Chapter 359: A Thousand-Year Promise, A Thousand-Year Wait (4)
Chapter 359: A Thousand-Year Promise, A Thousand-Year Wait (4)
Ratatoskr opened, and a man emerged from within.
Yandel Lindelheit.
Wreathed in a shroud of light, he stood looking up at the sky.
“Master!”
“You…!”
Carla and Elisha called out, their voices brightening as they moved to run toward him… but their steps faltered almost immediately.
Yandel’s purple eyes were staring blankly at the sky. Those eyes, which usually sparkled with a constant shift between playfulness and mischief, were now dull and lifeless.
“……Ah.”
Their gazes hadn't even met. Elisha had only caught a glimpse of him from a distance, but she knew. She couldn't help but notice.
She didn't know what had happened to Yandel in the interim… but the Yandel standing there now was not the Yandel she knew.
There was a void within him, worn down and eroded over an immeasurable span of time until nothing remained.
His presence was so faint that, were it not for his shallow breaths, one wouldn't even know he was alive.
He exuded an aura of utter indifference to the world, as if the only thing he could still feel was an all-encompassing fatigue.
None of these were traits Elisha recognized in her Yandel.
The mist-like shroud of light surrounding him was ethereal and beautiful, yet Yandel, standing at its center, felt dark—as if he were absorbing all that light into himself.
Was this what it felt like to be a person living only because they could not die? If she had to describe the current Yandel, he was like the cold ashes left behind after a fire has completely burned out.
That was why her feet had stopped of their own accord.
Elisha could not fathom what kind of ordeal could change a person so drastically. She could only bite her lip, her heart sinking.
Unable to approach or even find the words to speak, Elisha stood frozen.
But this time, Yandel looked at her.
Their eyes met.
Just as Elisha was about to avert her gaze, lacking the courage to look directly into his dead eyes, Yandel’s purple pupils suddenly flickered with light.
“Eh…?”
While a bewildered Elisha blinked blankly, focus began to return to Yandel’s hazy eyes.
His gaze, which had been fixed on something far beyond this place, was now directed at Elisha. Then, a faint smile followed.
Yandel’s lips curled up so slightly that even a High Elf’s sensitive perception could barely catch it, and then he looked back up at the sky.
However, that sense of precariousness from moments ago was gone.
Just as Elisha gathered her courage to speak again, Yandel beat her to it, reaching his hand toward the sky he had been watching.
As if snatching something hanging above, or perhaps lifting something up.
Following that slow gesture, the mist-like shroud of light surrounding him began to sparkle and ascend toward the heavens.
It was a beautiful sight, resembling a flowing Milky Way, but Elisha could only watch in horror.
“Is that… mana?!”
Indeed. Every single speck of that light was highly condensed mana.
When it was still, it had merely sparkled pleasantly, but the moment it began to move with purpose, its true presence was revealed.
It was a bizarre illusion, as if the entire world were being enveloped by Yandel’s mana. There was no way Ugly Prosperity would simply stand by and watch such a massive fluctuation of magical power.
[How?!]
Ugly Prosperity, who had been swinging her arms at those who came to interfere with her today, gaped in shock.
She then began to draw up every last drop of the divine power she had been hoarding.
A pink current swirled around her head and arms, and even the half-cracked, egg-like birthing chamber beneath her.
Ugly Prosperity possessed no specific offensive Authority.
However, immense divine power was a formidable weapon in its own right.
Sensing that whatever Yandel was doing was extraordinary, she summoned her full strength, intending to crush him before he could finish.
It was a decision born of a mix of calculation—that the current Yandel wouldn't die from just this—and a survival instinct screaming that she was in danger.
It was the right call. In truth, Yandel had gathered his strength with the intent to kill Ugly Prosperity, and he was fully prepared to do so.
Her massive palms came together as if in prayer, leaving a small gap between them. Within that space, pink divine power began to compress into a sphere.
Vroooom—
The sheer pressure of the density was so high it felt as if space itself were warping. Furthermore, given the nature of her power, though it wasn't a formal Authority, it began to trigger indiscriminate sexual arousal in the surrounding area.
That was why Iris, who had been trying to destroy the birthing chamber while Ugly Prosperity was momentarily distracted, suddenly collapsed.
As a High Elf with strong sexual desires and depleted mana, her resistance was naturally low.
However, the others were not as affected.
Iona, who was indifferent to typical lust, was fine, as was Helena, who was in a state of Spirit Mediumship where no other god's divinity could intrude.
And both of them still remembered the request Yandel had made.
Shaking off the crushing pressure of the divine power, they rose and struck with their full might.
A massive blood spear exploded against the back of one of Ugly Prosperity’s hands, and a giant lion’s paw struck the same spot immediately after.
BOOM!
The two attacks landed in such perfect synchronization that the sounds of impact were almost simultaneous. Of course, neither could inflict a significant wound on Ugly Prosperity’s body… but the force of the impact didn't just vanish.
[N-No…!]
One of her hands was pushed aside. The trajectory of the divine power beam she was about to fire veered off course.
CRAAAAASH!
The beam boasted devastating power, melting the ground and uprooting the forest. But what did power matter if it didn't hit its target?
Unfazed by the trail of destruction that had just grazed him, Yandel sent the last of the light into the sky.
The once-dark sky was now shimmering with countless stars.
It was a scale so impossible it felt as if an individual's magic had filled the entire world.
Everyone stopped fighting and stared blankly at the sky. It was a sight so unbelievable they had no choice.
However, those who had reached a certain level of mastery saw something slightly different.
“You really are….”
The basic components of magic are imagination and mana.
Imagination is naturally influenced by the caster’s mental image, and mana ultimately moves only through the caster’s will. Therefore, the caster’s very existence is inevitably etched into every spell.
Especially in the case of large-scale, high-powered magic, one can sometimes glimpse the caster’s heart just by looking at it.
The shroud of light—no, the cluster of stars—that Yandel had raised did not radiate the suffering Elisha had initially feared.
Overwhelming affection and longing.
Only these two emotions were contained within.
How Yandel had counted the stars and his memories. How he had endured each day. What he had suffered for.
All of it crashed into the hearts of the onlookers like a massive flood.
A person loving someone.
Though perhaps unintentional, this simple yet heavy sentiment directly negated Ugly Prosperity’s divinity.
[It’s impossible! Love is nothing more than a byproduct of lust! If it weren't, then I… what happened to my children…!]
Ugly Prosperity clawed at her past wounds with a trembling voice.
Not all Evil Gods were born evil. Ugly Prosperity, too, must have been called by a different name in the past.
Surely, she had her own story.
But this was a battlefield. Yandel had no intention of being considerate of her circumstances.
Flash!
Like flowers blooming, every single star embedded in the sky transformed into a massive magic circle.
The magical light flowing from the circles that blanketed the sky drove away the night and illuminated the earth.
Then, the light took the form of burning greatswords and began to pour down from the heavens.
Whish! Whish! Whish!
The greatswords fell with terrifying momentum, and not a single one missed; every one of them targeted Ugly Prosperity.
[This much is…!]
Gritting her teeth, Ugly Prosperity raised her arms and began to desperately swat the greatswords away.
Though the interference was severe, she had recovered more strength than before. She didn't even need to catch them; simply striking them caused the greatswords to shatter and explode.
However, with every strike, her porcelain skin was peeled away, and she could not avoid shedding drops of crimson blood.
Punishment was not a Strategic Magic, but its power was far beyond that of a simple Advanced Magic.
Boom! Bang! Crash!
She swatted them away again and again. Even as her followers were swept up in the explosions and the pests who had been annoying her for days turned tail and fled, this was all Ugly Prosperity could do.
But as they say, many drops make a puddle.
The wounds were merely slight tears in her skin at first—damage no worse than a needle prick.
But when those pricks accumulated by the thousands, flesh began to be torn away.
As time passed, Ugly Prosperity’s delicate hands became increasingly tattered. Her blood pooled on the ground, and groans of pain began to escape the lips that had been so composed until now.
[Urgh….]
But Yandel’s magic did not end. Most of the magic circles had already spat out one greatsword, yet a second casting was already beginning.
The magic would continue to pour down until the mana within the circles was completely exhausted.
Realizing this, Ugly Prosperity began firing beams of divine power, even at the cost of abandoning some of her defense.
Her target was not the magic circles in the sky, but their master, Yandel. However, even this was not easy.
—I forbid it!
Thick roots of the World Tree erupted from the ground, intertwining repeatedly to form a massive wall.
THOOM!
Cyclic Life managed to block Ugly Prosperity’s attack despite the earth-shaking impact.
Thanks to that, Yandel was able to release all his remaining mana without any interference.
The greatswords fell upon Ugly Prosperity like a meteor shower, leaving white trails behind. She tried her best to block them, but it seemed even her giant hands could not block out the sky.
[Aaaaaah!]
Ugly Prosperity’s hands grew increasingly mangled, and holes began to be punched through the force field she had wreathed in divine power.
Eventually, she gave up on parrying altogether, covering only her head and curling her body into a pathetic ball.
Conversely, every time Yandel poured out his mana, as if shedding the weight of the years along with it, life gradually returned to his dead eyes.
A relaxed smile played on his stiff lips, and color returned to his pale skin.
And so, when he finally looked exactly like the Yandel Elisha knew so well.
The magic circles that had filled the sky vanished without a trace, and silence and darkness descended upon the world once more.
Ugly Prosperity, who had barely managed to protect her face, could no longer move.
Thanks to the arrangements of Cyclic Life, Yandel had lost most of his memories from within the time distortion. Having returned to his former self, he smirked and spoke.
“I have descended.”
It was a belated declaration of his arrival.