Typemoon [439-440] (Patreon)

Chapter 439: My Drill Is the Drill That Will Pierce the Heavens

"Speaking of which, do we really not need to report Kadoc's desertion to the other Crypters?"

Ophelia asked.

"There's no need for that, because Kadoc's desertion has no impact on their work."

Kirschstalia said, "Pepe's Lostbelt has an Alter Ego following him, so the news will reach his ears sooner or later. Beryl's Lostbelt is about to disappear anyway; he's already exerting all his effort just to maintain it."

The Lostbelts belonging to the other Crypters basically had various issues, with Beryl Gut's Britain Lostbelt being particularly prominent.

"Beryl Gut—"

Upon hearing this, Ophelia murmured, "Can that man be trusted? He's a murderer who kills for pleasure, a criminal unworthy of being called human.

I don't think a killer despised by the Clock Tower as the 'Werewolf' can properly handle the task of expanding the Lostbelt."

Beryl Gut—that guy, whether in actions or words, deeply disgusted Ophelia, making him utterly unworthy of trust.

"That's within my considerations as well."

Kirschstalia said leisurely, "I appreciate him, Ophelia, because Beryl is a man skilled at self-deception. The more he hates a job, the more sincerely he completes it.

As for Kadoc's issue, handle it as you see fit, but it's best not to dwell on it. Focus on repelling Chaldea. That man appeared in Chaldea as a Servant, right?"

"Yes, one of the Alien Apostles, the Knight, appeared in Chaldea as a Servant and defeated my Servant."

Ophelia paused slightly and asked, "Is something like this really possible? Or is the Knight not a living person, but a possessing Servant like the priest?"

"No, he is indeed a living being."

Kirschstalia shook his head slightly and said, "Caenis's report has already mentioned it; the opponent is undoubtedly a Divine Age hero-level existence.

A great hero of the Divine Age in the 21st century—this is beyond doubt. As for his actions, Ophelia, you don't need to consider that. Just repel Chaldea. Even if he's in Chaldea, repel them all together."

"This is probably an idea from that all-purpose genius, Da Vinci."

Kirschstalia, seemingly recalling an old acquaintance, smiled faintly and said, "Because the priest failed to kill this genius, Da Vinci was captured by the Knight, forming another organization.

But Da Vinci won't abandon the original Chaldea; she'll definitely find ways to help Chaldea's remnants. The Knight becoming a Servant might be one such attempt.

But no need to worry; the Knight as a Servant won't pose much of a threat. Moreover, Caenis should be arriving at your side soon. You can let Caenis handle him then."

"Thank you for your consideration, but—"

Upon hearing that the divine spirit Caenis would arrive in the Lostbelt, Ophelia slightly widened her eyes and said, "But the divine spirit Caenis is not something I can control. If a conflict arises with the Lostbelt's king, please forgive me."

"It's fine. With you, there shouldn't be anything to worry about."

Kirschstalia said leisurely, "After all, in terms of combat power, you're an excellent student far surpassing me. Your eyes are a miracle that can even pierce through Servants.

The Clock Tower's rulers no longer exist in this world, so there's no need to fear others. Use your power as you wish, because your eyes will no longer be taboo."

"I will engrave your words in my heart."

Ophelia Pharmrsolone murmured, "I will be more careful."

No one knew better than her what Kirschstalia had sacrificed.

This loyalty was not built on air; it could only be extinguished by death.

"The Scandinavia entrusted to you is a rare and important Lostbelt. Though only one pillar remains, an old god still lingers."

Kirschstalia's gaze turned serious as he said, "And it's a benevolent divinity at that. I hope you can make her acknowledge and affirm the new world we pursue. I'm looking forward to your performance, Ophelia Pharmrsolone."

The conversation here was observed by a third party until it ended—the story that followed occurred after nightfall.

…

Beep beep.

The figure rising on the light screen was not Goredolf but Da Vinci-chan.

"Hm?"

Da Vinci-chan, looking left and right, asked, "Sir Alaric isn't here?"

She had finally freed up time to make the report personally, but not seeing Alaric made her curious about his whereabouts.

"Sir Alaric said he was continuing to scout the leylines' locations and left the village."

Mash explained, "He's been gone for three hours."

At the invitation of the girl Gerda, Fujimaru Ritsuka and Mash had settled into the house assigned to Gerda due to her sufficient age.

It wasn't until night fell that the communication from the Shadow Border rang again.

"I see. Then let's discuss first."

Seeing Alaric absent, Da Vinci-chan picked up another topic and said, "Back to the point: in this Scandinavian land, there are roughly three types of primates.

The primates here aren't defined by high intelligence or civilization holders, but by vitality and dominance.

With that premise, first are the tough predatory giant species; second are humans who can't survive outside villages; third are the so-called envoys and gods—at least, they are superior to humans.

Other things like ice beasts affiliated with the giant species won't be elaborated on. Straight to the conclusion."

Da Vinci-chan paused slightly and said, "Regrettably, in the Scandinavian Lostbelt, humans absolutely cannot be called the primates of all things. On the contrary, humans are the lowest-tier creatures.

I don't know if Sir Alaric mentioned this to you, but these humans seem like they're being farmed, like hamsters placed in a cage by gods."

"Farmed bottom-tier creatures—"

Mash's eyelids drooped, her expression heavy.

Da Vinci-chan continued, "I think it's inadvisable to consider humans as combat power here. Their civilization and magecraft are probably underdeveloped.

They have no need to develop; when danger comes, they basically wait to die."

…

In an uninhabited realm, Alaric walked alone, holding a drill of light, charging downward in a wildly serene posture.

He had left the village—or rather, Alaric had never truly left the village.

To avoid the influence of the external ice and snow mana, Alaric chose an extremely risky method of excavation, starting from Village 23 and advancing downward.

As depth increased, the pressure crushing toward Alaric rose rapidly, making the excavation cost quickly exceed the mana Alaric replenished from the scraped earth.

But this didn't make Alaric stop—

"My drill is the drill that will pierce the heavens!"

Chapter 440: Valkyrie

"That shouldn't be—"

As dawn arrived, Alaric, who had been busy all night, squatted at the entrance of Village 23, suspiciously looking at the drill in his hand.

Leylines are the planet's veins, with mana flowing through them as the planet's ether. Even if surface interference from ice and snow mana prevented finding the leylines, why was it still like this after going underground?

If everything was normal, only one possibility remained—

'Am I just unlucky?'

Alaric, who had worked all night with no gains, couldn't help doubting himself. Was it purely that Village 23 avoided the leylines below?

After thinking for a while without results, Alaric dispersed the light drill, clapped his hands, and stood up.

"Hm?"

Suddenly hearing a commotion, Alaric's brow twitched. Turning, he saw several adult men and women approaching the gate, surrounded by children.

"Congratulations! Congratulations!"

"Everyone has safely lived until today! And thank you for taking care of us all this time! It's all thanks to the gods' blessings!"

"Remember to say hello to everyone over there, since only three people went last year—"

The cheers of boys and girls intertwined, celebrating this memorable day.

Children holding flowers joyfully presented them to the young men and women about to embark on their journey, saying, "Here, take this. It's flowers the boys grew together. Decorate with them over there!"

Hearing this, a giggling girl nearby immediately objected, "Hey! The girls helped grow them too! Geez, idiot!"

"You can't call people idiots."

The boy puffed his cheeks and said, "Today is a day we can't say bad words."

One word after another, the group approached the gate where Alaric stood, with the only exit from the village behind him.

Alaric also noticed Fujimaru Ritsuka and Mash approaching from behind, with the girl Gerda among them.

'Is this the big event Gerda mentioned?'

Alaric's gaze swept over the approaching crowd. The young men and women stood out, at least twenty years old, neatly dressed, holding flowers—

This made Alaric raise his brow. Since entering the village yesterday, aside from his own senses, he hadn't seen these youths; they seemed to have been hiding in houses preparing something else.

If he remembered correctly—

"Thank you, everyone, thank you."

The young man holding flowers smiled, "We're very happy to receive everyone's bouquets."

"That's right, yes, yes, it's true."

The woman, eyes teary, said emotionally, "I'm glad we could follow the gods' will and raise you into good children. Even if we go ahead, you all must get along well.

We'll wait for the day you can come to the same place.

...Everyone, take care."

Mash, witnessing this scene, immediately said, "These are the adult residents we didn't see yesterday—several young men and women, receiving something from the children.

Ah, Sir Alaric is at the gate."

"Is he playing door god?"

Fujimaru Ritsuka, tiptoeing to look at the gate, asked curiously, "Don't door gods come in pairs?"

Though he didn't hear Fujimaru Ritsuka's quip, Alaric still felt the offensive gaze.

"Yes, these are flowers the children spent half a year growing together."

Gerda beside them explained, "You can't go without those bouquets."

"Eh, what happens if you don't have those bouquets?"

Mash asked curiously.

"Without them, you can't smoothly go to Valhalla."

Gerda smiled, "Only souls holding proof of being loved by others can go to Valhalla. A long, long time ago—so long no one can count—the gods decreed it."

"..." Hearing this, Fujimaru Ritsuka, who had been watching the excitement, turned her head, expression hesitant, and said, "Gerda, you don't mean—"

Even Fujimaru Ritsuka knew the meaning of Valhalla.

"Valhalla—"

Mash, seeming to understand something, said dazedly, "Valhalla is the paradise in Norse mythology, also known as the Hall of the Slain.

The great god's palace, the warriors' hall, Valhalla.

Only souls selected by the great god Odin's messengers, the Valkyries, can go there. Naturally, it's not a place the living can reach."

Valhalla is a grand hall within the divine realm of Asgard, ruled by Odin, king of the Aesir gods. Legendary heroes and kings also come to Valhalla.

Odin, who governs war, commands the Valkyries to go to mortal battlefields, selecting half of the slain warriors to bring here, while the other half goes to goddess Freyja's Sessrúmnir. Those who don't die in battle go to the underworld ruled by Hel.

In short, it's the destination of the dead.

"So, the special day Miss Gerda mentioned."

Mash showed reluctance but still said, "Could it be referring to—"

The day adults reaching twenty-five years old leave the village.

And leaving the village means facing the external giants, awaiting death's arrival.

"I need to thank you even more."

Gerda said seriously, "Mash-sama, Fujimaru Ritsuka-sama, if I'd been crushed by the giant then, I wouldn't have received a bouquet, and my soul would wander endlessly.

That way, I couldn't go to Valhalla, so—"

…

Alaric, standing at the gate, watched the crowd arrive. The devout young men and women offered prayers to the closed gate.

Witnessing this moment of parting, Alaric understood the difference in this civilization.

Not a normal human society structure; the grace of nurturing is, for the children, a blessing from the gods. The young men and women who bore and raised them merely play the roles of big brothers and sisters.

There is no special familial bond, so at this special moment of farewell, everyone can sincerely offer congratulations.

"Envoys, envoys."

The adults arriving at the gate said with utmost devotion, "Let us follow the gods' will and offer everything—"

Time passed second by second, until boundless holy light fell from the high heavens.

The voice from the sky conveyed the gods' will, an absolute transmission of divine might.

"People, people, today is the day of selection."

"People, your lives will be reaped today."

The ethereal declaration seemed to state the world's sole truth, as if proclaiming love from the one true god.

"This is love; you should understand. This is the hand of love extended by the sole god remaining on earth.

People, people, bow your heads, praise the ice, snow, and radiance."

The heavenly light blazed brightly, the vast divine might reaching everywhere, bringing the gods' love.

Those gazing from the earth to the sky, at this moment, glimpsed the figure hanging high in the heavens.

"Valkyrie—"