Chapter 123
Translator: penny
Chapter: 123
Chapter Title: Savage Realm: Priella Atria (5)
Huff, huff—.
The middle-aged mage's gaze, racing down a snow-covered street, turned toward the corner of an alley.
Lead Combat Mage, Crayton Lukbart.
The battle mage of the Magic Weapon Corps was pursuing his comrade ahead with slow footsteps.
Like most of his kind, mages, Crayton wasn't particularly fit.
The silver lining, if any, was that he was relatively hale for his age.
Crayton's legs, heaving ragged breaths, chased after the vanished mercenary's footprints.
"As expected... he's fast, being a sword-for-hire...!"
Had the barbarians appeared anywhere but inside the city, he would have pinned them down even if it meant turning the surroundings upside down.
But this was the heart of a city inhabited by border nobles.
Moreover, this time he had a reliable comrade with him.
These were mercenaries from the Eight Swords Guild, not the sort you could hire even with a fortune.
With Priella Atria along, Crayton felt confident his comrade ahead would handle things well.
"Gaaahhh—!"
"......"
True to that trust, a clear scream echoed sharply from beyond the corner.
It seemed Priella had engaged the barbarians.
Whoosh—.
Crayton, breathless with excitement, gripped his staff and rounded the corner where the scream had come from.
Soon enough, a bloody scene unfolded in Crayton's view as he turned the corner.
"This situation..."
A massive barbarian warrior collapsed on the ground.
An old woman, one shoulder collapsed inward, wheezing as she watched over the barbarian warrior.
Priella stood boldly before the two, wrapped in a black muffler.
"Ahem... Looks like I arrived too late."
"...Crayton."
Priella's gaze, sword in hand, turned to Crayton.
She had taken down one enemy even before Crayton arrived.
Ahem, ahem—.
Feeling awkward, Crayton cleared his throat and spoke.
"These must be the ones who snuck into the city."
"Yeah. Seems like it."
"You can tell at a glance they're savage-looking brutes, plotting in the middle of the city, of all places."
Crayton alternated glances between the fallen warrior and the old woman, voicing his thoughts on them.
It was truly ridiculous.
These distinctive figures had evaded the Magic Weapon Corps' mages for days.
"They've dodged the corps' mages admirably until now."
"......"
"Honestly, I'm dying to know how they've hidden this long."
Swoosh—.
Crayton tilted his staff, bound with the grimoire, and looked at the old woman slumped against the wall, gasping for breath.
"Let's hear your story, then."
Crayton knew a fair bit about barbarian shamans.
Primitive mystics from the north who wielded mysteries beyond magical explanation.
Yet their powers were crude and inferior compared to true magic.
"Crayton. She's dangerous."
Priella was warning Crayton about the old woman.
Even if she appeared subdued, danger still lurked.
"Indeed. I'll be careful."
"Yeah."
Venturing through battlefields taught you certain things naturally.
These were barbarians who had fooled the imperial army and infiltrated the city, so caution was warranted.
"Who sent you into the city?"
Click—.
Crayton's hand aimed his staff at the old woman.
Priella also assumed a stance ready to swing her sword at any moment.
A threat that any funny business would mean her head.
"Kekeke— Asking whose orders, are you?"
Hearing Crayton's question, the old woman soon let out a chilling laugh and opened her mouth.
"There's only one warrior who could request anything of this old hag, you feeble imperial mage."
"......"
"The greatest warrior, who heeds no one's commands but his own."
The greatest warrior—.
Crayton's face hardened at the mention.
No wonder, for the figure from the old woman's lips was an absurd heavyweight.
"No way, your identity..."
"Call me Korkia. Your hated enemy, the shaman who etches ferocity into warriors' flesh—."
Archshaman Korkia.
The Erbar League's foremost shaman, one of the Five Tusks following Great Chieftain Partlinger.
One of the league's top brass had personally infiltrated the city.
"...Korkia."
Even for Crayton, who had spent years on the northern front, facing such a figure directly like this was a first.
Grip—.
Crayton's hand tightened further on his staff.
Knowing her identity now, he worried what she might unleash.
"From that reaction, you seem to know who this old one is—."
Korkia, intrigued by Crayton's demeanor, twitched her slumped shoulder and smiled.
"Who'd have thought the league's famed archshaman would grace us here. Astonishing."
"If you're so pleased, how about removing that vicious thing?"
"I can't do that. Just as you serve the league, I serve the empire."
Their gazes met in midair.
For a moment, Crayton glared at Korkia amid the locking stares.
Kekekeke—.
Soon, Korkia erupted in grotesque laughter and raised one hand.
"Well, failing to prepare spares is regrettable. But this should suffice for the ritual."
She wore an oddly leisurely smile.
Startled by Korkia's actions, Crayton urgently activated his grimoire and drew up mana.
"Cut the nonsense, Korkia. You can't escape here in that state anyway—."
"......"
"Consider this a warning. Move any further, and you'll die."
"Kill me? This old woman? With just you?"
An ill omen prickled.
Their views of the scene felt mismatched.
In this incomprehensible standoff, Crayton immediately surged his mana.
Capturing her alive seemed impossible.
If so, even a league executive would have to die—.
Ssshh—.
Amid the swirling mana, Crayton conjured spikes.
"—Pierce."
The ground where the expanding mana touched began to upheave.
Kwarrr rumble—.
Wedges shot sharply from the earth, stretching toward Korkia.
A wave of spikes thundering forth with deafening roars.
Just as they sought to shred the wounded old woman's body—.
"The time to fulfill the contract has come. Rise now—."
Thud—!
Before Crayton's spikes reached her, a burst echoed from one of Korkia's eyes.
Amid the freak occurrence before the attack landed, Crayton's panicked gaze fixed on the old woman.
Drip—.
Right after, darkness spreading from beneath the screaming old woman blocked Crayton's spikes.
"Gaaahhh—!"
"......!"
The darkness surged instantly, rippling as it absorbed all the spikes.
Boom! Crash—!
Rumble crumble—.
Echoing collision sounds.
From the impact's surface, ripples spread, and beneath them, an alien energy overflowed.
"Huu, huuu...!"
Moreover, from her groaning eye, viscous darkness trickled like tears.
Korkia had clearly pulled some trick.
"She had a hidden ace...!"
Stabbed off-guard by the unexpected means, Crayton aimed his staff again.
"Kuh... Damn imperial dogs. Next time, whew... next time we meet, you won't die easy—."
"Korkia...!"
But the changes in Korkia weren't over.
Crunch! Rumble crumble—!
Beyond the halted spikes, blocked by the curtain of darkness.
Korkia's wounded flesh was sinking deeper into the thickening darkness.
'She prepared an escape from the start!'
He had anticipated it upon entering the city, but she had means to slip away even if exposed.
Grit—.
Gnashing his teeth, Crayton urgently racked his brain.
'I can't let her escape like this. Must think of a way to hold her.'
The darkness rippling at the old woman's feet was incredibly dense.
Even Crayton's full-power spell couldn't pierce it.
Priella seemed to sense this too, standing motionless.
Even the crow spirit watched silently, suggesting no sharp countermeasures.
"Be cursed, imperial dogs!"
"......"
"The day I, Korkia, return, you'll weep blood in regret—!"
Moreover, the darkness at her feet was steadily swallowing her moment by moment.
Once it fully engulfed Korkia, tracking would likely prove difficult.
Crayton's busy gaze swept the surroundings.
Mercenary. Shaman. Barbarian warrior's corpse.
And, one grimoire—.
"......!"
Crayton's gaze snapped to the grimoire in his hand.
The grimoire from the Third Repository, inscribed with detection magic.
Its owner, Johan, had said it would aid in tracking enemies.
Hoo—.
After a short deep breath, Crayton raised the grimoire.
'No time for hesitation—.'
Flutter rustle—.
The pages of the grimoire in Crayton's hand flipped rapidly.
If he could just pinpoint her location, it didn't matter where the shaman fled.
He could pursue Korkia through the darkness and strike when it cleared.
"—[Grimoire] activate."
Thus resolved, Crayton activated the spell inscribed in the grimoire.
The Third Repository's forbidden art, Clairvoyance.
Even with mere detection and tracking, this spell reaching 'forbidden' realm began to shine from Crayton's hand—.
"......"
—and soon, he comprehended omniscience.
An overwhelming flood of information poured into Crayton's mind.
Heartbeat throbs.
Pulsing life stirrings.
The flow of blood racing through his body, to the world's cycles traversing heaven and earth.
Information beyond human capacity overflowed in Crayton's head.
A volume befitting the name "forbidden."
"Ah—."
A sigh escaped the mage clutching his staff.
Excessive informational shards kept expanding in his mind.
Fragments of omniscience lay in his grasp.
He saw all here, understood all here, knew all here.
"Aaahhh—."
It felt like consciousness would wink out any second.
Yet Crayton's mind tenuously held at the brink.
Not due to exceptional mental fortitude.
Merely, the grimoire in his hand sorted information near its limits.
"Aaahhhh—!"
The fierce voice spilling from Crayton's lips showed no sign of stopping.
The spell held no inherent flaws.
Yet his overly expanded vision attempted to take in even what 'should not be seen.'
Woooom—.
Beneath the darkness into which the league's shaman Korkia sank.
Absurd volumes of information flowed from there.
- ……
Darkness.
Deep darkness.
Beyond the rippling darkness stretched a vast cosmos.
An endless world's horizon.
From beyond, unidentified perilous entities gazed at Crayton.
Sizzle—.
His head burned.
The accelerating spell struggled to control information incoming from beyond the darkness.
But faster than Clairvoyance could filter, myriad data surged from 'the world's edge.'
"——!"
The scream leaking from Crayton's mouth echoed as a wail.
His raw shout grated like scraping metal.
And into such Crayton's mind rang pure waves of will.
- Eyes……
"—————!"
- Eyes... open……
Incomprehensible language.
Yet it rooted as clear intent in Crayton's chest.
Groan—.
Veins bulged on his staff-gripping hand as strength surged.
- Aaah……
A colossal something swimming at the world's edge.
If a fish with a beast's head endlessly twisted, would it end like that?
A form beyond human aesthetics.
The outer 'monster' bearing such a form ceaselessly addressed Crayton.
"————!"
Vibrating will.
Amid mind-shaking thoughts, Crayton strained bloodshot eyes to control the spell.
A defensive reflex to protect himself.
- Aaahhh... That one……
But the uncontrolled spell only ingested unprocessable info.
Waves of data swept his mind.
Graspless forms expanded within.
A distant, vivid ringing.
Hearing it, Crayton's hand began moving on its own.
- That one... protects you……
No more—this was the limit.
Unable to suppress the anomaly, Crayton aimed his staff at his own head.
An impulse to self-destruct surged in his mind.
He needed a way to unknow that outer world.
Soon, the voice booming in Crayton's ears began fading.
- Worry... not......
Static, crackle—.
The incoming outer will blurred.
The inhuman voice gradually sank.
In its stead, only quiet ripples spread through Crayton's mind.
- She... will... be pleased……
Thud—.
Consciousness blacked out.
* * * * * *
When Crayton Lukbart opened his eyes again.
He was in a vast library with a familiar sight.
A great mage's library where beautiful moonlight poured in.
—Illusory Archive Celestia.
Though he'd faced this library countless times, seeing it with moonlight seeping in was a first.
Amid the shattered moonlight cascading down, Crayton's gaze turned to the one seated before him.
"......"
Rustle, rustle—.
In the silent library's center, the sound of turning pages echoed.
The friction of whispering paper.
Seated before Crayton was, naturally, the mage who claimed this vast library as domain.
Archmage Johan.
A great mage whose true nature even Crayton, with countless visits, couldn't fathom.
As always, he sat quietly before Crayton, reading a library book.
"Crayton."
"...Yes, Lord Johan."
The sharp-featured black-haired youth called Crayton's name.
Without lifting eyes from his book, Johan spoke to him.
It wasn't particularly surprising for Crayton.
Having just used 'Clairvoyance,' he could somewhat guess what Johan saw.
"You look like you had a nightmare."
Perhaps gauging the situation Crayton faced outside.
Rustle—.
Johan, turning a grimoire page, posed a question to Crayton.
"Few reasons would bring you to Celestia at this hour."
"......"
"What did you see with Clairvoyance?"
The scene Crayton encountered using Clairvoyance.
Hearing the question, Crayton gazed at Johan with a complicated expression.
"...The world's edge."
Soon, a short tale spilled from Crayton's lips.
What should not be seen.
A tale of the taboo unfit for human eyes.
"An endlessly vast... vicious... such darkness."
"Darkness... I see."
Swoosh—.
Johan raised his head, his gaze meeting Crayton's.
As if demanding more, he quietly peered into Crayton's eyes.
Gulp—.
Swallowing, Crayton continued.
"Beyond the rippling world's veil, horrifically numerous monsters—."
Crayton's face darkened as he spoke.
He felt nauseous, on the verge of vomiting.
Hoo—.
Toward the raggedly breathing Crayton, the watching Johan offered a faint smile.
"No need to worry. You didn't die, after all."
"...Yes."
"Fortunately, no major issues. I'll arrange for your quick return."
Ragged breaths burst from his mouth.
The feared vomiting didn't occur.
Instead, Johan's clear voice echoed through the library.
"Best avoid peering into the outer world when possible. I'll soon teach you how to handle Clairvoyance."
The middle-aged mage quietly raised his head.
A great mage.
Yet one whose depths remained unfathomable.
He thought he'd learned much about the youth before him, but greater ignorance filled his mind.
Gazing at the library ceiling, myriad thoughts washed over Crayton like waves.
"......"
His dizzy gaze took in the scene before him.
The moonlight-scattered library was utterly beautiful.