Chapter 18: 18 17-2. Diablo Sith.txt

Just for a moment.

For just a moment, I locked eyes with Christ.

Then, in the next moment, his body was slashed by a caser and his right arm flew through the air.

A burning pain lit up the wound, and bright red fresh blood poured out.

A large amount of blood is lost and life activities begin to be hindered.

I can see that my skills 'Life Extension' and 'God's Blessing' have been fully mobilized.

But even so, it's still not enough, a fatal wound--

At that moment, I was simultaneously terrified of the end and joyful of release.

I was afraid of dying.

But at the same time, I was afraid of a life without a future.

As I collapsed, my vision blurred and flickered.

I felt like I could see somewhere else.

And then I remembered.

Oh.

Is this a runabout--?

◆◆◆◆◆

.............

It's the past.

The old story of a searcher who now calls himself Dia.

I don't have a name.

When I was born into this world, my mother feared me as a demon, and I was never given a name for my entire life.

I was born with enormous magical powers.

It's not just a little bit of magic.

A newborn baby has an amount of magic that would make an ordinary person feel sick if they saw it.

On top of that, its body was also different from a human's, with tiny wings growing on its back.

Not an ordinary human, but a distinctly different species.

It's no wonder the parents were terrified when such a child was born between a pure human and a human. Thus, I was abandoned to raise my child and left in the village church.

Luckily, I was treated well afterwards.

The priest called me an 'apostle' and worshipped me.

It is said that "Apostle" is an agent of God from the Levantine religion, which is the main church on this continent. The village priest kept telling me how wonderful I was and raised me well.

By the time I was five years old, the whole village knew that I was a miracle worker.

And after the legend in my village, I became known as a Sith.

The legendary Sisu was a messenger of God who descended from heaven and brought miracles to the people who were suffering from poverty. At the end of the legend, the Sith married a hero, and it is believed that his descendants are the people of this village - the people of this village.

The villagers kept calling me Sith, hoping for that miracle part of the story.

By that time, my parents no longer looked at me with frightened eyes.

But they didn't treat me as if I were their own child, as I was revered like a god in the village.

--I'm not sure what to do with it.

I was taught sacred magic by a priest and used my power to heal the injured villagers.

To keep the monsters that attacked the village away, I sacrificed my life to create wards.

I mastered magic in my sleep for the sake of children who were suffering from diseases.

My power was truly a miracle.

Maybe I thought as a child that if I worked hard enough, my parents would approve of my efforts.

But that effort only made me more of a god. The villagers would bow to me and be afraid to even look directly at me. So much so that my power had reached a bizarre level. It didn't take long for my parents to start bowing to me, too.

The story of the newly born "Apostle Sith" was becoming famous in many countries.

At the age of ten, I finally began to have an ego of my own. I realized that I had been told to do as I was told and praised, and that my mastery of magic had made me feel alone. But it's all too late.

I had just finished losing my parents, my way of life, and my neighbors.

And next, the country moves to take possession of the "Apostle Sith".

From there, it's just a blink of an eye.

The village I was born in was too small for the country.

I was presented to the country for a poor harvest.

Looking back, this is when I started to think about it.

If you want something powerful, you will get what you want. This was the first time I realized the inexcusable nature of the situation.

From there I went from one place to another.

I was asked to perform a miracle in the lord's mansion. I became a spectacle for the benefit of merchants. Other times I indulged the curiosity of the high lords. Finally, he was made to pray in the presence of a certain king.

It was a fact that miracles for the poverty-stricken could only be used by those in power who had deep pockets. I almost lost sight of the 'apostles' that I had been taught by the priests back home.

I lost sight of what I was living for and what I wanted.

So I asked my country to let me look at my hometown to see where I came from.

-- that's this year.

There was a simple but warm village.

The villagers were poor, but strong.

Naturally, I went to see the house where I was born.

I saw my parents living there with a smile on their faces that I had never seen before.

There was a child holding hands with his parents.

That child was my brother. Before I knew it, I had a little brother.

I didn't know that. He's not much older than me. And I didn't know it.

He played like a child.

He loved to play with swords, among other things, and said many times that he was going to be a knight.

My mother laughed and said, "That's very promising.

My father laughed and said, "If it's a sword, I'll teach you.

He laughed. It's a relief to have a son like you." "I've always thought that if he was born, I would teach him the sword." "That's a fine boy." "He's a strong boy, he'll be a swordsman as good as me in the future." "Yes, we're proud of him." "We're proud of him." "Our boy. --

I'm...?

I buzzed (・・・・・).

So I muttered.

'Hey, I'm (...)?　I tried my best. I loved fairy tales too, and I wanted to be a cool swordsman. ...... But everyone told me I had to learn magic, and that the apostles use holy magic to perform miracles. I had to learn it the hard way. Your father and mother said so. So I ......, I--

There were many books in the village.

Books with heroic tales and fairy tales were left behind to pass down many legends.

It was the same in my house and in the church.

In the midst of my apostolic duties, it was my only entertainment.

No, it would be more accurate to say that it was the only entertainment in the village. That's probably why my brother read it as well and admired the swordsman as much as I did.

''I, too--''

The next thing I knew, I was in front of my parents.

The country had reminded me that I was only going to watch, but my body was moving on its own.

''Si, Sith-sama--!

How did you end up here?

As soon as my parents saw me, they hung their heads.

It was the moment when the buzzing turned to a definite sadness.

'Hey, who's that beautiful person?'

My brother didn't know me.

Perhaps my parents did their best to hide me from him.

'You are an only child,' they must have raised me gently.

'Wow, I'm ....... Your--

I was trying to speak.

He's a Sith. He's a heavenly messenger sent from heaven.

My mother covered up the words.

'--!

An emotional turmoil that makes me want to die.

The end of my life, when I wanted to turn it all to ashes.

That was the moment when the "me" was born.

After that, I defected from the country.

Because I realized that there was no reason to serve the country from the beginning.

I didn't think about what would happen to that small village because of my defection. I didn't want to think about it.

I knew what I wanted.

I wanted to be like my brother.

I was born a man like him, grew up reading heroic tales, longed to be a swordsman, and chased my dreams in the love of my father and mother. Eventually I would become a great knight and return to my parents as a brave sword hero.

That's what I want.

I knew what it took to get it.

In the end, only the powerful get everything they want.

Money gets you what you want, power gets you what you want.

I understood that prematurely.

And at the same time, it was only a matter of time before the country got me back.

The country knows how useful I am.

I've been obedient all along, and I was able to successfully disappear this time. But with the country's wealth and power, it won't be long before I'm caught.

I've got to get my money and power before then.

Money and power to fight back.

--I'm leaving.

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I'm setting out on a journey to one of the brightest legends I've ever read.

A huge labyrinth that appears on the continent.

The hero who challenges it.

Meeting and parting with friends.

Looming difficulties.

The gold and silver treasures that lie ahead.

The glory that will be given.

I, who had only biased knowledge, choose the treasure chest called the labyrinth.

I didn't go on an adventure as the "Apostle Sith" but as the "Boy with No Name".

That "boy without a name" is aiming to become a swordsman.

He can't use the "sacred magic" that took away his precious things.

He is an ordinary boy in a fairy tale.

I have a faint dream that it might allow me to start over.

I walked in a straight line to the labyrinth of the continent.

Along the way, I encountered bandits and escaped. I was tricked by a guide. The merchant who gave me a hand almost turned me into a commodity. I was almost eaten by a monster. I ran out of money and had nothing to eat.

After a long journey, we arrived in one of the labyrinthine confederacies.

The Vault.

It was an arduous journey.

Just to get there, the harshness of the world had nearly broken my heart.

''No, no or ....... I'm already .......

I remind myself.

That thing would have been broken from the beginning.

After that (...), my heart would have been necrotic, rotten and crazy.

If I wanted money and power, I had to use sacred magic, and if I wanted to protect my dreams, I didn't care about the labyrinth.

His mind had lost its sense of balance.

Foolishly, I wanted to be both.

I realize that I am a child after all.

I want all of this and all of that.

Greedy, self-centered, selfish, and above all, shallow.

In a negative cycle, my body gets stuck.

I sit down and can't stand up.

You will squat down.

I become unsure of anything.

Anxiety loosens my tear glands.

But I can't let it go.

I can't go, but I have to.

It was then.

I met a boy with dark hair and dark eyes.

A dark-haired, dark-eyed boy with a burn mark on his neck.

"Hey (...), are you awake (・・・・)?

-Oh!

I looked up as quickly as I could.

People are looking at me.

'I'm not a girl,' so I can't let them see my tears.

The silly look on my face made me feel a little better about myself.

In the white crystals flickering in my vision, I resume my fight as a boy.

Yes.

It was a cold night, with magical snow falling.

◆◆◆◆◆ ...

-- the face of Christ is the end of the runway.

Back to reality.

I'm slashed off my right arm - and finally, the monster Tida's returning blade is about to send my head flying.

''Diaaaaah--!

But the battered Christ played his blade to protect me.

The flash was sharp - like a hero I had dreamed of.

It was as if my eyes couldn't keep up with the sword and sword encounter.

It was out of place, but beautiful - and I was envious.

I try to crawl out of Christ's way to get out of his way and keep my distance, only to realize that I have one less arm to lift my body.

At the same time, I find my right arm holding a sword rolling out of the corner of my eye.

Ah, so this is the end of 'me' .......

Hahaha .......

If "I" ended up like that, then "I" ended up like that too. ......

I stare at the pool of blood created by the blood flowing out of my body in amazement.

I'll be dead in a few minutes.

It's natural to do that if you don't do anything about it.

That's fine.

That's fine.

But I can't ever allow Christ to die.

I was the one who forced him out of the bar where he worked as a mere clerk.

The only thing I want to do is to stop Christ from dying because of that, at all costs.

So, first of all, I was willing to give my life to save Christ.

But my life is not enough to save Christ.　

It won't even save Tida's.

--I have to make a choice.

My dream is more important than my life.

It's what I've always known.

But what about Christ?

My first companion.

The first person to recognize a boy named Dia for the first time.

Someone who, even after just a few days in the hood, has given me so much.

Oh.

You mean--

Dreams are more important than life, but my friend (Christ) has become more important than my dreams?

So I begin to build the sacred magic that I had decided not to use, even in death.

The magical light that I hated like an avenger is generated from within my body.

The nostalgic magic of 'I' that I should have discarded.

I have repeated it tens of thousands of times - the sensation of sneaking in my spirit.

Sacred magic 《Theon》.

The labyrinth was filled with light compression magic.

The "price" of this was that my vision almost went dark.

Not yet. You can't lose consciousness just yet, you need to defeat that Tida or some other monster.

You need to defeat that Tida monster or whatever it is, or it won't end.

I'm sure that although he claims to specialize in mental magic, his true value lies in his irregularly shaped body. We need to solidify that thing more like the freezing magic of Christ.

There is plenty of magic to do that.

There is a lot of sacred magic that I've cultivated since I was a child that can handle every aspect of it.

Honestly, I don't have the luxury of being able to discard magic in a calm manner.

The blood isn't circulating in the brain. If that's the case, we have to choose by feel.

The blackout of vision.

Reality is becoming distorted.

And yet, I see the enemy.

I'm going to beat it, even if it kills me.

That's all I want to do.

For the protection of Christ.

For the protection of Christ.

For the protection of Christ.

Just for that, beyond the limits of my body, magic is being built.

My dream was crushed.

But the alternative gives me the power to push beyond the limits.

That's why 'I' wanted to protect him absolutely.

With all my heart.

With my life.

I had to...

The "over-capture protection" skill has been compromised.

In exchange for certain emotions, certain feelings are reinforced

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