| Author: Tensei Mikami | Original Source: Syosetu | Word Count: 2269 characters |
| Translator: Jiro | English Source: Re:Library | Word Count: 983 words |
| Editor(s): Robinxen | ||
Was it possible to be good at all times?
Being a good person and behaving in a good manner was not a very high hurdle for those who had a sense of decency and common sense. Everyone could be a good person with just a little compassion and a little bit of leeway.
However, it was undeniable that every single person had a cruel side. That was not something one had to be blamed for. Humans, by nature, were not designed to always be kind.
The two knights standing before the boy known as Lichter were in rare good spirits and were willing to show their good side.
“A wandering orphan, huh?”
“Picking a fight with our hero just after meeting him… You’re a piece of work, you know that brat?”
An aloof attitude was a sign of composure. The truth was that the knights were being generous. They were delighted that the king and the people had acknowledged their efforts and were also wasted from the victory wine. For them, this was their golden age. They would likely not experience a night better than this one.
Lichter, in turn, clenched his teeth as he crawled.
He could instinctively smell the scent of strength coming from the two knights. They were weaker when compared to Orthus; however, compared to himself, Lichter knew they were strong.
Hence, anger rose from the bottom of his stomach.
“Oh?”
Lichter slowly stood up, and the area around him covered in mist seemed like a mirage. Standing before Lichter was a knight. An ally of justice who was likely stronger than himself.
(If you’re so strong, if you’re so intent on priding yourself for being righteous, if you’re a knight…)
“Then why didn’t you help me and my brother?” Lichter shouted.
Screaming, he jumped at one of the knights, knife in hand. Lichter would never forget the expressions on the faces of the knights that evening. One shrugged his shoulders in dismay, and one bit back a chuckle.
It was written on their faces that they were fed up with having to deal with strange things like this. They weren’t in the least moved by Lichter’s expression. Nor did they have any intention to buy into his provocation.
Knights, by their nature, were often subjected to unwarranted complaints and grudges. However, there was no way for Lichter to know that.
Even though he had suffered so much, even though he had been so passionate, these knights gave him absolutely nothing. They lived powerful, blessed, and proud lives, applauded by the people, yet they offered nothing.
Lichter’s resentment, his anger, broke through the turning point. Before he knew it, he’d been beaten down in an alleyway and left like a dirty rag.
“……”
The coldness of the rain hitting his cheeks brought Lichter back to his senses. His whole body was bruised and sore, and his mouth was filled with the taste of iron.
“Urgh…”
It didn’t take him long to realize that those knights had played him for a fool. Lifting himself out of a puddle, Lichter leaned against a wall. His muddy clothes felt like lead, and he grunted as he stripped them off.
His body was frighteningly cold. His lips were pale, and his back shivered for warmth without denial. Despite this, inside Lichter, there was a raging fire. Lichter’s body felt so hot that he did not care about the cold at all.
The root of this heat was his bottomless anger. An urge to kill those who acted foolish and arrogantly despite being blessed with the strength to help others. There was an urge to kill the knights. The thirst for strength and the disappointment that came from that strength.
The things Lichter held at that time were the core that formed the person Lichter is today. The thirst to be stronger than anyone and anything else. The relief of recognizing that he was stronger than others and that he was in a position where nothing could be taken away from him.
And then there was the unquenchable rage he felt for the wretched Orthus and those knights, who, despite having the strength to do so, had become drunk with praise and were unable to even help those in need.
Lichter thereby came to have a deeply ingrained false impression of Orthus, the knights, and all the other powerful people in this world. That was why he craved the power that would allow him to win against every single person in this world.
He was intoxicated by his power to crush others. He did not forget the anger he bore towards the strong. He continued to look down on the legendary heroes who played friends with the knights.
The human known as Lichter was a sad man who had continued to hone his strength in isolation, relying on the wounds of his childhood and his hatred to support him.
◆◆◆
Seletina caught a glimpse of Lichter’s history in the torrent of darkness.
The human nucleus, Lichter. The root behind it all was the false image of himself that had been deeply ingrained in Lichter.
(If only I had faced him back then rather than leaving those two knights to deal with him.)
It was too late for such regrets. Seletina had missed the opportunity, despite having stood at the dividing line of destiny. She couldn’t help but feel that Lichter would not have become so frustrated if only she had been there to guide him at the time.
The hero had then died without their fates ever having the chance to intertwine. However, it was not too late. It was never too late.
“Lichter!!!”
The hero, the young girl, extended her slender arm to Lichter. Their fates were about to intertwine once more. Through this young girl, the hero would see the lost future come to life.
“……”
Lichter slowly opened his eyes at Seletina’s cry.
