Chapter 270: Freely Imagine, That Ideal Shiltina
Just a moment ago, the evening sky had still been filled with fiery-red clouds.
But in the next instant, dense nightfall had already spread across the heavens.
It was darkness deeper than the abyss.
At this moment, like the night sky itself, it softly enshrouded this broken little world, together with those Gravekeeper Angels at the edge of the distant horizon… and swallowed them whole.
Behind Tuck, the place where the three Gravekeeper Angels had originally stood was now entirely consumed by darkness, leaving only twisted, void-like vortices of Eternal Night.
Boom—
Boom—
From within the dark vortex that had devoured all light came thunderous, world-shaking roars from time to time. They were the Gravekeeper Angels unleashing their might, attempting to break free from the Eternal Night whirlpool.
But it was useless.
Every impact, every collision, was swallowed by that vortex of Eternal Night, only to be drowned in nothingness.
“Shiltina… what have you done?”
Tuck’s horrified voice echoed above the silent cluster of palaces.
Only seconds before, he had been full of confidence, convinced that Shiltina had already fallen into the trap carefully woven by him and the Gravekeepers. He was merely waiting for the plan to end so that he could join the Gravekeepers and gain true Eternal Immortality.
Yet in only a few dozen seconds, the situation had completely reversed.
The powerful reinforcements he relied upon—the Gravekeepers—were now still trapped inside that whirlpool of Eternal Night.
Leaving only himself, all alone, to face that blood-drenched swordswoman.
“You lost the Holy Sword, and you also lost the Sovereign Domain’s blessing that came with being the Empress… You have not even reached the rank of Angel.”
“Now, you are nothing more than an utterly ordinary Legend, without anything special to set you apart…”
“Such Legends are hardly rare across the entirety of humanity’s seven epochs of history.”
He looked back toward the vortex that had swallowed the Gravekeepers and consumed all light.
“But how is this possible?”
Even if Shiltina had transcended the rules of the Nightworld, and forcibly wielded her Nightblade—“Infinite Blade”—in this subsidiary dimension cut off entirely from the outside, unable to draw upon the Nightworld’s connection…
With Shiltina’s rank being no more than that of a Legend, how could she possibly restrain three Gravekeeper Angels with a single strike?
“There is nothing impossible about it.”
Though her entire body was soaked in blood, even her pure-white knight’s attire was drenched red until only crimson remained…
Yet at this moment, Shiltina’s light-brown eyes shone all the brighter, like clear and radiant stars.
“What I have strived to imagine, what I have pursued…”
“Was never merely that so-called ‘Angel’ attained through the Holy Sword, through the Sovereign Domain’s blessing, through the title of Empress.”
“Perhaps in your eyes, Teacher Tuck, the rank of ‘Angel’ is the supreme thing you have yearned for your entire life, a symbol of Eternal Immortality, the stepping stone to transcendence.”
“As long as one could ascend to Angel, then no matter how many shortcuts were taken, no matter the extent of borrowed external power… all of it was worth it.”
“But—”
Shiltina’s voice paused.
“To me, such a thing is worthless.”
“What I want to become… is an existence that can overcome every obstacle and hardship.”
“When faced with the Trolley Problem, I want not to be forced into a binary choice, but to have the strength to step onto the tracks and overturn the train entirely.”
“If I cannot even defeat a few antiques who just woke from millennia of slumber and have not yet recovered their prime power…”
“Then how could I ever claim to become one who needs to abandon neither ‘ideals,’ nor ‘love,’ nor ‘duty’—”
“One who truly transcends all rules.”
She gently stroked the rapier in her hand, as black as night itself, its hilt a deep azure.
By now, the rapier was already shattered, only barely holding its final form.
“My first Crest Equipment, ‘Shimmering Morning Star’… upon True Name Liberation, it unleashed dazzling aurora that burned away everything.”
“As the name suggested, before the brilliance of the Morning Star, all things hidden in shadow could not escape, and only annihilation awaited under that light.”
“But after ‘Shimmering Morning Star’ shattered, the ‘Sword of the Night Sky’ left to me by Flan was different.”
“Flan said that I had been too obstinate, too unyielding, never knowing rest or compromise.”
“Like a sword long used in battle, with countless nicks and cracks, its metal fatigue already past its limits, yet still never stopping to recover… If I kept going like that, one day I would inevitably shatter.”
“So, the attribute of the ‘Sword of the Night Sky’ Flan left me was not ‘Destruction’ like the ‘Shimmering Morning Star,’ but ‘Protection.’”
“To envelop this sorrowful, broken world gently like the night sky.”
Shiltina gazed at the vortex that seemed woven from night at the far end of the heavens:
“Likewise, all enemies that threaten my life will also be trapped within this boundless night sky, thereby becoming my protection.”
“Though, knowing your nature, Teacher, you likely never bothered to study this Crest Equipment of mine.”
Looking at the broken Sword of the Night Sky in her hand, Shiltina smiled faintly.
“Though it is a keepsake left to me by Flan…”
“In your eyes, it was nothing but a common Crest Equipment, the kind even a low-ranked Extraordinary of the third or fourth tier could possess.”
Tuck said nothing.
Just as Shiltina said, in preparing the hunt for her, the Gravekeepers and Tuck had gathered much intelligence concerning her. Yet the focal point of all intelligence on her weapons had always fallen upon the Holy Sword.
Both the Gravekeepers and Tuck, as a member of the Imperial Family, were well aware of the power of the Star-Forged Holy Sword. They knew that with the Holy Sword fully unsealed, even if she was only a Legend, Shiltina could contend with Angels.
Thus they had meticulously crafted this hunt, using the Gravekeepers’ relics from the Age of Gods to execute their plan, seizing the chance when Shiltina did not carry the Holy Sword on her person to seal her in this subsidiary dimension… cutting off her link with the Holy Sword, rendering her unable to draw upon its power in this small world.
But they had never researched the sword at her waist.
Even though Shiltina never parted from it, always wearing it at her side… it was dismissed as nothing more than an ordinary Crest Equipment, a mere gift left to her by a low-tier Extraordinary of the third or fourth tier.
In battles between Legends and Angels, it held no research value.
Yet now, this very weapon deemed worthless by the Gravekeepers had sealed away three Angels at once, confining them in the deepest night.
“But even so, what meaning does that have?”
Tuck took a deep breath, regaining his composure.
Though surprised that Shiltina, cut off from the Nightworld and deprived of its blessings, could still wield her Nightblade…
In the end, all that the Sword of the Night Sky could do was ‘Protect’ and ‘Isolate,’ not ‘Kill.’
“Even if you use this sword to isolate the Gravekeeper Angels in the deepest night sky.”
“How long can such True Name Liberation last?”
“Three minutes, or five minutes?”
“No matter what, once this ‘Protection’ dissipates, the Gravekeepers will break free from the seal of night… and then, your situation will be no different from before.”
His gaze turned cold again:
“Nothing more than an ugly struggle for survival… mere stalling for time.”
“But, Teacher…”
Answering him were Shiltina’s still-clear words, though she was bathed in blood.
“All I need is these three minutes.”
A chill shot through Tuck’s heart.
Only now did he suddenly realize—
Though her body was drenched in blood, covered in wounds large and small, though she could not heal without the Scabbard’s protection and her life force was being continuously drained…
Though her aura was constantly weakening, the reflection of life slowly slipping away after being hunted by Angels…
At this moment, grievously wounded and on the verge of death, Shiltina’s light-brown eyes held not a trace of fear.
On the contrary, what filled them was excitement and anticipation so strong it could not be hidden.
“Father… My nature was indeed never suited to being an Empress, but rather to being a swordswoman who fights to the death on the very front lines.”
Shiltina stretched out her hand, slowly brushed across her cheek, then gently licked the blood-stained finger.
Stimulated by that thick scent of blood, her once-dignified face, at this moment, under the reflection of blood, clearly carried a trace of madness.
During the past two years, after regaining the identity of Imperial Princess and being chosen as successor to the throne, Shiltina had been constantly restraining and suppressing her true nature.
No longer fighting at the forefront of the Night Travelers in conquering the Nightworld, but instead appearing as a princess at grand banquets and at meetings with high-ranking nobles… negotiating with lords and foreign envoys with false civility, handling daily mountains of political and military documents.
This was the path Shiltina had chosen herself, and the heavy duty and mission she had chosen to bear.
So she would never regret it. Even if it went against her very nature, Shiltina was determined to walk the path of kingship to the very end with full responsibility.
Yet Shiltina knew that by going against her own nature like this, she could never ascend to the ideal “Angel” in her heart.
Her unique road as a Legend had been clear from the very beginning—that was to cut down with one strike and crush to dust everything that blocked her path, just like a War Chariot.
To perfectly ascend to Angel, she could not betray her true self.
For Rast, for Shiltina’s father Allen… if they wished to ascend to Angel, they could quietly break through—after all, Rast and Allen were never berserker types, but rather the sort who had long been accustomed to hiding in the shadows, moving only after thorough planning.
But Shiltina was different.
From the moment she became Extraordinary, she had always walked through battles of blood and fire, life and death hanging by a thread.
Just as her sequence of “War Chariot” revealed, that was her true origin—not from the Holy Sword, not from the Sovereign Domain, not from the Nightworld’s blessing… but from the very root of Shiltina as a human being.
So, this was Shiltina’s own choice.
What she longed for was precisely such a life-and-death dead end.
And in this desperate dead end—to completely transcend herself, to truly ascend as Angel.
“Three minutes.”
Shiltina sheathed the broken Sword of the Night Sky.
Then, ignoring Tuck, who was solemnly observing her from afar, she gently closed her eyes.
Three minutes.
That was the most conservative estimate of how long the Gravekeeper Angels could break free from the sword’s seal.
And also the deadline Shiltina set for herself.
To use these three minutes, as her broken body lingered on the verge of life and death, to truly touch that threshold within… and break through, ascend as Angel.
This was truly to be reborn after stepping into the dead.
Ordinarily, a Legend needed centuries of accumulation, endless attempts and failures over countless years, before finally ascending as Angel.
If the boundary between Legend and Angel were that easily crossed, the Angels among the Gravekeepers would not be so rare… They were an organization from the Age of Gods, where everyone at minimum was a Legend.
Failure once, even failure dozens of times, was common for Legends attempting ascension.
But Shiltina left herself no retreat.
She had only this single chance, within three minutes.
If she failed to ascend, then the Gravekeepers would break free again, and all that awaited her was death in battle.
Yet this was her chosen path.
If she could not crush all head-on but instead sought shortcuts to avoid risk, then “War Chariot” would no longer be “War Chariot.”
“So—”
“Empty the body and spirit.”
“Forget the throne, forget the Holy Sword, forget the Gravekeepers about to break free…”
“And then, freely imagine—”
The flow of blood still continued.
But Shiltina’s life-flame, once like a flickering candle in the wind, ready to go out at any moment, suddenly contracted.
Then, it blazed anew.
“The future me who has transcended all limits.”
“Neither the so-called ‘once-in-a-millennium Holy Sword Wielder of the Stars,’ nor the so-called ‘Empress of the Granwell Empire’…”
“But ‘Rast’s wife,’ who fulfilled the wish of becoming a Forester—”
“The ideal Shiltina.”
Shua—
Though her hand held no sword, at that moment, a sword-light as silver-white as snow slashed out.
Her soul-flame, already near collapse, was compressed further.
The condensed sword-light slashed like a lightning bolt, cleaving through the distant palace cluster, reaching straight into nothingness beyond.
“Shiltina… is she truly going to break through?”
“In a life-and-death crisis, to ascend with the most perfect posture, becoming the Angel of the ‘War Chariot’ Sequence that transcends all rules?”
Far away, Tuck’s pupils shrank.
He had never imagined that the abyss between Legend and Angel—that barrier he had spent centuries and hundreds of attempts trying to cross in vain…
Now seemed about to be crossed by Shiltina in mere three minutes.
If Shiltina truly ascended as Angel…
Even after the three Gravekeepers broke free, would they still be her match?
The thought had only just arisen when Tuck instinctively wanted to act.
At this moment, the Gravekeeper Angels were cut off outside the night barrier created by the Sword of the Night Sky, and Shiltina was racing against time to ascend.
Among those present, only he could still move freely.
Though he had failed to ascend and thus sought aid from the Gravekeepers, Tuck was still a Legend with centuries of accumulation.
In terms of accumulation at the Legend stage, he should far surpass Shiltina, who had yet to truly ascend.
Besides—
Shiltina was gravely wounded, at the most critical point of ascension. Even if she still had awareness of her surroundings, her focus must be divided, her perception weakened.
And compared to Shiltina, who had lost the Holy Sword and the Scabbard, Tuck was perfectly prepared—his body unharmed from their earlier clash, and armed with killing tools and even a few Gravekeeper relics for emergencies.
By every measure, this was the best moment for Tuck to strike Shiltina during her ascension attempt.
Even if he failed to kill her, as long as he disrupted the process and delayed until the Gravekeepers returned… the outcome would be settled.
But Tuck stood frozen.
A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple.
He would die.
He would die.
He would die.
This was the instinct of a Legend—an unmistakable and overwhelming warning.
If he attacked that seemingly defenseless swordswoman now… he would die, without question.
If it were Shiltina, even if she received such a warning, she would still strike without hesitation.
But Tuck could not.
It was because he feared death, because he longed for Eternal Immortality, because he clung to survival… that he had betrayed his past as a Guardian of the Empire and colluded with the Gravekeepers.
By now, he had long forgotten his youthful resolve to fight through blood and fire… his craving for longevity had become a curse, an obsession that had bound him for five centuries.
“The Nightblade is the manifestation of a Night Traveler’s ‘Mental Image Landscape,’ a power born from the spirit.”
“It is not that one is strong because they possess a Nightblade, but rather, because one has a strong heart, they can wield a Nightblade.”
Tuck suddenly remembered these words.
It was what he himself had said twenty years ago when teaching a young Shiltina, now returned to him by his own student.
So.
Though once also a Night Traveler, unable to use a Nightblade anymore… had he long since lost the heart of a true strong one?
No wonder the barrier of protection woven by the Sword of the Night Sky had cut off the Gravekeeper Angels, yet never cut him off.
So, in Shiltina’s heart, he did not even count as an “enemy”?
At that instant, Tuck lost all courage to strike at Shiltina.
Even if she was defenseless, even if she was covered in wounds.
But that did not mean Tuck would sit still and watch her ascend.
“Fortunately, I had prepared another trump card from the very beginning.”
“A trump card outside the Gravekeepers.”
He exhaled deeply.
At this moment, Tuck was immeasurably thankful that he had kept one last hand, perhaps one that could reverse the entire battle.
In his hand, a sculpture of black iron, exuding an eerie aura, quietly appeared.
“Your Fantasia Collapse earlier already shattered your Sword of the Night Sky, didn’t it?”
“Now, you have no further cards to play. Only one Angel-level force is needed to defeat you.”
From above, Tuck looked down at Shiltina:
“Though the Gravekeeper Angels are cut off…”
“But what if it is not the Gravekeepers… but the Lord of Twilight who created the Iron Cross Plague in the Sixth Era?”
“A half-incarnation of an Evil God’s Descent in full descent is no weaker than an Angel.”
As he spoke, Tuck had already begun chanting.
It was the hymn of Descent.
“O supreme, great Lord of Twilight, Serpent of Dawn and Dusk…”
……