Chapter 1117 (1/2)

Vualla spat out a mouthful of blood and cracked her neck. It was the only show of weakness she allowed herself, having rushed back from the frontlines to stand at this position. Because for the last two days, during any downtime she received, Vualla resumed her zombielike vigil with mechanical dedication.

Cail Tweocs regarded Vualla carefully. For the first time since they had met, the small, hairless man seemed unsure of what to say as he studied the younger woman. “You… as I have said, what you do in your own time is none of my business-”

“Relax,” Vualla said harshly. “I’ll be back for your damn training.”

Perhaps because of the situation, Cail ignored Vualla’s disrespectful words that would normally set him off. Instead, he released a high pitched cough into his hand and nodded sagely. “Ahem, then I must go. There is quite a kerfuffle as Terith was able to locate and capture the Nether Prince that previously escaped his grasp. Truly, an auspicious thing… but the fact that the Nether Prince was briefly freed is troublesome. Even if it could not escape, it seems very likely it contacted a Nether King-”

“Cail.” Vualla breathed out and some of her destructive tendencies leaked out from her mouth. Her hands flexed. The ground around her began to sizzle and seeth. “Now is when you leave me the fuck alone.”

Blinking in shock, Cail seemed to consider Vualla for several seconds before he nodded and hurried away. Vualla glanced toward his retreating back with her nose wrinkled up in disgust. Do you really think I don’t know that you are doing this on purpose…? Swearing at me when I’m calm, prodding me with inanities when I’m upset… Every chance you get, trying to get under my skin, driving me toward rage. Perhaps I understand why you think my rage will lead to more power, but the fact that you want to try that shit today…

Vualla turned back to the front. Her eyes ached and her face felt long and stretched. The body of her father lay before her, solemn and very dead. His hands were clasped in front of his chest, hiding the gaping wound that had stopped his heart.

In the end, it hadn’t mattered how much she had struggled against the unending tides of Nether Beasts that flooded out of the Great Rift. Cail Tweocs’ demands and Vualla’s continued service to Commander Terith meant that there were times where Vualla couldn’t remain on the East end of the battle lines to protect her father’s camp. She did what she could when she could, but it hadn’t been enough.

I’m not enough, Vualla thought bleakly. It was an old thought, one she strongly associated with her father. It hung above her head now, fat and wet and heavy like an attic lost to rot and mold.

Yesterday, while Vualla was training, the invasion against her Father’s camp had included two Nether Gatekeepers. He was forced to step up to face them, and although he had been able to slay them both, he had paid for this valor with his life. Despite his long service in the army, no other Commander had reacted in time to help against the Nether Gatekeepers.

Vualla’s fist clenched. If I had been there…!

But then her thoughts stuttered to a stop. Would she have been able to make a difference against Nether Gatekeepers? She had certainly grown, but her power was short of being able to stand toe to toe against that level of foes. Even though the constant fighting against Nether Beasts had pushed her to just short of condensing her fourth Nether star, that only protected her.

It was only by refining her image further that she would reach a place where she could dominate a battlefield. Which was why she endured Cail’s training for so long despite all of the very obvious consequences she suffered.

What was even more infuriating to Vualla was that no one else had really come to visit her father’s body after it had been interred here on display for a week, as was tradition. His subordinates could be excused because most of them were either dead or still struggling to hold back the Nether Beasts, but it was galling to find that most of the other Commanders seemed completely unfamiliar with her father.

He’s been serving out here for fifty years…! Vualla gritted her teeth. And yet none of you can be bothered to remember him…? Was all of his struggle for nothing…?

Yet this only happened because I was too weak to make a difference. This danger came too soon. Vualla’s eyes dimmed as she stared at her father’s body without even seeing it. Does that mean that there is no choice but for me to give everything up and become a tool of destruction…? I had thought…

And what made Vualla deeply afraid was that even thinking about becoming an empty tool of destruction filled Vualla with a sense of inevitably. Yes, her body told her, this was always our fate. This was always the Path that you were going to walk. Although the deviated from it for a short time… it is time to return to the true Path.

Embrace your Fate and destroy everything that stands in your way.

It was that same sleep-walking sense of living that Vualla had experienced for almost her entire life. Like nothing came as a surprise as long as she continued forward. Like she wasn’t even a living being, but a machine proceeding forward on a track that had been designed by someone else for her. Deja vu was her constant companion.

And then she met Randidly Ghosthound. Suddenly, Vualla felt an intoxicating sense of freedom. Somehow, Vualla knew that Randidly Ghosthound was not something that should have happened to her life. His presence gave her the resolve to leave that camp and go see her father. He had shown her a Path toward reassuring herself.

If she hadn’t gone… the guilt and concern over her father would have burrowed into her heart and turned rancid when she simply waited, guided by that horrible track before her. Eventually, that malignant growth would taint the entirety of her being, pushing her deeper and deeper into darkness.

But Randidly had simply pushed all that away by being there. He showed her another Path.

Even more attractive was the fact he clearly possessed the same hatred for the System that she did. He simply expressed it in a different way. Vualla’s destruction image was a much broader tool that she sharpened to strike against the System. Meanwhile, Randidly seemed almost uncaring of the tools he sharpened, but rather his main focus was improving himself. He possessed a strange arrogance that indicated he was sure that if he grew strong, he would eventually be able to overcome the System.

It was… refreshing.

But Vualla couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed by that bright ideal that Randidly had shown her. If she hadn’t followed him, if she had instead remained on her pre-written life and focused on making her power increase-

I wouldn’t have even been there to help him if I focused on improving my power. Vualla’s eyelids fluttered. At least… at least this way I was there. I don’t regret going. But I wish…