Chapter 699

Epilogue - The Edge of the World

Since the new empire had proclaimed a law recognizing the landownership of the farmers who had cultivated the ruined land, groups of pioneers began to leave the city.

There were still many vacant lands where wild grasses swayed in the wind, and cautiously growing crops began to raise their heads in small farming villages.

While people from the rural areas had reasons to visit the city, there was no reason for city dwellers to visit these small villages.

On the southwestern edge of the continent.

It was an area that belonged to the safe zone, but it was neither a strategic stronghold nor a hub city. It was a medium-sized city, far from the empire's gaze.

Directly under imperial jurisdiction, Leonda.

In a small village, the residents consumed the crops they grew themselves to sustain their livelihood, and any surplus was sold in Leonda. Such villages had sprung up like mushrooms after the war.

In a nameless small farming village on the outskirts of Leonda, there was a stranger.

More of a vagrant than a guest, a certain man.

That man had been staying in an abandoned barn, empty ever since a cow raised in the village had died, for quite some time.

Beside the rotting straw, leaning against the barn wall, a man lay motionless as if dead.

"Mister!"

A girl with long, wavy brown hair came running towards the man.

"..."

The man slowly lifted his head, like a dying tree, to look at the approaching girl.

The girl, who had run all the way, extended her hand towards the man.

"Mister, you haven't eaten, have you?"

"..."

"Here, eat this. Mom said to give it to you."

In the girl's hand were three cold, steamed potatoes.

Mom said to give it to him.

That must have been a lie.

There was no village that would welcome a stranger like him.

The man stared at the girl for a moment and then took a potato and put it in his mouth.

"Here, I brought some water too."

A bite of potato.

A sip of water.

The man performed these actions slowly and deliberately, as if performing a ritual.

The girl watched curiously as the man ate the potato and drank the water.

The man, wearing a ragged cloak, ate the potato and drank the water with only his left hand.

His empty right shoulder, hidden beneath the tattered cloak, told the story.

The man had no right arm.

The girl patiently waited for the man to eat the three potatoes, one small bite at a time.

"Thank you."

With a brief word of gratitude from him, the girl took the empty water bottle with a bright smile.

In the distance, people carrying farming tools looked at the man in the barn and the girl talking to him, clucking their tongues.

‘Tsk. She won't listen no matter how much we talk to her.’

‘Shouldn't we give Sandy's mom a good talking-to?’

‘As if she would listen to any of that.’

‘Well, that's true…’

The muttering of the villagers reached not only the man's ears but also the girl's.

"Don't worry about it. Adults are scared of strangers, that's why they act like that."

"...I suppose so."

The man responded to the girl's words, which seemed more mature than those of the adults.

It was natural for the adults to be afraid.

A mysterious vagrant, lying in the streets.

Sandy had been the one to find the vagrant. She screamed at the top of her lungs, called the adults, and brought him back to the village.

The one-armed vagrant.

Despite the villagers' various questions, the stranger refused to reveal anything about himself.

He moved sluggishly, as if he were dying, or rather, as if he were already dead. His eyes lacked focus as well.

He appeared ominous, or perhaps afflicted by some terrible disease.

So, it was odd for Sandy to approach this menacing drifter.

While the village wasn't entirely inhospitable, nobody wanted to get close to the stranger.

After regaining consciousness in Sandy's home, the stranger complied with her mother's polite request to leave and took up residence in an abandoned barn on the outskirts of the village, spending his days sitting there.

Since then, he had been subsisting on potatoes, sweet potatoes, or pieces of bread that Sandy brought to him in secret.

Was he planning to just sit there indefinitely?

The villagers cast such glances at the drifter, who sat motionlessly in a corner of the barn.

The man barely moved throughout the day.

No one visited him except Sandy, and passersby wondered if he had died in that position.

Sandy was certainly an oddity.

None of the other children in the village approached the sinister drifter.

They speculated that he might be a ghost that devoured humans, or even a ghost itself.

Despite the children's warnings and the adults' scolding, Sandy continued to care for the stranger.

In this way, the stranger had occupied the village's barn for about two weeks.

By now, the villagers' patience was wearing thin, and they wished he would leave.

Of course, Sandy had no interest in such concerns.

The stranger, whom people suspected of being mute, had begun to utter very short sentences to Sandy.

After finishing her meal, Sandy smiled at the silent stranger and asked, "Do you know?"

"..."

"This barn smells like when it used to house cows."

"..."

"Even though there are no cows now, it still has a terrible smell."

His disheveled hair and messy beard made it inevitable that he would emit a foul odor, and the barn in which he was staying began to smell as bad as when cows were kept there.

"I suppose so."

The man responded simply to Sandy's words.

It smells terrible.

I see.

At this simple exchange, Sandy's eyes widened in surprise.

"…I meant that you should take a bath."

"…"

"There's a stream nearby."

The man didn't respond to all of Sandy's words.

By now, Sandy had somewhat understood.

The man was nearly deaf.

So when Sandy said something, the man would nod or shake his head without fully understanding the meaning of her words.

It wasn't just his hearing.

Sandy could now see that most of the man's senses were considerably dull.

The villagers didn't know.

It wasn't just his missing right arm.

His missing arm was the most noticeable, but his entire body was plagued by illness.

Sandy gripped the man's arm.

Their conversation was not hindered by his inability to understand.

"Let's go. I'll help you wash."

"…"

As Sandy pulled him with force, the man rose slowly but steadily from his seat.

It wasn't that Sandy had forced him up, but rather, he had no choice but to rise.

The man was suspicious, silent, and ominous.

In truth, upon closer and longer observation, Sandy knew that there was no one who listened as well as this man.

Sandy had always been considered an oddball in the village.

She would always go to places she was told not to, and do things she was warned against. If she was told she absolutely had to do something, she would refuse to do it.

She was like a contrarian frog.

The village children would grit their teeth at the mere mention of Sandy, having been victims of her pranks and tricks countless times since they were young.

Thus, it was inevitable that Sandy's parents had essentially given up on her.

However, this time seemed a bit more dangerous.

Sandy couldn't provide any concrete evidence as to why it was dangerous, but she had started to take care of a mysterious wanderer who was undoubtedly a risk.

Everyone tried to dissuade Sandy, but as always, her stubbornness only intensified her care for the wanderer.

She had even brought him to the riverbank and was washing him vigorously.

The wanderer submitted to Sandy's touch without resistance, as if he were an object.

She lathered his coarse hair with soap, scrubbing not only his head but also his face and beard.

It was as if a small mother was taking care of a big baby.

Take off your clothes.

......

Seeing Sandy trying to undress the man, a villager intervened, scolding her for going too far. Only then did Sandy stop her outrageous behavior.

"Aren't you ashamed, relying on a child to wash you because you can't do it yourself?"

The village woman yelled, recognizing that both Sandy and the man had their own issues.

"...I see."

But the wanderer only said that much.

"What a nasty fellow."

"Leave it, Auntie!"

In the end, the village woman could not continue her scolding and had to leave due to Sandy's persistent cries.

The next day.

Somehow, Sandy saw the man wearing clean, freshly washed clothes.

The next morning.

The man had washed and hung the dirty clothes out to dry. He was leaning against the wall of the barn.

"What, did you do it yourself?"

"...Yes."

At his brief response, Sandy gave a subtle smile.

Then, she vigorously patted the man's head.

As if to praise him.

"Good for you, mister, knowing how to wash yourself."

"...."

"...Did you not hear me teasing you?"

"...."

"I can't tell if you can hear me or not."

Sandy couldn't figure out what the man was thinking either.

Certainly, he had washed his clothes and body somewhere during the night, as the terrible stench was gone.

But his worn-out clothes and the unkempt, bothersome hair and beard remained the same.

Today, Sandy brought him some thin, baked bread.

"Don't hate my mom too much. She's just really scared."

"...."

"Since I'm not the one bringing food, she's even helping with your share, you know?"

"...I see."

Neither liking it nor disliking it.

Everyone has feelings they can't quite put into words.

Of course, Sandy's odd behavior and the mysterious wanderer were both disliked and feared.

It was pitiable to leave him to starve to death.

Sandy's mother couldn't stop her daughter's strange behavior, nor could she let her daughter go without food so she could give it to the vagrant. So, she reluctantly prepared enough food for Sandy to give the vagrant his share.

The villagers hoped the vagrant would disappear, but they didn't wish for him to die within the village.

So even though they were afraid of the vagrant and disapproved of Sandy's actions, they couldn't help but be impressed.

They had thought Sandy was just a reckless troublemaker, but they discovered another side of her – one that was kind and gentle.

And Sandy hadn't just brought bread.

Suddenly, she took a knife from her pocket.

"Sir, hold out your chin."

Sandy blinked her eyes and brandished the knife threateningly.

"..."

"I'll shave that ugly beard for you."

Of course, the man didn't seem frightened or flustered. He just stared at Sandy with dull eyes.

"I've seen my dad do it often, so I should be able to do it well."

Sandy grabbed the tip of the man's chin, and even when she pressed the knife against it, he showed no reaction.

"…Is this right?"

The girl, who had never shaved a beard before, hesitantly tilted her head as she tried to shave the man.

The man seemed indifferent or numb, just standing there blankly.

"Oh… It seems to be working somehow…"

Of course, the first-time shaving would not be smooth, and the knife was not even meant for shaving.

So it was bound to be clumsy.

As Sandy approached the man's face to shave his chin and neck, she soon discovered something strange.

"…Huh?"

It was only then that she noticed something hidden beneath the man's clothes on his neck.

A small silver chain connected to a loop.

At its center was a necklace with a crimson gemstone embedded.

It was clear at first glance that it was not just an ordinary gemstone. Instead of a simple crimson hue, the color swirled like a whirlpool within the gemstone.

"Sir… What is this…?"

Just as Sandy's curiosity led her to reach for the necklace.

Thud!

"Ouch!"

The man, who had been sluggish like a tortoise until now, roughly grabbed Sandy's wrist.

The man's previously blurry eyes found focus.

And he stared intently into Sandy's eyes.

"Don't touch it."

At that near-commanding, powerful warning, Sandy dumbly nodded.

"Uh, um… Yeah."

Even the rebellious Sandy couldn't help but nod furiously under the weight of the pressure in the man's words.

The man hid the exposed crimson gemstone necklace back under his clothes.

With a shaky feeling, Sandy resumed shaving the silent man's beard.

Of course, she was still clumsy.

"Hey! What are you doing?"

"Ah! You startled me!"

A villager, who had mistaken Sandy holding the knife to the man's neck for something else, shouted in shock. Startled, Sandy accidentally cut the man's cheek with the knife.

"Uh, um… Sir, I'm sorry…"

"…"

"Ma'am! You scared me!"

"Sandy! What dangerous thing are you doing? Can't you stop?"

Even as blood began to flow from the cut on his cheek, the man seemed to feel nothing, staring blankly into space.

In the end, Sandy had to call upon the village elder to disinfect the wanderer's wounds and apply a bandage.

She also used a knife to trim his excessively disheveled and tangled hair, tidying it up somewhat.

"Hmm..."

Sandy stared intently at the man after shaving his face and arranging his hair.

"...You're not an old man, but a younger brother?"

Seeming amazed, Sandy continued to gaze piercingly at the man's face.

However, what was even more astonishing was something else.

The man, who had reacted sensitively to the touch of the necklace without even touching it, remained unfazed despite his injuries.

What was that necklace?

Sandy couldn't help but grow more curious.

The man, who appeared to have nothing, wore a necklace that seemed mysterious and precious at a glance.

"Is that necklace some kind of incredible treasure?"

At Sandy's question, the man slowly turned his eyes to look at her.

"...No."

He didn't entirely ignore her question.

"Absolutely not."

With his eyes closed, the man leaned against the wooden wall of the barn.

"But it's more important than anything else in the world..."

That was the longest answer the man had given Sandy so far.

The most important thing in the world.

But it wasn't a treasure.

Sandy couldn't understand the man's words.

How could something be important but not a treasure?

If it's not a treasure, why is it the most important thing in the world?

Sandy laughed mockingly.

With a smile tinged with malice.

"Why would someone like you have the most important thing in the world?"

How could a dying wanderer on the side of the road have such a thing?

Having taken care of the wanderer up until now, Sandy felt entitled to make such a malicious joke.

At Sandy's words, the man stared blankly at the sky.

"...I don't know either."

Clearly, the man wore a faint, bitter smile.

Although she was taking care of him, she thought he was a very strange person.

Thinking this, Sandy gently stroked the man's hair, which appeared somewhat sad.

Swoooosh

On a day when the world seemed to be submerged in a torrential downpour.

There was a dreadful and miserable battle that nobody witnessed.

'For an old monster like me, this end is fitting...'

The last monster, his heart pierced by a golden spear, was actually delighted.

'In the only era when all five relics appeared, to die by having my heart pierced by the last relic... What an undeserved conclusion...'

Ludwig watched the last monster, which seemed happy to be killed, with wide eyes.

As he was dying.

The old monster crushed his own chest and took something out.

The old monster was smiling.

'Young man...'

'If you truly wish to become a hero...'

'You must take this...'

'This, if left alone, will bring ruin to the world...'

'But if you bear it, it will only bring ruin to you.'

'As long as you do not fall, as long as you endure, the world will be peaceful.'

'The Relic of Courage.'

'The relic that is said to grant the power to confront anything.'

'It will grant you the strength to bear it.'

'But it will never bestow upon you the power to surpass it...'

'Perhaps for your entire life, bearing this...'

'That will be the glory you must shoulder.'

'Destruction will befall you.'

'Perhaps, do you understand?'

'Whether you will find a way to completely annihilate this...'

'But such a day will probably never come.'

'O master of the final relic.'

'O apostle of courage.'

'You have won, but...'

'By winning, you are burdened with eternal destruction...'

'Carrying the yoke of sins committed by others, sins you have not committed, for your entire life.'

'That will be your fate...'

'And no one will remember you...'

'How can this be...'

'So bittersweet and...'

'Glorious and...'

'Miserable of an ending...'

The last monster vanished as if melting into the raindrops with a seemingly satisfied smile.

He had no choice but to take the crimson jewel that remained in the monster's place, even though he didn't know what it was.

The moment he took it, the man had an intuition.

That bearing this for the rest of his life would be his destiny.

He had won, but.

He knew that there was a price for victory.

From then on.

Every day was hell for the man.