Chapter 191
Chapter 191
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 191
Chapter Title: Shattering the Blood Sky
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Pitch-black sphere.
Its presence was extraordinary.
Even the moon, floating arrogantly in the blood-red sky and gazing down on all creation, had an undeniably overwhelming aura...
But the pressure felt even greater now, in this silent stance that fixed its gaze directly on me.
One could call it truly transcendent.
And that was despite it being no larger than a human head.
In other words...
It even made me hallucinate that the massive blood-red moon hadn't been armor or a seal at all.
"......"
Was it just an illusion?
My back was damp with cold sweat.
My ragged breathing echoed in my ears in time with my heartbeat—I couldn't tell if it was really my breath or just ringing in my ears.
Twitch-.
My fingertips froze as I thought.
Should I strike first?
Somehow, right after seeing the Demon King's attack, it felt like I'd be too late to respond...
And yet, the crisis instinct that moving first would cost me my life crossed my mind simultaneously.
Amid all this, only questions stood out clearly.
How exactly would this thing attack?
Even as the blood-red moon, it had only used bizarre methods.
Deliberately shattering its own body to hurl fragments...
Firing its tongue despite being a moon...
And finally plummeting down with the force to smash its own flesh—far from ordinary attacks.
Now that it had revealed its true face...
The method it chose was simple approach.
Whirr-.
A vibration? It sounded like the buzzing of a swarm of bees in my ears. Maybe tinnitus from my focus pushed to the limit.
My condition was so wrecked, I couldn't tell for sure.
But one thing was clear: the jet-black sphere was drawing nearer by the second.
'......?'
Something was off.
It was definitely closing the distance.
My senses across my whole body affirmed the sphere's approach—except for my vision, which shook its head.
Because the approaching sphere's size remained perfectly constant.
It was clearly coming closer, so why did it look the same size?
I stared blankly at the sphere and collided with it just like that.
Crunch-.
I couldn't hold back a groan as blood spewed from my mouth.
Pain surged belatedly. Was this what it felt like to fall from a mountaintop and slam into the ground?
It was as if my entire body had been shattered to pieces.
I hadn't fallen only because I'd been too slow to even perceive the opponent's attack, let alone my flesh.
My limbs trembled, vertigo hitting me, as I turned to look behind.
The sphere had already passed right through me.
'What just...'
Missing its movement for a split second was secondary.
The fact that it had passed through me without leaving a piercing wound on my flesh was tertiary.
The biggest question was how a sphere that size could strike my entire body at once.
In other words...
I'd taken an impact like colliding with a house-sized iron ball.
A physically impossible phenomenon—was it related to the perspective confusion I'd just experienced?
'Is it the subtlety of stillness amid motion? No. That alone doesn't explain—'
Crunch.
Before the second impact could hit, I squeezed out every ounce of internal energy to form a protective aura. It came out as a ragged suit of armor, like junk metal welded together.
Better than nothing.
"Cough...!"
My already mangled body made the pain similar, but the impact was lessened.
Even so, the steadily accumulating damage to my flesh was enough to force me to my knees.
"......"
Spitting blood, I thought.
Had there ever been a moment this powerless since my regression? Even facing those two Demon Kings before hadn't been this bad.
Boom...!
This time, the impact came from above. My spine felt like it would snap.
At least I'd already been on my knees, so that was fortunate.
If I'd been standing in my current state, that blow would've crushed my kneecaps.
If my aura's quality had been even slightly off, my whole body would've been squashed like a pressed rat.
I resisted with all my might.
I felt blood seeping from my gums where my molars ground together.
Then a voice reached me.
[Re, turn, to me.]
"......"
The grating voice in my ear somehow resembled a girl's. Was it because I'd seen Deathberry?
The smile that had vanished bloomed again.
'Persistent...'
It still hadn't given up.
At this point, it was almost amusing.
If it weren't the Demon King, that is.
"...Want me to teach you how to have me?"
[......]
For a moment, the pressure eased slightly. Like it was leaning in to listen.
"Kill me first, then take my corpse."
I wanted to spit blood-mixed saliva, but I didn't have that luxury—such a pity.
[......!]
It had no facial features left, but I sensed it from the atmosphere.
This bastard's temper flared up again.
The sphere charged once more, and I braced for the next impact.
—I tried to brace.
Kwaaaaaaaa—!
Suddenly, a terrifying mana presence erupted from a point ahead. The pain racking my body turned to chills in an instant.
The black sphere, the Demon King's attention, finally shifted from me for the first time. Just that eased my breathing.
The Demon King's focus turned to the source of the mana.
A short distance away.
From the rubble of a collapsed building, divine energy streams were bursting forth.
It was like the lid popping off a jar stuffed full of steam.
The mana streams surged explosively, blurring into afterimages.
"......"
This was my second time seeing grand magic, and the caster was the same person...
But this grand magic felt on a whole different level.
Fwoosh...
Color clung to the bluish mana streams. They took the shape of a great tree's roots etched across the sky.
The self-luminous purple roots exuded a mysticism surpassing the Milky Way crossing the night sky.
The mystic art of magic.
In that instant, I understood the mindset of those who devoted their lives to that field.
As a child, anyone witnessing such a sight couldn't help but yearn for it.
The blood-red that had tainted the shadow world vanished completely in this moment.
Soon, the hundreds of roots traversing the sky curved downward...
And a purple tidal wave lashed the black sphere.
* * *
Alderson Marver had first learned of Cartel Academy in ancient times, far predating now.
"...Become a professor?"
He was a young man.
Already in his forties then, but his appearance and demeanor were undoubtedly youthful.
Wrinkle-free face and all, Alderson looked up at the man he called "hyungnim" with a tilt of his head.
Hyungnim beamed.
"Yeah. Old."
"Why me."
"I've told you countless times, the joy of teaching is..."
"The greatest joy a human can know?"
A sneer crossed the young Alderson's face.
"That's not it. What hyungnim really wants to say is that teacher and student can become family... something like that, right?"
Hyungnim's expression hardened.
Alderson pressed on sharply, knowing full well.
"Face it, hyungnim. Mom and Dad are already dead."
"......"
"The dead should be buried in your heart. Why else have graves? So hyungnim, live your own life. Quit playing teacher."
"Old."
He turned away without listening.
Alderson returned to his mage tower and holed up there. It was practically seclusion.
He was deep into a new academic frenzy at the time.
The new field that rocked the narrow world of mages—puppetry.
Alderson didn't step a foot outside his stone-walled tower.
It was a mad study akin to the closed-door training of peak martial artists.
He lost track of seasons passing.
Lost in his research, Alderson suddenly realized he'd reached his goal.
"It's done...! Finally complete! Haha!"
When he crafted his most precise puppet, Alderson whooped and burst from the mage tower.
Sweaty and disheveled, he went to find hyungnim.
What greeted him were three graves.
"...Died a year ago. Chronic illness. We only found out after he collapsed."
"Worried about you till the end. Insisted we not tell you about his illness or death."
"...Last words?"
Hyungnim's friend replied as Alderson stared blankly at the graves.
"Leave Old to focus, he said."
"......"
Alderson's nickname.
Now that his family was gone, a name unused and forgotten.
"...And those behind you...?"
"...Puppets."
Two puppets identical to his parents stood behind Alderson, but the man who'd see them was already gone.
Alderson quietly asked himself.
Who had truly been bound by the dead?
* * *
He spent four days standing before the graves, collapsing from exhaustion.
Regaining consciousness, Alderson headed to the empire's fiercest battlefield.
The land of war and savagery.
The Wastelands.
Southern Empire.
Clashing factions vying for interests, ferocious monsters, beyond imperial reach—thus the lawless zone hiding the most cultists.
Alderson spent three years there as a war mage. Memories from that time were hazy.
Only how much he'd killed stood out vividly.
He threw himself into battle seeking his own death.
By the time he earned the ridiculous moniker [Death of the Battlefield], an imperial envoy arrived.
A nobleman with scarlet hair down to his waist.
"Alderson Marver?"
"Yeah?"
"Came on rumors. In three years, you've slain hundreds of cultists in the south, overwhelming even high priests in duels."
As the haughty gaze swept his body, Alderson shuddered.
He felt the gaze of an absolute being.
Ruby-like eyes seemed to scan his insides completely.
The nobleman's lips twisted upward.
"Impressive enough. Won't be a waste of time. Talent too good to squander as a mercenary duel weapon."
"Who the hell are you...?"
Extraordinary aura, red hair.
And an imperial letter to boot.
Alderson pegged him as imperial blood.
It was true, but not the full truth.
"Call me Red."
"Th-the Crimson Sorcerer...!"
Foremost of the seven-colored grand mages, lord of crimson flame, empire's strongest, immortal.
Countless titles adorned the man before him.
Alderson wasn't one to cower before authority, but his heart raced now.
Red spoke.
"A vacancy among the seven colors. Been seeking an heir, and you fit. Not immediately, of course."
"I..."
"I know. Deep sorrow in your eyes. Heart demon, perhaps? Pointless, but humans always need growing pains."
Red recited flatly, then handed something over.
"Read it. A letter from your brother."
"Pardon?"
The empire's noblest mage left after those words.
Alone, Alderson stared blankly at the letter. Unfolding and reading took little time.
Nothing special.
Bitter words, nagging, worry as expected from a dying brother: Be happy. Live long...
"......"
The sun had set before he knew it.
Still gazing at the single-page letter, Alderson realized something else was inside.
"This is..."
A photo.
He laughed upon seeing it.
The first smile since his brother's death.
He'd thought his brother left alone.
Pitiful brother failing his role, dying in lonely agony on his sickbed.
No.
His bedside had been crowded.
With students.
"...Better than blood ties."
Seeing their bright smiles, Alderson couldn't help but smile bitterly too.
And the next year.
Alderson Marver took office as a professor at Cartel Academy.
* * *
I'll admit it.
Teaching others isn't easy.
It might even be the polar opposite of ordinary talent.
Imparting to the less gifted demanded endless patience.
"Your class is so boring, sir."
A cadet with an unusually bright disposition.
Commoner-born, but top grades and well-liked.
From her seat and peers' glances, likely the class center.
Only flaw: too nosy? Lingering after class to chatter at the academy's least popular teacher.
Alderson replied indifferently.
"Why does teaching need to be fun?"
"No fun means no interest, no interest means no will to learn!"
"That's 'cause your intellect's low. My prep's perfect. With zeal and dignity, you'd grasp it."
"Ew."
"What."
"Your speech is so old-man..."
"...Precious knowledge is always thus. Only the qualified have the right."
"Ah. There you go again..."
The girl made a fed-up face, then blurted.
"Then mix in some jokes during class! That'd lighten the mood right up!"
"...I'll consider it."
She was the only cadet showing him any interest, so he humbly accepted.
Next day.
"The sun sets early these days, so..."
Class over, Alderson cleared his throat and tried a pun with all his effort.
"...hurry back to the dorms-gu-ma."
"......"
"......"
Afterward, Alderson skipped the podium for a week.
On the eighth day.
Finally overcoming the shame, Alderson sought the cadet who'd given that damn advice.
"Puhahaha!"
She burst into laughter like she'd just heard a punchline.
"You. You wrecked my authority..."
"Nah! It's fine! Sometimes not trying too hard to be funny makes it funnier— you're exactly—"
"Enough. Shouldn't take advice from low-intellect types."
"There you go again. But yesterday's reaction was great!"
She flashed pearly whites in a grin.
"The kids won't find you so scary now!"
It actually happened.
From that day, other cadets hesitantly asked Alderson questions.
He listened.
Realizing their sticking points gave him a feel for teaching.
Alderson Marver finally learned to see from a cadet's view.
His brilliant mind grasped teaching's essence quickly, and soon his classes became the academy's most popular.
Cadets grew casual with him.
"Whoa. You like puppets, prof?"
"Yeah."
"Wow..."
"Kinda cool."
"My late mother collected them often. Probably her influence."
"Sorry."
Soon jokes flew with cadets, bonds formed with faculty.
His personality and speech softened naturally.
Most approved of the changed Alderson.
"Your sorrow's gone, Alderson."
Even the crimson grand mage, visiting one day, led with that.
This near-absolute mystic looked unchanged from last time.
As if time had skipped him, his wrinkle-free face remained youthful.
"Imperial decree."
"Speak."
"First, I bestow upon you the rank of grand mage. From today, the end-color traversing the firmament, seventh hue, symbol of beginning and end—purple—shall be your second name."
"I accept."
Alderson paused, then asked.
"'First' implies...?"
"Yes. There's a second."
The red-haired nobleman smiled faintly.
"Alderson Marver, they wish to appoint you seventh dean of Cartel Academy."
"That's..."
"Heard the previous dean and all professors unanimously approved. Unprecedented support. Natural after revolutionizing the academy for twenty years."
"......"
Twenty years.
Already twenty years gone.
Alderson felt the passage of time, absently touching his face.
Rough skin and beard stubble met his fingers.
The young mage's life had reached its downhill slope.
He welcomed it.
His brother's words to live long surfaced.
"...Very well."
Alderson met Red's eyes.
"I'll take the seventh deanship of the academy."
* * *
Change your view, the world changes.
The young mage who'd lost all family and despaired now saw everyone in his sight as family.
Nearly a century passed meaningfully thus.
'Hyungnim was right.'
A satisfying life.
One he'd walk again without hesitation if given the chance.
Alderson looked around.
He took in the academy tainted by blood and darkness.
'...All my shortcomings.'
This situation.
The crisis it brought.
His meridians wrecked, bound like a fool.
Unable to cast even one grand magic smoothly, needing Young's aid...
All because I fell short.
As academy dean, heir to that venerable Platinum King's will, I must protect all cadets.
Of course, I can't forever.
I know these immature, lovable children will enter society someday.
They'll face harsh winds. The empire's in unprecedented turmoil now.
'So...'
At least till graduation, let them enjoy safety and peace.
When life's storms weary them, trudging endless pain's mire, tempted to collapse...
Let today's memories comfort them.
That, truly, was the educator's duty at the academy.
One I must uphold.
'A duty worth staking my life for.'
Surge-.
Blood welled up.
The burden of grand magic on his ruined body racked him. Vision reddened, but Alderson ignored it.
Crackle!
Intangible energy from the black sphere repelled the grand magic.
The purple world began eroding into blood-red once more.
'...This is a Demon King.'
Terrifying pressure.
His aged flesh seemed ready to crumble, but Alderson gripped his staff tighter.
Miss this chance, and death.
That moment.
'That is...'
Far off, the princess wept.
Feeling guilt over the situation? Before her lay the Goodspring lady, seemingly unconscious, buried in rubble.
"Seren, Seren..."
Perist tried pushing the stones to save the fainted Seren.
Did that irk it?
Crackle!
An icicle-like fragment shot from the black sphere.
The puppet once held by the princess—Deathberry—seemed to have forgotten its former master.
Perist's eyes widened.
Splash!
Blood sprayed.
Perist looked up with trembling eyes.
"Wh-why..."
"......"
Hard to reply.
The fragment had pierced his abdomen precisely.
Mana flow circulating his body snapped, nearly dissipating the chanted grand magic.
In that state.
"...You'll be fine."
"......!"
He smiled wordlessly.
Wanted to reach out and pat her head, but his body wouldn't move easily.
Had to bluff with blood-choked voice.
"D-Dean..."
Tears welled in Perist's eyes.
"M-My fault. Sorry. Sorry..."
No.
Alderson smiled bitterly.
If falling for the Demon King's deception made one guilty, the educator who let it happen bore the greater sin.
He should have guided that child right. Instilled enough character to discern right from wrong.
So Perist was blameless.
"...Everyone errs. That's why academies exist. So children don't repeat our blunders."
Alderson still cherished all cadets as family.
Princess Perist was no exception.
"No one will harm you."
Smiling gently, Alderson eyed the Demon King again.
Bluish light flared in his eyes.
Thump, thump, thump...!
His heart pounded wildly. Precursors of rampage. His body warned: Stop the magic now. Or die.
He ignored it.
"...A price must be paid."
He murmured lowly.
Right after.
"Hear me! Harden-Ihar!"
Alderson's shout reverberated through space.
The momentarily shrunken purple tendrils surged forth anew.
"Your malice and deceit shall not invade the academy! This is a sanctuary of learning! The empire's future! The tree of knowledge, and—"
And, what else?
This place is.
Cartel Academy, to me, is.
'Ah...'
Alderson smiled.
"...my home."
Drip, drop... Meridians tore apart, amid excruciating pain, he smiled.
"Not a place for you, demon scum, to invade and defile...!"
Kekekegek!
A horrific laugh echoed everywhere.
Cracks spiderwebbing the jet-black sphere caused it. From another angle, like a scream.
"I am the grand mage of purple—!"
The mage's roar swept all directions. The manifested grand magic resonated, mustering its final vigor.
[......!]
Purple roots enveloped the sphere, eroded it, and finally—
Kwang-!
It shattered.
The Demon King's true body, lord of malice, the jet-black sphere.
The embodiment of evil that invaded the academy shattered at last.
* * *
A mana storm swept the land.
The grand mage's final trace.
Alderson's grand magic utterly destroyed the jet-black sphere, relentlessly erasing even scattered black fragments.
The widespread purple tendrils in the sky soon resembled gold cracks etched in glass.
Those cracks became the starting point of collapse.
Crack...
In an instant.
All gazes in the shadow world turned skyward.
And witnessed together.
Crash—!
The ominous shadow world overlapping reality, the evil realm that ensnared hundreds of cadets.
The blood-red sky shattered.
"Ah..."
Most cadets had mocked the dean's stubbornness.
Placing a purple dorm— not crimson—in the highest rank.
Prioritizing the end-color over the imperial family's sacred hue.
Old man's folly, a low-rank grand mage's pathetic pride—some professors and cadets whispered.
But now, seeing this sight, they understood. They got it.
Like blazing crimson sunset, the bluish purple was also a glow of dusk.
A precursor to sunset glow.
Kwang-!
The last blood-red fragment vanished into ecstatic purple light.
The ominous world soon dyed in warm crimson bearing gentle warmth.
The warm breeze carried peace and rest.
Dawn had come.