Chapter 122
Chapter 122
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 122
Chapter Title: Battle at the Think Tank Entrance
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He was handling mana in the same way as the mages in the mansion's basement.
Humans turned into magical beasts, mages drawing mana directly from the roots. Was Gilwood the mastermind?
Lander swung his sword, blowing away the dust. A wall about three meters high vanished in an instant.
The ground was deeply gouged as well. If an explosion like this had gone off in the middle of a residential area...
He turned his head. It wasn't over yet. Seven mages, carrying mana far beyond what their bodies could endure, were charging toward the Think Tank entrance.
Killing them was no challenge. They had forsaken their lives. All he had to do was hold his sword out along their path, and they would impale their hearts on the blade.
The problem came after. They were no longer human. They were walking Mana Condensation Rods.
Kill them, and they exploded. Leave them alive, and they would still blow up. It was a fanaticism that disregarded their own lives. They charged forward with a single-minded determination to succeed no matter what.
There was only one way to deal with them.
Take them out before they could detonate near the entrance.
He wasn't omnipotent, but within arm's reach, he was close to it.
The domain of his sword was where his will manifested and mana fell under his control.
About ten meters in diameter. Two mages were inside that space.
He channeled mana into the sword in his hand. The 'root' beneath his feet vibrated fiercely, lending him its power. He swung the sword down from above toward the two mages in a straight line.
The root, resonating with the sword, sprayed mana along its trajectory. Mana that burst through the earth took form and sliced through the mages' bodies.
Half their bodies were severed, followed swiftly by their limbs. The chunks shattered in an instant.
Before the mages' flesh could even hit the ground, a massive explosion erupted. A wave of dust surged forward. Bracing against the fierce wind pressure, he locked eyes on his next target.
He kicked off the ground and launched himself forward. Five remained, all outside his domain.
He gripped his sword in a reverse hold and hurled it at the farthest mage. Bank would be disappointed, but what could he do? The sword pierced the mage's head.
Boom. An explosion rocked the air. He charged through the blinding dust storm and seized the thrashing mage by the throat. He snapped its neck and flung the body against the wall.
The blast and thunderous roar battered his ears. His vision blacked out for a moment, and his hearing dulled.
His breath came in gasps. When was the last time he'd drawn mana from a root for this long?
Even with mana shielding his body, he was still flesh and blood. Prolonged exposure to such intense shocks would take its toll.
But he couldn't stop now. As he advanced toward the next mage drawing closer to the entrance—
The mage halted. Its eyes bulging halfway out of their sockets, it screamed at him.
“Demon blocking our salvation!”
The mana that should have detonated condensed inside the mage's body. A magical pulse swept over Lander.
It was an intense wave, the kind felt only from unit-scale spells on the front lines.
The mage's hair turned stark white. The woman's face, which had looked to be in her mid-forties, aged rapidly. Her skin withered, and her neck and back began to hunch.
It wasn't a mere explosion—it was magic that passed through the Imaginary Realm.
Lander accelerated. Whatever it was, he had no intention of letting it be.
As he lunged to seize the mage's body—
The mage's chest split open.
Blood rained down, growing viscous mid-fall before stretching into long threads. Thousands of crimson strands lashed toward him.
* * *
Her mind was a blank. The shock from the explosions felt like it had twisted her guts.
Dust blanketed everything, blocking her view, but Ariel knew. Beyond the haze, Lander was fighting.
Explosions boomed in rapid succession. What in the world was happening? The swirling dust finally blotted out the sky.
She clamped a hand over her mouth and scanned her surroundings. Her breathing grew ragged. Tension was locking up her body.
“Get it together.”
She steadied herself with a sharp word. That's when something streaked past her.
It was Lander, kicking up dust in his wake. He moved too fast for her eyes to track.
The dust cleared briefly. She gripped her sword and moved. This wasn't a fight she could handle, but she couldn't just stand idle.
Far ahead, she spotted Lander's back. His sword was gone. Had he dropped it? Or thrown it?
She had to get this to him. Ariel closed in to hand over her sword.
That's when the magical pulse struck her body. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt.
The caster's emotions were infused within it—desperation, affection, and a rage hot enough to burn the world.
Her legs faltered. Just being caught in the pulse made her jaw chatter uncontrollably.
This isn't magic a person should use. It was dangerous. Incredibly dangerous.
This wasn't a simple release of power like an explosion. She couldn't even imagine what form its threat would take.
A wind blew through. The obstructions cleared from her sight, restoring her vision.
Countless crimson threads.
She stood frozen, watching them undulate like waves. Paradoxically, they struck her as beautiful for a fleeting moment.
They were the scars of burned life. Magic born from one human's total sacrifice. And she realized it then—that this was terror made manifest.
The crimson threads spread like a net, converging on Lander.
“Dodge it!”
She screamed at the top of her lungs. Don't let it touch you. Ariel ran with all her might, knowing she was too late but moving anyway.
Maybe this sword could help somehow. Maybe the gods would grant one chance.
But hope turned to despair in an instant. The sword slipped from her grasp. It clanged against the ground.
The crimson threads engulfed Lander. A monster peeled away from them, staggering before collapsing sideways. From its heaving breaths, it seemed still alive.
She blinked a couple of times. What had happened was irreversible. Gritting her teeth, she reached for her sword again. Then, a forgotten fact resurfaced.
Her eyes darted. Far off, toward the Think Tank entrance, monsters were scrambling on all fours.
Unlike the others, their bodies were turning white. There were three of them.
Could she stop them? She steadied her wobbling body and charged. She knew it was impossible.
Just the aftermath had left her dazed—what would direct exposure to the blast do?
She'd probably be vaporized, not even leaving a corpse. She knew going wouldn't accomplish anything. Yet she had to try. Standing by like an idiot was worse than death.
She'd taken three steps when the monsters' bodies began to glow. It's over. Can't stop them.
What about the family? Father's vengeance? The survivors? Regret lingered, but she had no doubts about her choice.
She halted, arms limp at her sides. Time felt slowed. In a few seconds, even this thought would be impossible.
She gazed toward her family home. Far beyond the Holy City, the mansion beyond her sight. And she remembered. The people waiting for her there.
“Father, Willett.”
Her eyelids drooped slowly. The world dimmed briefly. When they opened again, Lander was right in front of her.
“How...”
She couldn't finish. His arm wrapped around her waist. Before she could process, her body lifted into the air.
What followed was an impact like folding in half, pressure that felt like her eyes would burst, and a landscape that flipped in an instant.
A roar erupted. They had been inside the blast radius, yet in a heartbeat, they were in a safe zone.
Her body screamed in agony, her vision reddened as if every capillary in her eyes had burst, but she was alive.
She tried to speak, but only feeble gasps escaped her open mouth.
“I shielded you, but it still strained your body some. Speech will be tough for now, so focus on breathing.”
Some? Lying on the ground, she rolled her eyes toward Lander. His clothes were a mess, but he bore no wounds.
Was even that despair-inducing magic nothing to this man?
She was starting to lose track of who the real monster was.
A groan came from beside her. She turned her stiff neck. It was that woman—the mage who had cast on Lander.
Her torn-open chest had healed into a grotesque scar. She rasped as if on her last breath, but she was alive.
“I tried to block them all, but it was beyond my ability.”
Lander said, narrowing his eyes. Ariel marshaled her strength and pushed herself up. Lander supported her back with his hand.
Several of the entrances to the Think Tank had been destroyed, exposing the depths below. But the underground barrier walls stood firm.
Walls that could withstand such blasts. She witnessed with her own eyes why the Empire posted no guards here.
“Whoever orchestrated this probably didn't expect the barriers to hold like that. Looks like they planned to blow up a few Think Tanks.”
Ariel caught her breath and spoke slowly.
“Nothing's certain yet. It's frustrating not knowing the enemy's intentions. But we did catch one lead.”
Lander said. She nodded. The old woman beside them, gasping for air, narrowed her eyes to slits.
“Kill me. I'll wait for you in a world without pain...”
“Sorry, but now that we've got you, an easy death is off the table. Especially here in the Emperor's front yard. That man isn't humane enough to let his enemies go gently.”
Ariel studied the woman's face. She'd seemed a monstrous spellcaster, but up close, she was just an ordinary person. Nothing special, much like herself.
It was eerie. What had driven them to this?
She glanced at Lander beside her and said,
“Forget what I just said. I don't want to be dragged off for lese-majeste. I wasn't thinking straight.”
“Understood.”
For some reason, Lander smiled.
Did he hate the Emperor too? Or were they close? Not likely, of course.
Her head spun. Right in the middle of a battlefield, yet she felt an odd sense of relief. She stared at Lander for a moment, then closed her eyes.
With this man beside her, everything would work out somehow. That's what she felt.