Chapter 67
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 67
Swallow walked through the center of the massive army, under the scrutiny of countless gazes.
His expression was unchanged, his face as weary as ever. The only difference was his icy gaze, which remained fixed on a single point.
Of course, the undead didn't just stand by and watch the uninvited guest intrude.
The moment Swallow stepped into their domain, dozens of them noticed him and lunged at once.
Screaming horribly, the swarming undead were torn to shreds in an instant, unable to even register Swallow's slightest movements.
Twice, then thrice.
As the cycle repeated and the number of undead rushing him reached the triple digits, a flicker of irritation finally crossed Swallow's face.
Only then did the Revenant commanding the left wing raise its hand. The Dullahan commanding the right wing slammed its sword into the ground.
A ripple of power spread from the blade. Every undead within its range immediately fell back into formation.
A path opened.
They all took several steps back from Swallow, instantly clearing a way forward.
Swallow continued walking with a faint, cryptic smile. When he finally stopped, the horde of undead closed in behind him, filling the path he had just trodden. Unbothered, Swallow raised his head.
At the highest point stood the Undead King.
Rising from his throne, Erebos extended a hand. A walkway of rotting corpses formed in the air, following the path of his gesture.
Only after Erebos had descended the staircase of bodies and stood before him did Swallow toss the thing in his hand toward him.
"A gift."
With a dull thud, a defiled corpse landed on the corrupted ground.
The body of Simon, known as the Darkness of the Ten Calamities and one of the strongest among them, was so horribly mangled it was almost unrecognizable.
"..."
In the silence, Erebos's gaze fell upon the "gift."
—His soul had been completely annihilated.
A Lich normally stores a portion of their life force in a Life Force Vessel. Even if their physical body is destroyed, they can find a new one as long as their life force remains.
But the connection between Simon Magus's body and his Life Force Vessel had been completely severed.
"I'm sure you have a lot to say," Swallow spoke first, before Erebos could even process his doubts. "You'd better watch your words."
The moment he finished speaking, a chilling aura filled the air. It radiated not from Erebos, but from Swallow.
His eyes had already turned pitch-black, and within them, sharp golden pupils gleamed with unmistakable hostility.
Erebos did not hesitate to speak.
"Ancient Monster, do you truly think it's right for so many races to be persecuted by humans?"
"..."
"Humans are vulgar, arrogant, and selfish. Even after achieving more than enough security for themselves, they have endlessly invaded other races."
Over the past few decades, how many races had vanished from history under the guise of dungeon subjugation?
"Cut the long speech and get to the point."
"Humans deserve to perish."
Despite his low tone, Erebos's voice resonated loudly enough for every undead below the hill to hear.
"And you had the power to destroy the Empire."
The Iron Fortress, a veritable paradise for humans.
A place home to massive subjugation squads powerful enough to challenge the Great Evil Caves, and a 'Hero' whose strength rivaled an entire subjugation squad.
There was no dispute that Riaze was the most formidable sanctuary humanity had ever built. Until now, no monster had ever breached its layered walls to reach the city's heart.
They had believed Riaze could never fall, and that as long as it stood, the Empire could never be conquered.
That was, until the 'Black Disaster' appeared without warning and utterly devastated Riaze right before their eyes.
"When word spread that the Black Disaster had descended upon Riaze, every persecuted monster rose up in solidarity. If you had uttered a single sentence—'I will destroy humanity'—every monster would have gladly laid down their lives for you."
"Your speech is dragging on. I have no idea what you're trying to say."
Erebos spoke to Swallow, who was yawning widely in front of him.
"Now is the perfect time to bring down the Empire."
Contrary to the expectations of all monsters, Swallow had vanished without a word. With no other choice, the monsters were forced back into their dungeons to survive.
"Humanity is slowly regaining its momentum. Countless dungeons will fall again, and monsters will be slaughtered. Ancient Monster, what do you think of this?"
"Well, if you say so, I guess that's how it is."
"Open your eyes, clouded by delusion and attachment, and face reality. If you had not stood idly by, countless monsters would not have had to die. We could have wiped out those vulgar humans."
Erebos's slender finger pointed at Swallow. Finding the gesture rather unpleasant, Swallow's expression stiffened.
"Since you refuse to act, I am merely taking your place. If you do not wish to intervene, then do not stand in my way."
"Ah, I get the gist of it. Your speech was so long it got predictable, but I think I understand."
Swallow, who had listened in silence for a long time, finally replied. He decided there was no point in listening any further.
"So, to sum it up, you're doing all this because you think I didn't do my job properly."
No answer came. It wasn't because Erebos had nothing to say. He, too, had realized that any further conversation would be meaningless.
"Yeah, rejected."
"...How regrettable."
The air suddenly grew heavy.
Instantly, a massive amount of mana surged around Swallow.
Though Erebos held no staff, countless magic circles materialized around Swallow—spells that had been layered and prepared long before his arrival.
An overwhelming torrent of magic, enough to disorient the senses, poured down upon Swallow. Yet, even amidst the storm closing in from all directions, he remained completely relaxed.
It was all meaningless.
Against an Ancient Monster capable of destroying a divine-realm barrier, any other magic was useless.
And Erebos knew this.
It was all a distraction, a means to buy time.
"Manifest."
Above Swallow's head, a massive magic circle spanning dozens of meters took shape.
A colossal torrent of darkness poured down from it. Accompanied by intense heat, even the undead rushing toward Swallow melted away in the black warmth.
And from that magic circle, the 'Rotting Vein'—the other boss of 'Where Corpses Die'—revealed its massive form.
At the same time, Swallow unfastened Demeura from his wrist.
Phase. 9
Smoke billowed endlessly into the blue-black sky where the barrier had once been.
Kalpagni’s Flower.
As Melju finished her casting, red flower buds bloomed near the hearts of the undead. Buds the size of thumbs blossomed from within their rotting bodies.
Soon, every fully bloomed petal turned to fire, incinerating the undead. Screams that sounded like they could scrape away what was left of their tattered souls echoed from all around.
"With them scattered like this, I have no choice but to move around. How troublesome."
Only after confirming that the very last one had turned to ash did Melju lower her staff.
The hordes of undead that roamed together were mostly cleared out. Only a few stragglers remained.
Though she had expected it, repeatedly casting spells was exhausting, even if most were low-tier.
She needed to rest for a bit.
Choosing a relatively clean spot to sit, Melju turned her gaze toward the sky beyond the territory.
The red barrier that had covered the sky had vanished without a trace.
It had happened less than three minutes after Swallow walked toward it.
It was clearly a divine-realm spell.
She had worried because it was a spell that defied common sense, but perhaps it had been a completely useless worry. It seemed transcending common sense wasn't limited to just the barrier.
...Then again, with Lord Swallow putting in such effort, I can't just sit here and rest.
Although the remaining undead were few, they were scattered all over.
There was no telling what might happen during even a brief rest.
"I only came to see Lord Swallow's face. I have no idea how things ended up like this," Melju muttered to herself as she stood up.
Before leaving, there was one thing she had to take care of.
"...Mage."
Right on cue, a voice came from beneath her feet. To be precise, it came from a human sprawled among the ashes.
A man barely gasping for breath—the captain of the back-alley fighters.
"Are the others... safe?"
"If you mean your comrades, they are all dead."
A cold reply met his question. Accepting the stark truth in her flat tone, the captain silently hung his head.
Melju's task was only to rescue the thousands of surviving civilians, not the fighters who'd battled the undead.
By the time she arrived, they had all been slaughtered—which was exactly what she had expected.
"Are you... an ally of the knights?"
"Absurd. I'm merely a dependent. I could never compare to their greatness."
The captain asked, but Melju didn't even spare him a glance as she answered.
"...I see."
His reply was a pained groan, the words barely escaping.
Even so, upon hearing Melju's answer, a look of relief washed over the captain's face.
Since she knew of the knights, she must be the reinforcements they sent. That meant Rosalina had successfully reached the castle and delivered the news.
At least the worst had been avoided. At the very least, Toth's death had not been in vain, and Hastin could now be saved.
"...I will soon become an undead as well."
"I know."
The captain continued, but Melju merely caressed her staff, still showing no interest.
By the time Melju had appeared and incinerated everything, it was already too late. The captain, who had chosen to fight, had been bitten by the undead and had quickly carved away the bitten flesh to survive.
He had managed to delay the infection, but he could not stop it completely.
The reason Melju was waiting was to finish him off once he turned.
His consciousness was fading. He couldn't tell if it was from blood loss or if his mind was being corrupted as he turned. Only one thing was certain: he didn't have much time left.
"I have one last request."
At his resolute voice, Melju finally turned her gaze toward him. It was only then that he realized the eyes of this mage, whose power rivaled that of a Sage, were not human.
Ah.
It didn't matter anymore.
"Could you... bring me my spear?"
There was no verbal reply, but soon, the clatter of metal rang in the captain's ears, jolting his senses. The spear, which had been too far for him to reach, was now placed right in front of him.
"You are a warrior."
This time, the captain responded with action instead of words.
Having no further reason to remain, Melju moved on. Just before casting her flight magic, she raised her head and looked outside the castle, sensing a highly ominous aura.
*
Once he removed his bracelet, Swallow's body expanded.
The dark, alien substance condensed within his human shell burst forth. Imperceptible to ordinary beings, the black mass swirled into a single torrent. The torrent devoured everything it touched, shaping itself into a colossal figure.
The shape of a massive four-legged beast.
While he was reconstructing his original form, every undead within the radius of the swirling darkness was swept into the current. Everything it touched vanished without a trace.
The moment Swallow assumed his true form, he collided with the Rotting Vein.
A massive shockwave erupted from the impact. Naturally, it was the Rotting Vein that was sent flying.
Although the Rotting Vein that had emerged from the giant magic circle was by no means small, Swallow's true form was far larger. The colossal monster, spanning dozens of meters, overwhelmed every living creature on the hill by its sheer presence alone.
Crash!
Unable to withstand a single blow, the Rotting Vein was slammed into the ground. The earth was gouged deep where it was thrown, and the point of impact erupted with shockwaves, unable to absorb the force.
Yet, as if incapable of feeling pain, the Rotting Vein immediately rose from the crater and roared.
It was a scream.
If Swallow was not mistaken, it was a cacophony of different creatures' cries.
The four giant eyes of the Ancient Monster looked down at the Rotting Vein. The creature, whose hideous form could only be described as a 'lump of filth,' had no discernible facial features. Its eyes and nose were so twisted it seemed to have no proper field of vision. Between the teeth jutting out at all angles from its maw lay a pile of countless bones, like a miniature graveyard.