Chapter 235
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 235
Chapter Title: Next Destination
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-Hm?
A strange aura emanated from the body of the mage he absolutely had to kill here.
Was he squeezing out some last desperate means to resist?
Scales began to sprout across the mage's body.
-Heh. Even the abilities of those extinct alchemists? And using them so naturally without losing his reason.
He had once coveted their techniques, but tracking down any traces of them had never been easy.
Yet this mage had found their remnants and stolen—even mastered—their arts.
It was truly astonishing.
But that was all.
The bastard dies here.
That was his decree, so it was inevitable reality.
Or so he thought.
-……!!
Some force blocked him.
No, more precisely, his body—the mass of spirit power formed from the God of Death's authority—had frozen up on its own.
-His power clearly hasn't reached that level yet. To manifest an image like this?
The darkness rippled.
A space like fog where not even an inch ahead was visible.
Something flashed within it.
No, was it really a flash?
Still, nothing was visible beyond.
A truly insidious, gloomy space.
Yet the presence of some entity was unmistakable.
Any ordinary person would be drawn in just by approaching, vanishing without a trace of body or soul.
His instincts screamed as much.
But it had no physical form.
He knew that the moment he saw it.
And that's precisely why it felt so threatening.
Because neither he nor the God of Death had fully manifested here.
-I sense the ferocity of a starving wolf... Such voracious, intense desire.
He had seen such beings on battlefields in the past.
Humans driven by all sorts of purposes.
Because they didn't want to lose comrades.
Simply because they didn't want to die.
To protect the treasure in their hands.
To keep their nation from being taken.
Occasionally, those with such eyes and auras would appear, and when their prowess reached a certain level, they had even halted the empire's advance.
-Truly threatening. But before death, all are equal.
Why was that starving wolf so menacing?
A very simple reason.
Hunger.
The desire to devour everything and make it his own.
But beneath it lay fear of death as well.
You can't block the God of Death if you fear death.
And since Pommel knew that, the God of Death understood his own power better than anyone.
"You call yourself death?"
Silver-gray eyes boldly challenged him.
Before the God of Death and the empire's hero who had forged its unification.
A mere human spoke those words.
"Don't talk nonsense. Death isn't that impatient."
Having fully grasped his own greed, Jun stared at the God of Death's black hand with fresh eyes.
"Death doesn't move on its own. It simply waits."
Sudden death might exist, but death that arbitrarily ends a life does not.
It merely strolls alongside life, leisurely like a companion.
"But you're overflowing with greed right now."
The desire to drag Eleanor away by any means burned clear.
For that to call itself the God of Death?
How unseemly.
"To me, you're just a brat throwing a tantrum."
Jun feared death.
He was certain he could never overcome that fear.
But this wasn't it.
That thing wasn't death.
It was merely 'something' born from death clumping together.
That conviction settled in.
――――――!!
See?
As if provoked by Jun's words, that black hand reached out toward him.
Death isn't that hasty.
It comes quietly and leaves quietly.
Hundreds, thousands of black hands connected, advancing this way.
"Captain...!!"
Yet Jun stepped out beyond the domain Eleanor had spread.
The black mist followed suit.
"For a so-called god, you sure got riled up."
Mere mist enough to envelop one person.
But that was plenty.
Soon, the black hand met the black mist.
――――――?!?!
The hand, baited by the provocation, was bitten by the wolf in the mist.
It was sucked in instantly.
The thousands of hands panicked and tried to retract, but it was too late.
A starving wolf had no intention of letting go once it bit down.
Something was wrong.
Sensing it, the black hand swelled in size.
If it wouldn't release him, it would grow larger and rip the jaws apart.
But even that failed.
The greed-saturated thing grew in tandem with what it devoured.
-Hm.
Even Pommel recoiled from the momentum.
Then he shook his head.
-A failure, then.
He realized the moment the hand of death touched that black mist.
This mission had failed.
The God of Death wouldn't reclaim his vessel.
And he himself couldn't take that girl from the Chojing tribe.
-But it's one step back for the three-step advance.
He could yield anything else.
But not that vessel.
The vessel housing the soul of the Reverse Heaven.
It would surely become a massive variable in the great undertaking.
-You, at least, I must take.
Retreating, he began gathering the dispersing energies of the God of Death from all directions.
The black mist, bloated from its feast, began to dissipate.
Thoroughly satisfied, it gradually faded away.
The wolf, never once revealing itself from the darkness, vanished with the mist.
"Hah...!"
Jun, having forcibly drawn power beyond his level, began paying the price.
"Ah..."
Strength drained from his entire body.
It wasn't mana exhaustion or damage to his mana circuits.
His very tier had taken a hit.
The cost of coveting power unfit for his station struck at Jun's existence itself.
And this, despite not even forming a proper mental barrier—merely projecting a partial illusion.
"Captain!!"
Eleanor rushed over, supporting him with hands infused with golden holy power.
A faint strength seeped into his body.
"Eleanor... this holy power."
"Haa... I never imagined it would have this effect."
Injuries that should have required months of rest began healing bit by bit.
Not enough to stand yet, but healing nonetheless.
Eleanor's holy power healed even the tier of the soul.
It was truly the source of life.
"Still feels like death warmed over..."
Despite his words, the slight leeway let him survey his surroundings.
The first thing he saw was the rift in the sky.
Unaligned energies were being forcibly sucked beyond.
The rift would close soon.
Next, the battlefield.
"This is bad."
Too many had collapsed unconscious.
Left in this weather, it wouldn't end with mere frostbite.
If he could at least cast [Hour Sun], but right now, twitching a finger was all he could manage.
"I'll handle it somehow... Captain, just rest—urk?!"
Eleanor, supporting Jun, clutched her bandages and turned.
A familiar yet alien aura emanated from it.
Something formed from the God of Death's lingering spirit power manifested right behind them.
A being in pitch-black uniform.
Clearly made of human flesh, it swung its arm—
Shuuuuwook—!!
Kwaaaang!!
Something plummeted from the sky, smashing the black-uniformed being headfirst into the ground.
"Who...?!"
Dust billowed like a meteor strike.
An overwhelming presence emanated from within.
Prismatic lights danced wildly in Eleanor's vision.
"Good thing I wasn't too late."
A figure emerged from the dust, something gripped in hand.
"Lady Lanes..."
Lanes.
Gripping Pommel's half-crushed head, Lanes stepped out of the dust.
The setting sun illuminated her and the airship visible in the distance.
The long calamity had finally reached its end.
The First Imperial Prince Dexter, bearer of the empire's legitimate bloodline, sat quietly reading the report.
His expression hardened as he finished—it couldn't have been graver.
Even from text alone, the severity hit hard, but the issue was how detached it felt from reality.
"......"
Activating the accompanying image orb, various scenes played out.
Innumerable invaders raining from the sky.
Beacon smokes rising everywhere.
Encampments filling the horizon.
Fierce battles ensuing.
Even the cold northern air seemed pushed back by the fervor.
Absorbing it all, Dexter rubbed his tired eyes.
"And at the center... the White Whale Mercenary Corps."
Once again, they stood at the epicenter, resolving the crisis.
Of course, they weren't alone.
Count Camillo, the North's hegemon now said to be weakened, had handled much well too.
Yet the White Whale Mercenary Corps featured in every phase.
"This expands the investigation team's range dramatically."
White Whale Mercenary Corps.
Their captain, the mage Jun, clearly avoided imperial entanglements, but his actions benefited the throne regardless.
"Might be for the best."
Not referring to the northern incident.
White Whale Mercenary Corps.
A pretext to summon them to the palace had arisen.
And this crisis would stir massive change in the already unstable palace politics.
"Shame I can't greet them personally."
He wanted to venture out grandly and welcome the heroes.
But now, impossible.
The First Imperial Prince—no, now the Crown Prince in name and fact—Dexter decided to await the heroes' arrival at the palace with joy.
An unfamiliar ceiling came into view.
Senses sharpening upon waking told him this was no ordinary place.
Mana's fragrance permeated everywhere.
Traces of highly advanced mages.
"Sunbae!"
Opening his eyes revealed a blond blue-eyed man: Aiden.
"Any discomfort?"
"Aiden...?"
Grabbing his throbbing head and trying to sit up, Aiden assisted from the side.
"What happened? Where are we?"
"Well..."
"Leader. It's been a fortnight since you collapsed."
Maya approached from near the door.
"Fortnight...? I've been out for two weeks?"
"Yes... We were so worried."
Aiden's relief was genuine.
"So, where are we?"
"Lady Lanes's Mage Tower airship. We departed today."
"Airship...?"
Waking to find himself on an airship—what was going on?
Befuddled, unable to follow.
"Hm. Awake, are you, Jun?"
Lanes entered through the door.
She cleared up his confusion.
"We're heading to the imperial palace now. At the emperor's summons."
A completely unexpected destination.