Chapter 89
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: The Bait
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Maltiel’s skin and wings, slicing through the air at hundreds of kilometers per hour, burned red from the frictional heat.
The moment Bel’s barrier over Vellaland dissipated, the pitch-black monster had spread its wings and flown east with all its might, never looking back. In an instant, the creature left the dark, murky lands of Vellaland behind.
The black earth of Vellaland was no longer visible; he was now flying over a serene, nameless mountain range.
Even though he was hundreds of kilometers away from the battlefield, Maltiel did not let his guard down.
His opponent was the Sword Saint.
He couldn't tie down the Sword Saint by having his Mutants attack the wounded soldiers as he had done before. Grisha was with the wounded, and if a cleric of her caliber decided to put up a defensive barrier, his underlings wouldn't be able to break through.
Raguel probably hadn't even lasted a full minute against the Sword Saint.
The pursuit must have already begun, and one of them—either he or Mikael—would die by the Sword Saint's hand.
‘It doesn’t matter which one of us survives.’
In Maltiel’s judgment, Mikael was a highly competent Overlord. He held hundreds of high-ranking mages hostage, forcing them to study magic daily, and through them, he was uncovering the weaknesses of countless spells.
While his military knowledge and ability to handle unexpected situations were inferior to his own, given forty or fifty years to accumulate experience, even that shortcoming would…
“Aaaaaah!”
“Aaaah…”
*Whoosh!*
As Maltiel soared with his wings spread wide, a massive, unidentified golden sphere streaked past the corner of his vision.
…accompanied by inexplicable screams, no less.
“…?”
Maltiel was so bewildered that he couldn't help but stop flapping his wings. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened.
Was it the Sword Saint? No, if the Sword Saint had chosen him, his head would have been separated from his body before he even had time to think.
It wasn't the Sword Saint. Then what was that golden sphere…
“One point. Lack. Union and compression.”
A faint spark erupted from below, piercing through the dense canopy of trees.
A chill traced its way up Maltiel’s neck, carried on the air. The Overlord’s sharp survival instinct screamed at him to move, now.
Obeying his instinct, Maltiel spread his wings without delay and accelerated straight ahead.
“Bolt.”
The next moment, a pure white flash erupted from between the dense trees.
An electrical discharge of hundreds of millions of volts shot through the air, piercing the exact spot where Maltiel had been.
The surrounding air began to ionize. The immense energy of the electrical blast transferred an incredible amount of heat to the air around it. An updraft soon formed, and along with it, the ionized air shot high into the sky.
Maltiel looked down in the direction from which the pillar of light had risen. Trees were burning, and the evaporated moisture had created a faint mist that enveloped the area.
Through the blazing flames, a white-haired old man appeared. He wore a robe covered in mud and held a large staff in both hands—the very picture of a mage.
‘…Quite a skilled one, even among 8th-circle mages. Magic power surges from his body as if to overflow, and his eyes are so cold and frigid that the word “calm” doesn’t do them justice. But…’
Maltiel offered a faint smile to the mage below him.
“It seems the Sword Saint chose Mikael after all.”
The next instant, Maltiel vanished from the sky.
A belated gust of wind twisted the rising updraft, and soon after, the ground where the white-haired mage stood shook with a massive impact.
As the surrounding trees were torn up by their roots, some of them slammed back down onto the leaf-strewn ground.
The fallen trees began to roll down the mountain path. The impact sent fallen leaves soaring into the air, where they collided with other burning trees and were quickly reduced to ash.
A single step from Maltiel had shaken the entire mountain.
‘…Quite reckless.’
The white-haired mage, Alter Haindel, thought as he turned his head toward the Overlord who had landed right beside him.
Normally, Maltiel would not have charged so aggressively at a mage whose identity he hadn't fully grasped. He would have analyzed his opponent's magic, identified weaknesses, and then formulated a strategy to slowly tighten the noose.
But the situation now was very different from usual.
He had no idea when the Sword Saint, who had flown off toward Mikael, would finish off his comrade and arrive here.
Even if it meant taking a slight risk, now was the time to quickly eliminate the mage who stood in his way and flee immediately.
‘There are no troops guarding the mage. Have they not formed up yet? If I’m going to settle this, the sooner the better.’
A black light gathered in Maltiel's clenched fist. It wrapped around his hand like a gauntlet, and that black light began to absorb the light pouring from the flames and the sun.
Alter Haindel felt a chilling sensation, as if a blade were pressed against his throat for the first time in a long while.
The black light coalesced in Maltiel’s grip, devouring everything it touched as it lunged for Alter’s head.
In that moment, less than a second before the head of the lightning magic giant was to be shattered…
*Bwoooooo!*
The unexpected sound of a horn filled the forest.
***
There was no time for a plan.
We didn't have even the slightest leeway to formulate a strategy.
No matter how experienced and skilled the soldiers were, none of them could have had any experience flying through the air in a giant golden sphere at a speed far exceeding 300 kilometers per hour.
Most of the soldiers, tumbling dozens of times in the air, could do little more than hug their weapons to keep others from getting hurt.
No one was thinking about what to do when they met Maltiel.
Except for one person.
“Everyone, up!”
The golden sphere that carried us had crashed into the mountainside. The ground beneath my feet was a mess of broken branches and crumbled leaves, and my robe was caked with dirt.
My stomach felt like it was turning inside out. I kept gagging, and I was out of breath.
“We must tie Maltiel’s feet.”
Alter Haindel used his massive staff, as big as his own body, to support himself as he descended the slope. While most soldiers were still reeling from the chaos they had never experienced before, the old man, over eighty years of age, was the first to rise.
Watching Alter make his way down the mountain path, I felt a sense of awe. How could he be so vigorous at his age?
“Your command.”
Alter looked at me as he walked down the path.
Our eyes met, and I couldn't believe his gaze belonged to a man over eighty.
Intense, cold, and brimming with power, his stare made one’s heart pound for reasons unknown.
“I will be the bait. Use me as you see fit.”
That was all he said.
“…What? Sir?”
“One point. Lack. Union and compression.”
Alter took his position on a fallen tree and raised his staff.
Magical energy gathered at the tip of the large staff, soon transforming into brilliant lightning.
“General, your orders.”
Rex grabbed my arm, pulling me up from where I had collapsed on the ground.
Seeing the lightning gather on the massive staff jolted my stalled thoughts back into motion.
“Bolt.”
Burning leaves fluttered around Alter. Then, once again, a spark shot into the sky from his staff.
The moment he grasped the situation, lightning erupted from the tip of Alter's staff. The soldiers, realizing their duty, belatedly rushed down the mountain path to protect the mage.
In that instant, Alter’s words flashed through my mind.
“I will be the bait. Use me as you see fit.”
“Halt!”
Alter had clearly communicated his intentions to me.
“All troops, behind the trees! Lure the Overlord down!”
There was no time to think deeply. The staff had already unleashed its lightning, and the Overlord would soon come for Alter’s throat.
“…!”
The soldiers who had been rushing down the slope to protect the mage immediately stopped at my command and hid themselves in the shadows.
The stage was already set.
Right now, the best course of action was to play along with the old man’s lead.
“Rex, the artifact!”
I couldn’t understand how Alter could move so boldly. If I had been even a second slower in coming to my senses, his life would have been forfeit. It felt less bold and more reckless.
A youthful impetuousness.
Yes, it felt a bit wrong to say about a man over eighty, but Alter’s actions were overflowing with it.
His fiery gaze, as if he feared nothing in the world, once again flashed before my eyes. It was a look I couldn't believe belonged to an old man in his twilight years who had already achieved undeniable, outstanding feats.
‘From here on out, it’s an improvisation.’
Alter was on the drums. He had announced the start of the music with a brisk cymbal crash and set the foundational ‘beat’.
Whatever sounds I layered on top of the rhythm he created was now entirely up to me. No matter what anyone said, I was the general, the conductor of this battlefield.
“Everyone, on the sound of the horn, we attack all at once! Our opponent is an Overlord, do not miss your chance!”
I had no idea what kind of music would be born from this.
It could just become an unpleasant cacophony of noise, or it could turn into brilliant jazz.
One thing was certain: I couldn't hesitate.
If I harbored any anxiety or fear, I would miss the opportunity. The light stays in one place for only a moment, and we have to catch it.
There was no time to doubt whether I truly had what it took to be a general, to lead these soldiers.
Right now, any choice other than moving my hands to the beat of the drums was the wrong answer.
*Thud!*
An immense impact shook the ground beneath my feet. Uprooted trees from above came tumbling down, crashing into other trees.
Burning leaves scattered in every direction, and the black light flowing from Maltiel’s hand moved toward Alter’s head.
“You’re in the way.”
Just as the black fist was about to erase the old giant’s head…
*Bwooooooooo!*
The horn let out a piercing cry.