Roy… Don’t Die

Though it all seemed a bit much, in reality, only a brief time had passed from the moment the Black Prince appeared to the moment Roy hunted him down and slew him. This once-dominant god-slaying demon king had fallen—quickly and decisively.

Alexander Gascoigne's Authorities were all based on traps, deception, and strategy. His fighting style resembled that of a traditional magician, requiring meticulous preparation. But in a chaotic, unpredictable battle like this, his powers proved useless.

Unlike Marquis Voban, Gascoigne was not a combat expert. And Roy, well he had become far more powerful than when he had first fought Voban.

His divine power had multiplied, his Authorities had evolved, and with Athena's support. Well, Gascoigne never stood a chance.

"One less Campione in the world now. You know, I think I'd be a much better fit for the role of the Last King."

Roy spoke casually as he pulled his sword from Gascoigne's heart.

By now, the Black Prince's internal organs were completely destroyed—his body held together only by the superhuman vitality of a Campione.

For a mortal, such injuries meant an instant death. Even for a Campione, there was no saving him. His injuries were that dire. No amount of magic could heal wounds this severe. Only an extraordinarily powerful healing Authority could restore him now, or maybe an authority of resurrection.

But Roy's Clairvoyance told him that no Campione in existence possessed such abilities. Even Madame Aisha's healing Authority was ineffective on Campiones.

And Gascoigne? Well, he had no means of resurrection.

"Come, Athena. Let's go."

Roy turned and walked away.

Athena, now returned to her loli form, trailed behind him.

The Gorgoneion had already returned to Roy's body, and the goddess of wisdom hesitated for a moment before speaking. She glanced at the fallen Gascoigne, then turned to Roy.

"You're really just going to leave them alone?"

Roy smiled knowingly.

"They've been friends for over ten years. For a dying man, the least we can do is give him a chance to say goodbye."

Reaching out, he ruffled Athena's silver hair.

The goddess scowled at him in irritation, her sharp golden eyes flashing. Roy only laughed in response. Then, before she could protest, he scooped her into his arms and soared into the sky.

As Roy and Athena vanished into the distance. A beautiful, elegant woman materialized beside the dying Black Prince.

It was the White Princess, Alice Louise of Navarre.

Gascoigne let out a weak, bloody cough.

"Agh… cough… cough… What are you doing here?"

His voice was frail, but still held a flicker of annoyance.

"Come to laugh at me in my final moments?"

Alice let out a soft sigh. She moved gracefully, stepping toward him, gazing down upon his broken, defeated form.

"…Do you regret it?"

Gascoigne let out a weak chuckle.

"Since when did you become so sentimental? Shouldn't you be mocking me right now? Your kindness feels… unnatural."

For a brief moment, as if in a final surge of life Gascoigne's face flushed with color and energy. He seemed almost alive again, his voice clear, his words steady. Then after a brief pause, the once-arrogant Campione softened his tone.

"…Forget it. It's too late to argue now."

He then let out a slow breath.

"Regret? No. Never. This is the fate of Campiones. Death is inevitable. I just… met mine a little sooner than expected."

His lips curled into a bitter smile.

"From the moment I became a Campione, I knew that I would die. But I never imagined it would be like this. I didn't fall to a heretic god. Nor was I slain by the Last King. Instead… it was one of my own kind that struck me down."

He let out a breathless, amused chuckle.

"I'm not like those oblivious fools. From the moment I learned about Campiones, I wondered why are there no ancient ones left? Why have they all disappeared? And that's when I knew that one day… I, too, would vanish. Just like all the others before me, that I too would be an insignificant ripple in our grand history."

His voice grew weaker.

"I was worshipped in life… but in death, I'll be forgotten. Can you name a single Campione of the past? Anyone still remembered in history? No, not a single one. That's because nobody remembers them." (T/N: Right, let's ignore the time period that Aisha came from)

His vision blurred. His body grew colder.

"That's the tragedy of being a Campione. We are worshipped and revered as kings while we live. But in death, we leave nothing behind." (T/N: Pretty sure that Blandellis are descendants of a Campione)

Alice said nothing. She simply listened to him ramble. For all his flaws, Alexander Gascoigne was not a hero. But he lived on his own terms. Even now, as death claimed him, he accepted it with a bitter smile.

"Time's almost up, Alice… I was a pain in your ass, wasn't I? I caused you trouble… nearly got you killed… more than once. But even now… even at the very end… I refuse to apologize. I'll…never… apolo…gize…"

His eyelids grew heavier. His vision darkened. His breathing slowed.

Until it stopped.

"Even in death, he still clings to his pride."

Alice let out a small, sad smile.

"Some things just never change."

She had never truly liked Gascoigne. But she had never hated him, either. For years, they had been rivals, verbal sparring partners, even reluctant allies.

And now, now he was just gone.

Elsewhere, in Manhattan…

Roy and Athena stood atop a skyscraper, gazing down at the battle unfolding in the distance.

Annie Charlton clashed fiercely against the Rebel Leviathan, a Divine Ancestor who had temporarily regained their divine authority.

Their fight raged on. But Roy and Athena? They had already slain the Black Prince.

And in mere moments, they had raced back from Canada to Manhattan at godspeed.

As they stood in silence, watching the battle below. A familiar ethereal figure appeared beside them.

Alice had returned.

The renowned princess of Europe showed no sorrow. Her expression was serene, a gentle smile on her lips as she approached.

But as soon as her gaze met Roy's, her voice turned soft and accusing.

"Roy, you were quite generous to let me have a private moment with Gascoigne. But for a maiden like me? That was really cruel, you know."

The White Princess's tone carried a trace of grievance, but Roy remained unmoved.

He merely chuckled and replied.

"Why would you be sad? I simply gave you a chance to say farewell to an old friend."

Alice pouted, her eyes glistening with both melancholy and mischief.

"Shouldn't a man be jealous when he cares about a woman? And yet, you left me alone with my 'old lover' without the slightest hint of jealousy. You didn't even ask what we talked about. It makes me wonder… do you even care about me at all?"

Her platinum blond hair shimmered under the moonlight, her delicate features almost heartbreakingly beautiful. She looked as if she might cry at any moment like a fragile, sorrowful damsel.

But Roy simply smirked, his crimson eyes gleamed as he winked at her.

"Alice, you're looking at this the wrong way. This is my trust in you." (T/N: Well played)

His voice then carried an unmistakable arrogance. While his gaze turned sharp and possessive.

"Besides, you already belong to me. No one can take you away. And certainly not a mere dead man."

His words were not a mere statement. They were an unshakable decree. A declaration of absolute domination.

Alice blinked in astonishment, before suddenly bursting into soft laughter. She shook her head, a wry smile curling at her lips.

"You really are a tyrannical man, Roy. But I suppose… that's exactly how a Demon King should be."

Her usual playful charm faded. For once, there was no teasing, no tricks. She stepped forward, and gently took Roy's hands in hers.

Her fingers trembled slightly and her gaze turned solemn.

"Roy… don't die."

Her voice was quiet but firm.

"I don't want you to follow the path of all the Campiones before you."

The concern in her star-like eyes was undeniable. Gascoigne's words still lingered in her mind. The fate of all Campiones had always been the same. Would Roy, too, one day meet that inevitable end?

The very thought sent a chill through her heart. She didn't want to lose him.

(T/N: Ignoring Campione's plot and the imminent awakening of Last King, there are more chances of him losing her to old age than Roy actually dying before her)

Roy's expression softened. Even though Alice stood before him as nothing more than an astral projection. He could still feel it. The warmth of her hands. The tremor of her fingers. The fear in her heart.

He tightened his grip on her hands.

And with unwavering certainty, he whispered.

"I won't die, Alice. And that's my promise to you."

Just as the words left his lips—

BOOM!

A brilliant light tore through the sky. A pillar of light erupted from the distant ocean. A sight akin to a nuclear explosion, its roar shaking the heavens.

The battle between Annie Charlton and the Rebel Leviathan had reached its final moments.

***

Sorry for disappearing for more than a month on you guys but I have been really busy. So busy in fact that I haven't opened this app in a long while, hence this almost slipped my mind for a while. But recently, I decided to get back to it. I can't promise chapters everyday, it may happen. But I will promise every 2-3 days at least. It will force me a bit but hopefully I will enjoy this fanfic alongside you since I don't read it when I don't translate it. So hopefully, see you tomorrow. Also, for those asking for raw's name, look it up on google. Its not that hard to find, search holy right mtl and you will get the chinese name on the mtl website.