Chapter 51
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: Wild Hunt (4)
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“What are you staring at? Eyes down if you don’t want to die.”
A head tilted crookedly. Eyes frowned in dissatisfaction. And the corner of his mouth twisted viciously.
A reaction that truly seemed displeased at the opponent before him staring straight at him.
It was a Zahav-like attitude befitting Zahav, infamous for throwing tantrums anywhere if something didn’t sit right...
But who could have imagined saying such words in front of a massive bone dragon?
Not Morteus himself, nor the mid-to-low tier mages holding their breath as they watched Enoch. Not even the high-tier mages staking their lives to restrain Morteus.
Even Karen, who had observed Enoch longer than anyone else there, gaped in shock, wondering if she had misheard.
Morteus’s auricles shook with faint amusement as he replayed Enoch’s words.
-I’m already dead, with only bones left.
“Soon even those bones won’t remain, and you’ll vanish.”
-Hah. A spirited warrior. Excellent. Will you not join my army?
“......What?”
Enoch’s eyes widened wide, evidently not expecting a recruitment offer.
But Morteus continued in a voice laced with amusement.
-I mean it. Even shackled by this vile evil god’s bonds, I witnessed your struggle clearly with my own eyes. A battle as astonishing as your spirit.
“???”
-However, you chose the wrong side. I’m not lecturing on good gods versus evil gods in this era. For a warrior like you, a far more glorious battlefield awaits.
“What the hell does that......”
Enoch twisted his expression in utter confusion, but moments later, he let out a short sigh as if piecing something together.
Indeed. Morteus had regained his intellect. But that didn’t mean he was sane.
He acknowledged his undeath yet behaved as if it were irrelevant.
He prided himself on leading a glorious army, even as he defiled heroes of old.
Above all, he regarded the magic tool—crafted from a fragment of his own daughter Ignatus’s dragon heart—as the evil god’s power.
While most gods had lost their strength after the Night of Tragedy and were quietly recuperating in the northern pantheon...
Morteus still clung to the past.
Reflected in his blazing green auricles was a reality warped to his liking.
Enoch opened his mouth in a skeptical tone.
“......So what is this glorious battlefield?”
-Naturally, to slay the god of tragedy who has at last enveloped this continent in his veil. To put an end to this endless night.
“......”
Such unabashed confidence. He didn’t seem like the betrayer of kin who fled death, as the world knew him.
Hard to say.
Whether the current Morteus was deranged, or the widely accepted tales were distorted.
For now, there wasn’t enough to judge. But uncovering the truth wasn’t Enoch’s goal anyway.
Feigning contemplation, Enoch put on a troubled expression.
“Honestly, it’s tempting. Fulfill one condition, and I’ll gladly join your army.”
-Humans are ever fretful and greedy. Speak it. If it aligns with the grand cause, I swear on the Dragon Lord’s name to grant anything.
“Nothing big. I’m waiting for a friend. Just hold off until the morning sun rises.”
-A simple matter.
Still bound by the burning chains, Morteus nodded with solemn dignity.
It was the moment Enoch sighed in relief.
-Incorporating you into my army right now solves everything. No need to wait for sunrise then.
“......What?”
The instant Enoch sensed danger and braced himself.
Immense death aura began to swirl around Morteus.
Until now, it had merely leaked instinctively. Now, he wielded it by his own will.
Morteus gazed down at Enoch with eyes full of goodwill.
-Fear not. I shall place you at the vanguard. All glory will be yours.
“Bullshit.”
The moment Enoch spat the curse, the colossal death aura from the ancient dragon’s heart surged toward the small fissure where Enoch stood.
Faced with the death aura crashing like a tidal wave, I reflexively drew up my energy.
Roar.
Aura flames engulfed my entire body. Normally a reassuring sight, but against that volume, I honestly lacked confidence.
Of course, that assumed I fought alone.
Flash!
A crimson barrier manifested before me as I crossed my arms to block.
A spell I’d seen before. Useless against physical force, but peerless at repelling and neutralizing death aura.
No idea how many hours the battle had raged. Even I was wearing down—mages couldn’t possibly have mana left.
Their support spells were renewing less frequently, so I hadn’t expected much...
But the crimson barriers blocking my front weren’t a mere one or two.
Dozens layered thickly, confronting the death aura pouring fiercely through the gaps.
Kraka-kaka-kak!
The dark blue death energy, laced with chill, clashed against the warm crimson glow, producing a sinister roar. And then.
Clang! Chclang! Crash!
They held for a moment—then shattered in an instant.
The mages’ desperate resistance was far too feeble. They couldn’t even contain the aura from the restrained Morteus.
Yet the death aura that overcame those layers had weakened considerably.
By the time it reached me, it was down to a manageable level. They’d done their job.
“Ngh...!”
Ice-cold energy coiled around my body and clung tight.
It sought to worm its way inside, but thoroughly weakened, it failed to breach the aura flames.
......Instead, it seeped inward along the weapons embedded in my flesh.
A chilling warning crawled up my spine. My limbs felt deathly cold, emotions turning barren as if frozen solid.
A familiar sensation.
I’d felt it during the mad alchemist’s necromancy experiments—when I luckily escaped, hunted down his backers, and faced the assassin guild master.
The touch of death.
That frigid grasp seized my heart through the wounds. But.
“Hup!”
I repelled it with a sharp kiai.
-Mm...?
Morteus let out a puzzled groan.
Any ordinary person would have dropped dead already. But I was the exception. I’d been exposed to such energy before.
Not on par with black magic resistance, but I had some tolerance.
The initial overwhelming surge might have been too much, but the mages had weakened it enough to endure.
......Endure being the key word—my body wasn’t unscathed.
The brief breather from talking hadn’t helped much. Stamina depleted, muscles that once severed steel now trembled feebly. The mages’ support that had kept me going was gone.
They’d likely exhausted themselves with that last barrier.
Still shackled in burning chains yet unscathed after unleashing such aura—Morteus.
I’d thought his restored intellect meant we could talk, but apparently not.
His timeframe was stuck in the divine era, perceptions warped. He feigned listening, but nothing had changed.
A madman intent on slaying all in sight, raising them as undead for his army, binding the world under death’s banner.
No reasoning? Then fists it was.
I stared up at Morteus. The barriers had long crumbled under the earlier aura storm.
Nothing stood between us now.
“It’s dark.”
Even accounting for midnight, it was unnaturally so. Likely the cold death aura blanketing the area.
Morteus nodded at my mutter.
-Dark indeed. A pitch-black time, a dark age. ......But worry not. What shines in darkness is honor itself, is it not?
At Morteus’s will, the undead began to stir one by one.
Not trickling in singly like before—the entire horde, filling my vision, fixated solely on me.
Even in madness, it meant he desired me more than the people behind or Ignatus.
Hard to say if that was good or bad.
I brushed off the advancing undead with a wry chuckle, Morteus’s fond smile from above, and the belated clamor from behind.
Instead, I focused solely on myself.
What I needed now lay within, not without. Everything I’d built up thus far would suffice.
I trusted the spirit herbs swallowed to survive......no, my obsession with life.
Layered atop that: memories of battling the high black mage who invaded House Zahav and the monstrous instructor.
And what surfaced was a mad gambit even I deemed utterly reckless.
But in a mad situation, only the mad survive, don’t they?
Morteus muttered lowly at my rigid form amid the approaching undead.
-The sun won’t rise. Ever.
Like a reminder to himself—or urging my surrender.
In lieu of reply, I raised my middle finger high.
“Fuck that.”
Then folded the digit, clenching my fist tight.
“If the sun won’t rise...”
Squeezing every last drop of strength, I swung my fist hard. Toward my own heart.
“......I’ll burn this body and become the dawn myself.”
Boom!
The aura in my fist burrowed into my heart. To rouse the vast mana slumbering within.
Mana I’d learned to cultivate recently via aura arts—still unrefined.
I’d deliberately left it untouched, fearing it might tangle like before if disturbed.
Now, I lit that fuse.
Thump.
A heartbeat echoed in the silence.
Then, the one unscathed part of my body—the dormant mana—erupted into rampage.
A wildfire beyond control.
And with it, my reason shattered.