Chapter 218
Chapter 218
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 218
Chapter Title: Traces Left by the Catastrophe (5)
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At the end of the path forged from corpses sat a dilapidated jade throne.
Where the resentment of humanity was directed, a shadow lounged there, propping its chin with one hand and crossing its legs as it perched on the throne. It smiled toward the guest who had come to seek it.
"Welcome."
The shadow spread its arms wide and pronounced the name of the human who had come here in an exaggerated tone.
"Ashen Mage, Raniel van Trias."
Raniel furrowed her brow.
"You know me?"
"Of course I do. Skeval—that overly enthusiastic fool—often spoke of you."
"Spoke of me?"
"He seemed to have quite the grudge. Whenever your name crossed his lips, his jawbones would rattle like crazy."
The shadow's voice was unnaturally calm.
As if it had known from the start that she would come here. Raniel felt an unease stirring from the shadow's nonchalance.
'A madman.'
Raniel's instincts told her as much.
The one seated on that throne now was the madman Cardi had mentioned. That shadow who had introduced itself as the First Madman...
"This place."
The spot where she now stood.
"Did you make it?"
Raniel was certain that the shadow before her had created this hellish scene.
"A question I've heard even centuries ago."
In response to her question, the shadow shrugged. With an air of utter novelty, it let out a short sigh.
"Who else is here but me? Oh, Ashen Mage. Spare me the obvious questions. Giving the same answer to a guest after centuries isn't exactly thrilling, you know."
As the sigh faded, a smile formed at the corners of the shadow's mouth. It extended a hand, pointing at the ground beneath Raniel's feet.
"So."
It tilted its head.
"For you to come this far means you've seen the laws of this place with your own eyes. I'm thrilled beyond words that a fellow scholar of magic has sought me out."
Like an artist unveiling their masterpiece.
Or perhaps like a madman yearning for understanding.
With a smile playing on its lips, it gazed at Raniel. Slowly raising its hand, the madman's finger pointed at her heart, toward the curse pooled there. The madman spoke.
"How did it feel to be raked by human resentment?"
Raniel flinched, her brows knitting tightly.
"That curse that tore apart the soul of a mage as resilient as you... not some entity beyond incomprehensible providence, but..."
The shadow's mouth split into a grin.
"Realizing it was merely human resentment—what do you feel now?"
Raniel saw no value in answering that question. She yanked off her glove with a sharp tug, harder than usual.
"First Prince Isaac."
"A shed skin's name."
One step.
"First Madman."
"A title bestowed by the Great Sage himself. How glorious it was..."
Another step.
"Name doesn't matter anyway..."
Raniel advanced toward the madman.
Stepping over the clawing hands of humans on the floor, pushing past the vibrating stench of decay, she pressed on.
"Let me ask you something."
"Ask away."
An ancient being.
The madman who had birthed the very concept underpinning the Demon King.
Raniel posed her question to this ancient scholar of magic.
"What were you thinking?"
"Thinking about what?"
"What went through your head when you made this? You must have had some idea to create the shadows, some desire to unleash this madness..."
Raniel halted her steps.
Her blue eyes gleamed in the darkness.
"I just can't understand it."
What dwelled in those blue eyes was disgust.
Unable to comprehend from any angle, finding no room for understanding at all, Raniel harbored a disgust toward the shadow before her more intense than ever before.
"Why on earth..."
The screams of humans echoing in her ears.
Tens, hundreds of millions of vengeful spirits clawing at the ground, neither dead nor alive, spewing curses.
"What did you want? What were you trying to achieve to go this far...?"
"Does there have to be a reason?"
"...What?"
The shadow's voice sank cold.
"I asked if there has to be a reason, Ashen Mage."
As if bored.
Or perhaps as if the anticipation of facing one of its own kind had utterly vanished... the shadow spoke in a voice devoid of any warmth.
"Reaching the truth is the goal of every mage."
It said indifferently.
"I merely pursued the truth. What more reason do I need? I thought you'd understand, as a fellow mage."
"...Ah."
Raniel bowed her head.
A smile crept onto her lips.
"Of course."
She lifted her head.
Sweeping back her fallen bangs and rolling up her sleeves, she murmured softly.
Cursed mana.
Ashen mana rose around her body. The shadow, which had been watching Raniel indifferently, trembled with surprise in its empty sockets. Releasing the hand propping its chin, the shadow asked in a voice laced with astonishment.
"...What's that?"
"What else? Something to beat the shit out of bastards like you."
With a sharp stomp, Raniel kicked off the ground.
Trailing ashen flames, she opened her mouth.
"That's what I made it for."
The ashen mana lashed out at the shadow.
2.
Boom, rumble!
The ashen mana struck the corridor. In an attempt to shatter the entire place, Raniel swung her fist, but the result wasn't as spectacular as she'd hoped.
The impact landed.
It destroyed something.
But it felt like scooping a mere handful from an ocean stretching to the horizon. What Raniel had broken was just a tiny fraction.
Countless human grudges.
Countless noises ringing in her ears.
She had erased only one strand among them.
'...In theory, it can be destroyed.'
And she had actually destroyed some.
This special mana, created to combat the Demon King, was undoubtedly effective here too.
'However...'
It lacked absolute output.
Even if she burned this place until her strength ran out, it wouldn't be a fundamental solution. Realizing this, Raniel stared ahead.
"Impressive."
The shadow on the throne.
"Impressive, but..."
The shadow that her fist had struck, dispersed briefly, only to reform instantly.
"It's not enough."
It whispered, wrapping its shadow around Raniel's arm.
"Even the First Hero, Ganikalt, couldn't sever it. Even if he'd completed his curse-cleaving sword at the final moment... he couldn't touch the origin."
The shadow sneered.
"Remnants of the shadow might yield, but not here where the origin exists. Best not to waste your strength, Ashen Mage."
Grinding her teeth, Raniel struck the shadow again. But the result was the same as before. No damage. It merely dispersed.
"I told you it's useless."
The shadow merely sneered.
"I'm personally quite intrigued by this special mana you've developed. Honestly, it's astonishing."
It casually analyzed Raniel's mana.
"Without understanding the shadow, without fully grasping even the origin of the curse... to create such mana. I could almost applaud you."
"Are you mocking me right now...?"
"No mockery. I'm genuinely impressed."
The shadow's voice grew viscous.
"You mimicked what you didn't understand. How? You must have only begun to comprehend the shadow here. Yet this spell feels like something you prepared long ago."
The shadow's empty pupils, its black sockets, pierced into Raniel.
"Like imitating a complex, unfathomable circuit without truly seeing or understanding it. Astonishing. And tragic at the same time."
"What the hell are you...?"
"That you won't live to see it completed."
Raniel's eyes narrowed.
"With completion so close, yet doomed to expire unfinished. How cruel the stars are."
The shadow spoke in a tone of lament.
"Why not join me? I could extend your lifespan as much as you..."
Raniel answered with another swing of her fist. Gazing at the dented throne, the shadow chuckled.
"So prickly. Leading with your fists... you even remind me of my sister."
It knew she wouldn't yield to temptation.
Thus, the shadow dispersed from the throne and stood right beside Raniel. For the first time, the figure that had arrogantly lounged on the throne rose.
"Let me say this upfront: I'm quite favorably disposed toward you."
At those words, Raniel barely suppressed a sigh. Favor? That damn favor.
'Do mad bastards have some kind of bond?'
From the traitor—that crazy bitch—to now even the First Madman claiming goodwill toward her. Naturally, the mad ones' favor never worked in normal ways.
'Probably the same this time.'
Raniel planned to let the shadow's words go in one ear and out the other. But what she heard was impossible to ignore.
"Existing in the limbo between death and life, in an imperfect form, I can never be extinguished. Even if you complete that spell, it'll be the same."
Raniel turned her head.
She looked at the shadow standing beside her.
"I can only be made to vanish by fulfilling special conditions. By binding myself."
The shadow shrugged.
Surprisingly, it voiced the condition itself. Without the slightest hesitation.
"Only the Child of the Stars can kill me."
Child of the Stars.
"One like my sister, bearing radiant starlight... only a child beloved by the stars can crumble my spirit. Impossible for you."
"Why tell me this...?"
"You already know."
The shadow said.
"Fourth Princess Aila."
"......"
"That child you're raising might just be able to kill me."
Raniel couldn't fathom the shadow's intent.
As always with madmen, it merely smiled. Its true thoughts were unknowable.
"Three years, Ashen Mage."
The shadow's mouth split wide.
The voice emerging from the torn lips was soft.
"Three years until humanity's dark age arrives, when starlight weakens most."
The cyclical generational shift of heroes.
"That's the time granted to you, and the time until I move to the next stage."
Why reveal this?
Unable to grasp the reason, Raniel asked. The shadow answered.
"Because humans resisting in the face of encroaching death, desperate to leave something behind, are beautiful."
An incomprehensible reply returned.
Incomprehensible, as befitting one called mad.
"Perhaps it's also praise for you, who gave me a chance to break centuries of silence."
With those words, the shadow dispersed. As if it had never been there to begin with. Where the shadow vanished, something clattered to the ground.
Raniel silently picked up what had fallen.
It was a key.
A key to open a door.
3.
Raniel followed the path behind the throne. The human resentment had gathered at the throne because the shadow sitting there had drawn it in.
With the shadow gone, the curse flowed deeper within. Raniel kept walking.
Continuing along the reeking corridor... she arrived before a firmly shut door. Around the sealed door stood thirty-seven broken pillars.
'A sacred number.'
Pillars broken to desecrate the number thirty-seven.
Slipping through the gaps between them, Raniel approached the door. It had a small keyhole.
Click.
Using the key she'd just found, Raniel unlocked the door. It opened smoothly, and a different stench from before wafted to her nose.
"......"
There lay the answer.
Raniel stood frozen for a long while, staring blankly at the scene inside the room. Only after much time passed did she let out a hollow laugh.
"...Ha."
Why had they resented the stars even as their bodies became neither dead nor alive? How could such a massive death have been concealed?
"Born by human hands."
Raniel murmured.
"But the origin wasn't human alone."
The condition was fulfilled.
Thus, Raniel touched the second truth.
'I've got the answer.'
She felt the traces of the contract binding her tongue root. The same sensation as in the northern tower. Having claimed the right to know the truth, Raniel turned and left the room.
Now, it was time to verify what she had learned.
'Cardi.'
There was much she needed to hear from him. So very much.