Elysia Frentz’s funeral was conducted quietly. There were several factors contributing to this, the most significant being that Elysia Frentz had been an orphan abandoned by fate. Though she had been a noble young lady from a prominent family a decade ago, by now she was nothing more than a disconnected orphan, even to distant relatives. As a result, no family came to honor her, and the only ones overseeing her funeral were the Academy, which permitted intruders for her sake, and Selian, who felt she owed Elysia her life.
Certainly, given Selian’s standing as a Hero and the fact that Elysia had saved her life, there were discussions among the high-ranking individuals about holding a grand funeral. But due to Elysia’s lack of family, and at the insistence of those closest to her—Selian, Yuli, and Anne—the funeral was ultimately kept small, attended only by a few acquaintances. Her friends from class, a handful of professors, and a few dignitaries attended nominally, but that was all.
“El…”
“Hu… hu…”
Elysia’s friends were still unable to accept her death even after the funeral had concluded and her body was laid to rest. Tears streamed down their faces as they mourned, and Selian, who had watched her death up close, had turned into an emotionless shell, shedding only silent tears.
“It seems difficult to uncover the identity of the one who targeted Miss Selian.”
Even though they wanted to avenge Elysia, the only thing discovered from her charred remains was a scorched scroll with little left of it—its purpose indecipherable. There were no clues in the assailant’s corpse that could reveal their identity.
Though Yuli and Anne tried to console Selian, they themselves were overcome by despair, deepening their shared sense of loss.
As time passed in the Academy, instead of the memory of Elysia fading, it grew more vivid, haunting her friends with every place they walked and every happy memory they shared with her. Selian wasn’t strong enough to merely miss Elysia; the girl she was when she knew her wasn’t old or mature enough to handle the grief.
It was inevitable then, that Selian would leave the Academy, withdrawing from her studies to set out on her own.
Knowing her heart as they did, Yuli and Anne could do nothing but offer words of comfort—they couldn’t stop her from leaving.
What followed was not a happy tale—not just from her perspective, but for the entire continent.
The Demon King had regained his strength, and the invasion had begun in earnest.
Selian’s sword, which had been honed with the daily hope of vengeance against her unknown nemesis—the one who had killed Elysia—was no longer aimed at the assassin guild but instead pointed at demons.
Selian’s expedition to the Demon King’s Castle was modest. It consisted of Hero Selian and Saint Mariel. Additional helpers were hired locally when needed, but the real party members were only the two—a very shaky and incomplete team for a Hero’s quest.
Selian had long given up on the dream of the ideal adventurer’s party she once envisioned, and declined all recommendations for companions. Occasionally in her thoughts, she considered her friends Anne and Yuli, but Anne was busy guarding her territory, and Yuli lacked the strength for the Demon King quest.
Most importantly, whenever she thought of her friends, one face always emerged. If they were there, the empty seat beside them would feel heavier than ever. The emptiness and solitude she might feel were far more terrifying to Selian than the overwhelming force of the Demon King’s Army or the incomprehensible power of the Demon King himself.
Had Mariel, who held a standing equal to Selian’s, objected, things might have changed. But Mariel, who had known of Selian’s struggles from their days in the Academy, respected her decision despite knowing the dangers.
The shaky team managed to endure due to Selian’s impressive swordsmanship—nearly at the Sword Master level—and the divine power of the Holy Sword she wielded, alongside Mariel’s overwhelming healing abilities.
However, their precarious balancing act could not last forever. Even if their strength surpassed the norm for their age, limits were inevitable. Their journey was bound to end—and obviously, not in a good way.
Though the pair could somehow defeat an Upper Demon, the Four Heavenly Kings they faced were in a different league altogether. The endless onslaught of lesser demons aside, the sheer power of the Four Heavenly Kings themselves far exceeded their expectations. Every auxiliary member who had joined them for the cause of righteousness was already dead, their bodies discarded long ago.
Perhaps, if Selian and Mariel had more time to grow stronger, they might one day defeat the Four Heavenly Kings, but not now.
While Selian was busy fending off countless demons with her sword, the holy barrier that Mariel had maintained, holding back the lower demons as a decoy while buying time, shattered with a single devastating blow from one of the Four Heavenly Kings. Mariel fell instantly with that single strike. In some ways, it might have been fortunate that she wasn’t captured by the demons.
Now with Mariel gone, Selian could feel the holy magic that Mariel had cast as her final act wearing off.
Her already trembling arms, her legs barely holding her up, her blurred vision from blood loss—it hit her. This was the end.
“El…”
Through it all, the face that came to mind was that of her friend who saved her life that day. She saw herself as still living on borrowed time—time gifted to her by Elysia. Thinking this made her feel connected to Elysia, even now.
She felt a sense of guilt about dying after her friend sacrificed her life for her, but at the same time, there was a small glimmer of joy at the prospect of seeing her again.
Her death was certain, and she could collapse at any moment. But still, she refused to give up.
Even if her body was about to die here, she could not fall. Even in her broken state, she was still a Hero. A Hero couldn’t simply fall, no matter what. Thus, she swung her sword one last time and managed to cut down every demon except for the Four Heavenly King.
“Persistent wretch…”
“Cough…”
The tentacle of Glen, one of the Four Heavenly Kings, pierced straight through her heart. Though the fight that had driven her to this point had brought her to the brink of the Sword Master level, it was nothing more than a last, fleeting flame. The curse of Glen calling her a “persistent wretch” might as well have been a form of tribute to her tenacity.
Gradually, Selian’s eyes began to close. It was a miracle she’d lasted this long. Her knees buckled and hit the ground and her Holy Sword clanged as it dropped.
Glen’s tentacle lunged toward her in a final attack. Both knew it would be the last blow.
Yet, despite the speed of the tentacle, Selian could vividly perceive it slowing down. Was this the famed “life flashing before one’s eyes”? Instead of fearing the tentacle approaching her head, she was flooded with memories—her time at the Academy, her moments with her friends, her shared memories with Elysia. These thoughts overpowered the memories of her family’s worried faces as they saw her off on this adventure. The guilt and gratitude she felt for Elysia, as well as indescribable emotions, had already consumed her for years. It was the curse—or blessing—Elysia left her with when she died.
Just as her eyes closed and Glen’s tentacle was about to crush her head, her face, which had carried the weight of a lifetime since that fateful day, finally wore a peaceful smile.
