Chapter 207: Centuries of Silent Suffering

The nightmare of Old Ashvarn had finally come to an end, bringing with it a salvation some had waited far too long to see.

Ethan witnessed the end from atop a towering hill overlooking the entire ancient city, while the surviving hunters watched from within the remains of the cathedral.

Chai and Alicia gazed up at the artificial sky, their faces showing profound relief as they realized that their strange fellow hunter had succeeded in defeating the final boss.

"He did it..." Moon whispered, her voice barely audible as she raised her head toward the sky.

Nothing had changed in the heavens above them, yet somehow, everyone could feel that the curse was gone. It was as though an enormous weight had finally been lifted from their shoulders.

The bearer of the Phoenix Blessing sat with her legs folded beneath her, resting the head of an exhausted old man upon her lap.

Asterion had undoubtedly suffered the most during the final battle. His body had sustained a horrifying number of injuries, particularly the gaping wound in his chest and the loss of his left hand.

For a moment, the Uncrowned Emperor looked like a lifeless corpse.

But his chest still rose and fell occasionally, and faint breaths escaped through his mouth and nose, proving that he was still alive.

That alone was nothing short of a miracle.

Luna stood before her grandfather, who lay with his head resting on her sister’s lap, continuously casting healing magic upon him.

She wasn’t nearly as proficient in healing magic as she was in combat spells, but it remained a rare and remarkable power capable of saving lives.

In fact, her healing was the very reason Asterion had survived this long.

Thanks to her efforts, he had finally passed the point of danger.

Asterion had survived, and Ethan had won.

It should have been cause for celebration, yet none of the members of the Third Hunting Squad laughed or showed any sign of happiness.

All they felt was relief.

Relief that a long nightmare had finally ended.

They had earned the right to rest, but none of them dared to laugh. They had lost far too much during this hunting expedition.

In truth, every hunting squad except the Third had been completely wiped out.

It was astonishing that the Third Hunting Squad alone had survived with every member intact, almost as though some unseen force had been protecting their lives.

However, they weren’t the only survivors.

The witch Schierke had also survived, as had the old hunter who had accompanied them throughout their battles.

Far from Moon and the others, Jackson Heart lay alone in the very place where he had killed Morgus.

He was still utterly exhausted. Although the Flask had healed his injuries, it had done nothing to erase the immense strain his body had endured.

He was suffering from terrible pain, but that pain became a trivial concern the moment the curse was finally lifted from him.

His snake-like eyes, which rarely opened fully, were now stretched wide.

Lying motionless on the cold ground, unable to move, he found himself overwhelmed by emotions that threatened to spill out of him.

Jackson was the last remnant of an entire generation.

The sole survivor of an era whose hunters had either died or transformed into monsters.

Ethan and the others had succeeded in defeating the Golden Dawn Knight. They had even vanquished the monster that had taken possession of his body, bringing an end to a Legacy dungeon that had existed for hundreds of years.

Yet something strange happened at that moment.

Jackson’s senses told him that the nightmare was over, but his mind simply refused to accept it.

Instead, everything seemed like an illusion, a beautiful lie with no basis in reality.

This was the moment he had awaited for hundreds of years, the moment he had yearned for so desperately that, at some point during his endless vigil, he had lost all hope of ever witnessing it.

Even his decision to help Ethan had been little more than a whim.

He had grown sick of seeing the same scenery every day, walking the same paths, and fighting the same monsters over and over again.

Years passed, then decades, until he eventually lost count after the first hundred years.

He had thought he would eventually go insane.

But Jackson was a formidable King-rank warrior, and his mental fortitude proved far greater than he had ever imagined.

And somehow, that only made everything worse.

Because it meant he was forced to keep waiting.

For hundreds of years, he remained alone, surrounded by monsters.

Waiting.

Waiting.

And waiting...

As though his torment would continue for all eternity.

But the wait he had believed would never end had finally come to an end.

Jackson couldn’t believe that any of this was real.

He had never made plans for this moment. He had never even considered what he would do if the day he had dreamed of actually arrived.

Then, without realizing it, droplets of some strange liquid began falling onto the ground beneath him.

His cheeks grew wet, and a burning warmth spread through his eyes.

It continued for some time before Jackson finally realized what was happening.

He was crying.

Real tears were streaming down his face.

"Ah... What the hell is this? And here I thought they’d dried up a long time ago..."

With great difficulty, Jackson raised an arm and covered his face with the crook of his elbow.

He didn’t want anyone to see him crying, even though there was no one around.

But hiding his face did nothing to stop the tears.

They only flowed more freely with every passing second, as emotions suppressed for centuries finally burst forth.

"Damn it... Damn it!! Why did you take so long? Why... Why couldn’t you have come sooner?"

Jackson wept bitterly, crying harder than he ever had in his entire life.

And in that moment, the giant renowned for his unbreakable resilience became the most fragile creature of all.

...

...

...

— Ethan’s POV —

"Dark Sister?"

Aldrich’s soul had transformed into a completely black sword, a strange katana forged from a metal unlike anything I had ever seen before.

Although I was holding Ars’s golden sword in my other hand, my eyes remained fixed on this mysterious weapon.

Using the Player System interface, I brought up the sword’s information, eager to learn more about it.

For some reason, I felt that there was something special about this weapon.

...

Dark Sister (Modified Version)

Ash of War: Killing Mode

A sword forged from a metal of unknown origin. Once wielded by a nameless warrior, it was shattered after enduring countless battles. The great blacksmith Ganishka eventually discovered its remains and reforged it completely, transforming it into a bloodthirsty blade.

Its ability is a double-edged sword, turning its wielder into a merciless killing machine incapable of distinguishing friend from foe.

Requirements:

Dexterity: 30