I Am a Low-Class Aristocrat of a Perishing Country - I Am a Low-Class Aristocrat of a Perishing Country chapter 82

82 – Long-cherished wish (1)

The first emperor, Astelnerca, had an eye for fate. The power to freely handle ties and disconnections made him the most advantageous person in the world.

Since returning from the past life of Netion Peace, meaningless assumptions have been swirling in my head.

If only I could see the fate, I wouldn’t choose the path to get entangled with the bad relationship.

Wouldn’t it have yielded better results by twisting fate?

For example, it is not a hostile relationship with you who appeared proudly, but a relationship as a fellow countryman.

“I wondered why there was no message, was it just a late arrival?”

“Since then, you’ve been running around in a hurry from the Vando Islands?”

“The security was strengthened that much, but they were hiding in the island again? These aren’t homemade cockroaches…”

“It’s a sale that’s hard to refute.”

At first glance, it was a discourse that felt even savory intimacy. In fact, I had heard that I was unhappy, but for some reason, the hostility was faint.

‘The guy’s atmosphere is also strange. It’s like looking at clear water.’

It is distinctly different from the Siegharun I’ve seen so far.

There is no depth to be called a secular master, and to hide his ulterior motives, he seemed despondent.

It is questionable what kind of change of heart occurred, but the conclusion comes back to one.

Sereung.

Zeegharun draws his sword. The spirit’s blood, which is incompatible with immortality, was not covered. On the other hand, I gather morale without any weapons.

Shaaa…

A pitch-black aura drenched the earth. Realizing the meaning, Siegharun’s new model becomes blurry like a mirage.

In the fog-like landscape, ruby-like eyes radiated.

Zeuong!

Zeke Harun lowers his body and attacks swiftly. The sharp blade was blocked by the round shield and made a sharp metallic sound.

It was a familiar weapon that resembled a shield. A great sword that was the symbol of the ancestors of the Duke of Chester and the main weapon of Netion Peace. The bizarre appearance is funny.

The work that sculpted the land with the magic of Cheonbyeon Manhwa was solid. Bartlante’s sword is wrapped in ominous energy, expressing its presence.

I drew the sword with ease, as if handling a weapon that I had been accustomed to for a long time. The simple trajectory contained simple yet overwhelming destruction.

The heavy mass of the sword cut the furrows under Siegharun’s feet and collapsed.

In response to the unexpected response, Siegharun wriggled his eyebrows and expressed his bewilderment.

The number of things to keep your spirits up.

As a matured spirit, it fights with its unique technique alone.

“Slashing ghosts.”

Atmospheric spiritism sharpened the wind. A sword strike with an unclear shape similar to Ir Elfi’s intangible sword came flying.

The blades rushing in regardless of front, back, left and right were guillotines that did not tolerate coincidences.

I gave up on avoiding it. He faced death by entrusting himself to the blade of the wind.

Facet, Seeit! Awesome!

On the cut surface, black blood contaminated with porcelain splattered. The impure blood that seeped into the earth boiled and conceived a beast.

Hex – The Fifth Trumpet.

Strange beasts with no uniformity attack Siegharun.

Agile and tenacious, the Black Beasts were spiritual creatures comparable to Zeke Harun’s mobility.

At this, Siegharun stopped evading. His figure, calmly accepting the beasts, was like a rock with shadows.

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Puong!

Beasts of witchcraft burst out in an instant. Siegharun, wrapped in the blood of a red spirit, loftyly sought the center.

“Did they all explode with anti-elasticity…”

It is not a physical blow because it is strictly spirit art. It is a good idea to subdue the explosion for additional strikes at once.

Definitely great. The agility and transforming elemental magic that drove me away. There, the quality of the user is outstanding. It was an activity worthy of an all-rounder character.

The battle continued with changing aspects. We shared one emotion while repeating the one-step battle.

Maybe it’s my misunderstanding.

However, the more the metal sound of the weapon reverberated, the more confidence grew.

‘There is no tension.’

The desperation of being on the defensive. And the desire to achieve justice by any means. Nothing could be found in Siegharun.

It’s like a child screaming at you to throw your life away and let it happen.

The identity of the emotions we shared was futile.

Kaang-!

Ziek Harun’s sword flew towards the noon sun. I pointed my sword at the nape of his neck and glared at him in silence.

A sense of incongruity took shape in the conclusion that did not even give a sense of achievement. Rather, this moment when the disarming was completed created extreme tension.

I was afraid of a missed counterattack, so I activated my senses. What I heard then was a feeble admission of defeat.

“It’s amazing, Marquis. Did you hide your power during the subjugation of Iru Elfi Yustiha?”

“It’s hard to understand even if I tell you.”

“Is that so?”

In the first place, when I experienced my past life, I didn’t think I would lose. It was because this body was a monster that even the hero and saint could not handle.

There is only one miscalculation. It was to the extent that he had not predicted that Siegharun would be defeated so easily.

“What are you doing?”

“Trope said the same thing.”

“Trope? The head of the family has already committed suicide.”

“That’s the pants boss. The real thing is different.”

“Huh?”

Surprising information is pouring in. It was Zeke Harun’s detached attitude that stimulated a more reluctant sensibility.

As soon as I exert my strength here, Zeke Harun’s head will fly off. The person who knew that better than anyone else talked casually like a gentleman having tea time.

“Why is it strange that I have no rebellion, Marquis?”

“…”

I’m sure I took the initiative, but Zikharun’s meaningful attitude blurs the image. It induced me to constantly remind myself of any important elements I missed.

Ziekharun laughs as if he saw through him.

“Don’t worry too much. It’s just that I’ve lost my lingering attachments.”

“Resentment?”

“I’m not doing this because I want to hate myself. I cooperated because I had to.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should go so far as to stick to a renegade group planning a war.”

“That’s because everyone’s way of living is different.”

“Don’t play with words, Siegharun.”

“It was a serious answer. As a possessor, I lived to fulfill Siegharun’s long-cherished wish. Now I just realize that’s impossible.”

Zeke Harun miserably self-helped and brought his neck belt to the blade. Drops of red blood run down his collarbone from the cracks in his fragile skin.

I inadvertently moved the sword to the side. Siegharun laughed as if this was within the scope of his assumption.

“Feita is anxious to destroy the empire. That is Lorian Peita’s long-cherished wish.”

“It’s obvious. I understand.”

If Netionpeace’s predictions in past lives had come true, Lorian’s future would have been bleak.

Her third emperor, Asar, must have persecuted her and her child. If not, a direct descendant of Lorian…

In other words, the old man’s descendents must have continued the generations.

“There are no fools. 400 Years of hate-stained customs have distorted wills and turned long-cherished wishes into illusions. Not knowing that Lorian Feita’s long-cherished wish is impossible to achieve.”

Zeakharun mumbled despondently as if he were going to a confession. He stubbornly confessed as if it didn’t matter to anyone listening to the circumstances.

“I am also the same. Feita and I thought our longings overlapped, so we held hands. No, in a sense, true longings have a common denominator. Of course, they even shared the fact that they were impossible.”

“Is it a long-cherished wish…”

I’ve always been curious. What Peita and Siegharun truly desire. What tragedy took root at the beginning of a chain of hatred passed down through generations.

“What the hell is your long-cherished wish… You’re trying to be vicious like this.”

“If you’re a trough guy, you’ll answer with a vengeance.”

“Revenge. That’s natural.”

“It’s just a trope’s position.”

“Hmm.”

The general outline can be inferred. It is an established fact that the actions of Asar Euglinus put pressure on Lorian. It must have been because it was written in the personal letter sent through Siegharun.

But 400 years have passed. Was Lorian’s resentment strong enough to destroy a world where not even a trace of that time remained?

Is the truth hidden behind the scenes so harsh?

“Yes… That’s the position of the trough. It’s a mass of sad words that have lost their original form due to blindness.”

“Could it be that Lorian’s long-cherished wish wasn’t revenge?”

“hahahaha.”

He laughed briefly, but it was a pleasure-less firing. The empty, flat eyes supported the bitter feeling.

Soon after, a single tear rolled down from Siegharun’s red eyes. I was so shocked that I almost let go of the sword in my hand.

“Hey you…?!”

“You know, Marquis.”

He asked in a calm voice.

“If it were Marquis. What would it be like to be left alone in a world where no one knows, the scenery is completely different, and there is no connection?”

“…”

Ziekharun’s eyes were fixed on the sky. The unfocused, ruby-like eyes stared at the distant altitude.

Only Siegharun will know what kind of landscape will be at the end.

Clouds swam in the blue sky riding the breeze. As if boasting the waves of time that never stop.

Our time was like that too.

In the unstoppable flow of time, Zeke Harun’s heavy lips contained the truth.

“Lorian Peita’s true long-cherished wish was consideration.”

Caring.

It was a warm word with just an echo.

It wasn’t something heinous like revenge, it was altruism for someone.

“Because the demon had heartbreaking hopes.”