Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title:
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—World Tree.
The primal lifeform revered by elves as their mother tree.
This tree, possessing an overwhelming vitality, had taken root in the continent long ago, and the immense life force emanating from the World Tree had created the Great Forest at the continent's heart.
The legend that this World Tree bore something in the form of its first fruit once every few hundred years was well-known, even to those who were not elves.
Marcel, a member of the black mages' secret society, the Veil of Truth, had pursued that legend for a long time.
An unknown entity created by condensing vast life force.
He believed without a doubt that it would fulfill his long-cherished ambition.
"Control the area so no one approaches nearby!"
And now, that long-held ambition of Marcel's was on the verge of realization here, in the form of a ritual.
The traditional rite performed by the elves of the Great Forest—the Harvest Festival.
He had completed all preparations to hastily recreate its procedure on the spot.
"From now on, I shall mimic the elves' 'Harvest Festival' one step ahead!"
Marcel possessed wisdom worthy of a seat among the Five Candles.
He was one of the foremost experts in rituals and ceremonies within the Veil of Truth.
He had conducted all manner of rites directed at outerworldly monsters.
A sage who had performed sacrifices to sustain black magic.
For such a Marcel, interpreting the materials left by the elves was no difficult task.
'Though I failed to interpret some parts, I've deciphered enough that there shouldn't be issues even with an abbreviated form.'
According to Marcel's analysis, the elves' 'Harvest Festival' shared a structure similar to the primal rites used by black mages.
Thus, he had swiftly reconstructed the ritual's contents.
The only oddity was the complete absence of a slot for a sacrifice.
Perhaps because the target was the World Tree, it seemed not to demand any offerings like the entities of the outer world.
"Sir Marcel, what should we do about that priest who just escaped?"
However, perhaps due to the tangled situation in the Great Forest at present.
A minor disturbance had arisen during his preparations for the ritual.
A certain portly priest wandering alone through the Great Forest had been spotted by black mages passing nearby.
"Is that even worth mentioning? That guy's built like he couldn't run for his life! Release the undead right now and tear him apart!"
"Yes! We'll hurry and assemble another pursuit squad!"
Of course, considering the priest's build, it seemed unlikely he'd gotten far.
"No issues can arise with this ritual! Swiftly clean up anything that could pose even a slight problem!"
Releasing a few undead would surely track him down and kill him soon enough—.
Marcel issued orders to his subordinate with such thoughts in mind.
"Activate the protective barrier! The ritual begins now!"
Having finished directing his subordinates, Marcel checked the state of the undead patrolling the area and opened his book.
It was a document on the ritual, written in ancient Elvish.
Shuffle—.
As the pages of the old tome flipped rapidly.
Before long, the magic circuits surrounding him began emitting a chilling aura, forming the protective barrier.
"————."
Ahh—.
A trembling voice flowed from Marcel's mouth.
The priest for this 'Harvest Festival' was Marcel himself.
The 'Usurper of Wisdom' engraved in his left eye began to glow, and soon his mouth opened, emitting eerie sounds.
Ahhh—.
Words not of human tongue poured from Marcel's mouth.
"————."
The first utterance took shape.
Then, the second added meaning to Marcel's tale.
Thus, Marcel Alius continued the ritual for the harvest from the makeshift altar.
The rite to direct the fruit borne by the World Tree.
At the moment this ritual sought to proceed through Marcel.
"Stop! If you conduct that ritual now——!"
Tadadadadak—.
An incomprehensible voice rang out in urgent cry.
"……!"
Marcel, overseeing the ritual, turned his gaze to the edge of his vision.
In the middle of the distant forest.
An elf clad in a black muffler was racing toward him at full speed.
And in that elf's grasp was the familiar figure of a priest.
"That face……!"
"Sir Marcel! It's the priest we spotted nearby! Looks like he's brought the elves back with him!"
A frantic voice spilled from the black mage who had found the portly priest.
The priest from the church they had just let slip away.
Somehow or other, he'd persuaded an elf and brought them as an ally.
'Black muffler... One of the Eight Sword Society's Sword Ghosts!'
For a moment, as Marcel tried to identify the identity from afar by the muffler fluttering behind the elf.
Toward them rang the rough voice of the priest held in the elf's hand.
"Kwaaaah! Air, air... Put me down and run yourself—!"
The church priest gripped in the Sword Ghost's hand began screaming in a booming voice.
Crunch—.
Watching that, Marcel ground his teeth.
The instant he spotted the Sword Ghost, Marcel had to make a decision.
End the ritual immediately and flee.
Or force the ritual through somehow.
Memories of all the efforts poured in thus far flashed rapidly through Marcel's mind as he conducted the rite.
'After all I've invested, I can't abandon it now!'
He had poured everything into reaching this point.
The locations suitable for setting up the altar were limited anyway.
Thus, he had no choice but to pour all he had into this spot.
'Just hold out a little longer and the ritual ends! Then follow with the summoning from the outer world somehow!'
Swish—.
Marcel's legs moved as he reached his conclusion.
His lips parted, and an eerie sound echoed outward.
He attempted to partially alter the ongoing ritual's contents.
"————."
Utterances poured ceaselessly from Marcel's mouth.
The outerworldly knowledge housed in one eye began aiding him at full power.
One man's words carried deeper, darker meaning.
Words imbued with power overflowed from his mouth, forming significance.
"Stop the ritual right now—!"
Meanwhile, the Sword Ghost shouted something at Marcel from afar.
"Uwaaaah! Put! Me! Down and run—!"
A shrill voice echoed thunderously through the Great Forest in pursuit.
Crunch—.
Marcel's face twisted upon hearing it.
The sound rang so clearly that he worried someone else might hear and come running.
Swish.
Marcel's gaze turned to the protective barrier.
'The opponent is that famed Sword Ghost. One who can smash through even a prepared mage's domain—.'
How many attacks could the barrier before his eyes withstand?
As he gauged that, Marcel bit his lip.
Crack!
Blood trickled from his sharply torn lip.
A makeshift method to amplify the effect using the caster's blood.
"————."
Whoooong—.
Waves of expanding mana.
From beneath the altar, now resonating with the blood, came a vibrating rumble.
"……."
Something below the ground was responding.
Proof that Marcel's 'Harvest Festival' was not in vain.
And with it, another presence reacted.
Whiiist—!
Before he knew it, a man on horseback had arrived, spotted Marcel, and blew a sharp whistle.
'Brotherhood……!'
Marcel's face filled with horror as he identified them from the man's tattoo.
Until just moments ago, he'd only worried about the elves.
But now the situation had changed.
Thanks to that whistle, he now had to worry about the Brotherhood joining in.
"Kill him! Kill that bastard!"
"Eliminate the intruder now!"
Leoblanc Brotherhood.
Those who ran the 'Black Market,' where anything could be bought for a price.
They clearly planned to seize the fruit here and sell it at the Black Market.
Huuuk—.
A deep breath brought a throbbing headache to Marcel's mind.
Echoing hoofbeats reached his ears from afar.
"————."
Of course, even amid the commotion, Marcel's ritual progressed steadily.
Rumble rumble—.
The massive vibration rising from beneath his feet signaled the ritual's end was near.
Just a bit more.
A little further, and he was certain he could claim the World Tree's fruit before the elves.
"Suppress them! We must hold out until Sir Marcel completes the ritual!"
"Uwaaaah—!"
"Sacrifices are short! We used up all the fingers in the last battle……!"
Everything was chaos.
It felt as if all eyes in the Great Forest were focused here.
Enduring the pounding headache, Marcel continued speaking in inhuman tongue.
"————."
Time flowed swiftly.
As fatigue accumulated in Marcel amid it all.
Crack, craaack—.
Suddenly, from beneath the altar where Marcel stood, a thick root burst upward through the ground.
"Finally... the ritual's complete……!"
Craaack—.
The single root shot up at the altar's center, then split wide with a rip, revealing its contents.
Marcel Alius.
The black mage who had conducted the solemn rite stared into the opened root.
"The World Tree's fruit……!"
Within the fiercely split root.
Marcel's eyes, searching for the fruit, suddenly froze.
Something inside the root.
It was far too plain to call a fruit.
"Ah……?"
Marcel's hand, steeped in bewilderment, groped the root.
The sight before Marcel's eyes.
A seed utterly devoid of flesh lay alone, plump within the root.
"This, this makes no sense……."
Crack—.
Marcel Alius's vision went black.
* * * * * *
Kaaang! Kaaaaang—!
Metal clashes boomed alternately in his ears.
Explosions bursting in short cycles.
Amid them, Sirius's blade moved busily, following instinct's will.
"Sirius! I thought you could hold him off!"
Downward slash.
Ringing whoosh.
In it, all senses fragmented into info, forming unconscious cues for judgment.
- "……."
Austin's consciousness controlling Sirius drew on intuition to its limit.
Brotherhood leader, Isaac Leoblanc.
He was an exceedingly skilled swordsman.
Had Austin ever crossed blades with anyone this strong in his life—.
Such thoughts flashed through Austin's mind.
'One mistake and it's over!'
From facing the first strike, Austin had already realized.
The opponent was a true monster.
A monster among monsters, transcending human limits.
Against such a being, all Austin could do was move as instinct guided.
Kaaang! Kwoooong—!
One impact exploded with a boom, flinging Sirius's body far back.
Only activating the thrusters afterward barely canceled the shock.
Kaaang! Kaaang—!
Unblockable barrages poured at incomprehensible speed.
Sirius's superhuman reaction speed yielded only the shoulder guard, barely deflecting lethal blows.
- "……!"
Every instant was life-or-death.
Every attack raining on him carried the intent to bisect Sirius.
Kaaang! Kang! Kaaang—!
To counter all incoming assaults, Austin poured every shred of his intuition.
Ears dulled to sounds.
Vision simplified incoming info.
In the suffocating battle, Austin invested most consciousness in defending against Isaac's strikes.
State of no-self.
Austin's awareness controlling Sirius erased itself, thrusting into limitlessness.
'I must endure—.'
In instinct, Sirius danced.
Kaaang—!
A motion no human body could perform blocked Isaac's sword.
Kwoogoogoo—!
Split-second judgment evaded the magic sword's backlash.
Austin Rainer.
He concentrated all his capacity to control Sirius.
Yet even displaying such movements, Austin was merely scrambling to block Isaac's attacks.
No thought of countering; merely enduring the fury of Isaac's blade.
'I must block. I must endure—.'
Sense of time's passage faded from Austin's mind.
See. Defend.
See again.
Defend again.
Only this process repeated endlessly within Austin.
"Just a bit longer, and I'll find an opening—!"
Kwaang! Kwoooong—!
Amid flowing time, voices dissolved into noise.
"Yes! Entertain me more—!"
Block, pushed back, barely regain stance.
"Your Excellency! We'll go—!"
Successive shocks repeatedly shoved Sirius's body.
Thud! Roll—.
Sirius tumbled across the ground again after dissipating the impact.
Screech—.
Austin swiftly righted the off-balance Sirius.
A situation he'd faced many times.
Thus, as Austin's consciousness focused deeply on battle, wandering in profound reverie—.
- "……."
At some point, Austin realized he stood at the battlefield's center.
"All hands! Protect His Excellency!"
"Captain! Those damn black mages seem to have started the ritual before the elves!"
"Aaaah! Sir Marcel……!"
Other voices, noise-like till now, finally rang clear.
Unfamiliar voices boomed in his ears.
Harsh shouts echoed like ripples.
Amid it, Sirius staggered to its feet.
Whirr—.
Sirius's gaze fixed on Isaac.
Isaac Leoblanc's eyes no longer regarded Sirius.
"Is that the World Tree's fruit……!"
He merely gaped in admiration at something.
Spotting Isaac thus, Austin quietly followed his gaze.
Creak—.
Not far from where Austin stood.
Atop a wooden altar there stood a mage holding a fruit and a book.
"Damn it……."
The mage on the altar trembled.
With eyes steeped in fear, he spoke while staring at the fruit in his hand.
Swish.
A quivering voice spilled from the terrified mage's mouth.
"Damn elf bastards... What the hell do they grow in this Great Forest—!"
His enraged voice echoed through the Great Forest.
Swaeek!
Right then, an arrow slicing wind pierced the mage's body.
An arrow loosed by an elf hidden in the trees.
Screech, thud—.
From the fallen black mage's hand on the altar, the bloodied fruit rolled to the ground.
"Ah……."
A heavy sigh escaped.
Whose, unknown.
And soon, a voice boomed.
"The World Tree's fruit—!"
"Secure the fruit now!"
World Tree's fruit.
With that cry, countless people surged from all directions toward one point.
Sirius's eyes reflected chaos.
A dizzying melee unfolded before him.
"Don't block our desperate wish—!"
Black mages screaming blood tears.
"We must not yield the fruit to human scum!"
Elves racing along tree branches.
"Protect His Excellency! Don't forget your duty!"
Knights charging with church emblems.
"Brothers! Time to reap our long labors!"
Brotherhood members spurring horses.
Each voice shattered and lodged in Sirius's ears.
- "……."
A pitiable voice not of man flowed from the cold magic armor's exterior.
A scene born of human greed existed here.
A greed-filled cardinal snatched the fruit.
Slice—.
Isaac's sword severed the cardinal's arm.
"Kwaaaah……!"
With the scream, the fruit flew far away.
Before the rolling fruit, crowds rushed anew to one spot.
Rumble rumble—.
Vibrations from the masses echoed everywhere.
As if the fierce battle moments ago were a lie, they created disorderly pandemonium chasing the fruit.
'Is this the sight everyone desired?'
Austin's gaze turned to the Great Forest's 'Harvest Festival.'
In the raucous festival air, a once holy knight watched human greed.
'Is this truly the scene everyone longed for?'
Austin Rainer.
He was not wise.
He himself was clumsy and indecisive.
He was not a good person.
Embrace all—.
He didn't fully grasp the scriptures the priests preached.
He was not honest.
Cast aside greed—.
He couldn't empathize with the church's call for abstinence.
He was one who couldn't precisely discern right from wrong.
'Did I enter the Great Forest... to see this?'
Simply, he knew what it meant to be just.
And understood what honor signified.
Thus, only now did he realize.
That his hands, standing here, had become irreversibly stained sometime ago—.
That holy knight Austin had become neither just nor honorable.
- "……."
Here, no distinction of good and evil existed.
All was good.
All was evil.
Endlessly cycling human greed committed sin.
Only one way to break that cycle.
—I'm sorry, Mary.
A word of atonement welled from his chest.
It wasn't his fault.
Yet something he must bear existed here.
- "……Begerton, Antares."
Unknown emotions boiled.
Unknown murderous intent flowed.
Emotions surged back.
Fueled by seething heat, the once holy knight moved by his own will.
A fragmented name spilled from his mouth.
Symbol of sin.
A man like a criminal idol in his heart slowly raised his head.
- "Now, the time has come."
Austin Rainer.
By his own will, he cast aside his faith.