Chapter 95
Chapter 95
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: Fire Toward Dawn (8)
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The old man was clad in the same crimson, ornate robe as Awn Phira. It was attire reserved only for the Tower Lord or the tower's mages. He met Ronan's eyes and grinned.
"Vajra."
It was a horrific voice that Ronan still couldn't get used to. The pressure crushing his lungs made breathing difficult. An evil aura he'd never felt before permeated the air.
No explanations were needed. The Demon's Grimoire had manifested before his eyes. Vajra, wearing a smile like a crack in reality, opened its mouth.
"...That old man is Lardan."
Ronan twisted his lips upon seeing Tower Lord Lardan's state. His two pupils were entirely blackened. Ink-black tears streamed down his wrinkled cheeks.
The main body is that book.
Suddenly, Ronan's gaze fell on the book in Vajra's hand. The massive, thick tome was grotesquely fitting for the king of forbidden books—it was large enough to serve as a tray.
At the center of its water buffalo-hide-thick cover was embedded a fist-sized eyeball. Its vertically slit pupil was fixed on Ronan. Bulging veins spiderwebbed out from the eye's center.
What an ugly fucking thing. Ronan muttered inwardly, furrowing his brow. Vajra continued.
"Why pull this bullshit?"
Vajra smacked its lips. It boasted proudly about manipulating Sion de Grancia to start the war.
So it was this scrap of paper that controlled Grancia's third daughter. Recovery, huh? Did it weaken while sealed?
"What do you want?"
"You won't just let those people go."
Ronan jerked his chin toward Awn Phira and Aire. They were bound tightly to the altar, covered in blood.
He had no idea how it had captured them, but they looked in dire straits. Vajra, letting out a sinister chuckle, closed the book and stood.
He hadn't noticed while it was sitting, but it was nearly two meters tall. Vajra extended a spindly index finger like a hoe handle, pointing at Ronan's chest.
"My body?"
Ronan furrowed his brow. It wasn't an appealing offer. At that moment, the bound Aire gasped.
"Ugh... Ronan, no..."
At the same time, Vajra pointed at her with its finger. Sizzle...! The chains binding the two glowed red-hot, smoke rising. A scream burst from Aire's mouth.
"Haa, aaaahhh!"
"Kuh... Don't listen...!"
Awn Phira also let out a groan of agony. The stench of burning flesh filled the air.
Aire's form flickered as if it might vanish any moment. Ronan snarled, hand on his sword hilt.
"Damn it, stop that now."
Vajra nodded. The chains returned to their normal color, and the screams stopped. A sly sneer curled its lips.
"And if I refuse?"
Vajra laughed. In an instant, eerie mana flared like wildfire, distorting the surrounding space. Ronan's eyes widened at the sudden sight of a desert.
"What the... fuck."
The dim room had vanished without a trace. The gritty feel of sand underfoot was vivid. The sunlight pouring from above was scorching. It was too realistic to be an illusion.
Vajra casually waved its hand, altering the landscape around them. With every blink of Ronan's eyes, the world transformed.
A rain-lashed jungle, an icy tundra with scales of frost, the Imperial capital Valon stretching to the horizon.
Finally, waves of flame erupted from its body, engulfing everything. As the room snapped back to normal, Ronan twisted his lips.
A monster.
It was on another level. Not even Saranten or Awn Phira compared. Ronan spat on the floor and growled at Vajra.
"Showing off your strength?"
"Potential?"
True to the grimoire that had bewitched an emperor, its tongue was silver. Vajra boasted it could wield Ronan's body better than Ronan himself.
It was mule-shit talk closer to a beast than words, but given its display, it wasn't empty bluster. Suddenly, Vajra snapped its fingers.
Rumble! The four walls suddenly crumbled, revealing a vast space. The voices of the forbidden books, silent for a while, echoed sporadically.
Ronan's eyes widened as he looked around. Grimoires of every shape floated in the air, encircling their space.
Mana pouring from the wide-open grimoires was being absorbed into Vajra's body. They resembled roots nourishing a stem.
Ronan instantly realized this was part of the "recovery" it had mentioned. Vajra continued.
Vajra spoke arrogantly. Ronan didn't reply, but he knew this was a situation perfectly suited for despair.
We're fucked.
It was the worst crisis since his second life began. The power gap was secondary—the hostages were the problem.
As he frantically rolled his eyes searching for a way out, something familiar caught the corner of his vision.
Hm?
It was the sparkling mana symbolic of Nebula Klazie. So faint amid the chaos, it had only now registered. Watching the mana, Ronan tilted his head.
Why's that coming from there?
The mana flowed from an unexpected place. Not from the devoured Lardan's body, nor the massive book in his hand.
No way.
A possibility pierced Ronan's mind. A reckless plan formed in real time. It was a massive gamble, but he had no other options. Letting out a groan, Ronan spoke heavily.
"...I'll accept your offer."
"Keep your promise. Release them, then leave the Magic Tower."
"What do I need to do?"
Vajra cackled. Ronan closed his eyes as if resigned. A voice jubilant with joy echoed in the darkness.
Vajra strode forward and placed its hand on Ronan's forehead. Just as it began chanting a sinister incantation.
"Fuck off."
Ronan yanked his sword hilt. Vajra leaped back into a defensive stance in an instant. Incredibly fast reaction speed. It chuckled as if not surprised at all.
"Yeah?"
But La Mancha's blade wasn't aimed at it from the start. Ronan swung at the two bound to the altar.
Slash! A red arc deeply cleaved the altar. Red lines appeared at Awn Phira and Aire's waists, followed by geysers of blood. Their eyes widened.
"Ro, Ronan?!"
"Gah! Why...!"
"You made these illusions way too damn good. Cut it out already."
Ronan grimaced in disgust. Awn Phira and Aire's forms then dissipated like smoke. Suddenly, Vajra clutched its chest, dropping to one knee.
Splurt! Even as the illusion vanished, the blood geyser continued. Flickering mana burst forth like a beam.
Both originated from inside the sword mark carved into the altar. Crack! The altar split in two, revealing a pitch-black book from cover to pages.
That's the real body.
Aside from its blackness, it looked no different from ordinary books. The deeply slashed book writhed like a living thing, spewing red blood and sparkling mana.
Seeing the book not fully severed, Ronan clicked his tongue.
"Tch, didn't cut all the way through."
"I've got good eyes."
Ronan smirked. The gamble had paid off. The sparkling mana flowed not from elsewhere, but from inside the altar.
The creepy, flashy book was a decoy; the true body hid within. Ronan had spotted the mana piercing through Awn Phira and Aire's bodies, realizing they were illusions.
But what's its deal? Why's Nebula Klazie's aura coming from that book...?
However, the mana emanating from Vajra nagged at him. It sparkled so intensely it hurt his eyes.
The concentration was too thick for a Nebula Klazie member buried while unsealing it. As Ronan's thoughts wandered for clues, they latched onto the legend tied to Vajra.
A book written by a demon.
Perhaps the demon that authored Vajra was connected to Nebula Klazie. Ronan charged to finish it off.
The black book flew toward Lardan in an instant, burrowing into his chest. Like a water drop into a puddle, it vanished. Ronan cursed.
"Damn it."
Reunited with its true body, Vajra vomited black blood. It seemed the previous strike had dealt significant damage.
Crunch. Twisting its limbs grotesquely, Vajra's gaze finally fixed on Ronan. A roar that could shatter the world echoed.
Ronan gritted his teeth. His vision warped, and everything but Vajra and the grimoires began to vanish.
The dark blue stone walls, the bisected altar, the shadows dancing in the flickering torchlight—all crumbled to dust. Vajra, shedding black tears, slammed the ground and shouted.
"Hell Prominence!"
⟨ Hell Prominence ⟩
"What?"
Ronan's face hardened. A searing aura spread from Vajra. The magic circle blooming beneath its palm began expanding widely.
This won't be fun.
Soon, magical schematics erupting from floor and walls extended roots into the air. A whirlwind of screams filled Ronan's head.
Screams from the terrified grimoires. He swung at the air suspecting illusion, but regrettably, it was real magic with substance.
No choice.
Ronan gritted his teeth. It was too vast to stop by slashing a few parts. Killing the host Lardan offered the best chance.
Quickly deciding, Ronan swung at Vajra. Whoosh! As the sword aura shot straight for it.
Suddenly, the floor surged upward, blocking the path. Boom! Debris scattered with a thunderous roar.
"Damn."
It could use earth magic too, apparently. Ronan didn't give up, charging at Vajra.
Its movements were noticeably slower than before the ambush, but its mastery of earth magic made closing the distance difficult. Stone walls and rocky hands jutted out, obstructing him.
This is bad.
Meanwhile, the Hell Prominence magic circle grew brighter, as if ready to explode. Thousands of hypotheses to turn the tide swirled in Ronan's mind. Suddenly, one word flashed like lightning.
Counterfire.
He didn't know why it came to mind. But memories from his past life in the Penal Legion, deployed for wildfire suppression, drifted through his heated skull.
Suddenly, Ronan pulled a metal case from his inner pocket. Inside were scrolls handmade by Awn Phira.
Some bore magic powerful enough to obliterate a village. Dumping the case, Ronan grabbed five scrolls and tore them top to bottom.
Rip! The scrolls shredded, activating their embedded spells en masse. Mana in the air depleted, space warping with heat. Vajra's eyes widened at the sprawling three-dimensional magic circles beyond what he'd cast.
"If you're dying, we go down together."
Roar! Pillars of fire erupted unexpectedly, engulfing Vajra. Ronan recognized it as the same teleportation magic Awn Phira used.
This was the moment he'd waited for. Stealthily closing in, Ronan threw himself forward without hesitation. Crunch! Grabbing the wrinkled neck, he slammed Vajra to the ground.
"Got you, you shitty toilet paper."
The teleport cut off. Vajra thrashed, but the emaciated old man's strength couldn't shake Ronan. Finally relenting, it began chanting again.
Roar! Another pillar of fire engulfed Ronan and Vajra. Their forms vanished from the room. Simultaneously, the magic circles blanketing the space emitted brilliant light.