I Became the Wrong Race

274 – Mourner (3)

A very short period of time, a reprieve that can even be called a moment.

In it, Llewelyn hesitated greatly.

The mourner was told to hit. But Llewelyn didn’t want to do that.

Even though she had a hole in her chest, she thought there might be a way to save her.

It’s too early to draw conclusions, and there are many people around Llewellyn who don’t die from having their chest pierced and their heart ripped out.

So Llewellyn thought there might be a way to save the mourner.

That’s where the hesitation came from. I thought she might be able to be saved.

Even if she couldn’t be saved, it was natural for her to hesitate to cut him down. Because he was a friend and an adult.

Llewelyn was weak towards ‘adults’ who took good care of her. Before she was Llewelyn, she was able to survive thanks to many good people.

She knew that without even one person, his life would have changed a lot or would have been difficult to maintain.

It was none other than the eyes that urged Llewelyn, who hesitated and tried to stop the sword,.

The eyes of an unknown mourner. His gaze

The emotions within it.

Resignation, some remorse, trust.

It occurred to her that she shouldn’t be made to die. Llewelyn took a deep breath without turning her foot forward.

All you need is a sword to cut down only what you want.

His divinity resided in the sword. He hoped for a miracle and stretched out his hand to reach the star.

Even if that is not what the mourner fully hoped for.

Llewellyn recalled a game that a friend once showed him that he enjoyed playing.

The technology behind it came to mind. A defense-ignoring, defense-ignoring strike.

A strike that kills a knight, stabbing at one point.

A name that is more familiar to Llewellyn through other actions is repeated within it.

‘Kill the knight.’

Sssss with me!

The sword turns black. A cluster of dark-colored stars moved forward, shining dark blue.

Until he finally passes the mourner and knocks away the embarrassed-looking Nerilmaeus.

The sword strike that was intended to cut down could not pierce the divine protection wrapped around Nerilmaeus’ body and the strong dragon. It was also because of the divinity of ‘passage’ that surrounded the blade.

Cutting force decreased. He had to cut off part of the mourning garment that was wrapped around the body, but he could not be said to have cut off the entire body.

In a state where both gain and loss coexist, Nerilmaeus’ body bounces and flies into the distance. There wasn’t a long time left until he returned.

Llewelyn grabbed the mourner who was about to fall.

“Old man!”

The thought that she might be able to save her disappears in an instant. Only then did Llewelyn truly see her mourner’s wounds.

There was a huge hole in his chest that could fit a whole human head.

The organs inside could be seen moving, and the torn heart was helplessly stopping.

Although the sorrow contained within was making my heart beat, that was only because of the ‘debuff immunity’ that Llewelyn knew existed.

When mourning ends, the mourner dies.

Like any other mourner, the human body cannot endure the sorrow of such a huge being.

That is why mourners live a short life. Llewelyn’s eyes trembled. The mourner felt very light in her arms.

The body that was being drained of life felt very light. As always.

“Oh my…”

“Luwell, Lynn.”

Perhaps it was because life was disappearing, but the voice was strangely clear considering the situation.

“Old man, come to your senses.”

Llewelyn’s voice was like that too. There was an expression closer to confidence than sadness.

“I will bring the blood knights. There’s nothing wrong with the heart, right? Even the old man… Because the old man is also a mourner.”

Llewellyn took a gradual escape as she spoke. What immediately came to mind was Lorian’s prosthetic hand.

“That’s right! They said the Empress made Lorian’s prosthetic hand. If you can make such a sophisticated prosthetic hand, you can definitely make a heart. She can live with a new heart. For sure…”

It was true. If only her heart wasn’t the problem, she might have survived. Although Llewelyn vaguely knew the truth, she desperately escaped.

“Sir, there’s still a lot to do. I am…”

Llewelyn still couldn’t erase the scene that appeared in the corner of her head.

It was difficult for someone she knew to die, so she thought she would give him a comfortable place to die after he said he was terminally ill.

At the end of her life, she hoped she could close her eyes in peace in front of the many people who cared for her and supported her.

She wanted to create a place where anyone could do that. In a way, the traces left by an unknown mourner on the current pantheon were very large.

Anyone in the pantheon would say that.

He treated even the three clans without prejudice, and even the victims of blood relatives who were called mixed blood and looked down on him were considered human beings.

“I told you I would kill you. If I die here like this… !”

“Llewelyn.”

But all escapes come to an end. Llewellyn faced a mourner calling his name

“Thank you.”

She said that was what she wanted to say and wanted to stop. But not even a single word came out of my mouth, let alone those words.

“Thanks to you, I was able to die as a person. Whenever… “It was a life where I thought I would die as a monster, hurting people, giving birth to resentment, and receiving countless hatred.”

“No, no! You’re not dead yet. Yet…”

“Llewelyn.”

Llewellyn stopped talking when her name was called quietly, and it was only then that she noticed a change.

She saw a heart that was no longer beating. The mourner’s strength was too great for the human body to support.

My body was collapsing from the inside. Llewelyn could even sense him as divine.

Organs that no longer function properly, a heart that does not beat, memory and reason fading.

Mourners live a short life. Those whose bodies survive enough not to live a short life become monsters and end their lives by subjugation.

The only mourners who don’t are the immortal heroes who are strong in both mind and body.

So did the anonymous mourner. He had a particularly strong image.

Enough to make people smile even when their reason is fading.

But that too has its limitations. He is dead.

The already dead body was merely maintained by the power of mourning.

Perhaps, it has been dead since long ago. I had no idea that since I first became a mourner and tore my enemies to pieces over the corpses of my family, I had come all the way here as a corpse.

Because his soul and heart were still held there.

Only then did Llewelyn realize that he had chosen the wrong race.

I realized the separation I would face in the future, the difference in my lifespan, and the loss I would experience again and again.

I also knew that it was my job to overcome it.

He understood the image of the ‘father’, who was called a steward as a child of man and god, and mourning.

“Thanks to you, it was fun.”

The hand of an unknown mourner grasps Llewelyn’s shoulder. Tap, tap. The weakly tapping hand slowly goes down.

Until it lands on the ground and doesn’t move anymore.

“… “Old man.”

No answer comes back. He was an unknown person until the end.

It wasn’t because we hadn’t known each other for a long time. He didn’t even want to leave his name

Naturally, people called him by his title his, not his name his

I could tell his personality by the warmth in that title. He was a very warm person, considering he had lived a long life without contact with people.

Llewellyn coaxed her, even though he knew it didn’t mean anything.

“I really enjoyed it.”

Of course, no answer comes back. Llewelyn placed the still body of a mourner on the floor and then stood up.

“He’s dead.”

She listened to her quietly spoken words. When she turns her head, what she sees is a completely white woman.

Only her arms were painted bright red.

“Is the father’s power too strong for a person to endure?”

Her presence, manner of speaking, everything was different from before.

That was not the Nerilmaeus he knew. She was twisted, but still had human emotions inside her, and now she had completely changed.

She was now a handy tool.

Llewellyn swallowed her burning hatred. Because what we need now is not hatred.

“But what about you, charlatan?”

She said that as if she had a reason that she never had before. Even though Llewell Lin did not respond, she walked slowly and spoke to her.

“You have the grace of the ‘Father’…”

Exciting!

There was a huge presence blocking her speech. The mouth that was open closed, and the gray-colored pupils contained a gray spreading divinity.

A divinity that beautifully embroiders the world and is filled with mournful passion.

“Miracle-”

Mouth opens. The words that came out went beyond reason. In the form of an overlay on this world, a new law is imposed.

A mourner naturally came to mind in Llewellyn’s mind. The man, whose name she never wanted to reveal for the rest of her life, died that day and what remained was this living corpse.

Finally, even though it was an unfavorable and impossible fight, he went to the battlefield for the last time to help.

Llewelyn thought of that big but small back.

“―Implementation.”

This is inherently impossible. However, a miracle is a power that transcends the inherently impossible.

The divinity wrapped around Llewellyn’s body made the impossible and brought it into reality.

“… “You?”

As soon as she is divine, there are limits to her ability to enhance her body. Llewelyn learned that fact from the God of Vengeance.

In other words, it is like attaching a piece of iron to her body and using it as armor, or pouring a bucket of water into it to protect her body.

To put it simply, even those two powerful elements were no different from not using them.

So what you need is a frame and shell to hold the shape.

Miracles were, so to speak, the foundation that would take the form of divinity.

Llewellyn let out a deep, hoarse breath and erased the tear marks from the corners of her eyes.

She doesn’t stand a chance in the fight. With her physical ability being stronger than that of Llewelyn, she was able to get everything that Llewelyn originally wanted to get into her hands.

She cannot be won by a simple fight.

So, what does it take to win?

Llewelyn knew the answer.

“Mourner, Ulrich.”

Llewelyn read the life of a mourner.

His loss, his pain, and the happiness and peace he finally found again.

Even the determination to protect it at all costs.

His determination takes shape within Llewelyn. Let divinity flow, take shape, and unleash its full potential.

[Mourning]

[Time remaining: 60 seconds]

[Mourning]

[Time remaining: 60 seconds]

Two windows appear simultaneously in the corner of the eye.

But one was not real mourning.

Mourning replaced by miracles and divinity. The life of a mourner, embodied in the divinity of Llewelyn.

The strength grew from my clenched fist.

Not just the power originally given to Llewelyn, but the power of a kind man.

The power of a mourner who lost everything, went on a journey, and finally found a place to close his eyes.

“How-“

Whoosh, I hear the sound of the wind falling. The sound of air escaping from a space caught in a force so powerful.

Neril Mayus, who was trying to ask how he did it, did not even notice his fist his his his his coming towards his face his his his.

The forest shook, and Nerilmaeus’ body flew along with the ground rising as if it had been cut out.