novel bin Chapter 59 Happiness
Chapter 59 Happiness
Perseus laughed, his laughter scattered and then gathered again by the gale. "Even with the senses of a dragon, you can't keep up with divine speed!"
Arthur stood at the center of the tower, the Dragon Power River fully unfolded, and he withdrew all his senses to within a step around him.
He no longer tried to track Perseus's location, nor to distinguish the real from the fake in the mirror; he simply stood there, the tip of his sword touching the ground.
Wait, wait for Perseus to reveal his own weakness.
Why did he kill so many people? Bad people, innocent people.
Arthur believed he was not a bloodthirsty man; the resentment on his sword was fresh, acquired only in the last few days. He killed not because he wanted to.
Arthur spoke, his voice not loud, but the fierce winds high above couldn't dispel it, "Where is your Master?"
All the ripples stopped for a moment, and Perseus's figure appeared at the edge of the tower.
The short, red hair was plastered messily to her forehead, and the white cape's wing decorations were no longer dazzling.
He stood there, holding Hepar in his hand, the Mirror Shield hovering beside him, the flippancy on his face gone.
"Master?" His voice was soft. "In a very safe place."
"Did he order you to kill him?"
"No, Master has never given me an order to kill anyone," Perseus replied.
The fierce winds high in the sky suddenly stopped, as if the entire city had held its breath.
Perseus lowered his head, looking at Hepar in his hand, his short red hair obscuring his eyes.
He abruptly pulled open the hunting bag at his waist, and the moment the bag opened, terrifying evil thoughts poured out from it.
It's not magic, it's not resentment, it's the "concept" itself—petrification!
When Medusa was killed, a curse that spewed from her severed carotid artery was powerful enough to turn all living beings into stone.
The bag was only slightly ajar, but the malice emanating from that slit had already frozen the air within a hundred meters.
Grayish-white patterns began to appear on the steel surface of the TV tower, and the steel itself was turning into stone.
Arthur's Dragon Force River sensed it; the malevolent intent was seeping out of the bag in all directions.
Perseus did not intend to use it to kill Arthur; he knew that was impossible. He intended to turn the entire high-altitude area into a stone prison.
"Even a dragon would freeze before this aura, wouldn't it?"
Perseus swooped down, and Hepar, its blade flashing with deadly cold light, aimed directly at Arthur's throat.
The Winged Boots emitted a pale stream of light, moving faster than ever before; this was his "final speed."
Arthur did not retreat; he took a step forward, and the sword in the lake in his hand began to shatter the invisible wind sheath.
The power of the Wind King's barrier was stripped from the sword, transforming into countless transparent blades of energy that exploded in all directions.
The moment it peeled away, the true light of the sword in the lake burst forth from the crack, golden in color.
Pure, scorching, like the gold of the sun's core placed in the night sky.
The darkness was illuminated... no, it was "burned through".
The steel at the top of the TV tower lost its color in the light, and a huge hole was evaporated in the clouds, revealing the real starry sky above.
The petrified malice overflowing from the hunting bag emitted a silent scream under the golden light, as if the concept itself was collapsing.
Medusa's curse was like frost meeting the midday sun before the brilliance of the Star Sword.
Perseus's winged boots emitted a wailing sound as they shattered, and the flowing light was no longer pale white, but was swallowed by golden light and became transparent.
"What... a holy sword of this caliber?!" Perseus's expression changed drastically.
He tried to raise the Mirror Shield, but the Mirror Shield, in the golden light, could only reflect Perseus's own face.
The next moment, the flippancy and surprise disappeared from that face, replaced by calm.
"Ex——calibur!!!"
A golden pillar of light rose from the ground and stretched across the sky.
The beam of light was larger than the width of the TV tower, shooting straight up from the top of the tower into the sky, piercing through the clouds, piercing through the void in the evaporated starry sky, and continuing upward.
The light was seen throughout Tokyo.
From an ordinary person's perspective, they cannot see the beam of light itself, but they do see that the night sky has suddenly brightened.
It's like the sun rising from the direction of Xindu District at three in the morning.
All of Perseus's divine artifacts paled in comparison to that pure starlight.
Herpal's sword began to disintegrate before it even touched the edge of the pillar of light.
Countless fine cracks appeared on the bronze surface of the Mirror Shield, and light seeped out from the cracks.
Hades' heel slid off his head, revealing his complete face—young, handsome, and empty, filled with "excessive luck" that had then been hollowed out.
The face was completely unobstructed in the golden light.
"So that's how it is... This is the real 'Dragon Slayer'." His voice was very soft, so soft that even he could hardly hear it.
The pillar of light engulfed everything; Hepar shattered, the Mirror Shield crumbled, and the radiance of the Winged Boots was completely extinguished.
Perseus's figure was swallowed up by the sea of light, and he didn't even have time to scream.
As the light faded, only a charred black spot remained at the top of the TV tower, its steel frame riddled with countless tiny holes, resembling a honeycomb.
The red aviation obstruction lights were still flashing, with only one still lit.
Perseus collapsed on the edge of the tower, his lower body already gone.
From the waist down, his body transformed into countless silver-gray particles of light, like sandcastles scattered by the wind, peeling away one by one and drifting into the night sky.
He didn't look at his own wounds, but instead watched Arthur sheath his sword.
The flippancy in his silver-gray eyes had completely vanished, replaced by a quiet, almost resigned quality.
"I, a hero who achieved my status through divine favor... still cannot reach your level of will."
He gave a bitter laugh, looking at his shattered hand.
Arthur stepped forward and looked down at the fallen boy. The night wind in the sky blew again, blowing Perseus's fading red hair toward the starry sky.
"A very good battle, Perseus. If it weren't for the magician's greed, you would still be slumbering in mythology."
Perseus's fingers twitched slightly as he watched his fingertips disappear, turning into particles of light that were scattered by the wind.
"The magician... Master?"
His voice was so soft it seemed to come from a great distance. He thought of that boy, Ise San'anji, a thin boy lying in a hospital bed, his Master.
As the boy was dying, he grasped his hand and said one sentence.
"I'm so glad that what I summoned wasn't an unfortunate hero, but a fortunate person like you."
Perseus did not answer; he did not know how to answer.
He was blessed by the gods, given everything, and defined as "happy," but he never felt happy.
He was merely "given" to; now, his fingertips are turning into particles of light, and his existence is disappearing from this world.
"I'm sorry, Master, I couldn't give you happiness."
Perseus was not a hero bestowed by the gods, but a man who wanted to bring happiness to others but failed to do so.
He closed his eyes, his body rapidly collapsing, and silvery-gray light particles peeled off his chest, shoulders, and cheeks, flying into the night sky like countless fireflies.
"Arthur Pendragon... I'd love to see you clash with those two 'great heroes'."
His voice grew softer and softer, like clouds thinned by the wind, "But unfortunately, I have to go first."
As soon as he finished speaking, Rider transformed into countless silver-gray streaks of light and disappeared completely into the Tokyo night sky.
Arthur stood atop the tower, watching the direction in which the particles of light dissipated.
The night wind high in the sky blew his golden hair, and his star-studded cloak fluttered behind him. Deep within his dragon eyes, the dark golden light slowly receded, and his pupils returned to their emerald green.
He sheathed the sword from the lake; the golden light on its blade had completely subsided, returning it to its original lake-blue color, and it lay quietly in his palm.
The outlines of the golden patterns on the sword were slightly clearer than before.
Arthur placed his hand on his chest, and the rhythm of the Dragon's Heart slowly subsided.
Deep in the riverbed, the silvery-white anchor points glowed quietly, and a faint blue hue also shone.
Arthur stood atop the tower high in the sky, but felt no joy.
"The first one."
He spoke softly, then lowered his body and leaped from the top of the tower, disappearing into the neon shadows of Tokyo's late night.