. I fought not only to realize our ideals following Him but also to resolve the grudge I harbored.

We crudely achieved our collapsed ideal at the cost of my life and theirs. We couldn’t create our own country, but at least we made it possible to escape the empire’s threat and enjoy prosperity.

But what about my grudge? Was the grudge I harbored resolved?

I failed.

No matter how much I tried to justify it, the truth remained the same. My grudge would end up disappearing with my death.

It’s shameful. For a man who claimed to be the leader of his country, I couldn’t handle my personal affairs. No, if it were just my personal matter, then I would’ve thought it couldn’t be helped and moved on.

How can I face Mother?

But it wasn’t just any personal matter. As a son, failing to avenge my mother’s resentment wasn’t something I could lightly brush off.

Mother, who was defiled by Imperial soldiers who crushed the nomads like bugs. Mother, who bore a child cursed by blood—yet taught him how to love.

And even Him, who cared for me like a son when I was just his nephew after my mother passed away from illness.

Well, this is a mess.

Everything was a mess. I had failed to punish the Empire for my mother’s suffering, and I had failed to fulfill the dream of the one man who had treated me as family.

It wasn’t until death loomed over me that I finally understood. I thought I’d shed all regrets and attachments, but I hadn’t. From the start, I was full of attachments, and those attachments kept me alive. I just deliberately ignored them because they were grudges I couldn’t resolve.

Since His fall and since the moment our people lost hope, punishing the empire became an eternally unattainable goal. For me, it meant that I could never avenge my mother’s resentment.

Maybe that was why I clung so desperately to our ideals—why I refused to let them go. An unblessed birth, a life unable to assist the one who was like a father to me, and the incompetence of failing to live up to the North’s will.

To ignore all this, to have even a small excuse when I eventually meet Mother... I fought.

“Carl Krasius.”

“What?”

“In your eyes, what was I like?”

I saw Carl Krasius’s expression crumple at this sudden question. I understand. How absurd must it be for a dying enemy leader to spout such nonsense, especially asking how I looked—? Obviously, I must have been a bastard.

But I wanted to hear it. Not only because he was the only one by my side, but because I believe that the view of my persistent nemesis and archenemy will be more accurate than anyone else’s.

“...There’s a saying, ‘A tiger for a father, but a mutt for a son.’”

Carl Krasius sighed after saying that much, then spat out as if annoyed.

“Even a wolf is just a dog.”

“Ha.”

I burst into laughter.

“That’s some high praise.”

Watching Carl’s expression contort even more at those words, I closed my eyes in satisfaction.

I had said everything I wanted to say and heard everything I wanted to hear. My life had burned its final flame, so it was time to go.

Now that I was actually dying, I was curious. What would the afterlife be like?

If possible, I hope it’s a single world without heaven or hell. If they’re separate, Mother will go to heaven and me to hell.

If they’re separate, so be it, but

if there’s only one afterlife

and I see Mother there

I’ll tell her that although I couldn’t avenge her grudge, I tried

That I fought for our people, and at least... I kept them safe

...So please, to this inadequate son

say that I’ve worked hard

that I’ve done well on my own

just once—

***Dorgon, who closed his eyes, never opened them again.

The faint smile remaining on his face made me wonder if he left while having a good dream.

— Is it over?

Yes.

I answered the voice echoing in my head while looking at Dorgon’s face.

It’s over.

— ...Yeah, it is.

The Eternal Blue Sky, who muttered in a subdued voice, spoke again only after a long while.

— Once, I was the only god that mattered. Before the world knew the concept of settlement, every race on this land was nomadic. And so, they worshiped me, the sky above them.

It was a sudden boast, but I listened silently. It was probably not just bragging.

— But as time passed, people stopped wandering. They built walls. They stayed in one place. And as the number of nomads dwindled, so did my power.

I had heard this before. When I first met the Eternal Blue Sky, she had bitterly said that the age of nomadic gods was fading. Even afterward, she would often sigh and grumble about its decline.

— Weakened as I am, the nomads still worshipped me. Those children were the only ones who worshipped me, and they were the only ones I responded to.

Normally, I’d have said, ‘It doesn’t seem like even nomads worship you anymore,’ but I kept silent. The Eternal Blue Sky’s voice had already sunk beyond subdued, becoming tearful.

— I’m not saying these children were right. Just as they suffered at the hands of settled people, settled people must have suffered too. Blood has been spilled for so long that I can’t even remember who first oppressed whom.

That was true. At this point, debating who struck first was pointless. The wars between settlers and nomads had lasted for far too long. They had likely been fighting since before nations even existed.

— ...But if even I turn my back on these children, then no one will embrace them... Can I ask you one favor?

Yes, go ahead.

–- If possible, could you cremate this child’s body? The nomads always preferred cremation...

I see.

–- Ah, well, before you do, do whatever you want. It’s common even among nomads to use enemy corpses for propaganda.

The Eternal Blue Sky added that last part hastily, as if afraid I might refuse.

It wasn’t a difficult request. Even in the Empire, cremation was preferred over burial. Even if she hadn’t asked, Dorgon’s body would have eventually been burned.

Understood. I’ll do that, so don’t worry.

— Mm, thank you.

With that slightly relieved voice behind me, I continued staring at Dorgon’s corpse.

Using an enemy’s corpse for propaganda was common. It was the quickest way to show the fate of those who defied authority, like beheading and displaying a traitor’s head.

But strangely, I didn’t want to do that. I just wanted to cremate Dorgon’s body normally.

Is it sympathy?

No, that wasn’t it. I wasn’t going to glorify him and say, ‘Oh, he was actually a good guy.’ Whatever his circumstances, Dorgon was clearly an enemy of the empire.

But I no longer felt the need to hate him. Dorgon paid the price with his death, dying by my hand, and because of that, my lingering attachments disappeared too. I wouldn’t defend Dorgon, but I had no reason to hate him, either.

If things had been different...

With neither defense nor hatred, only an objective view remained. Dorgon’s end could have been my end. If I had gone just a little astray, I might have looked like that. Perhaps that was why I wanted to send him off quietly.

...But come to think of it, wasn’t this sympathy?

Tch.

Fine, let’s say it was sympathy. He’s dead anyway, so I could at least do this much as the victor.

With a quiet sigh, I let the remaining mana in my body flow outward.

The battle was over. It was time to return.  But as I looked around, I realized something. The horses were dead. They must have died, caught up in Sky Cleaver.

So, I sent a signal by expelling my mana. Suddenly moving a large amount of mana in an open field would be obviously strange to anyone watching. If the battle was over on their side as well, they’d send someone.

It’s over.

It only sunk in then. It was really over now.

Five years of bad blood and three years of lingering attachments had ended. The peace everyone had dreamed of had arrived.

It’s over.

I gently raised my head and stared at the sky.

In there was a great X, slashed into the clouds where our Sky Cleavers had met.