A Wish to Grab Happiness

Volume 7, Chapter 164: The Abnormality Licking the Throat

Volume 7, Chapter 165: Grabbing Happiness

At the end of Ariene’s line of sight, stood Filaret La Volgograd, whose lips shook slightly. She spoke soft but with firm words, and her demeanor looked elegant. A green light encircled her skin.

?I’m just extracting the magical power that has accumulated in this place. That’s all. There’s nothing to be afraid of.?

At the same time as her shoulders stirred, Filaret’s glossy black hair melted into the darkness. Her facial expression revealed exhilarating emotions such as joy or ecstasy. The atmosphere felt too different from when Ariene met Filaret in the drawing room. Ariene wondered if she were the same person for a moment.

Ariene’s narrowly golden eyes opened wide. Her lips shuddered as if she were looking for something. She was at a loss of words for a moment since she didn’t know what to say.

?Miss Filaret, what…No. Why are you doing this? ?

Ariene did not take her eyes off the presence in front of her, even though she had difficulty in breathing. During this time, Ariene felt that her skin gradually dried out, and her skull emitted a strange heat. A strange sensation, which Ariene had never felt before. “What is this?”

Filaret said she was extracting magical power. Ariene could not understand how and what it was specifically. Nevertheless, she accepted Filaret’s words as the truth. “Does this feeling mean that her frightening ability has stripped me of my mind along with my stolen magical energy? Is such thing possible?” Ariene’s eyebrows distorted and her brain kept swirling with questions.

Filaret’s black eyes swayed when she heard that question. Filaret looked attentively at Ariene and said.

?…Saint Ariene. What do you think a hero is??

Filaret’s response did not answer Ariene’s question. Instead, those words were too abrupt and confusing.

However, based on the tone of her voice, Filaret did not feel the need to react to Ariene’s question. Because, for Filaret, the change of topic seemed natural.

Involuntarily, Ariene pressed her lips and distorted her golden eyes.

Meanwhile, Mordeaux, who stood in front of Filaret, took a step further while holding his axe. He held his weapon in an offensive stance so that his servant would follow his lead. He clearly understood that Filaret’s existence was a threat. Yet, one could see a slight fear running on his legs. However, Filaret ignored Mordeaux and his servant. Filaret seemed to be waiting for Ariene’s words instead.

“What is a hero? That’s an abstract question. Some heroes may guide the people; others may be history-changed heroes, and others even champions. There is no such thing as a definitive answer. What answer is she looking for?”

Without waiting for Ariene’s answer, Filaret continued to speak. Only her voice resonated in the air amid the darkness of the night.

?Please excuse me. I may have asked you the wrong question. The point is… I wonder what makes a person a hero. That’s the kind of question I want to ask you.?

As usual, Ariene couldn’t figure out what Filaret was trying to say. However, her convincing lips, her black eyes, and the luminescence green light that emanated from her body, clearly showed a strong tenacity.

Ariene heard the sound of her back teeth shaking without stopping.

Still, Filaret’s tone was somewhat gentle and soft. However, her question contained a heavy emotion that was not very suitable for such a tone. That’s why Ariene felt uneasy. Her fingertips were cold enough to freeze.

Ariene opened her lips while desperately searching for words. She could feel the magical energy writhing within herself.

?…I don’t understand the meaning of your question. But if I were to give you an answer, would it not be the natural talent, the tide of history, and the grace of God??

“Of course, that’s not all. There are many other elements that contribute to a hero’s existence.”

“But if I dare to choose some foundations, then these are the ones. Without a natural talent, humans cannot rewrite history. Unless the tide of history is on a person’s back, it will not be possible to change history itself. Then, if you do not receive the favor of God, you cannot become a hero. A regular person will never become a hero.”

“Therefore, this is the answer I chose when asked about what makes a person a hero.”

Filaret received every single word from Ariene’s statement. Filaret’s lips shook as she whispered. A small voice. Yes, a small voice that seemed disappear in the dark.

…In other words, it means whether we are lucky or not.

At that moment, fear ran through Ariene’s spine. She felt that something engulfed her ears.

—

Filaret narrowed her eyes, nodding lightly upon hearing the words of Saint Ariene. Filaret felt the magical power, which would have been stored in Belfein, raging in her body like a muddy stream.

What made a person a hero? Natural talent, the tide of history and godly love. “I see; it’s not a mistake. Those foundations are indispensable to earn the name of a hero. However, it also means that the poor existence of human beings have a hard time grasping the thread of history.”

“So what determines whether or not we can grab these foundations? Is it unwavering effort? Or is it just an overflowing wisdom? Or is it having an experience of chewing bitterness with our own teeth?”

“No, that’s not it. Indeed, that’s not the case. Whether or not we can grab these foundations depends, after all, on whether or not we are lucky.”

At least, Filaret understood that much. She convinced herself that it was the unmistakable truth. And the truth was…“Nonsense. Ah, there’s a lot of nonsense.” A flame that expressed Filaret’s inner desires burned behind her black eyes.

Based on Saint Ariene’s words, if a person didn’t possess a natural talent, that said person couldn’t become a hero even if she or he made an effort to break the bones or suffer from the extreme pain of charred intestines.

Without the support from the tide of history, no one would attain the so-desired glory.

Then, without the grace of God, no matter how talented and glorious a person could be, conquering happiness would be impossible.

Filaret tried to understand it. In other words, without good luck, no one could be a hero. No one could hold glory, and no one could live a life of happiness. Nonetheless.

“What a joke. The person who wrote this script must be insane. If the one who wrote such a joke is sane, then I’d say that said person has twisted roots.”

“Is that script for all human beings? No, it’s not. It must have limitations when it comes to humans. Then, what is the only way for us to live? Do we have to accept the terrible life that just prays for good luck and for God’s grace and salvation? Does fate tell us that everything depends on how we are born, regardless of how we live?”

If that was the case. Yes, if God created this world as it was in the script, then the words that everyone shouted would be preordained in the end. If so, then every scream and every lamentation would be pointless. Indeed, endless shouts that would make one’s throat dry. Just as the poor who sought gold. Just as those who sought water in the desert. Filaret realized that every single human without talents or the grace of God would have a disadvantage in living the earthly life. “Then I say this…”

“…I wish I can grab happiness with my own hands.”