Chapter 819: Walking Between the Boundary of Illusion and Reality
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 819: Walking Between the Boundary of Illusion and Reality
Unless a relationship is equal, a transaction is rarely simple. How can a fair deal be struck when one side holds a blade to the other’s throat?
It is a simple truth, yet one that humans often overlook when blinded by greed.
The Rengadis merchant, a man who took great pride in his plump cheeks, had realized this truth before he even turned twenty. Now, past fifty, he had forgotten it.
He had mortgaged his soul in exchange for eternal life, youth, and a healthy body. But that one-sided transaction had finally cracked.
Crack.
Soot billowed as fissures spiderwebbed across his body. His skin split like parched stone, and black smoke rose from the gaps.
“How foul.”
Dunbakel pinched her nose shut. For a beastman with a dramatically heightened sense of smell, the odor was unbearable.
One of Rem's eyebrows twitched. An ominous energy, potent enough to trigger his Sixth Sense, oozed from the merchant's body.
Rem didn't just stand there watching. He pulled a small stone from his pocket and threw it. He drew his shoulder back and thrust forward with such speed that his arm left an afterimage, acting as a human sling.
Naturally, it lacked the mechanical power of a stone flung from a whirring sling, but for a target hit at point-blank range, the impact was devastating. It was a projectile launched with the full physical strength of a knight.
Boom!
In the time it took Rem to move, the soot had already layered itself three times over. The roar was the sound of the stone exploding against a barrier. There was an impact, but it failed to penetrate.
“Look at this bastard.”
The corners of Rem's mouth curled upward. His competitive spirit flared, quickly turning into genuine interest as his hand reached for his Descent Weapon—his axe.
Even in the face of this bizarre, unprecedented phenomenon, Encrid's mind did not waver. If his ship were the type to be shaken by a wave of this size, it would have shattered long ago.
Storms were inevitable; one simply had to weather them to move forward. That was how he had always lived. He didn't need to steel himself; that was simply the kind of person Encrid was. He looked upon the unfolding horror with perfect calm.
“Shouldn't you do something about this?”
Krais, who had already backed away five paces, spoke up. Nurat stood on guard, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.
Meanwhile, Esther, who had been murmuring "human, magic" beside them, reached out her hand. In this place, she was the only one who truly understood what was happening.
A Forbidden Word Spell.
The merchant's body swelled and split, revealing pale, sickly skin underneath. The black soot acted as the creature's flesh and blood, coalescing around its body like armor. As his skin burst and tore, it began to transform into a black carapace.
Is it a threat?
No, Esther answered her own internal question, bringing her hands together in front of her chest to weave a series of gestures.
“In the name of Phil de Frodo, I command. It is the law that shadows form before the light, and it is the law that what is hidden shall be revealed. Before this truth, you cannot hide your form.”
It was a long incantation, meaning she had poured a corresponding amount of effort into the casting.
Encrid, sensing something approaching through pure intuition, raised Duskforge to his front. Although the creature billowing soot was confusing his senses, it was only natural to raise his blade if there was any doubt. He did not let his guard down for a second.
As Esther chanted, something shimmering appeared before the Blade of Dawn. It was an amorphous, shapeless mass. It resembled an evil spirit, but it was far more foul.
It was a predator aiming for an opening while the merchant's body convulsed. To be precise, it was lunging straight for Encrid.
Even as Esther chanted, her earlier reflections continued to swirl in her mind.
Can one discuss life without knowing humans?
Can one discuss magic, which seeks truth, without knowing life?
Can one become a star simply by staying locked in a forest alone, doing nothing but research?
Through Encrid, Esther had rid herself of the curse that bound her body. Through the enlightenment gained in that process, she had rebuilt the very concept of magic within herself, as if returning to her childhood.
The man she saw—the human named Encrid—did not live a single day, a single moment, or even a single breath in vain. He lived by stacking stones, one by one. Esther had witnessed this, and she had naturally begun to emulate his attitude.
The stones she had stacked in this manner now formed a tower that reached the heavens. The truths she had known in the past and the truths she realized now locked together, throwing open the gates to the world of mana.
In an instant, the boundary between her inner world and reality collapsed. One could no longer distinguish between illusion and reality.
Those who first step into the world of magic are called 'The Glimpsers.' When a Glimpser speaks of what they have seen, they become a 'Speaker.' Subsequently, if they manifest and possess a world of their own, they become an 'Owner.'
Commonly, a true mage begins at this stage. This was the reason the alias Immoderantia was born. Beyond this stage lies Tacitus—Silence.
Esther knew the hierarchy of mages. But wasn't being trapped within that system exactly what created one's limits? If one moves forward only after drawing a line, their feet will stop the moment they cross it.
Esther had never desired such a thing. Therefore, she was now forging a new path.
Even among those who wielded spells, there was a legendary term—a word that signified the moment the boundary between illusion and reality collapsed.
Fantasia.
It was the moment a mage leaped past established stages. Compared to a knight, a sensation akin to omnipotence surged through her. It wasn't just the feeling that she could accomplish anything; it was the sensation of floating within a world of pure illusion.
At that moment, the true form of the demon appeared to her. It was an entity that existed only in the space between reality and illusion.
Split Intent.
That amorphous mass was the work of the one called the Companion of Heat. Intuition derived from her experience and knowledge swirled in her head, yielding the answer.
A Parasitic Horse.
What was the nature of the Companion of Heat? Parasitizing the bodies of others was the very essence of that demon. It had hidden inside the body of the man with the greatsword, then emerged and pretended to vanish, only to try and burrow into Encrid.
Even if it couldn't take over his body...
It would have at least branded him.
If one is branded by a demon, they become prey for evil spirits, monsters, and demonic beasts day and night. Encrid wouldn't fall to something of that level, but there was no reason for him to endure such a nuisance.
Esther, intoxicated by the sense of illusion, raised her left hand and projected her mana into the world where boundaries had collapsed. She ignored Tacitus, the stage of Silence. That was mere vanity. Why cast magic with silent casting, without a starting word? There was no need to struggle just to appear as if one had transcended providence. That was only done for the sake of appearances.
“Vinctus, Compes, Nexum.”
Silence was unnecessary, but abbreviation was possible. This was not vanity, but efficiency.
The chains, nets, and shackles originating from the world of illusion became a contract that bound the entity's existence. The magic circle drawn on this ground was something she had personally engraved, line by line. She had meticulously adjusted it to react to her own mana.
Therefore, on this land, her contract took precedence over all else.
Revealed by the first magic, bound by the second.
Kieeeee!
The amorphous object let out a bizarre shriek. It was a final struggle—an attempt to rupture the eardrums and bring down the opponent. Since humans relied on their five senses, it was a logical attempt.
Except, it didn't work here.
“Oppilatio. Block and eliminate.”
Though half-intoxicated by the illusion, there was no hesitation. One who wields spells constructs their own world, and in that world, they are a god. She had simply drawn out a portion of that world and manifested it.
Screech.
The intent of the Parasitic Horse, the Companion of Heat, vanished. A portion of it seemed to have already fled, but there was no need to pursue it.
This all occurred in the brief moment Rem drew his axe, Dunbakel clenched her fists, and Encrid raised Duskforge.
In that time, the chubby merchant had vanished. In his place, a creature clad in a black exoskeleton—covering everything except its face and hands—stared at them with a stiff, mechanical neck.
Black steam rose from its body. It was the residual heat generated immediately after its physical form and very existence had transformed.
Esther recognized the spell. It was a type of Forbidden Word Spell.
'Swordsman of the Black Soul.'
In a way, it was similar to a Death Warrior or a Death Knight, but its structure and method of manifestation were completely different.
It consumes the soul as payment, and in exchange, elevates the owner of that mortgaged soul to possess knight-level martial power.
It was a spell that none but a demon could hope to imitate. However, its duration was, at most, twenty seconds. Even so, if dropped among ordinary soldiers, it would be a disaster—as devastating as opening a portal in the sky to drop a massive boulder. And the manifestation itself was far easier than summoning a boulder.
A Forbidden Word Spell possible only for a demon.
That was how Esther saw it. Though she did not know it, the spell was a joint creation of the demon known as the Father of the Dead and the Devotee of Gold. The Devotee of Gold valued prices and transactions, while the Father of the Dead was obsessed with wraiths.
Esther's eyes shone like blue stars.
Even though Encrid felt the intangible presence vanish, he was prepared to swing his sword immediately. He knew by instinct that the murderous intent of the mass before him was not directed at him. In the creature's hand, a carapace blade with a texture similar to its shell began to form.
Creak, crack.
The blade grew with a grinding sound. While there were many in the Border Guard who could subdue that creature, there were just as many who would die trying to stop it. Encrid judged it was simple enough to cut it down before it became a problem.
Dunbakel, whose only intention was to get rid of the foul stench, was about to charge. Rem went through a similar thought process, but he was more than willing to use even more violent means.
“Crush all things wicked and evil.”
He went so far as to summon one of the divine generals of the West. It was a divine power that his Descent Weapon, the axe, craved, and one that influenced his sorcery. At the same time, he gripped a stone in his left hand, intending to restrict the movements of the massive black mass.
In an instant, the three of them were ready for battle. Pel and Ropode, who had finished off the man with the greatsword, were no different. They prepared themselves in case the demonic minion rushed toward them.
In that gap, Esther's voice rang out.
“Restraint, confinement, restriction, maintenance, preservation.”
Esther's eyes burned. Boiling mana seemed to spill from her pupils. A translucent blue wall enveloped the soot-spewing creature, pressing down and trapping it within. It happened in an instant, occurring simultaneously with Esther's murmur.
Boom!
Not to be outdone, the creature swung its blade. The wall held. Cracks formed and fragments chipped off, but it did not break.
Black veins bulged over the creature's pale hands. It tried to thrust its sword once more, but the space was too narrow. Even if it could turn its body, there wasn't enough room to swing.
Whether it was a Forbidden Word Spell or anything else, once a physical entity manifested, it required space to exert its power. Just as humans are affected by their five senses, the moment it possessed a physical form, it could not escape the laws of space.
Esther accomplished all of this through sensation, not calculation. Though mages were said to calculate repeatedly, in essence, they were people who could not even begin to glimpse the truth without their unique senses.
For twenty seconds, the wall held. The creature went wild inside, ramming the wall with its head, stabbing with its blade, and even transforming its elbow into a spike to slash at the barrier.
All of it was futile. The wall rippled, dented, and cracked, but it remained standing.
As time passed, the creature vanished, leaving behind only black smoke and ash. The chubby merchant had become less than a handful of black powder.
“Well, uh, I didn't expect this either. So just go on.”
Rem withdrew the divine power he had summoned. Encrid sheathed his sword and looked at Esther. She did not blink, her dilated pupils staring as if looking into the far distance. The pitch-black circles in the center of her blue eyes grew larger, looking as if one might be sucked into them.
“Esther.”
Encrid called her name. Esther's pupils gradually shrank. Having been immersed in the world of illusion, she had finally returned to reality.
The moment she shook off the trance, she felt dizzy. It was the exhaustion caused by the excessive use of mana. The world spun, and as her body collapsed, someone caught her. There was no need to look to see who it was.
“One of them seemed to be someone you know.”
The words spoken by the man in the black hat had been unusual. Encrid had noted what the visitors said, and now he spoke the words he had prepared to ask once the threat was cleared.
“A few mages incited by him might come looking for us,” Esther replied calmly.
“I see.”
Contrary to her intentions, Esther felt her mouth move on its own. She had never relied on anyone in her life, but now, it was so instinctive she couldn't even comprehend why she was saying it.
“I'll be behind your back, won't I?”
It was practically a request for protection.
“Of course.”
Encrid's answer was like his sword: straight, unwavering, and without a hint of hesitation. At those words, a blush might have risen on Esther's pale face, but...
“Hey, who's supposed to be protecting whom?” Rem chimed in at just the right moment.
Esther briefly wondered how a bastard like Rem had managed to get married and have a child, but she shook the thought away.
“I don't have the strength to walk,” she said instead.
Encrid lifted her up. Compared to the massive magic she had displayed just moments ago, her body was incredibly light.
And this news also reached the ears of the elf resting in the Spring of Life, deep within the Elven City.