Quit The Hero Party

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EP.489 Ganikalt van Galatrick

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Black blood flowed.

Splash, the black blood dropped and seeped into the ground. Under the split sky, on the torn and thrown earth, Ganikalt laughed. With a smile, he exhaled deeply.

Huff.

Having exhaled, he let go of the sword.

The gigantic greatsword thunked as it was driven diagonally into the ground. Ganikalt had never once dropped his sword in front of an enemy. Until the very end, until that moment of death, Ganikalt van Galatrick had shouted to wield and swing the sword.

Yet, he let go of it.

He didn’t simply drop it. He set it down of his own will. This signified the end of this long yet short duel, and simultaneously…

“It’s my defeat.”

It meant he acknowledged his defeat.

Death caught up with him.

Ganikalt’s body began to crumble.

His flesh swept away by Yeocheon shattered.

One by one, the components that made Ganikalt, the Death’s Blade, began to fall away. The crudely intertwined bones of the Beast crumbled into dust. The bones, the black muck, everything supporting him flowed down.

Drip, drip.

Amid the falling remnants, Ganikalt felt the blade that was lodged in his heart. The final thrust delivered by Kyle, who rushed in until the very end. Ganikalt savored that blow.

There was no technique of Yeocheon to this strike.

No mysterious trajectory, nor fierce sword aura enveloped this hit.

Simply, it was a mild sword strike.

A concise and unembellished blow. A strike faithful to the fundamentals of the sword. The fact that the final blow that decided the match adhered to the fundamentals made Ganikalt chuckle. Fundamentals, that was what Ganikalt van Galatrick valued most.

“A beautiful strike.”

Ganikalt said.

“Well done, Kyle Toven.”

It was an extension of a conversation they had shared long ago.

On that day, in the North, Ganikalt had praised the knight who struck him. Though he hadn’t yet reached the same level as Ganikalt, he had encouraged the knight who confronted his fragments.

He believed that the knight could reach it.

He had told him to keep striving.

Time flowed, and now in this rematch, Ganikalt opened his mouth to speak of what came next. He smiled at the knight who had caught up with him … and surely surpassed him. Crack, as his helmet shattered.

“It’s your victory.”

What was revealed from within the helmet was a human face.

It was a face distorted by shadow, yet the light in his eyes could not be obscured by the shadows. Standing before the oldest hero now, Kyle slowly stepped back, leaving his sword behind.

With his broken body no longer able to stand, Ganikalt knelt.

He gazed down at the black blood pooling beneath him. The very things that made him a calamity were bleeding out, turning to muck. As he looked at the muck that seemed to flow endlessly, Ganikalt slowly closed his eyes. He reflected on the path he had walked.

…He had lived grasping a sword.

He met his teacher in a mountainous valley.

His teacher was a skilled knight but had lost his arm in the war, rendered unable to swing a sword. That day, when he had wasted his days on alcohol, it was when Ganikalt weakly demonstrated some swordsmanship that he was handed a sword rather than a bottle.

He said,

“You will never escape the shadow of the sword in your lifetime. Your talent will make sure of that.”

“So, live by the sword. Become a sword and dash through the world. Polish yourself. Sharply.”

He learned a great deal from him.

Though his teacher, who had lost his arm, couldn’t properly demonstrate, he taught him the intricacies of the sword. He spoke of what to put into a sword, of the things he aimed for but could not reach.

“Find a master.”

“A master who can teach you what you need to embody, what you should aim for.”

With those words, his teacher met his end.

Leaving behind his teacher’s grave, Ganikalt set out on a journey to find his master. He met many individuals along the way and ultimately encountered that person.

“First, observe.”

“Protect the castle walls you broke with your own hands. Let’s start there.”

Acriel Clen Arcadia.

Having taken her as his master, Ganikalt protected the castle walls. He defended humanity from the incoming enemies and wielded his sword for humanity. In that process, he learned what to embody in the sword and how to live.

“May I ask a question?”

And on that day…

“Have you found the meaning to embody in the sword?”

“…I have.”

“Do you have a conviction?”

“I have come to possess it.”

Ganikalt made his choice.

“Is that so? There was meaning after all.”

As he gazed at the end of his lord whom he could not protect, Ganikalt made a vow. He decided what he needed to wield the sword for. He embarked on a long journey alongside comrades with the same goal.

He learned many things.

He saw many things.

He gained much and also lost greatly.

At the end of his long journey, Ganikalt chose once more. What he wanted to embody in his sword was protection; becoming a protector of humanity had become his conviction. Thus, he devoted himself to protect humanity until the very end.

“I will make a deal.”

And thus, he became a calamity.

Much time passed.

Many sins were committed.

He endured long hours while holding onto his wavering conviction, shaky dignity, and rotting sanity. He was no longer a hero, nor a protector; merely a calamity that had to fall. So he waited patiently for the doom that would someday find him.

“I am Kyle Toven.”

However.

“In the rematch of that day.”

What awaited at the end was not doom.

What awaited him was the end of being a knight. Ganikalt had no choice but to smile at the proclamation of the knight who aimed his sword at him. He faced death by losing to the sword of a junior who had chased after him. He thought there was no greater ending than this.

Although he could not die as a human…

He could die as a knight.

He was a being who wished to live as a sword.

If the end granted to him was to lose by the sword and die as a knight, how could he not be satisfied? There would be no greater conclusion.

…He had lived by the sword, and he would die by the sword.

Huff.

And so, it was the moment Ganikalt was about to conclude his life. At a sound heard from somewhere, Ganikalt slowly opened his closed eyes. What met his gaze was the still flowing blood beneath him.

Drip, the blood fell.

Yet… that blood was not black.

The blood that fell was red. Following his left arm flowed the red blood. As if he had poured out all the black blood, what was now flowing was human red blood. Ganikalt’s pupils narrowed.

…How?

The muck that dripped down from his body was a fragment of the shadow, a part of the overwhelming demon lord that Ganikalt had to bear that day. There was no way such a colossal malice could flow out with such meager bloodshed.

Yet, strangely…

He felt no trace of the shadow that had rooted in his soul. His mind was clearer than ever. What he had thought was a burden he must bear until the very end no longer felt present at all.

“……”

Ganikalt raised his head.

When he lifted his gaze, before him stood the knight who had conquered him. He smiled and gestured with his eyes. He turned around. Ganikalt slowly shifted his gaze to where Kyle was looking.

Clop.

There was someone staggering toward him. A figure with ash-gray hair resembling that of a comrade. The successor of the contract stood before Ganikalt.

“I guess it worked.”

Raniel van Trias.

She smiled faintly as she pointed to the black blood pooled beneath Ganikalt. If one looked closely… there were flicks of crimson lightning rising from that spot.

“…Huh.”

Ganikalt let out a hollow laugh.

The rising lightning was Yeocheon. It was the lightning Raniel had repeatedly struck into Ganikalt’s body during the battle. The Yeocheon burned not only the starlight but also the shadows.

…The lightning that could not defeat Ganikalt van Galatrick. However, that very lightning managed to burn away the Death’s Blade, one of the four calamities. It had truly returned him to humanity. Upon realizing this, Ganikalt looked at the successor standing before him.

“…Was this the objective?”

At his question, Raniel shook her head.

“It wasn’t just this. My goal was to surpass you and head beyond… this is a promise I made with that fellow.”

Crimson lightning burnt away the muck.

Ganikalt van Galatrick, returned to humanity.

As she gazed at all this, Raniel smiled.

“Cardi van Armiel. Your comrade made a request.”

“…What was it?”

“To liberate you.”

To free you from the burdens you had to bear.

To free you from the shadows you had to embody.

To release you from your role as a calamity.

“To liberate you all, so that the heroes of the past could die merely as humans. That was Cardi’s request and…”

Raniel slowly exhaled.

Straightening the tattered hem of her clothes, she fixed her posture. The same went for Kyle, who stood beside Raniel, and Kalt, who staggered over.

“It’s also my choice.”

Raniel opened her mouth.

“You have lost as a calamity and as a knight. However… I want to say that you have never lost as a hero.”

She said.

“Your sacrifices that day were not in vain.”

As a successor.

“Because of your sacrifices, humanity did not perish that day. Though it took a long, winding road to return… humanity has made it here. To the very scenery you saw that day.”

As the representative of humanity.

“And now, we will surpass you and move forward. To fulfill the dreams you could not achieve that day.”

To the First Hero.

“Therefore, it is your victory.”

The Last Hero spoke.

“We, who are the witnesses of this.”

With those final words, Raniel, Kalt, and Kyle each showed their respect for the hero before their eyes in their own ways. It was as if they were paying the utmost tribute to the hero who had sacrificed everything to save humanity.

Seeing this, Ganikalt smiled.

…He had lost as a calamity to a hero. He had lost as a knight to a knight. But the successor before him claimed he had never lost as a hero.

“…A bold junior indeed.”

“If I want to surpass you, I need to have this much spirit.”

Ganikalt chuckled bitterly.

He spoke facing Raniel.

“There lies the demon lord.”

“I know.”

“The final trial humanity must overcome, and the wall you must pass through to reach your goal.”

Raniel flinched slightly.

As if to say she had been aware, she glanced at Ganikalt with a scowl. Ganikalt merely smiled lightly at her gaze.

“You told me. That you would reach the place we could not reach that day.”

“……”

“I can guess where that is. Merely uprooting the shadows from this world alone will not lead you to the future you desire.”

We must move on to the next place where we have stopped.

And that place is located…

“It must be over there.”

Ganikalt looked up at the sky.

Nodding, Raniel slowly extended her hand toward Ganikalt. She opened her clenched fist. What rose from the open palm was the answer she had found.

“…Indeed.”

The Gletus had also seen at the end.

Ganikalt smiled as he looked at the fragments of the answer Raniel had discovered. Although he was ignorant of magic, he could guess what it was.

“That’s your answer.”

Or perhaps, it would be humanity’s answer to present to the heavens.

Slowly rising from his knees, Ganikalt stood. With each movement, his flesh broken into pieces, scattered in the wind across the wasteland.

Ignoring that, Ganikalt stood tall. With both feet planted firmly on the ground, he raised his left arm, from which red blood dripped, pointing behind him.

The twisted fingers guided toward beyond the wasteland. The place where death lay silent, where Gehete’s end was located. The place awaiting the final trial humanity must overcome. Pointing toward the temple of shadows, Alcadia, Ganikalt spoke.

“Advance.”

The oldest hero spoke.

“Please take care of my master.”

Spoke the sharpest sword of a queen.

Crack.

All flesh crumbled. Along with his crumbling form, he spoke his final words.

“I thank you. For all your efforts.”

The human, Ganikalt van Galatrick, gave his testament.

As he offered those words, he smiled.

…He had lived by the sword and would die by the sword.

A man who had lived by the sword could smile at the very end of his life. More peacefully and lightly than ever before.

Flap.

The wind blowing wrapped around Ganikalt. Where he had stood, only a single sword remained lodged in the ground.

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