Chapter 276
Chapter 276
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 276
Chapter Title: Iril (2)
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"Mind if I head in?"
Ronan said. He had a bad feeling about this for some reason. Not having heard Elsia's response in the end, he stepped down toward the staircase.
The moment his foot hit the first step, the entrance began closing on its own. Startled by the whooshing sound, Cita jerked its head back.
"Pew?!"
"Guard the place well. If it gets too cold, you can head south and wait."
Ronan glanced back and waved. Cita was far too large to fit through the entrance with him.
"Pewba!"
"Got it. Be back soon."
Cita grinned as if wondering what he was so worried about. Unlike at first when it had been shivering from the cold, it seemed to have adjusted by now. Feeling much more at ease, Ronan pressed on.
The stairs were incredibly deep, just as he'd felt last time. Deep enough to wonder if he'd end up where the lava flowed.
From where the stairs ended, the ceiling of the corridor was lined with strangely shaped lanterns dangling and casting light.
'Still an amazing place no matter how many times I see it.'
The light sources, like fragments of the sun affixed there, were said to be made from some luminous diode material. A relic from when humanity's civilization had been at its most brilliant peak. It certainly lived up to the hype.
But there was no time to indulge in admiration, so Ronan hurried onward. Thanks to roughly memorizing the layout from his previous visit, he didn't get lost. Finally reaching the Savior's room, he spat a curse.
"...Fuck. Don't know the code here."
The iron door to the room where the Savior lay ill was firmly shut. Next to it was a metal panel even more complex than the one at the entrance.
'Shit.'
If he'd seen it even once, he would've remembered. But Elsia's shoulder had blocked several digits. From the number of beeps he'd heard, it seemed at least thirty characters long.
"Where the hell did that woman disappear to?"
He was in a bind. Ronan rested his hand on his sword hilt. The temptation to just slice the door open crept up.
The nearly expired year of grace was making him impatient. He still hadn't sensed Elsia's presence on the way here, and Abel's blood was tucked in his inner pocket.
Last time, he'd seen Elsia attempt to treat the Savior with her own blood. It was overly baseless confidence, but he felt like he could pull off something similar.
The method would be close enough—maybe it'd work somehow? As he tapped the hilt, pondering...
-Kwaaaaang-!!
"Holy shit, that scared me."
Suddenly, a massive explosion roared from above. The corridor trembled faintly, dust falling from the ceiling.
"What the hell?"
Ronan frowned. It was a huge blast. He could gauge its scale just from the shock reaching here.
It was deep underground, and this structure was built to protect some seed or whatever from external threats in the first place.
'Not a volcano.'
Something was off. Not a natural explosion, at least. Ronan's thighs swelled with mana reinforcement. Boom! Pinpointing the epicenter, he dashed down the corridor.
Boom! Boom! Each ground pound blurred the scenery past. The corridor was long and wide, but mana-boosted leg strength got him there quick.
'Here it is.'
Ronan halted. Mana pulsed from the ceiling far ahead.
The mana matching the explosion's wavelength shimmered with the unique sparkle of Nebula Klazier. Not Elsia's. Faint sounds of multiple people clashing drifted down too.
"What bullshit are they pulling now."
Ronan growled. He didn't know the details, but those bastards were causing havoc. Varka had been bad enough—did he really want this at the continent's edge?
Fortunately, it was close to the surface, so he could do something. Ronan drew his sword. Lamancha's blade gleamed crimson.
He'd worried about ruining the hideout earlier, but screw it—he'd fix it later if needed.
****
"Surrender, traitor!"
Archbishop Pasagard bellowed. Mana swirled violently, gathering in his hands. He was locked in large-scale battle amid a frozen sea.
His spells' scars littered the snowy plain—deep, wide craters like fallen stars. Believers who'd come to the Sea of Ghosts with him chanted defensive spells at his side.
"Fall back, you beasts!"
"Kurrheong!"
They covered for the offense-focused archbishop. Over a hundred translucent beasts swarmed the barrier, assaulting it. Each swipe from low- and mid-tier spirits cracked the shield bit by bit.
"Trust in the archbishop and hold!"
"Don't retreat!"
But no worry showed on the believers' faces. They trusted his power.
Pasagard rewarded that trust, slamming his left hand to the ground. Kwaaaang! Explosions erupted around the barrier, vaporizing spirits instantly. He shouted again.
"Surrender now, or eat another! Bow your head while you can!"
His rage echoed over the snow. Elsia didn't respond. She stood beside one of his craters, grayish-white hair whipping in the wind.
"...Troubling."
Elsia muttered. Things were worsening. But retreat wasn't an option, so she quietly incanted.
A red magic circle bloomed behind her, and a land turtle with reddish hues lumbered out. Towering 3 meters at the shoulder. She said,
"Please, Bayardo."
"Hwaaaam..."
The high fire spirit Bayardo. Blocking her front, it blinked before yawning wide. Kwaaaaang!! Flames surged from deep in its throat toward Pasagard.
"Futile!"
Pasagard yelled. Amplifying his mana, he thrust his hand at Elsia. Space around her contracted to a point—then detonated.
Kwaaaaang-!! The merciless roar shook the frozen sea. North winds cleared the smoke, revealing Elsia. Bayardo, over-damaged, was reverse-summoned and vanishing.
"Cough, cough...!"
"Hahaha! Pathetic sight. A traitor clinging to life by our Order's power!"
Pasagard laughed maniacally. A bizarre, shimmering force field enveloped Elsia—the Star's Blessing she'd received directly from the Savior before.
'That was close.'
She bit her lower lip. Losing a high spirit in one go? Even against a former Dawn Tower Lord, she shouldn't be pushed this far.
All-nighters researching for half a month had wrecked her condition. Not enough mana to call Hiran, and weakened spirits couldn't perform.
The initial ambush had been devastating too. Her clothes hung in tatters from the first blast.
Surrender. Surrender. Repeating the word, Elsia finally turned to Pasagard. She spoke.
"I refuse."
"Ha!"
Pasagard scoffed at her recasting. He'd tried leniency for an old superior, but talks were dead.
"Fine then—I'll obliterate you without a trace!"
Better this way. Filthy traitors deserved to be dust. As he began another custom explosion spell—Shwick! Crimson light flashed at his feet.
"Ugh, what?"
Something streaked past. Blinking instinctively, he saw his severed left arm.
"...Huh?"
Pasagard's eyes widened. He couldn't process it. Mana gathered at his left hand dispersed weakly.
"What is this...?"
"A-Archbishop!"
Believers cried out in shock. Blood from the stump soaked the snow. Elsia's doing? Despite their defenses?
Burning pain hit. Realizing reality, he opened his mouth to scream—Puk! Crimson flashed again at his feet, something sharp slashing his throat. His body and head parted.
"......!"
No last words. Some believers finally noticed something rising from the ground. Two red crescents sliced the distant sky.
"W-what is that?!"
They soon realized they were sword auras. Panicking believers debated focusing on their headless archbishop or the unknown foe—Boom! Boom!! Seven more identical sword auras erupted from the ground.
"Kwaaaak...!"
"Heok!"
Nine red crescents shot skyward total. Severed bodies danced in the air. Each 5m-wide aura cleaved everything in its path.
"...Hm?"
Elsia's eyes narrowed. She hadn't done anything yet. Even incanting, it'd be too late.
Rumble...! The ice floor crumbled. Amid the collapse, a shadow leaped up. The young man landing surveyed the gore and grimaced.
"Ugh. Messy."
Like spilling sauce everywhere. He'd fired auras expecting something above, but more and finer pieces than anticipated. Seeing his face, Elsia's eyes went wide.
"...Lord Ronan?"
"What, Elsia?"
Ronan raised a brow. The woman he'd scoured for stood there. Thud! Ignoring screaming believers, he landed before her. He tilted his head.
"What happened here?"
"...That's what I'd like to know."
Elsia stared blankly, as if unsure if it was dream or reality. Ronan reached out, brushing grimy hair from her face.
"Pweeeee-!!"
Suddenly, a familiar cry echoed overhead. Ronan looked up and chuckled dryly. Cita flapped its four wings, flying in.
"Quick arrival."
Ronan smirked. He could leave the trash to Cita. None seemed strong anyway—who caused that explosion?
'Not Elsia, probably.'
Lots of questions. But Ronan's task was clear. Wiping blood from his face, he told Elsia,
"Dunno the details, but let's wrap this up quick. I'm in a rush."
"...You'll need to explain."
"No need for long talk. Here."
Rummaging his inner pocket, Ronan pulled something out. The small vial was covered in protective spells. Inside the clear glass, faintly purple liquid sloshed.
"No way."
Elsia's face hardened instantly. Recognizing the liquid took no time.
Her steady breathing from the Pasagard fight grew ragged. Her mouth parted softly.
"......You really got it. You."