Chapter 200
Chapter 200
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 200
Chapter Title: Martial God (2)
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Tiphereth, leaping between buildings as if flying, caught sight of it.
The massive COEX exhibition center, Seoul's largest convention complex, was enveloped in a gigantic circular barrier.
Within that otherworldly realm manifested by the oracle, countless people must still be dying even now.
And so Eloa decided that destroying the flute had to be her top priority.
Every barrier spell had a core and a catalyst.
In this case, the nucleus was undoubtedly Dagon's flute.
It was obvious that eliminating the barrier was essential to halt the spread of the damage.
But in its current state, pinpointing the flute's location was impossible.
This was a universal trait of barrier magic.
Barriers were typically designed to prevent observation from the outside or free passage in and out.
After all, their purpose was to sever the interior from the exterior and forge a new world.
The police and reporters, bewildered by the inexplicable phenomenon, probably couldn't even peek inside COEX, let alone enter it.
For Sua, the branch chief who would be saddled with cleaning up what might become the century's biggest incident, that was at least some small mercy.
But that wasn't important right now.
Eloa murmured her incantation.
"I contract."
⟨ Contract Magic ⟩
A soft mana settled into her magenta eyes, and the 'Light of Truth' began to shimmer.
Tiphereth's Self-Generating Magic was 'Contract Magic.'
A contract inherently demanded a price.
From this moment, her eyes would pierce through all deceptions and illusions.
Though once the contract ended, she would lose her sight for about an hour as payment.
As the power of the contract infused her eyes, the barrier obscuring her vision turned transparent like glass.
"Ah..."
Eloa spotted the flute from several kilometers away on the rooftop of the COEX Mall.
Scanning the surroundings next, her eyes suddenly filled with bloodshot rage.
There stood a white knight, identical to the enemy knight she had been pursuing, save for the color.
That alone might have merely puzzled her, not shaken Eloa to her core.
But then there was the black-armored figure locked in fierce combat against it.
Spotting that armor, Eloa felt a surge of intense emotion.
Two ribbons extended from its back waist.
The color was slightly different, but the shape was unmistakable.
It was the Self-Generating Magic of Ea Sadalmelik, the enemy who had stolen the life of her beloved Rafi—whom she had never forgotten for even a single moment of a single hour of a single day.
"That's right...!"
Ecstasy.
There was no other way to describe the explosive rush.
It incinerated her heart with thrilling pleasure, scattering the boredom, melancholy, and lethargy of recent days to ash.
"That's right, that's right, that's right. I believed. I believed you couldn't have died, you wretch."
She was alive.
Ea Sadalmelik was alive.
Just as Eloa had desperately hoped, she was perfectly fine, diligently up to her foolish antics even today.
The euphoria coursing through her veins revived every wilted hair on Eloa's body, filling her with vitality.
But soon, Eloa's face hardened rigidly.
Ea, still suffering the aftereffects of her defeat at the hands of Baron Merrygold, was inexplicably wielding a sword and shield in close-quarters combat.
She was using swordsmanship.
A deflection along a painfully familiar trajectory diverted the ferocious thrust of the white knight.
An overhead slash along that same familiar arc bisected the white knight's body.
Even knowing it was absurd fantasy, it was similar enough to make her wonder if the witch fighting valiantly there could be Rafi.
No doubt about it.
Tiphereth could never forget that swordsmanship, that way of moving the body.
It was the 'Contract of the King of All Diseases' inherited by Rafi, whom she had loved more than anyone.
Ea was brazenly wielding the contract she had stolen from Rafi as if it were her own.
Her mind, flooded with joy, plunged into a muddy quagmire of chaos.
Eloa's tightly clenched lips burst open, blood trickling down.
This was the ultimate insult, the deepest scorn.
She would kill her.
She would kill her utterly.
No, she wouldn't let her die easily.
She would shatter her completely, making her regret her sins and beg for death amid agony.
Eloa's foot kicked off the air.
In the blink of an eye, she landed on the shopping mall rooftop and mercilessly pulverized three white knights that might interfere.
What they were or their connection to the enemy knights didn't matter.
Wasn't the important target right there before her?
Wasn't the witch who would receive the full outpouring of her century-old grudge, hatred, and resentment waiting so endearingly?
"I've come to keep my promise."
Even crafting a grotesque shadow armor to mimic a knight was utterly repulsive.
The Contract of the King of All Diseases wasn't meant for her.
It was a vessel and contract Eloa had newly forged solely for Rafi.
She kicked off the ground.
Her body, empowered by six contracts.
She planted her feet.
Her front foot sank into the earth like soft mud, her back foot rooted flat as one with the ground.
The profound art of channeling energy through the feet—drawing from the essence of all martial traditions across history—shattered the crude armor like an insect's exoskeleton and tore into its interior.
"You haven't forgotten me, have you."
This was troubling.
A vulgar smile refused to leave her lips.
2.
There was a satisfying heft to it.
"Hoo..."
Watching Ea in her black armor tumble pitifully backward, Eloa performed her residual check.
The practice of regulating one's breath and scanning the surroundings without letting her guard down even after felling the enemy.
As the caster lost consciousness, the shadow-like black smoke armor dispersed.
Eloa, who had prayed to see her long-awaited enemy's face contorted in pain, froze stiff.
"A man?"
The identity of the one wielding the ribbons and freely using the contract stolen from Rafi was...
Shockingly, not Ea Sadalmelik at all.
Not even clear if he was a witch.
Despite torn eyelids painting half his face with blood, he had delicate features.
A man dressed in utterly mundane jeans and a T-shirt.
The reversal hit her like a blow to the head; Eloa even forgot what to do next.
Was this some scheme?
Perhaps an illusion spell to deceive her eyes?
But the mana in his stigma was pure.
Moreover, Eloa's eyes now pierced through falsehoods.
"What... is this..."
Dazed, Eloa fumbled over the man's body.
Unbelieving her eyes, she sought confirmation through touch.
An etheric body.
Due to the etheric form's trait of preserving the body in its peak state, she could feel well-developed muscles even over his clothes.
Was there a spell that could transform male and female bodies?
No, more importantly, had history ever recorded a man wielding magic of this caliber?
Or was this Ea's advanced deception?
Perhaps bait she had laid?
In her extreme confusion, the one who might provide answers was already unconscious.
"This, this... this..."
"Get out of the way!"
At that moment, a witch appeared on the rooftop.
Dark green-haired, clad in a witch's uniform yet wearing leather riding boots, complete with a wand in hand.
"Step back. If you don't move right now, I'll attack."
Reflective light shimmered in her blue eyes like flowing water.
A witch connected to the fallen man—likely an exile.
Since she hadn't struck first, she was probably wary of him getting caught in the crossfire.
"Did you do this?"
"What are you talking about? I would never do something like th—huh?"
The mana gathering and dispersing at the emerald tip of her wand vanished like a candle snuffed out.
"C-Could you be... Duchess Tiphereth?"
"Indeed."
Her distinctive pink hair among witches, the oracle 'Sword of Contracts' in hand.
Sharon, who had rushed breathlessly to COEX upon hearing the twins' message, recognized the identity of the one who seemed to have attacked Siwoo.
The tale of the duchess who wandered the mortal realm seeking vengeance after her apprentice witch was murdered a century ago was well-known.
"But... why did you attack Siwoo?"
From what she'd heard, she was a righteous witch.
She was the very one who had taken the initiative to establish location points while others made excuses about their circumstances and ignored the homunculi and public threats.
No matter how much Sharon puffed herself up, she had no way to face such a monster.
Thus, Sharon attempted dialogue before acting rashly.
"Perfect timing. Who is this man?"
Even after Sharon showed no hostility, Tiphereth kept her sword lowered but ready.
More than that, the aura emanating from her entire body suggested she would cut down Siwoo and Sharon alike at the slightest provocation.
"He's my friend. Definitely not a bad person! There must be some misunderstanding. He was fighting here to stop this incident. Just before, the Gemernai family's apprentice witches..."
"This one was using Ea Sadalmelik's and my apprentice's Self-Generating Magic. Do you think you can brush it off by claiming no connection?"
Sharon's words caught in her throat.
Who was Ea Sadalmelik?
Infamous for murdering Duchess Tiphereth's apprentice witch.
She knew Siwoo had overcome a near-death clash with her and become a witch, but using her Self-Generating Magic?
That was news even to Sharon.
But Sharon trusted Siwoo.
She didn't know the circumstances of this tangled mess, but Siwoo was undoubtedly a good person.
There was no way the atrocities the duchess feared had come from his hands.
Her experiences and memories with him attested to that.
But that judgment stemmed solely from Sharon's personal experiences.
The duchess, lacking such context, wouldn't simply back down on a third party's word.
"I get that the situation looks suspicious even to me. But it's really not. Siwoo might be a bit foolish at times, but he's kind and good-hearted. He would never harm anyone without reason."
"I don't know who you are. But showing up to defend a suspicious man amid this chaos leaves me no choice but to suspect you. Make one move, and I'll cut you down. Step back."
As if to prove it was no bluff, the duchess gripped her sword firmly with both hands.
In the taut tension, Sharon met the duchess's gaze and spotted the bias coiled within.
She had no intention of listening to Sharon from the start.
No will to resolve the misunderstanding at all.
No words would persuade her in this state.
"No, wait—now that I think about it, you look suspicious too. An exile, right? A ploy to whisk away Ea disguised as a man or reincarnated? Someone pulling your strings? Or are you ensnared by something like enchantment without knowing?"
"That's not..."
"Witches of Aquarius are cunning. She slipped from my grasp three times with methods no one could anticipate. I've never once let my guard down. If this man is connected to Ea in any way, you could be deceived too."
Eloa's rapid-fire words carried no room for leisure.
For such a powerhouse, she seemed cornered, like the pursued, spilling out her thoughts.
It looked less like addressing Sharon and more like convincing herself.
"No... ending it like this isn't a bad idea either. Wouldn't that be cleaner?"
Eloa's straight-extended sword turned toward the fallen Siwoo.
She had no real intent to kill.
It was a bluff to gauge the man's reaction—perhaps feigning unconsciousness—and Sharon's, who had appeared suddenly.
She thought threatening the life of this scheming man might yield a clue to the truth.
"No!"
Sharon's reaction was, as expected, fierce.
Flames erupted from her feet, forming a wall that blocked the view.
Vines sprouting from the cement intercepted the blade aimed at Siwoo's neck.
Sharon dashed forward, yielding to the sudden gale to pull Siwoo away.
Her skillful handling of three magical lineages in an instant was nothing short of masterful.
But she'd chosen the wrong opponent.
"Kyaa!"
Sharon was caught by the nape in Eloa's hand mid-stride.
Her legs lifted off the ground before slamming into the concrete.
Before she could even grasp what happened, the duchess gripped her throat with cold eyes.
"I told you not to move."
Facing the duchess up close once more, Sharon was certain.
The shadow of madness and fanaticism.
Even those beautiful eyes held no light now.
She wasn't in her right mind.
Consumed by vengeance, she was spiraling out of control.
"See?"
The duchess twisted Sharon's head to face Siwoo.
A red line had appeared on his neck at some point.
The blade's tip was digging into his flesh.
"Just a bit more pressure, and this man dies. If you want him to live, tell me everything you know."