Chapter 310
Chapter 310
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 310
Chapter Title: The Wheel of Causality (2)
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‘What’s going on? Archangel Ikael and Guffin. Is there some connection between them? Or is it just a coincidence?’
It was definitely related to the reset. Once I get out of the royal castle, I'll have to look into it.
If the reset is real, it's highly likely that traces remain in the depths of others' minds as well. I'll kidnap and dissect anyone I can get my hands on.
By the time the inner castle gate came into view, he slowed his pace. Guards holding torches were patrolling the top of the wall.
Arius cautiously attempted a Flicker. He vanished with a crackle and reappeared thirty centimeters ahead. The time distortion was gone.
‘Did I lose him?’
Armin had spent a fair bit of time in the food pantry, so it would be difficult for him to pinpoint my exact location. The only way would be to expand his Spirit Zone and distort the entire radius.
Besides, considering how short his timeline was, there was a good chance I was already out of its reach.
“Still, something feels off.”
Arius carefully watched the guards' movements.
Realizing there was a two-minute gap in the patrol network, he waited for the right moment, then kicked off the ground and sprinted forward. One Flicker through the wall, and it would all be over.
‘Screw you. I'm so sick of Kazura.’
“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
Arius's sprint came to an abrupt halt.
The voice came from behind. To not even sense a presence meant this was someone of considerable skill.
‘Damn it!’
Arius turned with excruciating slowness. Any clumsy move, and his head would be lopped off.
Ritney Walker, the captain of Kazura's royal guard, stood there with his longsword hanging low, a feral grin on his face.
‘This is the worst-case scenario.’
Of all people, it had to be him.
Kazura may be weak in magic, but its swordsmanship is by no means lacking. Moreover, Walker was a swordsman who adhered most faithfully to the textbook strategy for fighting mages.
The best strategy for a swordsman against a mage is 'cut them down before they can cast a spell.' And Walker was the best in Kazura at executing it. Arius knew this because he had read it in the beginner's guide to court swordsmanship that Walker himself had written.
Walker rested the tip of his longsword on the ground and looked up at the night sky.
Even though Walker had looked away, Arius couldn't move. It was as if Walker's nerves had flown out and ensnared him like a lasso.
“Not exactly the time for a stroll. Even the taverns are closed on a night like this.”
“Haha! An urgent appointment came up. By the way, what brings the captain of the guard out here? On patrol?”
“Heh heh, come now, let's not play games.”
Walker's eyes glinted like those of a nocturnal beast.
“You're the grave robber, aren't you? Arius of the Seven Archmages.”
“I don't know what you're talking about. There's more than one person named Arius in the world.”
Walker wasn't part of Theraze's faction, nor Orkamp's. He was a man who worked solely for the prosperity of the kingdom.
He had been tracking Arius for a long time.
The title of Seven Archmages didn't matter. For Kazura, with its weak magic, it was likely an unavoidable choice. But he couldn't stand by and let someone disrupt the kingdom.
“You know what's scarier than a tyrannical king? A treacherous vassal. I'll give you a choice. Be captured quietly, or be split in two by my sword.”
“I knew things were going too smoothly.”
Dropping his pretense, Arius slowly lowered his hands.
If he didn't act like he was trying to escape, Walker wouldn't move either. It was wisdom gained from long experience.
The reason a mage equipped with teleportation couldn't escape a swordsman was due to the human time it took to activate the spell.
Once the magic was cast, a swordsman couldn't catch up to a mage. But when it came to phenomena occurring within the human realm, the senses of a Schema master far surpassed those of a mage.
How a swordsman could detect the exact moment a spell was being primed remained a mystery to mages. According to swordsmen, they could feel a change in one's disposition, so from a mage's perspective, they just had to take their word for it.
Arius watched Walker's every move. From Walker's point of view, it was no different from being stared at by an ordinary person, but since Arius was no low-level mage, he was able to gather some information. Walker's aura was like a volcano on the verge of eruption.
Arius sighed, his expression one of dejection.
“Haaah. How annoying.”
*CRASH!* A longsword slammed into the spot where Arius had been standing. Walker appeared, holding the finishing pose of a vertical slash, as if he had arrived after his sword.
“Son of a bitch...!”
Arius was gone. He had been half a beat too late.
No, he couldn't even be sure of that. The timing had been perfect.
The speed of perception, the speed of sensation, the speed of nerves, the speed of action. Everything had transcended his opponent's. He could say with certainty that Arius hadn't even seen him move. There was likely a gap in their perception of time, like that between a human and a mosquito.
‘So how did he escape?’
First, it wasn't a movement-type spell. Nor was it Flicker. The only way to describe it was that he had simply vanished.
The invisibility spell, Invisibility? Even so, it made no sense for the casting speed to be that fast.
But for now, it was a possibility he couldn't ignore, so Walker scanned his surroundings.
“Captain! What happened?”
The guards came running, having heard the sound of the air being torn.
“We're looking for Arius, starting now. Reinforce the inner castle perimeter and assemble all standby troops.”
“Ah, Arius? Isn't he His Highness's technical advisor?”
“He's charged with sedition. The longer we wait, the harder it gets, so move quickly.”
The guards dispersed in perfect order.
Walker watched his men's movements for a moment before heading into the forest. If he had cast an invisibility spell, there would be traces of it somewhere.
In the spot everyone had left, a Flicker spell was cast. A man appeared like a ghost. It was Armin.
“Apoptosis. A rational decision.”
Apoptosis was known as the most difficult of the micro-scale spatial magics. And for good reason, as it was a spell that involved diving into one's own mind.
When the body entered the mind, the boundary between thought and reality collapsed, and one became a conceptual being. Devoid of emotion, unable even to think. The chance of Arius returning on his own was extremely slim.
‘Better than dying, I suppose.’
It was certainly better than dying.
Every mage has an ace up their sleeve.
Indeed, Walker's reaction had been flawless. But Apoptosis was a feedback of the Spirit Zone, so its casting time was practically nonexistent compared to other spells.
The reason Armin had released the time distortion was to prepare for the possibility of Arius being captured by Walker. His death wouldn't matter, but if he were captured and started spouting off about this and that, things would get complicated.
‘I won't have to worry about him for a while.’
He wouldn't have attempted Apoptosis without some way to return. He must have made a pact with someone or prepared some kind of device for a situation like this.
A year, or perhaps ten. He might not return for a hundred years. But it was certain that one day, he would.
‘An accomplice is the more likely scenario. I'll have to start my investigation there.’
The most likely candidates were the Seven Archmages.
Armin frowned as he recalled the members. They were a group of lunatics so deranged that Arius seemed tame by comparison.
‘Time to get going.’
Armin glanced back at the royal castle.
He wanted to stay by Shirone's side a little longer, but there was no more time to delay. He had to get back to Keira as soon as possible.
He cast Flicker, and his form vanished with a crackle. Walker's distant shouts echoed across the clearing.
* * *
Zenoger was running through an underground emergency escape route.
A trap activated every ten steps. Traps where the floor opened up, traps that shot arrows, traps where a log studded with nails swung like a pendulum.
Zenoger navigated the traps without slowing down. He leaped over opening floors, and the nail-studded log was caught mid-swing in a web of spider silk shot from his mouth.
“Hah! Hah!”
Leaning his back against a corner in the underground labyrinth, he took a short rest. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling.
He couldn't kill Zion. That's why he had fled. Theraze would not let an assassin who failed his mission live.
He could accept his own death, but the Spartur clan, which relied entirely on Theraze's support, would also be wiped out.
‘I have to escape. And find a new power to serve.’
His clan had practiced assassination for a thousand years. They might not have satisfied Theraze, but there were plenty of other powers who would need them.
Zenoger recovered just enough of his stamina and started running through the labyrinth again.
The floor swung open downward like a trapdoor. With his spider-like senses, he leaped just before falling, attached a web to the ceiling, and swung in a parabolic arc. At the same time, a dagger flew toward his face.
“Kugh!”
He twisted his body mid-swing to dodge the dagger.
Though it was an object meant to be thrown by hand, the dagger flew as fast as an arrow and embedded itself in the wall.
Landing on the floor, Zenoger immediately took a defensive stance. His chest swelled as four arms burst out, and six eyes opened on his left and right temples.
“Who's there? Show yourself.”
A woman with a petite frame turned the corner from the shadows.
She had a short, black bob with straight-cut bangs. Her eyes were closed, her face in a slight frown, and she wore a straight, narrow-hemmed dress, unusual for an assassin. It looked less like clothing and more like wrapping paper for a person.
Her hands were held demurely together, gripping the sheath and hilt of a dagger, its blade half-drawn.
“A hitman? Who sent you?”
“There is nothing to say to one who is about to leave this world.”
Her voice was so clear it could clear one's mind just by listening.
But it couldn't fool Zenoger's ears. It was a voice altered through immense training.
“Heh heh, well... that's the life we lead.”
The moment Zenoger finished speaking, the dagger flew.
Leaping to the ceiling, Zenoger sprayed spiderwebs in all directions. After thus making the environment his own, he swung a finger-thick strand of silk like a whip.
The woman's form seemed to multiply for a moment, then she zipped behind him in an instant, as if moving on rails.
‘A unique footwork.’
That narrow, straight skirt was, by all accounts, unsuitable for combat. Even if she spread her legs as wide as possible, her stride would be only half that of a normal person. The strange sandals she wore between her toes were also bothersome.
But her walking speed was unbelievably fast. Moreover, her acceleration intervals were incredibly dense, creating a bizarre movement that made it seem like he was chasing an afterimage.
She seemed to move slowly at first, but short distances were covered in explosive bursts, bringing her right in front of him before he knew it. Truly tricky. It wasn't a normal acceleration, so he couldn't time it correctly.
‘Her sense of rhythm is completely different.’
This must be her specialty.
If he had to classify her, she'd be in the circus category. A general term for hitmen who use their athletic abilities to deceive their opponents.
A flicker of curiosity about who she might be crossed his mind, but it was just a fleeting thought. For an active assassin, having their name known was as good as being finished.
Zenoger created a curtain of spiderwebs to block her approach. Once he got used to her rhythm, he began to predict her movements.
From that point on, the tide of battle turned.
Zenoger leaped between the walls like a spider, closing in on the woman.
Daggers flew at him with an off-beat rhythm, but he was no longer fazed. He caught the last dagger in his mouth, twisting his neck.
“Kukuku! Not bad for a circus act.”
Zenoger dove into the woman's guard and raised his upper arms with their joints bent backward. With hands coming over his shoulders, he grabbed her face and slammed the back of her head into the wall.
Following the *thud*, a crack appeared on the woman's face with a splitting sound. Shards of porcelain-like skin fell to the floor.
Zenoger moved his three left hands quickly. One hand choked her neck while the one below it reached under her skirt. There were no genitals.
His middle hand grabbed her breast and tore at it. The silk fabric ripped away, revealing the feel of a soft cushion similar to body fat.
Her exposed chest was flat, and below it, her gaunt ribs were visible.