Chapter 326
Chapter 326
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 326
Chapter Title: Overturn the Board (4)
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◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The fallen ancient kingdom, Arcadia.
The old kingdom that had ushered in humanity's golden age was destroyed by a single human. No one could have imagined it. That the calamity brought by one person would devour half the world.
A human had summoned the calamity.
A human had created a false god.
The human who birthed a god that should never exist was branded with the derogatory title of Madman. Thus, the first Madman lost everything.
The stars raged at him.
The stars were one with the heavens, so the Madman incurred the wrath of the sky. Heavenly punishment fell upon the Madman.
The Madman lost his name.
Having lost his name, he lost his form; having lost his form, he could no longer possess a body. For the nameless, flesh was forbidden.
A being that could no longer be called by name.
A soul shattered by the blade of the first Hero, a body crumbled to dust. Yet the being that refused to accept death lurked in the deepest shadows of human history.
He was a prince, a princess, a king, and a treacherous advisor who toyed with kings at whim.
The Madman, who existed everywhere and nowhere, endured centuries of time. It was a boring, tedious span, but the Madman harbored one purpose. To achieve it, he bore the monotonous life.
And now.
After centuries, the Madman took his first step.
Tap.
A footstep echoed in the deepest darkness of the mage tower's top floor. The Madman, borrowing a human body, walked. With each step, his form shifted. Enshrouded in shadows, he was a dying old man, a boy just beginning life, and a young man.
"What a joke."
The Madman glared at the body he had borrowed.
It was an old man's body. The old man had firmly believed he had time left. But that was merely the old man's delusion.
It had all been mere play.
The Madman had sought to savor the despair of the girl who would realize that her father and master had sacrificed himself—for no one other than the Madman himself. He had planned to slip into that crack of her despair and turn her.
"But now..."
It wouldn't work.
She already seemed resolved.
"A pity. Such a pity."
With that goal thwarted, there was no need to keep promises now. The Madman clicked his tongue with a short tsk and moved forward.
"You've been a hindrance, Ashen One."
He could now understand the plight of that pitiful skeletal mage who wailed for the Ashen One day after day, scraping at its skull. With such thoughts, the Madman chuckled.
This new body was delectable.
The realm achieved by an old man awaiting death was no light matter. The Madman devoured the knowledge accumulated by that one human with ravenous greed.
"He truly cherished you, didn't he?"
The Madman tilted his head back.
His eyes, gazing at Resti bound in shadows, gleamed with ecstasy. Resti gritted her teeth and glared at the Madman.
"A chilling gaze. It reminds me of that elf. It seems all who inherit the Ashen legacy have eyes like that."
The Madman chuckled.
As he laughed, he seized Resti's chin. His glistening eyes stared straight into hers—eyes that seemed to suck one in.
The madness dwelling within those eyes whispered.
"The reason I chose this tower out of so many... was because of that great sage."
That damned great sage.
Those loathsome eyes.
With torn lips, the Madman continued.
"Using the hands of you Ashen mages in this tower he founded, who carry his will... I shall defy the heavens once more."
He released Resti's chin.
Turning his back to her, he stepped away.
As he walked, he clenched his hand in the air.
Thud!
The shadows rippled, and something was yanked from within. It was a grotesquely twisted human torso. Withered and contorted, it still lived. Unable to die, it clawed at the empty air.
As if cursing something.
The moment Resti saw it, her eyes shook violently. Something incomprehensible. Something that should not exist. Merely facing it caused blood to pour from her eyes, nose, and mouth.
Drip, drip. As blood streamed down, Resti's mind grew faint. In her blurring vision, she heard the Madman's whisper.
"Today, in this place, providence shall be overturned."
The board flips.
Providence crumbles.
So the Madman declared.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 2.
The top floor of the mage tower, steeped in shadows.
At the pinnacle of the tower bearing the name Ashen, the Madman peered down at the land from beneath the shattered window. The world in his view was far too peaceful.
Unlike the ancient days when all trembled in fear.
Compared to that era when countless heroes were born from terror, the current world was unbearably dull.
"Countless shone brilliantly."
And also.
"An era when all that light was lost."
An age gripped by madness.
The Madman longed for that insane era.
He reminisced about the time when countless humans despaired and screamed.
The time to return to that era had come.
The Madman took his first step toward it.
Thud.
The Madman stomped his foot.
The moment he did, the spreading shadows engulfed the mage tower. The shadows descending from the top floor wrapped around it like roots taking hold.
⚙ PROPHECY ACTIVATED ⚙ "On the day a black pillar rises in the heart of the royal capital, your guiding leader shall appear." The moment to activate the prophecies scattered among countless traitors had arrived. The Madman cried out.
"Rise up." His voice spread.
The seeds the Madman had sown sprouted.
Outside the royal capital.
Beneath the royal capital.
Beneath the flowing waterways.
Countless responded to the revelation.
The myriad small distortions hidden in the capital over long years erupted all at once. Hundreds of traitors, shamans who had preached doom, rose up.
Thud, boom!
The ground quaked.
Beasts burst from below, and the passages crafted by sacrificing hundreds of humans opened here. The demon horde poured forth.
The royal capital descended into chaos.
Merely watching it was enjoyable, but it wasn't enough. This alone couldn't birth despair like the ancient days. It was mere deception.
Crack.
The Madman hurled the twisted torso in his hand to the floor. Then, stomping its back, he began carving circuits into the ground.
Ancient circuits were etched.
As he carved, the Madman muttered joyfully.
"This makes the second one."
With each stroke added to the circuit, the surrounding space warped. Providence screamed. Filth surged madly, overflowing. The flooded sludge flowed down the tower's exterior.
From here, it was a race against time.
As he carved, the Madman glanced back.
There stood a guest arrived through the cracks in crumbling providence. Gazing at the guest, the Madman chuckled.
"You arrived right on time."
An ancient mage who had lived centuries.
One who dreamed the same goal as he.
Glaring at the ancient lich, Skeval, the Madman said.
"You know your role, I trust?"
"I know it." "Can you manage it?"
To that question, Skeval silently fluttered his robe. Seeing what clung to the hood-like robe, the Madman's lips tore into a grin.
"Skeval, my friend, you've come with teeth bared."
Skeval did not reply to the Madman's laughter.
The ancient mage who had lived centuries floated out the broken window. Skeval did not forget the role assigned to him. He spread both arms in the air.
"Today, in this place." Skeval spread his arms.
The beasts erupting from below halted en masse. Even the knights who had rushed into the streets to stop them froze, staring skyward.
Floating in the sky was the ancient lich.
One of the Four Calamities.
Humanity trembled before the calamity manifest in the capital's heart. The beasts cheered the arrival of their lord. Amid terror and ecstasy, Skeval slowly descended toward the ground.
He had a role.
Until the Madman completed the ritual, eliminate all interferences reaching this place. That was the role Skeval had chosen. To fulfill it, there was one he must confront.
The one who would race here.
The greatest variable in this plan.
"I will kill the Ashen One." To eliminate that variable, Skeval opened his eyes.
Dark blue glows flickered ominously.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ 3.
The royal capital was engulfed in chaos.
Beasts surging here and there, traitors bursting forth—the city center was pandemonium. And above, a calamity floated in the sky. Skeval drew circuits in the air, but no knight capable of stopping him was present.
Yet they could not simply stand idle.
The gathered knights did what they could. They bought time until someone who could resolve the calamity—the root of this crisis—arrived, minimizing damage. For that, the knights moved.
"Block them!"
They plugged the surging beasts and picked off the spellcasters and shamans one by one.
"Hold the line! Maintain formation!"
"Support the knights!"
Helpers joined them.
Mages from the Black Mage Tower emerged into the streets to aid the knights. They slowly subdued the rampaging horde, but no end was in sight.
They kept coming.
The traitors darting among them were no easy foes even for knights. While multiple knights pinned one traitor, casualties mounted.
Screams echoed.
The stench of beasts vibrated.
The smell of blood wafted.
The knights gritted their teeth to hold back the beasts, but they yielded ground bit by bit to the endless horde. Just as the formation began to crumble.
Rustle.
Suddenly, snowflakes began to drift over the beasts.
Snow in midsummer was unheard of. As knights blinked at the anomaly, one with sharp eyes pointed at the drifting flakes and shouted.
"It's not snow—it's ash..."
Before he finished, the ash drifting over the beasts erupted in blinding light. A flash swept the area, followed a beat later by a roar.
KABOOOOOM!
The beasts caught in the explosion vanished without trace.
Heat lingered, haze and smoke rising. Parting it, someone approached.
Step, step.
As the smoke cleared, a woman with ash-gray hair fluttering appeared. No knight present was ignorant of her name.
Heir to the Ashen Mage.
The Guide, Lania van Trias.
She walked straight ahead.
The knights silently parted. They cleared her path. She strode along the way they made. Her steps led to the Ashen Mage Tower.
She marched straight toward the calamity.
Watching her back, the knights thrust spears and swords at the resurging beasts. A hero moved to halt the calamity. Then they too must fulfill their roles.
With the hero's appearance, the knights' morale soared.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Raniel walked through the chaotic royal capital.
The incident had erupted faster and on a grander scale than she had anticipated. Her expression was rigidly set. With each step she took, ash swirled madly around her.
She had misthought, misjudged.
She would bear that responsibility.
After walking some distance, she halted before the Ashen Mage Tower. Stopping, she looked up.
"Ha... seriously..."
Raniel let out a hollow laugh.
"You again? I'm starting to get attached at this rate."
"......" Skeval silently clapped his hands together.
Hundreds of circuits lit up in the air. As the circuits piled by the ancient lich blazed, Raniel's expression didn't change a whit.
Skeval looked down at Raniel.
The Ashen Mage.
The loathsome Ashen who had blocked him time and again, ruining plans. A mage who had lived but a handful of years compared to him, yet bent him to her will repeatedly. Skeval mulled her name.
Raniel van Trias.
Skeval felt rage toward the Ashen Mage.
And fear alongside it.
The mage who never fell, never died, never yielded, seizing victory to the end—Skeval now feared her. Until now, he hadn't admitted that fear...
"I admit it." In this moment, Skeval acknowledged his terror.
He spread both arms wide.
"Since I admit it, I will block you with all my power." The ancient lich's voice echoed.
"I will kill you here, Ashen One." Below the bellowing Skeval, as if he were a hero burning his own body, Raniel brushed her eyes.
"Kill me?"
Her voice trembled faintly.
"You? Me?"
Not with fear, but scorn.
"Think you can?"
Scoffing, Raniel stepped forward. Surging ash enveloped the area.