Chapter 349: Libra (5)
Chapter 349: Libra (5)
Punishment.
It’s a somewhat arrogant name, but it’s a spell I take pride in, knowing it possesses the power to back it up.
I designed it with a traditional mage’s role in mind—not a battle mage who fights on the front lines as I usually do, but one who stays in the rear, taking the time to line up a devastating one-shot strike.
I threw mana efficiency and practicality out the window, creating an extreme spell that pours everything into raw firepower.
The structure is simple.
I take a high-tier Light attribute spell, empowered by the Sun God's Favor trait, and use elemental combination to forcibly fuse it with a high-tier Fire attribute spell, known for its sheer destructive force, before dropping it on the target. The fact that the entire process is amplified through resonance and charging is just a bonus.
…Yes, the structure is simple, but executing it is a different story. Not only did it instantly drain enough mana to cast five ordinary high-tier spells, but I wouldn't have even been able to attempt it if I hadn't used Spirit Language to force the magic circles together.
However, since I created this after reaching the rank of High Magician—and considering I already projected far more power than others of my level—the results were guaranteed.
Rumble—
A massive magic circle etched itself into the air along with my chant. From within its center, a white light saber slowly began to reveal itself.
Calling it a "sword" was an understatement; it was a colossal blade the size of a building. Blue flames licked the air like flickering tongues around the brilliantly glowing blade.
It looked as if a dragon were coiling around a massive sword.
The sheer pressure it exerted while only halfway out was no joke. Perhaps it was because of the staggering amount of mana I had poured into it.
Ugly Prosperity, who had laughed off intermediate-level magic even in its irregular spirit possession state, seemed to realize this was dangerous. It shut its ever-rattling mouth and began to focus entirely on defense.
[You prickly little thing…!]
The melting body of the nameless cultist suddenly bloated, then exploded with the sound of a leather sack bursting.
Splat!
Blood sprayed like a fountain, and chunks of flesh scattered.
I wondered if it was going to be that damn Meat Tree again, but what emerged defied my expectations.
Instead of rising sturdily, the flesh spread wide to the sides like a blooming flower. It was exactly what it looked like.
A needlessly well-shaped, giant female organ had opened up to swallow my magic! It was as natural as a sword sliding into its scabbard!
"Gasp…! That is!"
"Our Master has spread Archbishop Liselotte’s pussy wide!"
"Look at that cave-like depth! No matter how great the cock, it has no choice but to melt away in there!"
The succubi were spouting nonsense as if they had several screws loose.
What? Melt it?
"Bullshit!"
I could guarantee one thing: unless the god projected its power through a formal Apostle or descended in its true form, it could not stop my magic.
That was why I had confidently named it Punishment.
I watched the great sword being sucked into the undulating interior of whatever that Liselotte thing was and shouted.
"[Explode…!]"
Responding to my will, the sword began to glow with a blinding, incandescent light. The flames surrounding it spun faster and faster until a sound like something snapping echoed through the air.
Clang—!
The two spells I had forcibly fused with Spirit Language began to repel each other.
The light rejected the fire, and the fire flared even more violently to consume the light.
Even though I hadn't used space-time magic, the scenery began to distort. As the concentrated power surpassed its critical point, Ugly Prosperity desperately pulled in nearby tentacles to cover my spell, but…
This wasn't a spell that could be fully contained.
BOOOOOOM!!
With a thunderous roar, the world flickered white. A delayed wave of heat crashed over us, and the ground trembled.
Even though we were protected by the Cyclic Life barrier and the fortress of Yggdrasil, the aftershock was this intense. Imagine what it was like for the one who had to take it directly.
First, the mass of flesh and tentacles that had covered the great sword had vanished without a trace, likely vaporized instantly.
And a massive, visible hole had been carved into the seemingly endless army.
Usually, high-tier magic is referred to as siege-grade magic. It possesses enough power to bring down a fortress wall layered with all sorts of protective spells in a single hit if it lands properly.
But what about the magic just now? Even though Ugly Prosperity couldn't exert its full power yet, it had stepped forth as a god, and this was the result.
If Punishment were used in a siege, it wouldn't just take down a wall; it might have wiped out half the castle itself.
The cowards who feared they would all become Ugly Prosperity’s toys, the soldiers who had stood on the battlefield but felt hopeless about winning, and even the cultists who viewed their goddess as an absolute being…
Friend and foe alike, every single one of them stood there with their mouths agape.
It wasn't quite a Great Magic on the level of a miracle, but it was far too powerful to be dismissed as a mere high-tier spell. What should they call this, then?
…Their expressions made their thoughts crystal clear.
The battlefield, which had been sharply divided by manic lust, resignation, and fear, was united for a moment in sheer awe.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
Of course, turning the atmosphere around like this required a fitting price.
Despite being in my Dragonization state, which should have made me feel overflowing with power and even omnipotent, my body felt limp.
I still had about sixty percent of my mana left, but maximum mana output was a different issue entirely.
Because I had focused solely on increasing the power, I had to consume five times the mana of a normal high-tier spell all at once.
No matter how special my body was, this was bound to take a toll.
On top of that, forcibly manifesting a spell that shouldn't have worked using Spirit Language had drained a significant amount of mental strength.
However, even considering all that, this was an opportunity.
To avoid showing any signs of exhaustion, I straightened my back and looked down at the battlefield.
I glared with eyes that were likely slit vertically like a reptile's and exerted my Peer with everything I had.
Like a small animal puffing itself up to look bigger, I inflated my presence to the maximum.
Hoping that they would feel the same helplessness I felt when facing a god, and the same chill I felt when standing before a Sword Master’s blade.
Did it work? I saw their stunned gazes even from a distance and flashed a relaxed smirk.
"[Listen well, you dregs.]"
I pressed my mana and will into my voice, using Spirit Language.
The voice itself, having touched the realm of mystery, would be etched into their minds just as the divine words of Ugly Prosperity had been.
"[I do not listen to those weaker than me!]"
The cultists looked bewildered, wondering what the hell I was talking about. But as they say, you have to listen to a man until he’s finished.
"[And the current Ugly Prosperity is… as you just saw, weaker than me.]"
I could feel the cultists bristling. However, the ones throwing a fit right now weren't the ones who posed a real threat.
The ones I had to watch out for were the Cardinal-level ones. That was why I had thrown out that bait, but the ones radiating truly strong auras only watched me warily.
I shifted my gaze to Iona, who was holding a red thorn spear a short distance away.
“…….”
Iona silently gave a slight shake of her head.
Tsk.
I was hoping that if they got agitated and tried to use a big technique, Iona could snipe them with Chepesh. It seemed that wouldn't be so easy.
Still, this was a fairly successful opening move in terms of intimidation.
I pulled two top-grade mana potions from my inventory, downed them one after another, and surged my mana once more.
Hummm.
Prepared to cast magic at any moment, I shouted.
"[You probably can't speak, but you're listening, aren't you, Ugly Prosperity! You said you wanted to make me your Apostle?]"
I took a deep breath and exhaled the air in my lungs all at once.
"[I’ll make a counter-proposal. Become my slave, and I’ll at least spare your life!]"
“…Are you serious? You’re just joking, right? No matter how obsessed you are with fallen noble slaves, you wouldn't take an Evil God, right?”
I ignored Elisha’s genuinely worried voice from behind me and continued.
"[Well, I have no use for a non-virgin slave, though.]"
I gave a light shrug and nodded to Iona, who was in a javelin-throwing stance, ready to strike at any moment.
“Alright, then switch to wide-area type… and go! Bloom, Chepesh!”
Iona pulled her arm back to its limit and thrust it forward, shouting the activation command.
The thorn spear, leaving only a trail of red light in the air like a laser, instantly slammed into the panicked enemy lines.
And then, it bloomed magnificently.
K-crack!
The blood flowers, blooming by feeding on the blood of nearby creatures, possessed a seductive wickedness that resembled their master.
However, since the followers of Ugly Prosperity were also professionals in the business of seduction, they regained their senses quickly.
But the leisure they had shown earlier was nowhere to be found on their faces after being humiliated repeatedly.
Some excitement remained, but their momentum was clearly weaker than before.
Deciding that stalling any longer would bring no benefit, the cultists—dressed in outfits that were either clothes or underwear—shouted in unison.
“Brothers and sisters! Ravish the men, and ravish the women! Make them give birth to as many as those knife-ears killed! In the name of the Mother with a thousand breasts and a thousand cocks!”
It was the sound of the Great War, thought to have ended 300 years ago, beginning anew.
…Though it was a bit vulgar for such a momentous occasion.