Chapter 325
Chapter 325
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 325
Chapter Title: Sepiro (11)
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As he vanished into the rift.
The dragons gathered at the Dragon God Temple couldn't help but agonize.
"...How are we supposed to destroy the Dragon God Temple?"
To rebuild it, they had to tear it down first—but who would dare lay a hand on the Dragon God Temple?
It was akin to a devotee smashing their holy site.
They might understand if their god himself razed it, but for the followers of the Dragon God, it was utterly unthinkable.
At that moment, every clan turned their gaze to the Primordial Dragons.
Bahamut spoke up.
"This is a task for the two clans newly appointed as close aides."
A change had occurred among the close aides.
The former mighty three clans had been replaced by the Clans of Despair and Sloth.
This meant the two clans could wield a portion of that authority in Sepiro's absence.
In other words...
"...As Bahamut says."
"The Clans of Despair and Sloth can just team up and smash the Dragon God Temple nicely."
"Ah, perfect."
The Clans of Radiance, Truth, and Eternity spoke in unison.
This was actually for the best.
Though they had become Sepiro's "closest clans," their first mission happened to be demolishing the existing Dragon God Temple.
Had the former clans been tasked with it, they never would have done it.
They wouldn't have even considered touching it.
But if the newly risen Clans of Despair and Sloth failed this mission, nothing would progress.
And if they failed, their standing among the dragons would only shrink further.
Even if they succeeded, it would be the same.
As clans that destroyed a holy site, they would face subtle condemnation.
A no-win situation, just as the saying goes.
That was when it happened.
Thud!
Shuraphim tapped Ataraxia on the shoulder.
"...Lord Sepiro said he would pass the leadership of the Clan of Despair to you, Ataraxia. I agreed."
"I... don't deserve such a position..."
Ataraxia panicked.
He had been exiled from his clan for following the Black Witch.
They had hushed up the rumors, but he was demoted to menial tasks for life.
Volunteering as the prison keeper stemmed from that very reason.
And now, suddenly, they were handing him leadership of the clan?
Not just the clan—he would become Sepiro's official "close aide."
"You earned his trust, while I did not. I've already proven myself unworthy of leadership."
Shuraphim said bitterly.
Yet there was an inexplicable sense of liberation.
Ataraxia realized the source of that liberation and scowled.
"So... you're telling me to destroy the Dragon God Temple?"
"I believe you'll handle it well with Darkan."
"Are you running away, Shuraphim?"
"Running? What are you talking about? This is a direct order from Lord Sepiro."
"Did he say to destroy the Dragon God Temple?"
"He didn't name the clan, but he did say to tear down the current temple and build a new one."
Good lord.
It felt like a bucket of ice water over his head.
The idea of demolishing and rebuilding the Dragon God Temple was so absurd he was at a loss for words.
This second clone... it was a brilliantly novel idea, just like the Sepiro Ataraxia knew.
But...
Once Ataraxia grasped the full situation, he bit his lip.
"You're passing the buck."
"That's probably why he appointed our clan and the Clan of Sloth as close aides. He must believe you can pull it off, which is why he made you leader."
"......"
The monumental task of destroying the Dragon God Temple.
Once word spread, an ironic situation arose: every clan and even Shuraphim welcomed Ataraxia.
As the one to tackle this impossible conundrum.
Of course, "solver" was just a euphemism—it was really a "scapegoat."
Ataraxia knew that all too well.
Precisely because he did.
'This is insane.'
It was enough to drive him mad and make him jump.
Since Sepiro had commanded it directly, he couldn't refuse the leadership.
"I trust you'll do well. Farewell."
Shuraphim fled.
He transformed into his true form and flew to his nest.
The Primordial Dragons, including Bahamut, dispersed as well.
Soon, only the Clans of Despair and Sloth remained around the Dragon God Temple.
"Darkan, what do you make of this mess?"
Darkan, leader of the Clan of Sloth, summed up the situation clearly.
"What is there to think? We're screwed."
"What if we don't smash it ourselves?"
"Hand it off to another clan? Are you nuts? If the Dragon God Temple's getting destroyed, it has to be us dragons."
"Then you do it."
"You know our clan has no power. We can barely fly these days."
"Then I should do it?"
"Lord Sepiro named you specifically, Ataraxia. You're the chosen one. Congrats. Well, I'm off—"
Ataraxia grabbed Darkan's shoulder as he tried to leave.
"I'm not dying alone, Darkan."
"...What kind of grim talk is that? Who's killing you? You'll do great. I support you. Right, guys?"
The dragons of the Clan of Sloth nodded frantically.
But Ataraxia thought differently.
"I'll break the framework—you retrieve the 'Dragon God Stone,' Darkan."
"...So you want us to die together?"
"It's one or the other. Die or live."
"If we don't produce results in the next Clan War, we'll die even if we survive, you fool."
It was obvious every clan would go all-out raising and selecting warriors for the "Clan War."
If the Clans of Despair and Sloth failed to field warriors or performed poorly...
They'd be branded destroyers of the temple and lose all trust among the dragons.
If they were going to smash it, they needed strong results in the Clan War too.
The Clan of Sloth was particularly disadvantaged here.
They weren't specialized for combat.
Ataraxia nodded gravely.
"We have to do both."
"...Feels good, huh?"
"Does it?"
"Lord Sepiro didn't forget your efforts. Even I was shocked. A rise like this is unprecedented."
Ataraxia, exiled from his clan, had become the protagonist overnight.
It wasn't just a promotion—it was a meteoric ascent.
'...I'll do my utmost.'
A wave of emotion surged through him.
Sepiro had even forgiven his mistake of following the Black Witch.
Where else could he find such benevolence?
Everyone misunderstood Sepiro.
They called him a cold-blooded god without blood or tears.
But his true nature was that of a gentle soul who cared only for the dragons.
"We can't disappoint him."
"...Damn it, fine. Let's die together."
Darkan clicked his tongue.
In truth, there had been no escape from the start.
Ataraxia spoke solemnly.
"Those who seek death shall live, and those who seek life shall die."
"What the hell are you babbling, you lunatic?"
Darkan chuckled at the nonsense.
Ataraxia shrugged and laughed too.
'Ataraxia... You've brightened up a lot compared to before.'
He had been despair incarnate.
Before he started scheming to reignite the Great War by trailing after the Black Witch, Ataraxia had never smiled like this.
It was all thanks to "him."
Darkan gazed at the rift and the great rift.
Whatever the outcome...
The "true Sepiro" would emerge from one of them, and depending on that...
'...We can only flow toward the truth he leads us to.'
Everything would change.
"Haaaaah...!"
Inside the great rift.
Sepiro exhaled deeply.
One of his arms was gone.
It had been devoured by that colossal outer god.
Yet he didn't lose his smile.
How long had it been?
Since a battle like this.
A clash so vivid, teetering on the brink of death!
And even more thrilling was the fact...
"Take this, Archmage!"
That the Archmage had met him head-on.
This embodiment of all errors.
He had seen through the intent to stand in the Dragon God Temple, impersonate Sepiro, and dominate the dragons.
He had even sensed him entering the "rift."
But that was all.
What Sepiro craved was a true showdown.
The great rift versus the rift.
Whoever dominated one first would win.
This enigma, this mystery, this pinnacle!
To claim victory, Sepiro poured all his spirit into this "clone" of himself.
Understanding the great rift, seeking a way to confront the outer god in this yin world.
But he concluded that conventional methods couldn't handle that monster.
The systems of magic, the paths of truth—all ignored.
"To block even 16th-tier magic. I acknowledge you. You're no ordinary foe."
Sepiro said, facing the outer god.
He had repelled the demon gods with 15th-tier magic.
The 16th-tier spell was a fusion of "divine beast" and "abyssal curse."
16th-tier was the highest this clone could wield.
Yet it only halted the outer god momentarily.
With existing magic systems, stalling was the limit.
Victory was impossible.
To land a proper blow, he needed 17th-tier... or higher.
In other words...
'The main body is necessary.'
He admitted it.
This clone had its limits.
But it was a problem he had to overcome.
Giving up meant defeat.
He needed another approach in this situation.
For example...
Sepiro eyed the "Lord's Spear."
He had pulled it from his heart, but this spear embodied death itself.
It was also a weapon that could slay outer gods.
'This spear won't work on that thing either.'
Not even the weapon of the Archduke of Great Sins, made for outer gods.
Yet the essence of an "outer god weapon" was forged from an outer god's core.
This spear was itself an outer god.
Infused with irrepressible errors of death.
Sepiro reached his conclusion and spoke.
"Then I shall become an outer god."
He opened his mouth wide.
Gulp!
And swallowed the Lord's Spear—imbued with death.
All this to slay that outer god and dominate the great rift.
And also...
'Archmage. Let's play for real.'
To properly engage the source of fatal errors.
Escaping old concepts and breaking limits was essential to win.
Sepiro resolved to shed all notions.
To defy truth itself.
Rumble rumble rumble!
In an instant, Sepiro's entire body swelled.
Soon, his form vanished, replaced by writhing masses of flesh.
All the magic comprising him began to run rampant.