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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Cyno
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The silence of the abyss flowed through the surroundings. Countless soldiers lay strewn across the earth, yet this eerie stillness remained unbroken.
It was a time of despair. The last remnants of humanity’s army had vanished meaninglessly before the overwhelming tide of destruction, and even the indomitable heroes who had fought until the end had fallen, screaming in the face of colossal ruin. All that remained now were the countless corpses littering the ground and bloodstained banners fluttering weakly in the wind.
And then there was me, dying.
I crawled desperately through the wreckage of bodies, pushing forward again and again. Though a gaping wound pierced my abdomen and blood continued to spill from my mouth, I refused to stop.
I had to find my beloved sword, Yozo—the one who had acknowledged me and stayed by my side until the very end.
Yozo was one of the sacred relics that had slumbered in the Hall of Divinity. Though it was nothing more than a nameless holy sword buried among countless lesser blades in the Bronze Vault, it had still recognized me as its master, transforming me into a Guardian—my one and only lifelong companion.
That was why I couldn’t abandon Yozo. In this age of ruin, all my subordinates, friends, and even lovers had turned their backs on me and left—but Yozo alone remained. So even in death, we had to be together.
“Yozo…!”
At my desperate call, a corpse in the distance trembled slightly. A headless corpse had no reason to move on its own—it had to be Yozo. A divine weapon always seeks its master as long as both still draw breath.
Summoning the last of my strength, I crawled with everything I had. Though the sword had been torn from my grasp by the monstrous strike of some colossal beast and sent flying into the unknown, Yozo was unharmed.
Yozo was an indestructible blade. Even as divine weapons shattered and broke before the tide of destruction, Yozo remained unscathed—not a single chip on its edge. It didn’t even need sharpening; its keenness never dulled. Sure, it couldn’t wield any holy magic and was dismissed as a third-rate weapon, but in the end, it was the only one that survived—the last hope of humanity.
The Flaming Sword of Sacred Blaze, Idron? The Divine Halberd of Radiance, Shaya? The Earth God’s Annihilating Mace, Vermond? Who needed them? Though revered as the greatest among the Seven Divine Arms, they shattered miserably before the flood of annihilation without even putting up much of a fight. Now, the only divine weapon left to protect humanity was Yozo, the unbreakable sword. Not that there’d be any humanity left to protect soon, anyway.
Finally reaching my destination, I slid my hand beneath the headless corpse of a young soldier. Beneath the cold flesh, I felt a sharpness that threatened to slice through my fingers. It was unmistakably Yozo. I could never forget this sensation.
“Yozo.”
With the last of my strength, I pulled Yozo free and hugged it tightly, overcome with emotion. The sword I thought I’d lost had returned to me in my final moments. As always, Yozo had not betrayed me.
Smiling faintly, I lay on my back and raised Yozo high into the air. Even in the face of impending death, I felt neither loneliness nor fear. Because Yozo was with me.
“Yozo… my turbulent life ends here, huh. Heh.”
Death approached like a dream. My vision darkened, and my consciousness grew so faint that it wouldn’t be strange if it simply flickered out at any moment. Had I been a paladin or a true Guardian capable of healing magic, I might have prolonged my life—but alas, I was merely a fake Guardian, chosen by Yozo and nothing more.
But don’t underestimate me. In this final battle, I had proudly claimed the title of the fourth-strongest warrior of humanity. Sure, it was only because all the truly legendary heroes had died in these days of ruin, but still—fourth out of hundreds of thousands wasn’t bad, right?
Thanks to that, despite being a lifelong ruffian, my final moments were glorious. The soldiers who followed me looked upon me with trust and respect, and the last remnants of humanity sent me off to the battlefield with hopeful praise.
With all those who had scorned and abandoned me dead in the chaos, I had become humanity’s last hope. I fought well, after all—and I was the heir of Archduke Karl, the Ironblood Chancellor of the Holy Yosrahim Empire, whose fame was unparalleled.
Bloodline? It might seem meaningless in the face of despair, but in times when hope is needed, it works wonders. So much so that there were even whispers that if humanity somehow survived this final war, I should be crowned emperor of a unified empire. Me—a former delinquent and scoundrel whose notoriety had once spread across the entire continent.
Funny how the most absurd things happen when the end is near.
I was a purebred rogue through and through. Even in death, I refused to change. Now that I had Yozo back, my mind was already conjuring fantasies of spending one last passionate night with a beautiful woman before I died. That should tell you exactly what kind of man I was.
Women, desire—and if I had to add one more, swordsmanship. That was all I knew. Throw in years of bloodshed on countless battlefields, and I’d become a cold-blooded killer to boot. Call it an upgraded version of my old self.
And so, I regretted. I resented my past self for cowering under my strict father’s shadow and never truly living. Worrying about others’ opinions? My father’s scornful gaze? The stern reprimands of my uncle, the exalted Emperor of Yosrahim? Why had I shackled myself with such trivialities? In the end, I was destined to suffer through this age of ruin and die like a dog anyway.
‘I want to live… Damn it…’
I wanted to live. Even if I’d been forced onto this battlefield by the demands of the era, if there had been even the slightest chance of survival, I would’ve gladly betrayed everyone’s expectations and fled without hesitation. There was nothing worth protecting besides myself. Humanity’s survival? The empire’s glory? Others’ faith in me? What use were any of those? Dead was dead.
*Whirr—*
Yozo trembled violently in my weak, pale grip, as if grieving its dying master. Such a loyal little thing. But it seemed our time together had come to an end. I wanted to wish it luck—to hope it would find a worthy master and achieve greatness—but soon, the last remnants of humanity would be wiped out by the forces of chaos and void. There was no future left for such blessings.
Yozo would likely remain here, alone, guarding this place long after my corpse turned to dust—until the day this land itself ceased to exist.
Feeling the fading beats of my heart, I exhaled my last breath. This was truly the end. My vision darkened, and even illusions of radiant light flickered before my closing eyes. Yes, this was it.
And so, I closed the book on this life. Damn it. Not just a life—this damn life. Shit!
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