The Gatekeeper's Betrayal
Once a holy knight, he had caught the eye of Melbahe, the god of knights, centuries ago with his profound faith and valor. In return, he was granted the title of the first gatekeeper of the heavens along with power befitting the role.
"Remember this well. Though I was forced to form a contract with you to aid the hero's crusade, following your orders goes against my true will, you insignificant wretch."
Having once been a holy knight, his personality was exceedingly arrogant, much like Orcan's in many ways. Yet his feelings toward me ran far deeper than Orcan's. While Orcan merely disliked me, this man outright loathed me.
Apparently, in the region where he had lived on the surface centuries ago, summoners had been objects of contempt. Even now, after ascending to the heavens and becoming a celestial gatekeeper, he remained shackled to those old prejudices. It was no wonder he had risen no higher than the lowest rank of gatekeeper.
"Yes, I am aware. However, the contract period has not yet ended. By the oath sworn before the hero of light, Rowell, you must fulfill my request."
At the mention of Rowell and the oath, he drew his sword without a word.
"Please deal with the mage unit attacking from outside."
[Lunatic Explosion!]
Another massive explosion erupted, flames engulfing the surroundings. The sixth barrier shattered, triggering the fifth, and Morotai faced the inferno head-on.
"It cannot be helped."
Yet even amid the raging flames, Morotai remained unscathed. Clicking his tongue in reluctance, he launched himself forward. Our contract was of a special nature, so I could not directly observe the situation through soul or consciousness synchronization as with others, but once he took action, there was no need for concern.
Regardless of his personality, he was among the highest-ranking summons I could call upon.
As expected, the flames rapidly weakened shortly after he charged out. When they finally vanished completely, the gruesome sight of mangled mage corpses came into view, with Morotai standing among them.
"You needed to borrow my power just to handle this much?"
I despised that arrogance. He was nothing more than a lowly firefly illuminating only himself, yet he acted as though he had become a god simply because he had received divine favor and become a celestial gatekeeper.
Especially when dealing with Rowell—he paid the hero the utmost respect while subtly treating himself as Rowell's equal. That was arrogance incarnate.
"Yes, thank you for your assistance."
Though I wanted nothing more than to terminate the contract immediately, he was the only divine beast-class summon I could call upon, so I had no choice.
"Since I have fulfilled your request, I shall return now."
"As you wish."
As I had mentioned, our contract was special. I could summon him only once per day, and issue only one command per day. Violating this would automatically break the contract the moment that final command was carried out.
Yet just as the mana connection weakened and his form began to fade, he spoke as if mocking me.
"With this, I need never look upon your pathetic face again."
"What do you mean...?"
I tried to question him, but his figure had already vanished. My confusion did not last long, however.
From behind the surrounding hills—unseen from my position but clearly visible to Morotai's eyes—figures began to rise in unison.
"Damn that Morotai bastard! I should have just thrown him into a fight with the Demon King and let him die back then!"
Shedding their brown cloaks that blended with the landscape, the figures revealed themselves—a large force numbering well over a hundred. Among them, roughly thirty wore robes and carried staves, unmistakably mages even in the darkness.
'Please deal with the mage unit attacking from outside.'
That command had been a mistake. Morotai had taken it literally, eliminating only the mages who were actively attacking before returning.
"A former holy knight, one who received divine grace and ascended to the heavens, resorting to such despicable tactics!"
But I could not summon him again. Doing so would violate the contract, and things would proceed exactly as he desired.
'With this, I need never look upon your pathetic face again.'
That had been his true meaning. Whether I died or attempted to resummon him, the contract would break either way.
"That pathetic faith of yours—I will shatter it without fail."
I inscribed new runes into the air. Though there was distance between us, they were steadily closing the encirclement. The mages showed no immediate signs of action, yet a strange unease crept over me.
"If they have numbers, then I have..."
This time, I intended to summon the demonic insects. They would have no trouble handling a force of this size. Just then, as if on cue, the mages raised their staves high.
The staves emitted a blue glow in unison, and the flow of mana abruptly twisted. The runes floating in the air around me scattered, and even the fifth barrier, already active, began to tremble precariously.
"Using a mana disruption spell like a barrier..."
A mana disruption spell. It unnaturally tangled the mana flow around the target, interfering with mana manipulation. Typically used to delay spell activation, it was now being employed by multiple mages to completely block mana flow within the area, functioning like a large-scale barrier.
In this state, not only new spells or summons but even the effects and duration of already-activated magic would be severely diminished. Naturally, that included my equipped barriers.
A surprise attack via large-scale cooperative magic, followed by a mana disruption barrier when the ambush failed. Moreover, the distance between the initial attacking mages and the hidden forces.
Eliminate the summoner before they can call forth a summon. If that fails, surround them to prevent escape and block further summoning.
It was an efficient strategy and deployment specifically designed to counter a summoner.
Against a mana disruption spell of this scale and a force of this size, escape would be impossible unless I were a high mage capable of teleportation who could also overcome the disruption.
'If it were Lord Medrup, he would not even need teleportation—he would simply laugh it off and chain-cast high-level spells.'
For me, even maintaining the equipped barriers was a struggle, let alone teleportation. The only silver lining was that the barriers already in place would not be dispelled.
"As expected of the Deceiver Summoner."
While I stood bewildered, a group of men stepped into the disruption spell's range. Their attire and weapons varied, but one thing was certain—they were not mana users, and they were top-tier assassins.
Each bore the mark of the High Assassin Guild: a crescent moon with both tips dyed red, lying sideways as if embedded in the ground.
"We anticipated the ambush might fail, but we did not expect you to summon a summon of that caliber."
"...I never thought you would deceive us even while dying. Or perhaps they were deceived as well?"
These were members of the High Assassin Guild. The ambush location provided by the knights, along with their scale and rank, far exceeded expectations, yet it was confirmed. That mark was used only by the highest-ranking assassins of the guild—those whose names and identities must never be revealed, a paradoxical emblem of their pride.
It was proof that they were true masters for whom even the contradiction between assassination and revealing oneself held no meaning.
"Hahaha, those fellows have no such convictions. They were merely bait, after all."
The red-haired man standing at the forefront of the group answered. Though there was supposedly no hierarchy among assassins, he appeared to be the one in charge of the operation.
"Has the guild policy changed, that even A-rank missions now use A-rank bait and ambush teams?"
"My, why bring up such ancient history now?"
I hated that smirking smile. Yes, they must think they had me completely cornered. A summoner who could not summon was nothing more than easy prey.
"Besides, if we are going to discard pawns anyway, why not discard ones we will not miss?"
Yes, I could now clearly see their intent. Whether the target noticed or not made no difference. If they did not notice, eliminate them along with the bait in one strike. If they did notice, it only served as false information, increasing the ambush's success rate. It was certainly an efficient plan that accounted for either outcome.
"Of course, to the Second-Best Strategist, it must seem like a woefully inadequate operation."
And to prepare for—or rather, to be certain of—failure, they had positioned mages and additional forces in a second line. Naturally, the mages in the first line would be annihilated without any support in the event of failure.
"No, not necessarily."
On the contrary, it was precisely the kind of plan I would have devised.
"My, my, I am so flattered by your praise that I hardly know what to do with myself."
What I felt from his smirking demeanor was not mere frustration or rejection, but a certain fear that transcended them. Contrary to his smiling face, his eyes revealed a kind of madness—a senseless, irrational frenzy that seemed ready to burn everything in sight without direction or purpose.
"...That was not praise."
I slipped my hand into my robe. Yet they were truly top-tier assassins. Their eyes reacted sharply to my every movement, and several immediately placed hands on their swords.
"Everyone, refrain from such crude actions. We must at least show basic courtesy to one of the saviors of the world, do we not?"
At the red-haired man's words, they withdrew their hands from their swords. So he was indeed the one in charge.
"Courtesy, is it? Your words are quite polite, considering you know it is meaningless because of my remaining barriers."
That was precisely why I had reached into my robe without hesitation. The red-haired man wiped away his playful smirk and replaced it with a cruel sneer.
"Well, that is true, but we still have things to discuss, do we not?"
"Indeed. So, where is he? I do not know how he came into such wealth, but he must have wanted to see this for himself."
In response to my question, the red-haired man stepped aside. There stood a stranger overlaid with the past of that day. The first proof of my sin. A vengeful soul steeped in hatred.
'Die! Just die already!'
"It has been a long time, Second-Best Strategist."
The past was overwritten by the present. The boy who had once hurled curses at me, consumed by hatred, had become a one-armed young man. Not only was one arm missing, but in just a few years, he had aged more than a decade. No trace of his former self remained—except for his eyes.
Those eyes, burning with hatred, had not changed at all.
"Yes. It has been a long time, Hyler."