Aya Ran Away - Chapter 15

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 15
Nahal did not wish for the King’s death, yet that creature—that “King”—could have killed Nahal a hundred times over and more.
It was no human, and so it could not have felt guilt for taking a human life.
Indeed, that “King” had harmed the palace servants every season.
And yet Nahal did not kill it.
Despite hating it so deeply.
‘Strange.’
What was it hoping for?
The “King’s” thoughts were utterly incomprehensible.
Even a king such as that could not ignore the eyes of the people, could it?
Was it possible that the “King” actually cared about the people?
‘Strange.’
Aya shook her head as that entity crossed her mind.
What could the “King” possibly want?
Aya set down her shuttle, her face troubled.
She gazed out the window in silence.
Despite her unease, the wind that blew in was cool and fresh.
Months later, news of Nahal’s victory swept through the Capital.
He had been sent to a hopeless battle—meant, surely this time, to return as a corpse—yet against all odds Nahal prevailed, reclaimed the lost territory, and came home.
They had sent him to die, chosen a place from which no man could return alive, and still he returned bearing the drums of victory; and the praises for him thundered forth.
* * *
Hot and metallic spray erupted across his helmeted face.
Amid the clash of blades and someone’s screams, Nahal heard his own breath.
He looked around—life was nothing but limbs severed everywhere.
Was this how he was born?
Or had he himself built this life?
He could not say.
Peace was a word too distant from him.
What had it been like to be born in a place where everyone despised him?
Nahal swung his arm, remembering a childhood laced with contempt and pity.
And now?
His life spiraled endlessly through carnage.
‘If I repeat these moments much longer, will I die of them?’
Beyond the noise, a phantom sound like waves crashing reached his ears.
“Aaaaagh!”
The roar of an enemy charging at him drowned out that wave-like sound, and Nahal met the eyes of the attacker bearing down on him.
Fear and some incomprehensible fervor swirled together, their forms unrecognizable.
Eyes already drenched in blood were soaked in madness.
He met the falling weight head-on.
The blades that touched trembled against each other.
‘I hoped not to bring shame before him.’
As if such a thing were ever possible for him from the beginning.
Clang!
Without thought, Nahal read the direction his opponent would move next.
His hands held no hesitation, no restraint.
A moment of wavering, and his enemy’s head would have rolled across the ground.
He knew all too well that half-hearted mercy brought only self-destruction.
Nahal did not wish to die.
This was not yet the time.
Until he had repaid every debt to his benefactor, he could not die.
He had never thought concretely about how to express his gratitude to the Priest, or what he might offer.
He did not believe that meeting the Priest again would breathe life into his wretched existence, or that his life would somehow take a dramatically positive turn.
Nahal simply wished to prove his faith.
He wanted to show that he had believed the Priest’s prophecy and that was how he had achieved this.
Ah, he could say with certainty:
That Priest was the very embodiment of “holiness” as Nahal understood it.
If one asked people what came to mind when they thought of “the divine,” most would speak of murals hanging in temples, small sculptures an inch in height, or reliefs carved into walls.
But in Nahal’s mind, the divine was a child of slight build, with eyes veiled by a long colored cord.
Nahal brushed away what flowed down his brow and turned his thoughts inward.
‘I must survive.’
Yet the king of Levar wished him dead.
Nahal, bearing the monarch’s hatred, needed a way to navigate this crisis without incident.
‘But how.’
How could he, a subject and warrior, dare refuse the king’s command?
If the king ordered him again to “walk into the tomb,” he would have to at least make the gesture of compliance.
His worry deepened.
‘First, I need to escape this wretched sea.’
Nahal steadied his roiling stomach with that thought.
He dispatched an attacker lunging at him from a distance, then surveyed his surroundings.
“Demon Beasts!”
The cry became an instant ceasefire.
Combat would resume only after they’d slaughtered the creatures circling for corpses and exhausted soldiers, then regrouped.
Nahal fixed his gaze on the dark swarm of winged Demon Beasts descending from ahead.
He braced for their onslaught.
Yet, strangely.
The creatures that would normally have plummeted straight to the ground did not descend.
Instead, they shrieked and wheeled through the sky, circling endlessly.
A gasp escaped from someone near Nahal as he looked up at them in bewilderment.
“By the gods…….”
A man in an enemy uniform, not Levar’s colors, stared at him with eyes wide in shock and reverence.
His grip loosened, and his blade clattered to the earth.
Others turned their eyes upon Nahal with a strange, piercing gaze.
Some even tore off their helmets and cast them aside.
Nahal, observing their reaction, slowly raised his head.
The sky above him stood completely clear—a perfect circle where no Demon Beasts swarmed.
Through that gaping void, light poured down upon him.
As if to prove he was chosen.
* * *
“Roooooaaaaar!”
As the city gates opened, a roar like thunder flooded in.
The weight of it pressed down so overwhelmingly that even Nahal’s shoulders tensed.
It was unlike anything he’d known before.
Crowds lined both sides of the street, chanting his name.
Some called him by his true name, others by his epithet.
It was rare to hear only his name sung like this.
People scattered petals at him and beat small drums.
All the cities he’d passed through on his way to the Capital had witnessed similar scenes.
Amid the cheers and songs, Nahal gazed quietly at the Royal Palace beyond the crowd.
Then he lowered his eyes.
Inside his solid armor hung the princess’s Ring, bound with cord so he wouldn’t lose it.
Rather than say he cherished it so dearly he couldn’t bear to remove it from his chest, it would be more accurate to say he kept it safe simply to return it without damage.
Whether the princess had known or not when she gave it to him, he couldn’t say—but the royal seal engraved upon it meant he couldn’t simply wear it.
Unable to handle it carelessly, he’d taken to wearing it around his neck instead, and it was after that moment when strange things began to happen.
The rumor that Demon Beasts avoided him was no fabrication.
Truly, without lifting a finger, they shunned him and refused to attack.
Some even bolted in panic, as if confronting some vast and terrible thing, never looking back.
Both his allies and his enemies witnessed it.
Enemy morale crumbled while his own troops found inspiration in the miracle they’d beheld.
After he acquired the Ring, rumors about him began to swell.
He came to be regarded as something almost inhuman, and some began to revere him as divine.
Even the comrades beside him were subtly changing.
‘This isn’t good.’
It was far worse than merely not good.
It was very bad indeed.
He needed to excel, yes—but he mustn’t draw attention.
All Nahal wanted was to meet his benefactor again and repay the debt.
Yet he’d already failed at that pursuit many times over.
He had no wish to invite the king’s further disfavor.
‘What on earth did she give me.’
It made no sense, but this was undoubtedly the Ring’s doing.
Nahal’s mind drifted naturally to the person who had given him the Ring.
Around the time the rumors began to swell, he had briefly suspected the Princess.
The uncomfortable attention and support that bordered on adulation only sharpened his exhausted mind further.
For a while, he even entertained the fantasy: ‘What if all of this is a trap the Princess laid for me?’
But he’d abandoned the suspicion soon enough—simply because the Princess didn’t seem like the sort of person who would orchestrate such a thing.
‘Impossible.’
Her eyes held the innocence of a young lamb incapable of harboring malice.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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