Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Dragon (3)
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Are they communicating with the gods in real time or something?
Just like me and Zero.
Otherwise, there was no way they could grant permission so quickly.
'Madness is palpable.'
It's a very familiar look in their eyes.
The warriors and even the saintess were all insane, unable to think straight.
I get it.
They'd been trapped for over a month with no supplies.
The stored food probably couldn't sustain all those warriors anyway.
At least I hadn't gone mad from hunger.
But I'd seen plenty of madness born from starvation.
Back when the entire continent suffered from the great famine.
People selling their children, eating them, raiding and butchering fellow humans.
The nobles refused to release their stockpiles.
To satisfy their own selfish greed, they exploited even more cruelly and poured fuel on wars to reduce the number of mouths to feed.
"Why no answer? Scared now, are you?"
The saintess's sneer grew wider.
The warriors watched like it was some entertaining spectacle.
I'd just gotten nostalgic over that familiar madness for a moment.
I shrugged and spoke.
"If I enter that holy land and come back alive, you'll acknowledge me?"
"Yes. Step just ten paces inside, and I'll recognize you as a saint."
They won't even manage one pace, let alone ten.
They'd seen warriors drop dead heading toward the holy land.
'One in ten becomes a pagan.'
90% fatality rate.
But that's just the baseline.
The depth you go determines the quality of pagan you become.
Stopping after the first step doesn't make you a proper pagan.
You need at least ten paces for true pagan power.
Beyond twenty, you're called a 'warrior pagan,' guardian of a small city.
Over thirty, a 'great warrior pagan,' appointed protector of the holy land.
And past forty, a 'great pagan,' becoming a guardian deity of the North.
But reaching great pagan is a realm only one in ten thousand achieves. The rest die trying to tread that great path.
The great pagan who guards the North can act on free will in any situation, even choosing whether to join the holy land's wars.
There are currently five great pagans in the North.
Yung is one of them.
'A great warrior called the devil a saint. If not corrected, division will arise.'
The saintess glared at the empire's devil.
She didn't know how he'd swayed Yung, but clearly, he'd chosen the path of death.
'He'll never succeed.'
Standing before the holy land, he might cower in awe and collapse.
Warriors see becoming pagan as honor and face death willingly, but this was the empire's devil.
How would a devil like that understand a warrior's honor?
The only concern was his companions.
The young devil himself seemed harmless, but everyone around him exuded extraordinary auras.
"Of course, no help from others. A saint builds his stature alone. Challenge it by yourself."
"Your Highness, please reconsider."
Germin pleaded earnestly.
His face full of worry.
He had to stop him somehow from walking into that cave where even most warriors died instantly.
Edis shook his head.
"It's suicide. Even I, an 8th circle mage, couldn't return alive from in there."
Even ordinary people could sense it.
The dangerous mana dwelling in that holy land.
Dangerous. Far beyond just dangerous.
That mana existed solely to kill humans.
He knew about such concentrations of mana.
"Your Highness, have you heard of Killing Field?"
"That so-called 9th circle spell?"
"Yes. An absolute domain used by ancient 'dragons,' wieldable only by 9th circle mages. Killing Field kills all life just by entering—a deathly domain."
"That cave is a Killing Field?"
"Yes."
Edis was certain.
It was magic.
A legendary 9th circle spell: Killing Field.
As an 8th circle mage and tower master, Edis could tell.
Even he might barely endure ten paces inside. Even with dozens of mana barriers, that was his limit.
With aid blocked, Reinhardt entering alone meant instant death.
He had to stop him.
If not, knock him out and drag him away.
No matter their oath of loyalty, this was too reckless.
Even if it cost his life, he'd get Reinhardt and his granddaughter out safely.
Edis steadied his breath, preparing for contingencies.
"......Were you planning this from the start?"
Then, Croft, who had initially blocked the way, spoke up.
Now he understood Reinhardt's past words.
'What Carlos Grand Duke hid.'
What Carlos had hunted shadows and delayed invading the holy land to obtain.
If it was something inside that cave?
A deathly land even northern warriors couldn't escape. Delaying to secretly extract it?
......And Crown Prince Reinhardt knew the method too?
'This place was the goal from the start. His Highness knew.'
He'd come north to seize what Carlos sought.
Under the pretext of treating Edis's granddaughter.
How he knew didn't matter now.
But if this was the target, Reinhardt's actions made sense.
Croft met Reinhardt's eyes.
Full of confidence.
Unyielding gaze.
No trace of his former dullness.
But such confidence could be poison. That's what worried him.
If Reinhardt died from a wrong move, he'd have to be buried here too.
'I've lived long enough; my death doesn't worry me.'
Reinhardt was hope.
Awakening from long slumber, stretching.
He couldn't push him into danger when he couldn't help.
Better if he challenged the cave himself.
"Croft. Don't you trust me?"
But.
If he'd sworn to believe and follow, he must respect his master's choice.
Croft's eyes wavered.
Then he decided.
"...I believe and will follow."
To follow Reinhardt's decision.
He believed in the miracles and mysterious talents Reinhardt had shown.
If Reinhardt failed, this place wouldn't stay peaceful.
Especially that saintess.
He'd behead her no matter what.
"Why, why stare like that? Think I'll be scared?"
The saintess shuddered slightly.
Sensing Croft's killing intent.
The surrounding pagans grew uneasy.
—A powerhouse.
The presence of strength.
The depth of power from Croft.
Like an abyss.
Deeper than so-called great warriors.
Not even the empire's standout devils exuded such aura.
—Demon King......
Gulp!
Tense pagans instinctively raised weapons.
That endless power deserved the name Demon King.
Only instinct-sharpened pagans recognized Croft and trembled.
"Then I'll be off."
I said it lightly, like taking a stroll.
Germin and Edis still looked worried, but Croft had shown faith. They realized they had no choice but to trust.
"Be careful."
Oddly, Kaizel uttered a worried word.
To her, this place wasn't normal.
'Epic. A high-level one.'
Perhaps one of the primordial epics slumbered here.
If so, two primordial epics clashing.
No way to gauge the winner.
'An incredibly combative epic. What does he plan?'
From the entrance, it reeked of deathly mana—clearly a lawless epic.
Best to ignore such epics.
Why enter a path that might kill him?
Incomprehensible to her, but maybe a pride clash unique to primordial epics.
Strong-egos always itching to devour each other.
Luckily, being young, she lacked such pride.
"Make way."
Thud.
I stepped forward.
The saintess and pagans parted.
Under everyone's gaze, Reinhardt moved.
Finally before the cave, all tensed.
'It'll be terrifying. He'll want to give up.'
The saintess's sneer widened.
Stopping at the entrance meant he'd finally chickened out.
Now, time to beg, crying for mercy.
Admit he's no saint, just a devil spawn—she'd spare him.
'Beg for your life. Atone!'
The saintess screamed inwardly.
And then.
Thud.
"......!"
"Hup!"
Germin turned away entirely.
Reinhardt had stepped into the cave.
But no bodily mutation occurred.
Looking surprisingly fine, the saintess frowned.
'Lucky bastard. But that's just the first step. Each one feels like death.'
Ten paces.
That's needed for pagan power.
But every step was hell, all pagans said.
Inside was pure hell.
Even seasoned warriors dreaded stepping.
Drip—
But Reinhardt took another pace.
Thud.
Thud.
With footsteps echoing, he advanced without hesitation.
"Wha... t...?"
He didn't stop.
No reluctance.
Just walking.
No bodily change, no vital signs disruption.
Even compatible physiques show some mutation.
Thus, ten paces.
"Impossible......!"
The saintess screamed.
An impossibility unfolded.
More shocking: he didn't stop at ten.
'Twenty paces.'
Becoming a warrior pagan, city guardian level.
Yet Reinhardt pressed on.
'Stop. Stop!'
Thirty paces.
Great warrior, holy land protector level.
But ignoring her cries, he advanced further.
......Forty paces.
"Ah."
"Prostrate yourselves."
The pagans knelt.
All warriors bowed in awe.
Here, a great warrior was born.
But.
Reinhardt didn't stop at forty.
Deeper, further in.
And finally.
"......"
He vanished completely from sight.
[ (3) ] End