Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Hungry Ghost
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Estor glared at the exhibition hall with a twisted face. No, it could no longer be called an exhibition hall.
A massive black cube so dark that peering inside was impossible. The entire Alderan magic exhibition hall, famous as the city's landmark, was trapped within that enormous cube.
Just over ten minutes ago, Estor had been at the Haberth Magic Tower, but the moment he heard about the terrorist attack at the exhibition hall, he had rushed over with Iron Walled City.
Having just arrived in front of the exhibition hall, Estor hadn't yet received a full briefing on the situation, but he could roughly guess what had happened. The power emanating from the pitch-black cube was all too familiar.
"Mad bastards."
A short-statured middle-aged man standing near Estor muttered through trembling shoulders. Haberth Magic Tower Lord, Iron Walled City Guzel Haberth. He was struggling to maintain his composure.
Inside the cube-trapped exhibition hall was Guzel's cherished disciple. And that wasn't all—thousands of visitors had been caught up in it, and today, his disciple hadn't gone alone. She had gone with a disciple from the Derusia Magic Tower.
Leysi Yuzha. She wasn't a disciple of Heavenly Thunder. But in a certain sense, Guzel knew she was closer to Heavenly Thunder than any disciple.
The terrorist attack at today's exhibition hall was like a bolt from the blue, but Guzel had been the one to get drenched in the shit. Shaking with rage, Guzel thrust both hands forward.
Rumble rumble rumble! At Guzel's will, a massive surge of mana stirred. The ground beneath the exhibition hall heaved dramatically. Guzel tried to destroy the cube by flipping the earth itself from the ground up, but even with considerable force, the cube merely shuddered without developing the cracks he desired.
'It's suppressing the mana itself.'
Guzel's face twisted. As a magic tower lord, he knew what that cube was. Among the miracles performed by priests serving gods, it was one of the most troublesome and sturdy: a pseudo-sanctuary that designated space itself.
This particular sanctuary placed heavy emphasis on barring external intrusions. It might not be an issue for other magic tower lords, but it had terrible compatibility with Guzel's magic.
Guzel's moniker was Iron Walled City. He was confident he could perfectly defend against attacks from other magic tower lords or even Peerless Sovereigns within his fortified positions, but sieges were another matter. Destroying a pseudo-sanctuary constructed by miracle on space itself—not some ordinary defensive barrier—was a feat few among magic tower lords could accomplish.
"Urgh..."
Grimacing as he pressured the cube, Guzel finally let out a deep sigh and lowered his hands.
"How did it go?"
Estor, who had stepped back with a serious expression, asked cautiously.
"Embarrassing as it is, breaking it with my magic seems impossible."
"No way...!"
"It appears to be a sanctuary embodying inviolability through miracle... I don't know what they intend, but a priest capable of constructing such a sanctuary would number fewer than ten even within their own denomination."
Guzel ground his teeth and looked up. Two groups were approaching from different directions.
The first to arrive was a carriage pulled by beautiful white horses. A yellow rectangular crest—the symbol of the Earth Church.
"Oh, my god."
The woman who leaped from the carriage as soon as the door opened clutched her head. She was one of the priests affiliated with Alderan's temple, currently acting as the temple's representative in the archbishop's absence.
"Of all times, while the archbishop is away...!"
The priests who followed her down let out sighs. More priests and holy knights disembarked from the arriving carriages, but numbers alone wouldn't pierce the evil god's pseudo-sanctuary. It was that powerful a miracle.
"They must have pulled this stunt knowing the archbishop is away."
A voice echoed from the sky. From the window of a massive carriage still airborne, a stern-looking middle-aged man with brown skin poked his head out, glaring at the cube.
"I never imagined they'd dare do this in my city."
Only one man could call Alderan 'my city.' Alnair Maybeld, patriarch of the Maybeld Family, which had ruled Alderan for centuries. He removed his spectacles perched on his nose and looked down.
"So, what's the situation? How many are trapped inside that thing?"
"Many barely escaped, but according to their statements, most of them were not in the magic hall but elsewhere."
The sweating captain of the city guard answered, and Alnair clicked his tongue.
"So the alchemy hall wasn't fully caught up. What about escapees from the magic hall?"
"A man in a large robe and a mask with a torn mouth suddenly appeared on the ceiling."
"As expected, the work of one of the evil god's saints."
At the level of a family head like the Pride Family's patriarch, one learned various pieces of information unknown to the public. He might not know the identities of all the saints serving the evil god, but he had grasped some of their features.
"Do you know him?"
Estor asked in surprise. He too was the heir of the Orsia Family, but he had yet to receive heir training beyond the sword. Alnair nodded slowly in response.
"The one called Hungry Ghost. When acting publicly as a cultist, he always wears a mask with a torn mouth. About ten years ago, wasn't there an incident where half the expedition dispatched to an island in the Central Sea died?"
The Central Sea, dividing the Western and Eastern Continents, held many islands. Among them were still unconquered ones, and expeditions were periodically sent from each continent to claim them.
In the vast Central Sea and its islands, phenomena beyond human common sense occurred daily. Even high-ranked adventurers from the guild had to risk their lives to explore them.
Half the expedition dead? Not uncommon in Central Sea ventures. But in the incident Alnair mentioned from ten years ago, what killed half the explorers wasn't some irrational phenomenon of the sea or an unidentified monster.
"He used a bizarre authority to turn humans into trees and harvest their souls. It resembles the ominous magic of Ludelra Magic Tower in dealing with souls, but unlike them, Hungry Ghost devoured the souls directly."
"Such a horror...!"
"Yes, a horrific bastard. And that horrific bastard committed terrorism in my city, at the exhibition I sponsored."
The Maybeld carriage remained floating in the air, and Alnair's eyes grew icy cold.
"Lord Guzel. Even with your magic, destroying that pseudo-sanctuary is impossible?"
"...I'll try, but it won't be easy."
"Priests of the Earth God. What about you? I know the archbishop is absent, but with dozens of priests, surely the Earth God's miracles can bend the evil god's miracle?"
"We'll pray fervently, but... designating a sanctuary is impossible with our miracles."
"Even for an evil god's saint, designating a pseudo-sanctuary of that scale must have cost a great price."
"So there's no way, then."
Alnair openly clicked his tongue and turned his head into the carriage.
"What about you?"
He didn't know who sat opposite, but after a brief silence, a reply came.
"I can't promise success, but I'll give it a try. With Iron Walled City's magic and the Earth priests' miracles combined, surely we can at least make a dent."
"Hm. Then I leave it to you. I don't want a blemish on my city."
Alnair replied in a much softer tone.
The door of the hovering carriage burst open, and a muscular woman with red hair and a greatsword on her back dropped down. Estor's eyes widened at the sight.
"No way... Tragic Turmoil?"
Boom. The ground shook with a heavy thud. One of the Peerless Sovereigns' transcendents, Tragic Turmoil Eleia Yudel.
Famous for slaying and replacing one of the Seven Evils while opposing the Demonic Cult. Her whereabouts had been unknown in recent years, with rumors she had been killed by the Demonic Cult.
'I wasn't introduced to her yesterday...?'
Greatly flustered, Estor looked up at the Maybeld carriage. Alnair shrugged with a smirk at the accusatory gaze.
"She's a guest of the Maybelds, but even as patriarch, she's not someone I can easily handle. I told her you visited yesterday, but she didn't want to meet."
"I have moods too."
Eleia, slowly raising her head, glanced at Estor.
"Yesterday just wasn't a day I felt like meeting anyone. So don't take it personally, Sword Emperor's grandson."
"I'm not offended."
Estor bowed his head politely.
"I've heard your renowned name from the patriarch many times. It's an honor to meet you."
"Hmph, what good things could that old Sword Emperor have said about me? Last time I saw him, he told me if I was going to use the sword like that, why bother carrying one."
Eleia muttered, narrowing her green eyes. As a possessor, she focused on external martial arts training and true qi arts rather than the sword, which she had chosen only to boost lethality in her unskilled days. Though she had trained sincerely as her tier rose, it hadn't impressed the Sword Emperor.
"So, Sword Emperor's grandson. Don't watch my sword too closely. You won't learn anything."
"How could I..."
"Spare the humility. Is one of your comrades inside there too?"
"Yes. Cloud Dragon and Dark Flame are in there."
"We need to save them before that bastard Hungry Ghost kills them?"
"Besides Cloud Dragon and Dark Flame, thousands are trapped inside."
When Estor replied gravely, Eleia chuckled lowly and nodded.
"Good kid."
She drew the greatsword from her back. As a greatsword, it was naturally large—but too big to call a sword. Immensely large, thick, heavy, and crude. It was a lump of iron. That was Eleia's sword.
Despite its enormous size and weight, Eleia gripped the greatsword one-handed like a tree branch. Rumble! Crimson true qi soon enveloped it. And it wasn't just visible to the 'eye.' Eleia's intent merged with the true qi, manifesting the image of a dragon from legend behind her back.
"Let's give it a smack first."
With a quiet mutter, Eleia gripped the greatsword two-handed. Boom! The ground cratered under her stomping foot, and she swung. Simultaneously, the flickering dragon behind her opened its maw wide.
"Insane."
Guzel grimaced and clapped his palms together. A sturdy earth wall immediately rose before the crowd standing at a distance. Sensing the extraordinary power, the Earth priests hastily invoked divine power to erect barriers.
Eleia's strike suited the word bombardment more than slash. With the sword beam, a massive force erupted from the dragon's mouth like a cannon shell.
KABOOM!
Crimson waves crashed against the cube, shaking it.
*
Rumble...
The sudden vibration forced me to halt my steps. I looked up at the pitch-black sky with a tense face and scanned the surroundings. But aside from the vibration, nothing had changed.
"They're probably working to rescue us from outside."
Ha-ryeong, pressed close beside me, whispered.
"...It must be Iron Walled City Lord Guzel."
Leysi, following a bit behind, mumbled in reply. She didn't want to mumble, but she had no choice.
Her cheeks were bright red and swollen.
She knew it was unavoidable.
They said it was to wake her from the forced dream. So they had slapped her cheeks hard.
Honestly... it was a happy, joyful dream she didn't want to wake from. But if she hadn't awakened, she would've died without knowing. In that sense, Yuri, who forcibly woke her, was her lifesaver.
'But... was slapping her cheeks the only way...?'
Rubbing her still sore cheeks with both hands, she couldn't help but think that, but Leysi wasn't so lacking in manners as to demand compensation from her rescuer after nearly drowning.
[I wanted to slap her more.]
[Me too, but any more and she'd suspect us.]
Ha-ryeong and Yuri secretly exchanged telepathic messages. There was no need to slap at all. Just burning the vines with Heavenly Principle Annihilating Evil Art's inner energy would've sufficed.
The idea to slap came from Ha-ryeong.
Yuri had agreed just because he wanted to slap Leysi's cheeks.
"First... first, let's find Fabian."
Originally, Leysi had been with Fabian, but the moment the darkness moved, she had abandoned him and rushed to Yuri.
Leysi still suspected Yuri might be Padrip Immunity—or possibly Cat Panties. Padrip Immunity especially was under suspicion as an apostle of the evil god.
A cultist attack. This incident might secretly involve Padrip Immunity.
Thinking that, she had approached to secure clear evidence...
'But... he's not...?'
They had both been swept into the darkness and trapped in this space.
Was he Cat Panties instead of Padrip Immunity?
Or Padrip Immunity but not an evil god's apostle?
'No, maybe this whole thing is an act to deceive me?'
Her head swirled with suspicions.
"Do we need to wake the other mages?"
"Waking them won't help much. They'd just be cumbersome baggage slowing our movement."
Leysi mumbled in reply.
"I'm fine, but to overcome this space's suppression and cast magic, you'd need at least 6th tier. But 6th tier mages aren't common... Hm, if the attack happened after 3 AM, the invited high-tier mages should've been in the hall."
"They timed it for that gap. Are they idiots?"
Leysi's eyebrow twitched at Yuri's retort. She swallowed a surge of anger and nodded slowly.
"I said something obvious. You're right, Yuri. That masked man judged this the perfect moment to strike."
"Probably a cultist. Anyone come to mind?"
"Why ask me? I've never done anything to pick a fight with cultists."
Leysi glared at Yuri with real emotion.
"That cultist. Didn't he recognize you? This mad stunt might not be solely because of grudge against you, but you must have some stake in it?"
"Probably."
The quick admission surprised Leysi, widening her eyes. Ignoring her stare, Yuri muttered flatly.
"That's why he's on the move now."
That masked guy was at least bishop-level strong, plainly. Even facing him now, Yuri would worry about his own neck before subduing him.
Knowing that, he couldn't just sit. Trapped here, hiding was pointless anyway, so he had to grasp the situation while the guy was out of sight.
Rumble...
The vibration rang out again. Leysi bit her lip and scanned anxiously.
'To pull off such a bold terror in the heart of a great city like Alderan. Cultists truly aren't right in the head.'
They seemed to be pounding hard from outside to rescue them, but nothing changed beyond the vibrations.
"Probably... one of the ones the evil god church calls saints."
Leysi spoke after glancing at Yuri's face.
"First off, this space isn't made purely of magic."
Even with her mastery of various magics, Leysi struggled to comprehend this space. Holding mana so heavily meant new laws imprinted on the space itself.
Dominating a space this size meant the opponent's tier rivaled a magic tower lord...
'And simultaneously handling a powerful defensive barrier that bars external intrusion?'
Such magic was possible, but the opponent wasn't a pure mage. A cultist. This space likely incorporated miracles wielded through divine power. Given the divine power and miracles at play, it had to be one of Chaos Church's 'saints.'
"My eyes aren't infallible, but in my judgment, those vine tendrils that ensnared us weren't magic either. Better to see them as divine authorities granted to high priests through faith."
"What's a divine authority?"
"It's the ability corresponding to high-tier warriors' Intent Deification or archmages' Ideal Defying Heaven."
Her voice gained strength, as if pleased to show off her knowledge.
"All transcend human limits, but they're not the same. Divine authority is power bestowed by a true god, after all. Well, I won't say which is superior... but wouldn't self-forged Intent Deification or Ideal Defying Heaven outshine bestowed power?"
"Can you use Ideal Defying Heaven, Leysi?"
"How could I use Ideal Defying Heaven, which you barely touch at 7th tier?"
"I can't use Intent Deification either."
Yuri said, slowly scanning the surroundings.
"We're truly fucked."
"Ugh..."
Leysi's face crumpled.
Knowing the space and vines stemmed from divine authority changed nothing. She still didn't know what it was for.
Why bind the exhibition hall's hostages with vines and make them dream? With such power, massacre would be easy. Why erect a barrier, spare killing the hostages outright, and make them dream instead? What did this hostage drama aim to gain? Or was the goal even a hostage drama?
"...Above."
Yuri spoke up. He didn't advance further, just glared upward.
The black ceiling rippled, its color gradually shifting. Within the black, shadows deepened in spots. It looked like a long, torn scar or crevice.
'Crevice?'
Recognizing the word sent chills down his spine.
"Is artificially creating a crevice possible?"
"Y-Yes...?"
Leysi stammered at the abrupt question.
"I-I'm not sure. Crevices are where evil god divine power pools intensely... Oh god."
Leysi understood Yuri's point.
Crevices were where evil god divine power pooled intensely.
Earlier, the cultist had poured immense divine power to summon a finger of something not of this world. Everyone's last sight was that finger's nail raking the air.
If that finger was the evil god's, and divine power inscribed through it? Then an artificial crevice wasn't absolutely impossible.
"Is that mad saint sacrificing the captured hostages to the evil god to artificially create a crevice?"
"No."
A raspy voice shook the space.
"No need for sacrifices in something like this."
The man in the torn-mouth mask walked out through the wall.