novelraw Chapter 236 : This Time, I Bet on Myself to Win
Chapter 236 : This Time, I Bet on Myself to Win
Chapter 236: This Time, I Bet on Myself to Win
“Last, second-year student at Starfall University, Night Traveler. His registered Nightblade is ‘Copy Eye’, the Nightblade’s effect is to record and copy supernatural abilities he has personally witnessed, within a limited scope.”
“In less than a year, he rose like a comet, advancing rapidly from the entry level of the supernatural to the peak of the Sixth Tier. Yet, both his background and résumé are unverifiable. His first appearance in the public eye was as a transfer student to Starfall University, as if his previous experiences simply did not exist.”
“Based on investigations in the Imperial Capital over the past few weeks, and a comprehensive analysis of his name, appearance, Nightblade, background, and personality—”
“There is over a seventy percent probability that this Night Traveler from Starfall University… is the same Last of the Shoreguards, once an accomplice in the Battle of the Fractured Coastline during the Sixth Era, who assisted Sisel in slaying the legendary Bounty Sequence Noah.”
“For reasons related to the Nightworld, he successfully survived the Cataclysm of the Era’s End and lived from the Sixth Era into the Seventh.”
“And that so-called Nightblade ‘Copy Eye’ capable of duplicating supernatural abilities is, in essence, the foundation that was stolen from us by the first generation of Shoreguards during the Fourth Era—‘The Fool’s Library’. Upon full awakening, ‘The Fool’s Library’ is capable of encompassing all things, replicating the complete set of abilities from all twenty-one Higher Sequence Tiers.”
Outer district of the Imperial Capital, in a secluded house near the outskirts.
Someone seemed to be murmuring to themselves, or perhaps recording—or even conversing with someone.
“The divination-based abilities I possess, as well as the prophecy-type Sacred Relics, are all ineffective against this supernatural being named Last… he has been interfered with and disturbed by a higher being. That is the protection of an angelic rank, casting a layer of impenetrable fog over his fate.”
“A preliminary hypothesis suggests this is a blessing bestowed upon him by Grey, successor to Sisel of the Sixth Era, a Shoreguard angel of the Fate Sequence. With my current power, I am unable to surpass that layer of protection or pierce through the fog to glimpse his destiny.”
“In fact, because ‘The Fool’s Library’ itself contains records of Grey the Fate Angel’s powers, he may even be able to ignore the disparity in rank and reverse the flow—using prophecy and divination against me instead… my movements toward the Imperial Capital may already be known to him.”
“Starfall University, with its doctrine of exploring the Nightworld and suppressing the Twilight Calamity… has irreconcilable contradictions with us. There is no possibility they will offer me aid. Therefore, I attempted to negotiate with the King of Granwell, Allen, offering a Sacred Relic as leverage to obtain the Empire’s assistance in our pursuit of the Shoreguards. Now, only one week remains before the agreed deadline.”
“The other side possesses the Holy Sword. At a conservative estimate, he holds the combat capability of a Quasi-Angel, and as the sovereign of the Empire, if we gain his aid, the Shoreguards will have no place to hide.”
“On the other hand, if the Empire refuses—I will proceed with my alternative plan, such as taking hostage a close friend of the current generation of Shoreguards… to force them to reveal themselves.”
There was a slight pause in the voice, before it chose to add one final note.
“Lastly… there has been a disturbance within the Granwell Empire. They’ve announced the next heir to the throne, who is to be married today. The true intention behind this move remains unclear.”
…
About five kilometers away from that house, having already exited the city limits of the Imperial Capital, stood a viewing platform nestled in the mountains and forest.
The terrace was located halfway up the mountain and usually served the Foresters, allowing them to observe the ranges and monitor the forest for signs of fire. Once signs of smoke appeared, it was a designated surveillance post for immediate reporting.
In a sense, it was also the origin of Shiltina’s family name, that so-called title of “Forester”.
And there knelt Last on one knee, sitting low upon the platform.
Before him lay a long sniper rifle, its iron-gray metal barrel reflecting the moonlight.
Reflected within the scope was the silent world under the night, and the window of the house where the Gravekeeper Quasi-Angel stood.
Long-range sniper rifle, “Sevenfold Perspective”.
Alongside “Iron-Marked Moon”, these were the two weapons that had accompanied Last the longest—back when Last had yet to become a Night Traveler, and they were not yet Crest Equipment. From the inferno of the Iron Cross Clan at Deep Blue Port to this very day, they had been by his side.
Now, under the enhancement of the Sacred Relic “Mechanical Flame Source”—a pinnacle artifact of Sixth Era scientific advancement—this outdated firearm of the Steam Age had finally been reconstructed and elevated, granted a brand-new form.
Five kilometers—beyond the effective range of nearly all present-day firearms and optical scopes.
Yet in Last’s eyes, the mouth movements of the Gravekeeper were clearly visible. He could even deduce the opponent’s words by reading their lips.
“Distance 4730 meters, wind speed 1.3 meters per second, direction east-southeast, fluctuation within 0.2… temperature 8 degrees, humidity 44%, estimated ballistic deviation 0.7.”
A female voice crackled through the static-laced earpiece Last wore.
It was Ingrid’s voice. She was acting as Last’s spotter. Once a member of the military, she was naturally well-acquainted with the process of sniper operations.
By all rights, considering the marksmanship honed by Last over hundreds of years in the hell of Deep Blue Port under the Iron Cross, he did not require a spotter for conventional sniping.
But this was no ordinary shot… a five-kilometer sniper attempt had virtually no precedent in history. Extreme caution was more than justified.
“Distance 4730 meters, wind speed 1.4 meters per second, direction east-southeast, humidity 45%.”
“Last… do you really intend to go through with this?”
After a long silence, Ingrid finally could not hold back and asked.
She knew the one to whom she had sworn loyalty was no reckless man. Anything Last resolved to do had always been the product of careful deliberation, never shaken by others’ opinions.
But Ingrid also knew—the target of this shot was a true Quasi-Angel… one foot already stepped into the Legendary Realm. One more step, and they would become a true angel.
This was an unprecedented move, an act with no reference, no model to follow—
A single misstep, and what awaited Last would be an abyss beyond salvation.
“To cower behind a woman, to sacrifice her for the sake of preserving my own safety—that’s something I could never do.”
Last continued to gaze into the world within the sniper scope, and smiled slightly. “Besides, the Gravekeepers aren’t the only ones who hate the despicable thief who stole ‘The Fool’s Library’.”
“Between me and the Gravekeepers… there are quite a few debts left unsettled.”
“Sisel the leader, the Shadow Servant, the townsfolk of Frozenwater Town, and countless Shoreguard comrades who fell during the Battle of the Fractured Coastline… there are too many to count.”
“So, it’s not a matter of whether to do it—”
“But that it must be done.”
Last spoke softly.
“Once, in that blazing ruin.”
“A woman, broken and hopeless, entrusted everything she had to me… whether it be the rank of a Fate Angel, or the future from that point on. She bet everything on me. She bet that I would win.”
“Then this time, I too, bet on myself to win.”
His voice was calm, yet bore the dignity of a king.
And to Ingrid’s ears, it carried the weight of unquestionable authority.
“I understand now. I have overstepped, and forgotten my identity as a subordinate.”
“As per your command, all preparations have been completed.”
Ingrid’s respectful voice sounded.
She no longer asked questions, but continued to fulfill her role as spotter, reporting sniper data at extremely steady intervals.
“Distance 4732 meters, wind speed 1.4 meters per second, direction east-southeast, humidity 45%.”
“Distance 4730 meters, wind speed 1.5 meters per second, direction east-southeast, humidity 43%. There is a window obstructing the sniper trajectory, but it can be penetrated by an armor-piercing round.”
“Distance 4731 meters, wind speed 1.4 meters per second, direction east-southeast, humidity 44%. The target appears to have finished speaking and is expected to leave the room within ten seconds.”
...
Sniper data streamed in at a constant rhythm, and Last received it, analyzing it in his mind and forming a crystal-clear mental picture.
He slowly adjusted his breathing rhythm, and the air he exhaled turned into mist and dissipated into the cold night of early spring.
Last opened the magazine, reached out in a reloading motion, then closed it once again.
No physical ammunition was inserted into the sniper rifle during this process, yet from within Sevenfold Perspective came a distinct click—the sound of a bullet being chambered.
And as the sound of the round being chambered rang out, Last fell into complete silence.
In proportion to his rising body temperature, the light faded from his pupils, and the surrounding world seemed to freeze with a metallic clang.
He calmed the ripples of thought—not just silencing sound, but even emotion itself was sealed away… Within mere seconds, Last’s spirit had become completely synchronized with his surroundings, merged, and ultimately unified.
He entered a state of flow. In this state, his mind was emptied, merged with the world around him, no longer separate from it.
Every high-tier supernatural being possessed an extremely sharp intuition—one that could sense when killing intent was directed toward them from the outside.
If this were an ordinary sniper attempt, then even without actually firing, the instant a bullet was chambered and the trigger pulled, that Gravekeeper Quasi-Angel would have instinctively sensed the surge of killing intent and immediately evaded.
But Last was different. At this moment, he had turned himself into a hollow, soulless shell… a machine with no spirit, no mind, acting only under preset instructions. Naturally, it harbored no such thing as killing intent.
So even with the intuition of a Quasi-Angel, that Gravekeeper powerhouse could not detect Last’s presence—just as a person might sense murderous intent from someone wielding a knife, but could never feel any such intent from a falling meteor, even though the latter posed a far greater threat.
Dusk faded. The world fell into silence. Time slowed down.
Just as Shiltina, a pure swordswoman, controlled the battlefield the moment she gripped her rapier—
The instant the bullet was chambered, Last’s “temperature” governed the sniper rifle, the terrain around him, and the entire world reflected within the scope.
Deep within his soul, crimson-gold text began to sear and glow.
【Your “bond” with Shiltina Ingrit has deepened. “The Fool’s Library” has acquired a new power】
【“War Chariot” · Shiltina’s current bond level has increased from 6 to 7】
【You have unlocked a new Grimoire】
【Nightblade “Infinite Blade · Fantasia Collapse” has been unlocked】
【Infinite Blade · Fantasia Collapse (Unlocked): A superior ability beyond True Name Liberation—not the unsealing of a weapon, but its destruction from the source, unleashing ultimate destructive power during its annihilation.】
【Warning: Upon activating “Fantasia Collapse”, the weapon used will be destroyed on a structural level, unable to be repaired or restored.】
Perhaps it was the stimulus from the marriage forced upon him by his parents, but the bond level between Last and Shiltina, which had long been stagnant, finally broke through its shackles and reached the unprecedented seventh level.
And thus, The Fool’s Library finally unlocked the higher-tier ability of “Infinite Blade”, beyond that of True Name Liberation.
Fantasia Collapse—as the name implied, it was the total abandonment of the weapon, unleashing a power far exceeding True Name Liberation at the cost of destruction.
But its price was self-evident. It meant destruction at the structural level, unlike True Name Liberation which still allowed for possible restoration afterward.
And at this moment, what Last was using—was “Fantasia Collapse”.
In this world, no bullet existed that could harm a Quasi-Angel—be it armor-piercing rounds made of high-density alloy or high-explosive rounds.
Just like in the Historical Echo, when a mere thought from the Judgement Angel could trigger a Machine Calamity that engulfed the entire Western Continent… human technology remained far too fragile before true Mythic Beings.
Thus, to harm a Quasi-Angel—one must begin with the resolve to destroy the weapon itself.
With the power of “All Things Are Weapons”, Last fired Sevenfold Perspective itself as the bullet.
Trigger pulled. Bullet fired. Gunfire flashed.
Boom—
The sniper rifle that had accompanied Last through countless years disintegrated in an instant, bursting apart into countless shards of metal in midair, with no hope of repair.
At the same moment, within the Imperial Capital, countless supernatural beings involuntarily raised their heads.
And then—they saw, at the edge of the sky, a blood-red streak of light piercing the dusk like a falling star.