Rising Fame (3)
Rising Fame (3)
"Guh—!"
'Why... Why am I losing?'
Gi-hyeok lowered his head to stare at the shadow piercing his chest.
"Ghk!"
A torrent of blood gushed from his mouth. His heart had been completely obliterated. If he remained still like this, death was inevitable.
He raised his head to look straight ahead. There stood the mage who had launched this attack, gazing at him with indifferent eyes.
"Don't fuck with me!"
He clutched his impaled chest and shoulder with both hands—then yanked. Hard enough to tear his own flesh apart.
"GAAAAAH!"
His left pectoral muscle up to his shoulder ripped open. The brutal act freed him from being skewered on the shadow's spear.
But staying like this meant death.
Thanks to a mage's extraordinary vitality, he could avoid instant death even with his heart destroyed. Yet in this state, he wouldn't last a minute.
So, he activated [Recovery].
Sssssss—
Flesh began regenerating. The waterfall of blood ceased. The gaping wound sealed shut.
Thump. Thump.
Even his horrifically mangled heart started beating again.
Having swiftly restored his body, he stretched out his hand and rapidly chanted:
"O Great Revival!"
Before him lay scattered corpses.
Sssss—
The light of [Recovery] seeped into them.
'I'll regroup before that bastard reacts!'
The holes in the corpses' bodies mended. He issued a command, making them rise and stand before him.
By healing them again, a corresponding price was exacted. The cost—authority over them—was paid into Gi-hyeok's hands.
A forced contractual binding.
Gi-hyeok healed them.
They obeyed his orders.
Of course, it wasn't flawless.
With a little thought, they could easily break free from the binding.
And Gi-hyeok knew this well. Over the years, more than a few had escaped his control. So, he removed their heads.
No head meant no thoughts of escape.
Magic was truly mysterious and profound.
Even without their most vital organ, these humans could still move.
And the God of Magic judged these headless corpses as "revived."
Thus, the binding held.
The mindless puppets carried out orders, bound by a contract they never desired.
'Damn it. How many seeds are left?'
Gi-hyeok cast [Recovery] on himself. Reactions surged throughout his body—the Hellvine seeds embedded in him resonating.
'Enough.'
He still had the strength to fight.
"Stop."
Then, an elder holding a staff walked up behind Gi-hyeok. He had no choice but to freeze. Arrogant as he was, even he wasn't foolish enough to defy the family's Grand Elder.
"Why?! I can win!"
But Gi-hyeok was his nephew.
The Grand Elder stroked his beard and asked in return:
"Against the owner of a Calamity-grade Magic Tool?"
"Calamity-grade?! Impossible!!" He pointed sharply at Si-woo. "There's no way a Calamity-grade tool would choose that nobody over a genius like me!!"
At the peak of his arrogance, the Grand Elder couldn't help but sigh.
"Sigh... Gi-hyeok."
In his eyes, he saw his nephew—bereft of reason. The only nephew he'd doted on since childhood was both endearing and painfully foolish.
"Our family's mages often look down on outsiders. That's not wrong. Those with diluted bloodlines are inferior to us, who carry the legacy of true mages."
For his sake, the elder imparted wisdom.
"But you must understand—sometimes, freaks like him exist."
The Grand Elder glanced sidelong at Si-woo.
Even his eyes couldn't measure the depths of that man.
Like trying to gauge the ocean's depth from its surface.
Then, he shifted his gaze to Ha-rin, hiding behind Si-woo.
Could the family's treasure, the [Heavenly Eye], perceive his limits?
No. For her, still unrefined, it was impossible. Even he, an 8th-Class Mage, couldn't see Si-woo's end—how could she?
Yet, even so, she had likely seen more than his nephew, who now stood fuming before him.
"I'll still fight!"
"Even if you're on the cusp of 6th-Class, this is reckless."
"That magician was the one who called it Calamity-grade! Why should I trust their nonsense?!"
"I understand your distrust of the Management Bureau's ratings."
For an elder of his experience, persuading his nephew wasn't difficult.
"But will you trust the young mistress's eyes?"
All it took was appealing to his family pride and sense of superiority.
"..."
"Then look. See whose side she stands on."
"But...!"
"Gi-hyeok. Let today be a lesson. You, who've never known defeat, have lost to an overwhelming gap. Shouldn't you rejoice? You've gained a stepping stone to greater heights."
But Gi-hyeok was no longer the obedient child the elder remembered.
"No!!"
His refusal struck the elder like a thunderbolt.
Defiance.
Rebellion.
Disobedience.
Arrogance.
Stubbornness.
Eccentricity. And audacity.
These were the fundamental traits of a true mage.
At the very least, the qualities a family mage should possess.
'My boy... When did you grow into such a mage?'
The elder felt a deep swell of emotion.
Where had the timid child who never dared oppose him gone?
Now, before him stood a mage bold enough to defy his words.
Of course, it was still just talk—action would have been better.
A true mage proved themselves through deeds, not words.
Yet, moved by his nephew's remarkable growth, the elder's heart softened.
"...Very well. Perhaps I was the one holding you back. Go. Walk your own path of magic."
"Thank you, Uncle!"
Mystery was profound and enigmatic.
Those who wielded it—mages—defied ordinary human understanding.
And Si-woo, who until recently had been just an ordinary man, frowned as he watched Gi-hyeok.
"I wasn't planning to let you go anyway."
Si-woo was no saint.
He'd let people be dragged into the vines just to gauge his opponent's abilities.
A supremely selfish choice.
Nor did he possess any foresight.
In the end, those taken became Gi-hyeok's puppets.
His gamble had backfired, bringing negative karma upon him.
But whether the sight of headless corpses unsettled him,
Or his actions bore bitter fruit,
He didn't regret his decision.
The outcome of choices was never something he could predict.
So he pressed forward without looking back.
This time was no different.
"Come at me! I won't go down easily now!"
"This time, I'll kill you before you can recover."
He had no intention of sparing someone who might become a future threat.
Si-woo stepped forward slowly, locking eyes with Gi-hyeok.
"Not going to make that funny face again?"
"Hah! That wasn't fear. It was disbelief. Isn't it absurd? A Calamity-grade tool choosing you over a genius like me."
Gi-hyeok's expression remained unshaken as he spat the words. He seemed utterly sincere.
Mages really were all weirdos.
With that thought, Si-woo murmured:
"Prepare."
If what he'd just shown was everything he had, there was no need to drag this out.
A single overwhelming strike—no chance for regeneration.
Bzzzzz—
As if responding to his command, the Lantern vibrated excitedly.
"This time will be different!!"
Guh—!
Gi-hyeok did something grotesque. He retched and pulled something from his mouth—a shriveled, finger-like object.
"No way, that's—!"
Section Chief Soo-hyeok, observing from the sidelines, gasped in shock.
"A Holy Relic!! The stolen artifact from a month ago—why?!"
A Holy Relic. Clutching the angel's finger, Gi-hyeok grinned madly.
Then he shouted:
"O Great Revival!"
The light of [Recovery] enveloped the finger.
Gi-hyeok wasn't trying to resurrect a dead angel.
His magic, [Recovery], couldn't restore life to the dead.
But the angel's finger was still alive.
That was enough.
Ooooooh—
Light erupted forth.
Simultaneously, Gi-hyeok began weaving a contract.
The condition: Complete physical restoration.
The price: Absolute servitude.
Ooooooh—
The awakened angel resisted.
A noble being of the heavens couldn't bow to a mere earthly insect—it coldly rejected the contract.
But Gi-hyeok didn't relent. Forcing the terms, he continued the restoration.
The finger, all that remained of the angel, lacked the strength to resist [Recovery]. As the restoration progressed—click. The contract took hold.
Twitch. Twitch.
The finger squirmed, trying to escape before the contract finalized. But it was too late.
Clank—
The God of Magic had weighed the scales.
This was the Joo family's secret art.
[Forced Contract].
And so, the contract proceeded without the angel's consent.
Ooooooooh—
Golden light spread from the finger, shaping wings.
"Hahaha! Success!"
As the restoration completed, the blinding radiance faded, revealing the angel.
Dozens of majestically unfurled wings.
And between them—where each feather should have been—horrific fissures split open, thousands of eyeballs blooming like flowers before snapping wide.
"Kekeke. To force a contract with a divine messenger... My nephew never fails to impress."
An angel had descended.
.
.
.
Ooooooooooooooh—
Then, the forbidden book in Si-woo's left hand began to resonate.
The vibration spread rapidly, forming ripples that reached the angel.
Twitch.
The angel's wings, radiating holy splendor, trembled faintly.
Ooooh—
A second resonance.
The angel felt instinctive terror at the ominous pulse gnawing at its very soul.
"What are you doing?! Move! Kill him!!"
To fulfill the contract, it had to act.
But fear had paralyzed the angel's body, leaving it frozen midair.
And Si-woo—stared deeply at the forbidden book.
"...This?"
Shhhhhhh—!
As if turned by invisible hands, the book's pages fluttered wildly like leaves in a storm. The deafening rustle of aged paper filled the air.
Then, on a single page—where the fluttering stopped—one sentence stood written:
[Method to Destroy a God]
"Method to Destroy a God..."
Si-woo whispered softly.
In response, the angel's body began to tremble violently.
The angel, having descended to earth once more, was afraid.
Afraid of death.