The Last Place Hero’s Return - Chapter 285

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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 285. Demon God Dale (2)
Transparent tears traced down the Empress’s cheeks.
Witnessing her delicate form, the first emotion that surfaced was not sorrow or melancholy, but bewilderment and unease.
‘What… what is this?’
Knowing Camelia’s usual temperament, I could scarcely imagine her weeping so openly and profusely.
As I fumbled to comprehend the surreal spectacle unfolding before my eyes.
“You were going to die like this… Do you have any idea how much I worried? How much?”
Her words made the reason abundantly clear.
‘Ah, so Camelia didn’t know I possessed the blessing of resurrection.’
The other Party members at least knew that I would not die, no matter how dire the circumstances became.
Of course, that didn’t mean they weren’t worried, but they certainly had far less cause for concern than Camelia, who knew nothing.
“Ugh.”
I should have told her beforehand.
“…Why do you make such an expression? Wait, surely the aftereffects haven’t…!”
“No, it’s nothing like that.”
I grasped Camelia’s hand as she hastily moved to summon Iris, shaking my head.
“Now that I think about it, you promised to tell me about myself once this war ended, didn’t you?”
“There is no need to tell you now. You have only just risen from your sickbed—first, you must recover your strength…”
“You needn’t worry about my body.”
“Tsk. What are you saying? No matter how formidable your power, you are not immortal. First, you must tend to your—”
“That’s right. An immortal body.”
“…What?”
Camelia stared at me with wide, bewildered eyes.
Seeing her usually solemn and perpetually composed expression falter in such a way, an irresistible urge to tease her welled up from deep within me.
“Rather than explain with words, it would be better to show you directly.”
“…What do you—”
“Hah.”
Whoosh!
I wrapped my hand in ashen flames and brought it down against my neck.
Thud.
My head tumbled beneath the bed.
“-Ah.”
Camelia’s eyes widened in shock.
“Ah, u-uh.”
Trembling violently, Camelia couldn’t even manage a scream at the sight that defied all comprehension.
Before a stifled cry could escape her lips.
Whoosh.
The head that had rolled across the floor transformed into gray ash, then reformed atop my neck.
“What in the world is…?”
Camelia stared at my perfectly restored head, her mouth agape.
“How is it? An immortal body, right?”
“Wait, hold on.”
Camelia shook her head slowly, squinting her eyes shut.
“I must be so exhausted that I’m seeing things. After all, even with a demigod’s body, going two weeks without a single moment of sleep is simply too much….”
“Would you like me to demonstrate once more?”
“No! There’s no need to show me!”
Camelia shook her head urgently.
Had the confusion finally settled somewhat?
Camelia steadied her ragged breathing and gazed down at the ash scattered across the floor before speaking carefully.
“Do you truly possess an immortal body?”
“To be precise, I possess a blessing that resurrects me even in death. No matter how many thousands or tens of thousands of times I die.”
“….”
“This story might take a while—shall I bring something to drink?”
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
Camelia dragged a chair over and sat near the bed.
“Tell me. Everything about you.”
* * *
By the time I finished the long tale, the sky had already darkened.
“….”
A heavy silence descended upon the room.
Camelia, who had listened intently throughout, gazed at me and gently bit her lip.
“You….”
Her voice trembled faintly.
“Just how… how unfathomably much suffering have you endured?”
I had recounted the past events in the most composed tone possible, as though they were merely bygone matters.
Yet the content within them was filled with infinite anguish that could not be explained away by such a convenient phrase as ‘the past’.
Wandering alone through a ruined world for thousands of years in a body that could not even die?
Imagining the despair I must have felt during that incomprehensibly vast expanse of time sent a chill like a cold blade through my chest.
Thinking of Dale walking that endless life in solitude while writhing in agony, my throat tightened with a heavy emotion.
“It is the past.”
“How can you speak of it so simply…!”
“Then what should I do? Weep endlessly while trapped in memories of my previous life?”
“….”
Dale continued with a bitter smile on my face.
“I have been given an opportunity.”
A chance to gather up water already spilled.
To overturn a life that had been twisted, crushed, and trampled.
A single opportunity.
“I do not wish to lose that opportunity simply because of pain.”
“….”
Camelia’s eyes trembled visibly.
She parted her lips as though countless words pressed against them, then slowly shook her head with a sorrowful expression.
“…I see.”
With a soft nod, I reached out and gently caressed Dale’s cheek.
How could I possibly soothe the wounds hidden beneath this warm touch—wounds deep enough to chill the soul?
I could not even begin to fathom it.
“Now I understand why your lovers worry for you so deeply and cherish you so dearly.”
In an ordinary romantic relationship, a woman would rely unilaterally upon a capable, powerful man like Dale.
But this was different.
‘Rather than dependence… I find myself wanting to embrace and protect him.’
As one might drape their own coat over someone shivering in the cold.
The desire to wrap his suffering and despair in my arms, to comfort him, burned far stronger than any wish to lean upon him.
-I’ll yield my seat beside Dale to the Empress today.
Suddenly.
A conversation with the Saint before coming here flashed through my mind.
-Dale will likely say he’s fine, that he’s recovered now, but don’t accept his words at face value.
The Saint had continued with a bitter smile.
-That man… no matter how much he hurts, no matter how difficult or agonizing things become… he always tries to bear everything alone.
Bearing everything alone.
It was a way of life I knew all too well.
I need not look far—I myself had borne much alone to claim the throne of Empress.
‘But.’
How could anything I had borne possibly compare to what Dale carried?
If I had sacrificed for the Empire’s sake, Dale had endured countless deaths for all of humanity itself.
“I can guess what you’re thinking, but there’s no need for that expression.”
Dale shrugged as he observed my rigid form.
“I’m fine.”
“…”
How could he speak of being fine after enduring such things?
I bit my lip firmly.
How could he possibly be fine?
Had the Saint not already shown me the truth?
‘He cannot possibly be fine.’
He merely pretends to be.
Suppressing sorrow, crushing pain, trampling despair beneath his feet.
Walking endlessly onward on rotting, crumbling legs.
For the sake of what he bears.
“…Your Majesty?”
“When we are alone, there is no need for such formal titles.”
“Ah… then Camelia?”
“Drop the honorific.”
“Fine, then I’ll call you Cameliaaa~”
The key was to deliver it in the most sinister voice possible.
“…Just call me Camelia normally.”
Camelia pinched my cheek with a sullen expression.
Whether my teasing had worked or not, the gloomy atmosphere that had settled over us brightened considerably.
“Hmph. I can’t tell if you’re being considerate or just lacking… even now, you think of others.”
Camelia sighed and shook her head slowly.
Now I finally understood why the Saint had made that “I can’t take this anymore” expression whenever she spoke of Dale.
“Anyway, given the hour, you must be famished. I’ll bring something simple for you to eat, so wait a moment.”
Camelia walked briskly out of the Hospital and returned with a bowl of warm soup.
“You haven’t eaten anything for two weeks, so I prepared soup to make it easier for you to consume.”
“Oh, thank you. Did you make it yourself?”
“I don’t know how to cook.”
“Ah.”
Right.
What reason would the Empress have to cook with her own hands?
“…If you wish it, I’ll try to learn sometime.”
Camelia spoke softly, her gaze drifting away.
Finding her appearance rather endearing, I watched contentedly as she spooned the soup toward my mouth.
“Open your mouth.”
“….”
Soup fed to me by the Empress of the Empire herself.
I was experiencing luxuries I never thought I would.
“Does it suit your taste?”
“Yeah. It’s delicious.”
After two weeks without food, despite the broth not being particularly seasoned, my famished taste buds danced with joy.
“Well then, you’ve finished your meal, so now…”
I was about to tell her it was getting late and she should leave.
“Why are you wrapping things up as if all your business is done?”
Camelia rose from her seat, gently pushed my chest to lay me back on the bed, and then climbed on top of me.
“…Huh?”
Your Majesty?
“Didn’t we make a promise? That when the war ended, I would tell you everything about myself?”
“But you’ve been talking about it all day.”
“Hmph. There’s still one thing I haven’t shown you, isn’t there?”
With a languid smile, Camelia began to unfasten the patient gown I was wearing, one button at a time.
“W-Your Majesty?”
“Didn’t I tell you to call me Camelia?”
“No, well… I’m still a patient, you know.”
“It’s alright.”
Camelia drew close with a deep smile, her body pressing against mine.
“Leave everything to me… and simply lie still.”
Sweet whispers echoed against my ear.
Soft skin met mine as our lips converged.
‘Ah, so it comes to this after all.’
I had sensed it from the moment I heard Iris speak, but now that reality descended upon me, guilt for the others flooded my chest.
Yet it was fleeting.
“Hah….”
The tender sensation of our touching skin melted away the guilt like snow in spring.
‘I wonder if I’ll end up torn to pieces later.’
Dale becoming shredded to nothing.
‘No way.’
Lanez’s face suddenly crossed my mind.
‘…Surely not.’
Right?

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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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