Chapter 327: Tomb of the Serpent (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 327: Tomb of the Serpent (5)
"It was in the shape of a black butterfly."
Calian had said that once.
"I still don't know its exact meaning—whether there was another reason for it, or why it appeared in that form. So I just decided to believe my assumption was correct."
Alan looked down at the black butterfly that had landed on his fingertip, transmitting the word noisy into his mind. A moment later, his sharp eyes curved into a gentle crescent.
A black butterfly.
A black butterfly, indeed.
Turning his head toward Adelia, who stood far in the distance, Alan repeated the words to himself and let out an inscrutable smile. He lowered his gaze once more. The mysterious wings, which looked as if they had been crafted from a sheared corner of the night sky, fluttered peacefully. He stared at the sight for a long moment, deeply impressed.
Crush!
Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he clenched his fist and squeezed with all his might.
"Adelia."
The remnants of the wings, now resembling fine black sand, slipped through his fingers and drifted to the ground.
"...It's just a butterfly. Is that all?"
"You have learned something wicked, Adelia."
His voice was by no means loud, yet it reached Adelia’s ears with perfect clarity, even though the vast distance had shrunk her to the size of a finger. Having watched Alan and the black butterfly from afar, Adelia wore a disappointed expression.
A spell that reveals a person's deepest fear.
It was a wicked spell that, if misused, could condemn its victim to a lifetime of nightmares. While there was normally no issue with a mage learning and using magic, the story changed when that magic was a form of black magic. And that was exactly what Adelia had done. Pretending to hurl a massive spell of mixed attributes at Alan, she had secretly woven a black magic spell into it.
And Alan had seen a black butterfly.
"Is that not black magic? Since expanding your circles has become a distant dream, it seems you've grown greedy for things you should never have touched."
"Since when is there anything a mage shouldn't do? If you want to learn it, you learn it. If you want to use it, you use it."
"Your mouth may be for more than just spouting nonsense, but your head certainly isn't there just to learn any rubbish you please. You've lived long enough to rot. Did you not even know that?"
"Maybe I lived too long and forgot. What of it? In any case, I was curious what youngsters these days fear most. But a butterfly? To think the great Alan Manasil, whose reputation precedes him, is afraid of a butterfly."
"Did you think that using this on Alan Manasil would summon Lady Sispanian herself?"
"Yes. I expected at least someone of her stature to appear. How disappointing."
It was by that very Sispanian's decree that black magic had long since vanished from the continent. Had she not ordered the eradication of all black magic, save for a modified version of ‘taming’ used to train messenger birds?
"As a mage accumulates knowledge, the things they are permitted to do should decrease, not increase. Did you crawl out into the world without realizing even that?"
"Don't sound so scary. It's my first time using it, too. Don't be so uptight. It didn't even work properly."
Learning black magic. Embedding a stone in her heart.
Witnessing the deeds born of a mage's twisted curiosity, Alan clicked his tongue. Having already swept away Adelia's spell, he gathered his mana once more.
Rumble…
It felt as though the very air was flowing backward.
The earth vibrated and the sky wept. The ground, which had repeatedly split and fused back together, now resembled a dried-up riverbed. If one were to see the salt flats at the edge of the Great Desert, they would probably look like this.
Fine cracks spiderwebbed across the ground, and soon, crumbs of earth began to float upward. Small pebbles rose, followed by fist-sized stones, then chunks of rock, and finally, massive boulders. Having stripped away the entire top layer of the ground and suspended it in midair, Alan moved his fingers.
Snap!
Whoosh!
The debris filling the space between Alan and Adelia ignited. The flames shifted from red to blue, then to a deep, consuming black. Imbued with a heat so intense it was nearly incomprehensible, the spinning fragments of earth suddenly froze in midair. And then—
Snap!
Alan designated their target.
Flash!
Adelia vanished, only to reappear behind Alan.
The black flames did not stop. Bypassing Alan, they continuously changed direction, relentlessly pursuing Adelia. The hem of her robe melted away into nothingness.
Whoosh! Swoosh!
As if locked onto their target, the black fireballs pursued Adelia tenaciously, no matter where she teleported.
Eventually, a few of the fireballs struck Adelia's shield. Her gray Great Shield, reinforced with a layer of ice, melted away the instant it touched Alan's fire. The black flames, which seemed capable of burning darkness itself, grazed Adelia's shoulder.
It had only grazed her, yet she felt a searing pain as if her very skin were on fire.
Gritting her teeth, Adelia gathered her mana.
She manipulated the surrounding gravity once more to halt the fireballs. From the cracks in the shattered ground, she drew up massive, churning spheres of water. Spreading out like a colossal shroud, the water covered the sky above them before crashing down.
Sizzle!
The water collided with the unquenchable fire, instantly creating a massive cloud of steam that condensed into a torrential downpour. Adelia froze the falling rain. She poured her mana continuously until the black flames faded to blue, then to red, and finally vanished.
As the flames subsided, the sharply frozen raindrops surged toward Alan. Seeing this, Alan enveloped himself in an invisible shield. The ice, honed to razor-sharp points, flew at him and struck his barrier.
Yet, not a single sound was made.
There was no sound of ice striking the shield, nor any sound of Alan evading. It was as if a giant spatial pocket had opened; the shield completely absorbed every single ice blade Adelia threw.
Rip.
A moment later, a straight tear appeared in the space directly behind Adelia. Through the rift, the back of Alan, standing far ahead, was briefly visible. And then—
Swoosh! Swoosh!
The ice blades that had vanished while flying toward Alan poured out of the rift. Instead of expending energy to block Adelia's attack, Alan had simply connected the space around himself to the space behind her.
"...How annoying."
Quickly conjuring another shield to protect herself from her own attack, Adelia spat out a curse.
The stone embedded in her heart.
The stone that granted power exceeding that of a 7th Circle Master.
She had not yet fully unleashed its power. Of course, Alan had not exerted his full strength either, but the same was true for Adelia.
Lowering her hand toward the ground, Adelia closed her eyes for a moment. The circles in her heart began to spin frantically, releasing the crimson energy of the black pebble embedded within them. Just as Alan's brow furrowed slightly at the sight—
—I said it was noisy.
The voice that had sounded like an auditory hallucination rang in Alan's ears once more. This time, Adelia heard it too. The black butterfly—which had first appeared through her black magic, only to be carelessly crushed in Alan's hand—flew toward them again.
It was not a fake.
It was not an illusion drawn from the fears in Alan's heart. The first time had indeed been Alan's fear, but this was different.
Flutter, flutter.
With one flap of its wings, the burning flames froze.
With a second flap, the howling wind ceased.
With a third, flowing time ground to a halt.
Just a single butterfly.
The entire world stopped at the flutter of those tiny wings. Who would dare call such a thing an illusion?
"O Most Great..."
In a world where everything had stopped, the two Archmages, who were nothing but tiny creatures before the ancient dragon, ceased their battle. They bowed their heads and offered their greetings.
"...We pay our respects to Lady Sispanian."
To Calian, she was an incomparable confidante—a grateful presence who would pop up unexpectedly, offering comfort on some days and accepting his resentment on others.
To Franz, she was a living, breathing ancestor—the very reason why the pure white sword in the royal treasury bore the ridiculous name ‘My Frighteningly Scary Fani.’ She was also a distant figure who, in the cavern he had visited for Roselita, had stared blankly at his lifeless face before vanishing like sparks, leaving behind only the words, "That is enough."
And to most people, she was merely a character in an old fairy tale or a faded portrait.
But to mages, she was like Serenti. In fact, she was an even more absolute existence. Was the ancient dragon, who sustained Sistera in place of the sleeping gods, not the god of all mages? Facing such a being in person, even knowing she had come as a projection of her will rather than her true self, they could barely compose their trembling hearts.
"We apologize for causing a disturbance."
Had it been Calian, he might have had the audacity to ask what on earth brought her to such an odd place, which was neither the stone chamber of the Kairis Royal Palace nor Sispanian's Nest. Unfortunately, these two were true mages. It was a miracle they even managed to recall Sispanian's first words and offer an apology.
Still, to call it a disturbance... Surely Sispanian had not manifested twice just to break up a fight between two human mages.
Flutter, flutter.
The black butterfly, landing on Alan's fingertip once more, fluttered its wings.
—I was concerned you might sever Danu's Root.
And with that, she confirmed that she had indeed come to stop their fight.
The earth was split so deeply its bottom was invisible, the village was incinerated beyond recognition, and massive craters scarred the land. Looking around the ancient elf village, which had been completely ruined in such a short time, Adelia bowed her head and replied.
"I did not realize the roots of the Mother Tree reached this far."
The troublesome mage, who had claimed that neither black magic nor that black pebble mattered in the face of her curiosity, finally spoke with proper decorum. She did not make excuses or claim that most of the damage was caused by the youngster with the unusual hair color. She was not shameless enough for that. Seeing Adelia wear a serious expression for the first time, Alan let out a dry laugh, completely forgetting that Sispanian was still resting on his hand.
—I understand.
As if nodding, the butterfly fluttered its wings once more, and a shower of black light poured from its body. Like a glittering cluster of stars sweeping across the sky and then the earth, it flowed away into the distance.
Whoosh…
Then, miraculously, everything that had been scarred and burned began to return to its original state. Grass sprouted from the ash-covered earth, and stars revealed themselves in the cloud-filled sky.
It was as if time were flowing backward.
—However, leave this place untouched. It is Danu's request.
Neither of them answered. Or rather, they had no time to. Having delivered her message, the black butterfly did not linger. It flew away into the distant sky and vanished from sight.
Alan chuckled.
His young disciple had once said that if he embedded that black pebble into his heart, he might be able to point a sword at Sispanian. Calian, who had met not just Sispanian's will but her actual body, had made such a claim.
Who else in the world but Calian would think of drawing a sword before such a being?
"...My precious disciple is truly one of a kind."
He had spoken utter madness.
Murmuring those words, Alan watched the stardust trail left by the butterfly fade. When he finally lowered his gaze, Adelia had already vanished, having slipped away to parts unknown.
* * *
The long night continued.
"Prince Calian has decided to intervene."
"Is he helping Crown Prince Chase?"
"No. It is retaliation for threatening Crown Prince Franz and Hina."
"Perfect."
Kyrie relayed the situation to Arsen, who had been watching in shock as the Secritia Royal Knights fell one by one at Teilan's hands. Leaving his guard duty to Kyrie for a moment, Arsen stood up and brushed himself off.
"Where are you going?"
"I should help. I can't just stand by and watch."
Devlan was a slaughterer. He had committed a massacre. Who didn't know that Teilan was behind him? Now, Teilan was slaughtering the royal knights. Would this look like reflection and apology, or would it look like an ongoing threat?
"Sir Bern. No noble in the world wishes for a monarch to possess solitary, absolute martial power."
Arsen wasn't particularly pleased to recall Franz's words at a time like this, but he couldn't deny their truth. A fact was a fact.
"Since Kairis has decided to intervene, and since this intervention is justified, we might as well step in. The reason Sir Castrin came here is likely because of our prince."
Chase would not have sent Teilan here rashly. He, too, must have reached his limit after Devlan tried to touch Calian again. How could they just stand by and watch?
Rather than letting Teilan wipe out all those knights alone and saddle Chase with the label of ‘Devlan's son indeed,’ Arsen preferred to act on his own whim.
He teleported from the window to the grounds of the marquis's estate, right into the midst of Devlan's knights—whose numbers had already been cut in half—and grinned.
"Pleasure to meet you. I am Arsen Hertz, Vice-Commander of Kairis's Valkan."
While no noble would want a monarch who was strong alone, those same nobles would welcome with open arms a strong monarch who could protect them from a neighboring country with even greater military might.
Swoosh!
This time, he had not stepped forward to wage war on this land, but to return it to its rightful owner. Beside Arsen Hertz, Vice-Commander of Valkan, countless ice spears materialized and tore through the air.
The knights' swords shattered and vanished.
* * *
The sun rose.
The long, dark night passed.
Franz slept a long, deep sleep. He slept as the sun rose and set, as the moon rose and set, and as the sun rose and set once more.
—It is the path you must walk anyway. Don't you already know that?
—Stop this meaningless rebellion.
The voice he had tried to forget kept echoing in his mind.
—Squelch!
The sensation of his fingertips piercing someone's heart kept returning.
His clever mind, unable to forget, could never fully rest even in his dreams. He so often woke up thrashing, drowning in a metallic stench of blood that haunted him even in his sleep. It had been a long time since he had known true, deep rest.
For that reason, he slept an even longer, deeper sleep now.
Perhaps it was because he had fallen asleep under the influence of an anesthetic.
Or perhaps it was because he had drifted off after inhaling a floral scent thicker than the smell of blood.
For once, his entire slumber was filled with a sweet, sour scent. Intoxicated by that tart aroma, he slept deeply for a long time. Drunk on that unfamiliar scent instead of the metallic tang of blood, he slept on and on.
And when he opened his eyes.
"Would you like one?"
Instead of asking if he was awake, and instead of the cod he had insisted on eating as if it were a solemn vow, his younger brother held out a long, yellow banana.
He didn't ask if Franz had slept well, if he was still in pain, or if he was grateful for his help. He simply offered a banana.
Although bananas were piled up, the room was filled with the scent of sour tangerines. Only then did Franz notice a heap of light green tangerine peels. Finally understanding why his dreams had been filled with that sweet and sour scent, Franz curled one corner of his mouth into a smile.
"...Not that."
Do you think I'm you?
Furrowing his brow slightly, Franz pointed a finger toward the table. There lay the very last sour tangerine, left uneaten.
"I know you can't eat sour things."
"It makes no difference."
His stomach was completely empty after sleeping for who knew how many days. Whether it was a banana or a sour tangerine, it was all the same.
Calian, who had eaten the entire mountain of sour tangerines by himself while Franz slept, chose his words carefully before speaking.
"We've caught them all now. Thanks to you."
The serpent.
Franz accepted the single sour tangerine offered alongside those words.
The tart tangerine, handed to him by the brother who had woken him from his nightmare, tasted sweet.