The Camellia Tattoo - Chapter 165
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
this book is completely translated on luna kofi (advanced chapters for the website will follow)
“It’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone say to hand over a child.”
“It’s not the first time. I hear it every day lately.”
“Tsk, tsk. Who would have thought this is an evil dragon?”
For an ordinary person, their happiness typically stems from family. No child is not precious to their parents? But to make an unborn child a sacrifice?
“What nonsense.”
“Is spring eternal? Even if it were, I wouldn’t want my child to live for it.”
“Exactly. The Grand Duke’s estate is already providing us with enough to live on.”
“Think about how much Madam has done for the North! When our homes were destroyed before, who came to fix them? She brought in a doctor too.”
“Is it human to forget gratitude?”
This was the conversation echoing through various villages. People not only remembered their gratitude but also respected and loved Amber. They were returning the love she had shown them.
“Alright, everyone. Just a little longer!”
In a crisis, trying to survive alone would only lead to death, but if they faced it together, miraculous things would happen.
It was strange.
Conceptually, it seemed that one should struggle alone to survive, yet why did coming together increase their chances of survival? That was one of the wonders of human society—or perhaps it was what they called humanity.
While Igmeyer fought fiercely, the North grew even stronger in its unity. If there was one significant change in Amber’s life this time, it was this.
Though Amber herself wasn’t fully aware, her regrets extended beyond her relationship with Igmeyer. It included her failure to protect the North, her inability to love and cherish its people.
That was another source of regret.
However, in this lifetime, she had rectified all her past regrets, ensuring that this blessing would safely pass on to the next generation. It was a distant thought, considering the baby hadn’t even been born yet.
* * *
While the Grand Duke’s estate and the people of each village united in wishing for Igmeyer’s victory, he was facing Nidhogg in the abyss.
The conversation they had been having with swords had now transitioned into a more meaningful dialogue, albeit one where they still didn’t fully understand each other.
— Why do you resist so much?
Nidhogg growled. In response, Igmeyer raised his sword defiantly.
“I told you, I don’t need that kind of spring.”
— Why are you so certain you don’t need it? Do you think you can survive this winter? Do you honestly believe that just because a game is hosted, the North will be alright?
“Someone who’s already dead has a lot to say. The living will handle it, so just die quietly.”
The two opinions were undeniably irreconcilable. In the end, one of them would have to die. It was obvious that Igmeyer had no intention of being the one to die.
— You’re still young, so you don’t understand.
“…Saying that makes you truly old. Do you know the word ‘old fart’?”
Igmeyer muttered softly and decided to close his eyes.
With the black smoke generated by Nidhogg, the surroundings were dark, and he couldn’t see anything properly anyway. So it was better not to strain himself to identify anything.
As the battle continued, Igmeyer felt a sense of his power’s source opening up somewhere within him. His body and mind, spirit and flesh; a passage connecting them felt like it was being unveiled. The sword he wielded now felt like an extension of his body.
He barely felt any fatigue or strain, as if his senses had become numb. He only focused on one goal. Having given up his sight, his hearing, touch, and perhaps even his intuition became sharper.
Nidhogg often used deception, which was quite helpful.
For instance, the voice might come from the right, but the tail would strike from the left, or he might sense an attack coming from above, only to find it striking from below.
‘It’s said that when you become a dragon, you slowly go mad and end up in a wretched state, and that’s exactly how it is. I don’t want to end up like that.’
To him, Nidhogg was a being that had lost everything except for one goal during his life. His obsession was so strong that he couldn’t see what was right in front of him.
‘Unfortunately, I must kill you to free your soul.’
That was the only thing he could do as a son.
“Let’s see an end to this, Father.”
* * *
A week had passed. Another week followed after that.
Without a moment’s rest in battle, Igmeyer grew increasingly weary.
But Nidhogg was equally fatigued.
Unable to unleash his minions, Nidhogg was solely focused on blocking Igmeyer’s attacks.
Igmeyer relentlessly targeted Nidhogg’s neck, to the point where it seemed ruthless.
Kaang!
The blade struck against Nidhogg’s scaly tail with a loud clang. Though pain surged through his hand as if it were being ripped apart, Igmeyer made no expression.
He silently prepared for the next attack.
There was a deep river between Nidhogg and him, a divide that could never be bridged. Their thoughts were so fundamentally different that they could be called eternal parallel lines.
Nidhogg believed that sacrificing for the sake of future generations was justified, his mind entirely focused on efficiency.
He didn’t care that those he deemed expendable also had lives of their own.
