Chapter 116
Chapter 116
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 116
>Chapter Title: Ghosts of the Past
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*
Killing a high-level mage is difficult. Literally, ‘difficult.’
Regardless of their school, all mages have a variety of bizarre methods for creating redundancies for their own lives. Be it through protection spells or life-preservation enchantments.
If asked to name the school of magic most difficult to kill, Ivan would think of necromancers without a moment’s hesitation.
Half the reason is the spell known as the Lichification ritual, which involves splitting one's soul and preserving it in a phylactery.
The other half is that, even if you manage to destroy their physical body, the body itself is wrapped in terrible curses.
The worst of them, of course, was Abiditas. Not only was his true form that of a dragon, making his power alone enough to face an army, but upon his destruction, he would unleash a torrent of curses, only to resurrect and return within ten minutes.
He soared through the sky, raining down curses like a bombing run, and commanded tens of thousands of the dead. If you managed to break through all that to reach his main body, you had to face an undying dragon in close combat.
Magic power that could burst your heart just by meeting his gaze, a curse that rotted everything within sight, and a divine power that could shatter your mind just by hearing its whisper.
The incarnation of desire. An evil dragon who, in life, had mastered a thousand spells, collected a thousand treasures, and laid waste to a thousand cities. The master of all necromancy and the undead.
The Lord of the Death Dragon, Abiditas.
Ivan always counts that time as one of the most horrific battles of his life. It was the day he faced his most vicious adversary, the day that took the most from him.
Perhaps that is why. Ivan sometimes dreams of that day. The content of the dream is always different, but the result is the same. Everyone dies except for him. They look at him, whispering as if in resentment.
You, stranger from the outside world. How is it that you alone survived?
Ivan could never answer. He could only replay that day's battle in regret.
If only I had moved a little faster. If only I had charged a little harder.
If only I hadn't made that choice, hadn't made that judgment, hadn't attacked in that way.
Like a defeated player reviewing a match. He would retrace every move, lamenting. If I had done that, would one more person have returned alive? he would think.
But like all regrets and laments in the world, Ivan's review always ends with the same conclusion in his solitary replay. Regret changes nothing. He was still alone.
You, stranger from the outside world.
Such a voice echoes from outside the window after he finishes his review.
Perhaps it is the specter of those who departed, or perhaps it is the lament whispered by his own reflection in the glass.
It has been this way since the war ended.
*
But now the dragon was dead, and the maggots feeding on its corpse were parading as the dragon itself.
Audaciously, they claimed they would have their revenge on him.
The right to revenge was never theirs. It should have been his alone. They did not have the right to even speak the word.
“Next.”
“Uh, uhm… this is the one, right?”
“Correct.”
- *Pshk.*
Ivan jammed the needle into his forearm and shattered the cylinder. With a hissing sound, the drug was sucked into his bloodstream.
A sharp sensation started in his forearm and gnawed at his entire body, as if eating him away. A potent drug is fundamentally a potent poison, and even his enhanced body was having an adverse reaction.
[Come out—!! Show yourself, Ivaaann!!]
A booming voice swept across the entire factory district. Rats and bats scuttled through the buildings, searching for him.
There wasn't much time. Ivan sequentially injected the drugs Lucia handed him into his forearm while slowly tuning his magic.
Immunoboosters, magic resistance enhancers, neurotoxin neutralizers.
These were drugs akin to poisons, dealing a massive blow to his liver, magic organs, and central nervous system. But it was fine. His superhuman body, thankfully, had the strength to endure them all.
Pouring the undiluted concoctions—substances that even alchemists would dilute as much as possible when performing the most gruesome surgeries—into his system, Ivan could feel his internal organs being destroyed in real time.
The smell of iron filled his nose. Blood welled up without him realizing, coating his throat as it went down.
This much was necessary. If his opponent possessed even a fraction of the power of the true Abiditas. He would have to do everything his team had accomplished, but alone and without support.
Had they not spent years honing their skills for the sole purpose of revenge, plundering the legacy of the dead Abiditas to bolster their own flesh?
Ivan was never arrogant. In this world, only he knew the limits of his abilities. Combat capability is a kind of tool, and a good agent must know the exact catalog specs of the tools they use.
Therefore, Ivan did what was necessary. He silently poured toxins into his body. Abiditas could never be faced alone, and his disciples would have come here just as prepared as Ivan.
And Ivan, too. He had absolutely no intention of running away from this place today.
Only death would remain as today’s conclusion. His, or theirs.
- *Hoo….*
The final attunement was complete. Ivan closed his eyes and calmed his feverish body. His heart was pounding.
“Lucia.”
“Yes, Senior….”
“Transmit to Enrique. Request rescue at rally point 3 in three hours.”
“What…? What?”
“You will now run to rally point 3 with all your might. Your role is now over.”
“B-but, Senior!”
“This is a fight with nothing to be gained from watching.”
Ivan replied coldly to the bewildered Lucia.
From the beginning, Lucia’s purpose in this operation was twofold. Real-time information exchange with Enrique, and the process of teaching Lucia actual combat.
At this final stage of the operation, communication with Enrique was meaningless. Kill or be killed. Whatever the outcome, the ‘other operation’ would proceed as planned.
And there was no need to teach Lucia this fight. This kid was destined to be a member of the Hero’s party, so there was no need for her to learn how to fight alone while accepting casualties.
This kid would have comrades to support her from the rear. Unlike him.
Therefore, this battle must not become a textbook example. That era had to end with his. Even the Hero did not face the Demon King alone.
This was a fight for those who couldn't become the Hero, who couldn't be part of the Hero's party. A struggle of ordinary people. A battle of mere mortals. A battle of men, not transcendent heroes.
Ivan opened his eyes and stood up. Lucia, who had been meeting his gaze for a long while, pursed her lips and swallowed her words.
“Go.”
“Men… you are all…!!”
Lucia burst into tears. She continued, her voice choked with sobs.
“Next time, next time at school. You have to teach me the rest. I, I still want to learn. Even if I don’t need to know how to fight alone, I absolutely want to learn how to fight as ‘two.’ Do you understand?”
When Ivan didn’t answer, Lucia stepped onto the windowsill and looked down at him.
“This is the last time I’ll be a burden. From now on, in a situation like this, you won’t have to fight ‘alone.’”
“You are still not good enough to become an excellent agent.”
“Haha… your standards are way too high.”
Lucia grumbled softly and disappeared into the darkness outside the window. A characteristic vampire movement. Ivan’s eyes followed the long trajectory she left behind.
The moisture she left in her wake was more befitting a human than a vampire.
Ivan did a final check of his gear, then headed to the window on the opposite side. Towards the sniper point that overlooked the center of the factory district. He picked up his axe, counted his bullets, and tightened his armor plates.
Reminding himself of the effective duration of the drugs flowing through his body.
*Tap.* With a light footstep, Ivan’s body vanished from the window.
*
- *Thud.*
A single person landed in the middle of the clearing.
The noisy chittering of venomous insects, the fury-spewing necromancers, the dwarves muttering in tension. The clamor from everyone present died down.
In the thick, greasy silence, the man who had appeared slowly raised his head.
[Ivan Petrovich—!! I thank the heavens that you are still not dead!!]
Jubilation broke the silence and echoed forth. Beyond the terrified dwarves, a massive skeletal dragon cast its shadow.
Ivan stared silently at the shadow. It was an object that very closely replicated Abiditas at the time of his death.
Perhaps because they couldn't retrieve the dragon's remains, the monster's skeleton was composed of countless human bones. A grotesque thing, pieced together like a mosaic.
But its intimidating presence was on a similar level. A multitude of hatreds, grudges, obsessions, and curses were intertwined, pulsing like veins.
[Behold, behold what you failed to achieve. You did not survive. Your death was merely postponed. You have returned to the depths, returned to face your own demise!]