Chapter 341
Chapter 341
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 341
Chapter Title: Theodore (2)
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“I've never once expected anything from you. Not even once.”
Theodore spoke in his usual voice as he thrust his sword through Karl's back from behind. That was exactly why his words rang with sincerity.
Oliver, hanging upside down from the ceiling, watched the scene in silence.
It was the perfect moment to strike, but the situation was too sudden—he wanted to observe first.
Besides, something else had caught his attention. For instance, the piercing wound Theodore had inflicted on Karl.
Normally, when someone pierced a body with their hand, a wound would form and blood would spill from it. But the sight before him was anything but normal.
Far from creating a wound, Theodore's arm and sword were merging seamlessly with Karl's body.
Bubbles formed where flesh met flesh, veins and blood vessels intertwined, and even their life forces tangled together.
It was fusion. Though Oliver had no knowledge of that particular discipline, he knew it instinctively.
Yet what fascinated him just as much was Karl's emotional response.
Karl, who had served as the chief overseer of Martel's human experiments, was ironically plunged into a pit of fear, terror, confusion, betrayal, and sorrow—not unlike the children he had experimented on.
His reaction was as if the world itself had come crashing down.
Oliver couldn't comprehend it. Not in the slightest.
Theodore's actions were unexpected, sure, but they weren't all that different from what Karl himself had been doing. So why react like that?
It was the same thing he'd done to others—just with the roles reversed.
What baffled Oliver even more was his own faint sense of pity as he watched impassively. It was slight, but reminiscent of how he'd felt about Collin.
Thud.
Oliver dropped silently from the ceiling to the floor. In that same moment, Theodore deftly devoured his own grandson.
With the eyes of a black mage, Oliver could see it clearly.
Theodore's life force and emotions consuming Karl's.
It was like a snake swallowing a rat whole.
“Ahh... Thank you for waiting.”
Theodore said after absorbing Karl's body entirely. He looked utterly refreshed.
“No need to thank me. I was just curious myself, so I watched.”
“Ha, is that so?”
“Yes.”
Oliver nodded.
It was the first time he'd seen a ritual that devoured a person whole in that manner.
Puppet had once demonstrated something similar in the contaminated zone, and it resembled the cannibalism of the flesh cook's disciples, but there were clear differences.
Puppet and the flesh cook's disciples practiced 'devouring'—consuming targets for nutrients. Theodore, on the other hand, fully absorbed them, seizing only control of their minds.
It was 'fusion.'
He'd have to study it in detail to be sure, but Theodore's technique seemed superior.
'Though it looks like it has its weaknesses...'
Oliver asked,
“May I ask a few questions?”
“As many as you like.”
“That technique just now... Did the School of Life develop it independently? Or did you borrow it from Puppet or the flesh cook?”
“You've met them?”
“I met Puppet, but not the flesh cook. I have met his disciples, though, so I know they consume human flesh to absorb power.”
“Hah... And you're still alive? Impressive... Or maybe not?”
“...?”
Oliver tilted his head at the cryptic words.
Impressive? Or maybe not? What did that mean?
Before he could ask, Theodore answered.
“You're right—it was based on their techniques, refined in the School of Life's style. Their methods are so inefficient.”
Oliver nodded in agreement.
As he'd thought earlier, Puppet and the flesh cook's ways were devouring. Theodore's was fusion—direct absorption.
In terms of efficiency alone, Theodore's method was superior.
Proof of that: he'd absorbed Karl's life force and youth, becoming far younger himself. He'd even taken Karl's mana and mana circuits, making them his own.
“Is that all your questions?”
“Hmm... Could I ask a couple more?”
“Go ahead.”
Theodore stretched languidly, savoring his newfound youth, and readily agreed. It was generous treatment, separate from the euphoria of devouring Karl.
Kevin had described him as having no such personality. While wondering at the reason for this kindness, Oliver pressed on with his questions.
“Might I ask why you're so unaffected?”
“What?”
“Oh, no offense intended. I'm just personally curious. As far as I know, Karl was your grandson, but you don't seem troubled at all by devouring him... I'm wondering why.”
“Ha... That's an odd question coming from a black mage.”
Oliver nodded as if conceding the point. As Theodore said, it wasn't the sort of question a black mage like him would ask.
Still, curiosity was curiosity.
The moment Theodore pierced and absorbed Karl's body, Karl's emotions had been ones of genuine betrayal, sorrow, and terror. In other words, Karl had trusted Theodore.
Oliver had seen those emotions before—in children first abandoned by their parents at the orphanage, or those just sold to the mines.
The feeling of being cast out by the world.
For a fleeting moment, Karl had shone with the same vulnerability as those powerless children.
That's why it nagged at him. Strangely, it reminded him of Collin.
“Whatever the case... He's still my grandson, isn't he?”
“You've even devoured your own child's body, so what's a grandson?”
Theodore casually dropped the shocking fact without a hint of remorse.
Unsure how to react, Oliver let out an exclamation.
“Ah... Why?”
“Why? Hmm... Why do you think people have children?”
“The orphanage director told us our parents were too stupid to use birth control.”
Theodore burst into laughter—Pah hah hah hah! He seemed genuinely amused.
“Not wrong. Most ordinary humans are born that way—from booze and carelessness. But some plan their children. The wealthy, the powerful nobles.”
“Why do they have kids?”
“To pass on their genes.”
“Genes?”
“Yes. It's the only way to give fleeting human life any real meaning. As long as their child lives, it's proof they existed. Does that make sense?”
“Hmm... Honestly, it's a hard concept for me to grasp.”
Oliver answered frankly. As an orphan, no one had ever explained parents, children, or family to him. Nor had anyone taught him about planning for the future or the significance of descendants.
Yet ironically, Theodore was explaining it now.
“A rare few humans amass great things in life. Overflowing wealth, influence reaching the far ends of the world, knowledge to change it all. But when death comes, it all turns to dust, meaningless. So they have children—to pass their legacy to a part of themselves, surviving indirectly. That's the purpose of offspring.”
“Hmm...”
Oliver wasn't particularly sympathetic, but it was an intriguing perspective.
“But then, shouldn't you have spared your child and grandson Karl?”
Oliver pointed out the inconsistency, but Theodore shook his head as if he'd missed the point entirely.
“You still don't get it... Put the other way around: if one overcomes death and achieves eternal life, blood relations like children or grandchildren lose all meaning.”
Theodore laughed as he said it, radiating joy at transcending absurd reality and satisfaction at reaching his goal.
Oliver asked again.
“Do you have a technique for true immortality? Professor Kevin said the School of Life doesn't have one.”
“Correct—we don't. But we will soon. Because you're here.”
Theodore pointed at Oliver.
“Me... you mean?”
Oliver glanced around, double-checking.
“Yes, you.”
“...There's some misunderstanding—”
“Kuh hah hah hah hah hah hah!”
Theodore suddenly erupted in laughter—maniacal, almost unhinged.
“Hilarious. Truly hilarious... To think the one blessed with everything humans can only dream of is this foolish... It enrages me.”
Theodore's face hardened instantly.
“You said blending emotions and mana isn't your specialty?”
“Yes.”
“That you just happened to use it?”
“Yes.”
“That your blood magic wasn't learned—you just mimicked it on sight?”
“Yes.”
“And your spells weren't taught—you could just use them?”
“Similar. I learned them after, but used them first.”
Having heard all the answers, Theodore's mirth vanished, replaced by intense jealousy and rage toward Oliver—and fury at the world's injustices.
It was a chain of utterly incomprehensible events.
Among everyone Oliver had met, no one was as blessed as Theodore. Yet here he was, envying an orphan like Oliver and raging at the world's unfairness.
An inexplicable reaction.
“Do you know the price I paid to fully absorb your blood?”
“...? You mean those mages up on the ceiling earlier?”
“Yes. Even transplanting a mere speck—not even a drop—caused massive rejection. Top mages twisted and rotted from the inside, dying in agony.”
“...”
“So I sacrificed over a hundred mages' mana and life force as payment to barely implant a few drops into Karl's body. And I devoured him! ...Tell me! Who are you? What are you, to have such blood?!”
Theodore, already half-convinced, still demanded answers from Oliver.
Unlike his excitement, Oliver felt only confusion and bewilderment.
Like encountering a drunken lunatic babbling on the street.
Still, Oliver responded politely.
“...I'm just Xenon Bright, personal aide to the Magic Tower professor, and Dave, the fixer for Sector T.”
Not the answer he wanted, Theodore seethed with displeasure. As if he'd been mocked.
“It's too much for the likes of you. Far too much!!”
Theodore bellowed, then extracted emotions from his body with practiced ease and spread them across the floor.
Astonishingly, it was Marie's original black magic—the Bless that Oliver had just used.
Theodore's emotions morphed into a mist of light, sweeping through the entire building and overlaying the control Oliver had preemptively seized.
Oliver tried to defend his control belatedly, but he was one step too slow.
Vmmm... Keeiii... Shraa拉克! Shraa拉克!
Like a black mage from the start, Theodore wielded black magic flawlessly, twisting the building's upper levels into grotesque shapes.
Into a globe of wireframe. The floor beneath Oliver's feet grew perilously unstable.
Incredible skill.
Oliver realized this wasn't just from absorbing Karl—he'd laid the foundations long ago.
Which made it even harder to understand.
Why would someone of this caliber betray the Magic Tower, sacrifice countless mages, even his own grandson—just for a few drops of Oliver's blood?
But soon, Theodore—now hanging upside down from the top of the globe—provided the answer himself.
“By devouring you whole, I'll overcome the curse of aging and death that gods inflicted on man! I'll conquer the apocalypse! Close the gap with Merlin, prove I'm the greatest mage! The chosen one!!”
Theodore shouted the intriguing word and unleashed massive electricity across the warped terrain manipulated by Bless.
Thick, jagged blue bolts visibly engulfed the entire structure.
Judging normal defenses useless, Oliver leaped, fleeing the electric surge.
“Where do you think you're going!”
As if anticipating it, Theodore inscribed a ritual on the Bless-warped ground, manipulating the spreading electricity to attack Oliver.
Dozens of lightning bolts flew at him from all directions.
Simple in appearance, but no ordinary mage could control it.
Before the strikes hit, Oliver used a vial of his stored blood as medium to summon a blood balloon, securing a mass of blood. He wrapped it around himself like wings, narrowly dodging.
Still cloaked in his Black Suit, Oliver closed in on Theodore and asked,
“Do you know about the Doctrine of the End?”