Chapter 279
Chapter 279
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: One Empire, Three Legends (38)
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Outside the imperial palace. Giant's Bridge.
"...Where did it go, and why are these guys acting like this?"
...Or so it used to be.
The moment Professor stepped out of the imperial palace, he ran into a major obstacle.
The giants who had been quietly forming a bridge with their hands were now crawling up from the deep ravine.
Crossing that moat-like chasm was trouble enough on its own, but the real problem lay beyond it.
Rumble rumble... Thud, crunch crunch, drrrr-!
Boom!
The massive statues had drawn the weapons strapped to their backs and were now destroying the capital,
Creeeeak-!
"My oath, my sword—where... where has it gone!"
"It shall not break; believe without doubt that its end reaches unwavering loyalty!"
"Clear the path! We must reach His Majesty—even if we must cut down all who stand in our way!"
"I shall not perish like this! With this bladeless sword, I refuse to vanish into rust and dust!!!"
The giants, along with every knight locked in a desperate deathmatch against them and everything around.
The cause of all this chaos was clear. The emperor's death. Though it had broken one link in the curse's chain of catalyst—caster—target, it had instead tipped the delicate balance of power entirely to one side.
The result.
Slash-!
"To His Majesty's side! Even if that place lies beyond the veil of life! As a knight, I shall follow to the end!"
They had instinctively sensed the emperor's death, fueling their loyalty to pursue him. Their personal desire to die on the battlefield without ever letting go of their swords. Twisted completely by the curse, they had become knights who craved battle against anyone, desperate to die sword in hand.
Whoooosh-
Boom!
The ancient golems, bound by some unknown sorcery, now dripped purple glows from their crystal eyes, transformed into puppets obeying what remained of the emperor's power—the power the witch had absorbed.
Shields the size of noble mansions swept through the city, blocked by knights of absurd strength surging forward like an endless iron wave. For anyone trying to break through to reach the witch, it was a nightmarish scene.
This wouldn't do. Even if the capital was now a hell where ordinary folk died without a whimper, this was beyond excessive. Jumping into the vortex of destruction at its center was suicide—no metaphor; they'd end up as minced meat.
"...Hey, Hide. Should I sneak back and flip that coin stuck in front of the emperor? Just ask him to hold off once."
[...Doesn't seem likely?]
"Absolutely not. Even at full strength, we couldn't punch through that cleanly, and our fuel tank's bone dry right now."
Asking the dead emperor out of dramatic flair had been a mistake. Even the badass emperor was just a corpse now—who cared about fate.
Judging by the mess, the story was clear: pick the next emperor, and the one who slurped up the power scattered by the old one's death would push forward strong. No way I had to bulldoze through all that. Sure, GG was a trash game, but it wouldn't force a player worn down by back-to-back battles into an even tougher solo fight without help...
"...Suya! Professooor!!!"
"Damn it, Professor, you bastard!"
"Grrrrr! Found you! Two-legged disaster!"
...Shit.
Just as he was about to head back to the dead emperor, three familiar figures appeared across the ravine.
Ottman, Aldrich, Notum.
The magic-curse-sorcery trio who had gone first to the Flower Consort's palace.
A bit awkwardly welcome. Allies arriving right when the path ahead was pitch black.
With curses and auras raging everywhere, delicate spells like messages scattered uselessly, so they cupped hands to mouths and shouted.
"Thanks for coming all this way! Through that madness!!!"
"We got chased out toooo! The palace looked off, so we tried crossing! But the bridge collapsed, knights went even crazier, and we just caught our breath!!! How'd you cross over thereee!"
"Before it collapsed!!! And the palace side's done, no need to come! Just bridge some water over hereee!"
Their faces paled at "palace side's done." While Professor marveled that even a troll's face could drain of color in this crisis, Ottman's water bridge stretched across the ravine to him. Not sturdy for normal folk, but fine for water mages.
Splash!
"Whew! Anyway, great to meet again like this. I was at a loss alone—ow!"
"Great? Great my ass, you bastard? Teaming up with that demon colt like a feral mule!"
"I begged you to go mad, fine, but why kill the emperor! Why! What now!"
"Ow, argh! W-wait! Hold on!"
Thwack! Thud! Smack! Slap!
Rushing to his glad reunion, Professor was met with a barrage of fists from mages haunted all day by chasing knights.
Since leaving the Flower Consort's quarters, they'd run till their old bones reeked, finally shaking the knights—thanks to the ancient golems scattering them like leaves. But caught between knight-golem clashes, unable to advance or retreat, then spotting the prime suspect of their woes—Professor, culprit in most of their disasters—emerging from the ruined palace with what looked like the emperor's relic, certainty ignited their pent-up grudges.
"I suspected you from over there! What now! What're you gonna do! The whole capital's gone berserk because the emperor's dead!"
"Killing the emperor who barely kept the empire from the witch's grasp, then pocketing his treasures! The capital's uncontrollable now! No, that scepter in your hand—they'll flip and charge us!"
"Ow! I didn't kill him! I didn't, I swear!"
"...You didn't?"
"Yeah! Think I'm some psycho who kills everyone I meet!"
"Then... the emperor's still alive?"
"Uh... no?"
"Dead before you got there?"
"Not exactly..."
"Then, can you explain simply how he died?"
"Hm... Met me, eyes snapped open... giggled to himself and just died."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Ugh."
.
.
.
.
Thud! Thwack! Scuffle! Smack!
"You did kill him!"
"Regicide! My disciple's a regicide!"
"Two-legged calamity! Possible root of all evil! Saint of the Apocalypse!"
"Ow! Ouch! That hurts, stop! My condition right now—gah! Notum! Hit me and it's fatal!"
In the end, on the cliff before the palace—in the void born of golem-knight clashes, palace defenders versus invaders—Professor had to recount his audience with the emperor at top speed.
The witch's curse-laced wails spread across the capital by the minute, but with no clear path through the brute-force brawl for the four gathered here, they had to wait for one side to break.
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"...You said the emperor was quite old."
"I heard that too. Though the imperial emperors are famous for longevity. Senility's plausible."
"Open a new dynasty. Giving that authority—practically total power—to this guy..."
"If it's Professor... Hm! Er..."
"Why me! I'm capable, smart, well-connected! Top talent anywhere!"
"Talent (calamity), you mean, you bastard. How every place you go blows up, and the scale just keeps growing. I'm terrified what explodes next after the empire—collapsing from dread. Maybe one of the Five Great Gods dies?"
"Grrr. All noisy. Death aura faint."
"Hm. This way. Left side's thick with dank mana."
Amid horrific screams and destruction's din, about two hours passed.
As the safe zone behind the golems pushed back, the group waited in a protruding cliff nook for calm, emerging cautiously when the noise ebbed.
Double soundproofing spells, Aldrich's perception block boosted by night. Plus Notum's natural concealment—they didn't need to sneak so much.
Click!
"...Who... goes... there..."
'Mmmph! Mmph-! Mmph!'
'Mm, mm! Mmmph!'
The problem: a small fortress-sized golem pack felled in battle, the ancient magic immune to auras sliced apart by mad knights.
Knights died plenty too. Tripping hazards like severed thighs or half-crushed knights fused to plate mail.
But survivors remained from the melee—true elites among elites, patrolling the wrecked streets.
'Mmph, mmphmmph!'
'Hoo... mmph!'
"Crackle, zzzt! Zz-"
Slice!
"...Rat, huh. ...Hm, sorry, Juliard. I was too jumpy. Kinda cold. Heater ready yet? Hm... Dizzy. Revelry went too far..."
Notum tossed a sorcery-lured rat; the knight relaxed into solitary delusions.
Blood-soaked and mad, but thirty minutes ago, that knight had unleashed sky-blue aura his height, cleaving a golem's greatsword—a true master knight of immense power.
With such wounded knights lurking everywhere, approaching the witch meant slow going.
"Aaaaaah— Aaaaaah!"
Her scream pierced the streets, urging their lagging steps.
"...Not much time left."
"Choice time. Preserve strength and give the enemy time, or burn all reserves to reach the witch fastest. Knowing she's strong from the start, we had to minimize drain for the inevitable clash."
"Pray we arrive before she finishes other preparations."
Aldrich muttered at the flower-tree wall they'd reached.
The scream's epicenter, the witch's lair.
Vast curse-flowers bloomed at her first cry, stems weaving together; her spot now a towering purple flower mass.
Sky-scraping endlessly.
A dense curse cluster tempting one to gouge out their own eyes just looking.
"...Mother."
Inside awaited his long nightmare.
Fingering his soul jar, Aldrich spoke to Ottman holding the concealment.
"Then, as planned."
"...Got it. Notum and I wait outside, snipe the curse nexus when revealed?"
Aldrich nodded.
Tower of curse-flowers.
Black mages, ever persecuted, fortified their bases like fortresses.
Dragon lairs. Their black magic stronger, foes weakened.
Like his homeland's stone chamber turning flesh-horror to evade holy watch, now curse-flowers built a space for the witch.
'Had the emperor lived. Had the witch's long-prepared curse completed... the whole capital might've become part of that horror tower...'
The emperor's resolve averted the worst, but its current scale rivaled stacked magetowers, circumference palace-sized.
Not a tower—a curse-flower pillar piercing heaven.
Her strength matched its domain's size, the humans sacrificed.
So, shake it from outside and in, destabilize structurally rather than shatter outright.
'Complex curse, but bound by basics. Domain of woven curses hides key curse-flowers as core. Target those...'
Simple split: Curse expert Aldrich and melee-capable Professor handle witch (mage weakness). Rest on external duty.
Inside: He and Professor assault unstable witch post-failed grand curse backlash. Outside: Exploit her distraction to hunt tower's core curse-flowers, dismantle domain, rejoin.
Best they could muster now.
...Dodged and awaited this moment so long. Yet this was their peak.
"..."
"Aldrich."
"..."
"Aldrich!"
"Hm?! Oh, sorry. Lost in thought."
"Asking if you're ready. Need time?"
"No. More time just stabilizes her curse and domain. You sure you're good like that? Looked rough handling one battered guard on arrival."
"...Kinda. But I've got a way; no plan hitches. Let's go."
Crunch. Crackle, spliiiit!
Professor's blackened left fingertips slashed the flower-tree wall; as it sealed itself, Notum's vines wove in, forming a small door.
"Grk. Closed space, open space. Sorcery, symbolic—vast difference. Don't know curses, but exit while this door holds. Best."
Notum's root door. Grimacing, forehead and arms blue with sigils—straining hard to maintain.
Her usual gruff face hid it well, but up close, a fidgety, anxious girl's unease peeked through the fierce troll.
Wait, youngest in our group was Notum, not Lucilla?
"...Thanks, Notum. You joined via the church—no reason for this danger."
"Grrr. Restore old order. My duty too. Ancestor ghosts say so."
"Yeah, yeah. We'll return alive. Tsundere troll."
"Professor, talky. Go fast, out fast."
Brat. Stuck-up.
Preparations done; after twists, final setups led here.
Borderlands. Storm Hill. Haunumaan, capital.
Through it all, to the empire's heart, the witch.
Professor's eyes caught the final barrier to that last encounter.
Revealed between split curse-flower walls.
Purple mist churning visibility to zero inside.
A horrific battlefield blooming curse-flowers, utterly unlike the capital first seen.
Sea of blood and corpses, lush curse-flower garden.
"Whole other space."
"Not just curse power. The emperor I saw reshaped the palace with a gesture. Probably that."
"Empire's power... Yes. Before achieving her wish, the witch reshaped surroundings to her taste..."
...Crack!
Eyes closed, feeling that power, Aldrich crushed the soul jar in his palm.
Neria's soul, girl-form meek on his arm, not her usual feral.
"Yes, I feel it. No need for this vessel now. It's there. Your body, stolen by the witch, mother. Let's go, Neria. It's... over. Finally, at the end. Time to fulfill our contract after so long."
"...Huh? Emperor said the one inside's the First Princess..."
"No. She's there. Contract's subject. Made me black mage, bound me and Nel via curse medium. Your flesh is inside..."
Overwhelmed by mood, Aldrich stepped into the witch's space first.
"Screw it."
Professor followed, vanishing into the mist after him.
"...Gone."
Only Notum and Ottman left, the pair traceless.
"...Our turn. Not as much as Professor and Aldrich, but we'll sweat too."
"Grrr."
Before stepping back, Ottman eyed their mirage-vanished spot, summoning all spared mana and groundwater, forming seals.
Thin water streams and holy roots dozens-thick climbed the massive curse-flower hill, netting it.
Ottman wasn't a black mage or curse expert—couldn't guess inside happenings.
But as a mage of flow insight, one hunch was certain.
"...The end."
Tail end of a grand current. Even winding rivers end; all has beginning, end.
Empire, vast nation. Felt its historical power current racing to conclusion.
Who stood at that end—decided inside, probably.
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