Chapter 122: The Half-Baked Magus (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 122: The Half-Baked Magus (1)
Ultimately, Seolrang and Alon took down the monster together.
Seolrang’s overwhelming power was certainly formidable enough to brutally toy with the creature. However, the Outer God’s unnaturally fast regenerative abilities allowed its persistent life force to endure.
As the battle dragged on, Alon—who had identified the creature's weak point using the Necklace of the Eye Eater—pierced the human-shaped core hidden beneath the monster's mouth, finally putting an end to it.
By the time the dark night passed and the dawn began to break:
"Thank you. Thank you so, so much."
In the half-destroyed lord’s castle, Alon stood before a man. It was the eldest son of Count Lumiere, bowing his head so low he was nearly on his knees.
No, Alon corrected himself. Since Count Lumiere had met his end at the ball hosted by Duke Comallon, this man was now effectively the Count. Alon shifted his gaze past him toward the rear of the ruined castle.
He saw the residents who had lost their homes, soldiers groaning in agony, and a territory that had been utterly devastated. While a few spots remained intact, they were the exception. The entire landscape was on the verge of becoming a total ruin.
Watching this, Alon let out a quiet sigh. Soon after, he received a detailed report on the situation in the Ashtalon Kingdom from the Count.
"…Duke Comallon is leading Outer Gods around?"
"Yes."
"And the Outer God that was here is also one of those released by the Duke?"
"…That is correct."
"Where did he head?"
"I don't know the details, but considering the direction he was moving, it seems he was heading toward the territory of Duke Merkillan."
The Count wore a grief-stricken expression. Alon nodded.
"Thank you for telling me."
"I will make sure to repay this debt…!"
As Count Lumiere repeatedly swore his gratitude, Alon turned to leave.
"Ah! Mentor!"
He soon spotted Seolrang, who was currently the object of the knights' absolute awe. However, there was something peculiar about the scene.
"Let go! If you carry me like this, it ruins my royal dignity!"
A man was dangling(?) from one of her hands.
The man, his face covered in soot, was struggling desperately to get back on his feet, clearly embarrassed at being held by the scruff of his neck. Alon looked at him and asked:
"…Who is he?"
"Oh, this?"
"Don't call me 'this'! I am royalty! I am Karsem, royalty of Colony!"
Royalty of Colony.
Alon let out a soft exclamation as he recalled the information in his head.
'Was it… Karsem the Troublemaker?'
The 2nd Prince of Colony, Karsem the Troublemaker. In Psychedelia, he was introduced with that general vibe, and naturally, he wasn't a major character. In the game, true to his nickname, he mostly appeared as someone who caused various accidents that the protagonist's party had to clean up.
After a moment of thought, Alon looked at Karsem. His behavior certainly didn't seem very "royal," especially since he was covered in soot from head to toe.
"Hey! You! Show some respect!"
Karsem pointed a finger at Alon, seemingly needing a target to vent the anger he'd accumulated from the humiliation Seolrang had put him through. Alon made a strange face.
It was true that Karsem deserved the etiquette due to royalty, but given his nickname and the fact that he was evaluated as arrogant in the game, he was indeed quite rude in person.
Of course, it was somewhat understandable. He hadn't even reached the age of twenty yet. Furthermore, unlike other royal families, the 1st Prince had been groomed as the next king since childhood, meaning the 2nd Prince had essentially been neglected in terms of succession training.
Just as Alon was about to bow his head, thinking it was still right to show courtesy:
"Mentor! Wait a second!"
"Waaaah—!"
Seolrang suddenly grabbed Karsem by the neck and dragged him behind a collapsed house.
"…?"
Alon wore a puzzled expression for a moment, but then:
"Sorry, Mentor! There was something I forgot to tell him!"
Seolrang walked back out with Karsem, looking much friendlier than before. And then:
"A-Ah, greetings, Marquis Palatio. I… I have committed a discourtesy… Ha… Hahaha."
"…??"
Alon was baffled by Karsem’s suddenly, excessively polite attitude. But then he saw it.
The faint trace of terror lingering in Karsem’s eyes.
"…."
Alon looked at Seolrang. Her tail wagged gently. She was looking at him with an impossibly innocent, beaming smile.
…Alon felt a strange sense of dread.
* * *
"…Did you come to Ashtalon to rescue Karsem?"
"Hmm, half-right?"
A short while later, Alon heard the reason why Seolrang had come here.
"I already had things to do, and the King asked me to save him while I was at it—but Mentor? Why are you looking at me like that?"
Seolrang tilted her head curiously, and Alon answered her.
"No, I just thought you were being quite obedient to the King."
Of course, in this world, listening to the King was common sense. But having seen what he had recently, Alon had spoken without thinking. He suddenly recalled the martial prowess Seolrang had displayed the previous night.
'…Honestly, with that much power, it wouldn't even matter if she ignored the King.'
Thinking that far, Alon looked at Seolrang anew. He was well aware that she was strong. He also knew, from Deus’s recent actions, that the talents of the Five Great Sins were extraordinary.
Even so, the power Seolrang showed yesterday clearly transcended the power of the Babayaga he knew.
'Well, Deus is the same in terms of transcending expectations.'
The moment Alon recalled the sight of Deus subjugating Basiliora:
"I was promised something good!"
Seolrang’s answer pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Is that so…?"
"Yep! Since I had things to do anyway, I accepted!"
Looking at Seolrang, whose face was filled with an "Aren't I good?!" expression, Alon reached out and stroked her head.
"Ehe—"
Her tail wagged vigorously, clearly enjoying the attention. As he continued to pet her, a strange sound came from the side.
Turning his head, he saw Karsem, who had been scowling just moments ago, now wearing a look of pure horror. It was the face of someone witnessing something that should never, ever happen.
Alon wondered why he was acting like that, but then asked:
"So, is your work here finished?"
"Hmm—I guess? Oh—come to think of it, why are you here, Mentor?"
Seolrang, who was now making a purring sound, asked.
"I came to stop Duke Comallon."
"Duke Comallon?"
"Yes. It's a shame, but we should part wa—"
"I see! Then let's go together!"
Seolrang replied brightly before Alon could even finish his sentence.
"…You're coming with me?"
"Yep!"
"I hate to say this, but it's going to be quite dangerous."
"I know! That's why I'm going!"
"…Because of that?"
"Yes! Because I have to protect you, Mentor!"
"……"
"I'll protect you, Mentor!"
Seolrang puffed out her cheeks and clenched her fists. Seeing her eyes looking straight at him, completely disregarding any sense of self-interest, Alon felt a sudden pang in his chest.
'…Is this why people say you have to have a daughter?'
He suddenly remembered the eighteen reasons why one must have a daughter, a topic his friend—who had gotten married at twenty due to an unplanned pregnancy—had passionately lectured him on.
…Of course, that guy’s daughter was still a child who hadn't even started elementary school, but Alon felt like he finally understood why he’d said those things. Just hearing Seolrang’s words made his heart feel warm and full.
Alon unconsciously began stroking Seolrang’s head with both hands.
"!"
Seolrang seemed surprised for a moment, but then she leaned into his touch, looking even happier.
…His heart felt warm.
"…."
Of course, unlike Alon, who was basking in this warmth, Karsem’s expression was contorting further and further. But that only lasted a moment.
"But will it be alright?"
"Hmm? About what, Mentor?"
"…Shouldn't you finish your original task first?"
Alon gestured toward Karsem. The prince, who had been silent until now, spoke up hurriedly.
"I—I think so too. I believe taking me back to Colony first should be the priority."
Though he had reverted from polite speech to informal, the confidence he’d shown earlier was gone, replaced by a timid stutter. Alon wondered what on earth Seolrang had done to him, but then:
"We can just stop by there on the way, right?"
"…No matter how I think about it, that place is dangerous."
"Just don't die, then."
"…Well, that's true, but still—"
Karsem looked extremely uncomfortable. At that, Seolrang turned her body slightly, turning her back to Alon, and stared intently at Karsem—
"…Ahem—cough, cough. Fine. Let's do that."
Karsem immediately changed his tune.
"He says it's okay, Mentor!"
…Once again, Seolrang had made the impossible possible.
Anyway, about an hour later, Alon set off with Seolrang toward the Merkillan Duchy, where Duke Comallon was said to be heading. At the same time:
"Marquis."
"What is it?"
"Earlier, you said you were curious about what Seolrang did when her back was turned, right?"
"I did, but why?"
"I saw it."
"…When?"
"I saw it just as I was moving in that direction."
"So, what was it?"
"…Well, she didn't exactly make a scary face. She whispered something."
"What did she say?"
"…To be honest, I was watching from a distance so I couldn't see perfectly, but it was something like—"
Evan hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"…'Did this bastard forget my temper?'"
"…Seolrang said that?"
"Uh—I might have misread it since I was far away, but that was the general vibe."
At those words, Alon’s face went blank.
…Honestly, it was hard to believe, but given Karsem’s reaction, it seemed plausible. Alon couldn't shake that strange expression for quite a while.
* * *
Philian Merkillan was an undeniable genius.
Within the borders of Ashtalon, he was the youngest Sword Master, and despite his youth, he was effectively one of the top three strongest individuals in the kingdom.
Of course, he had recently encountered a being on an entirely different level, Deus Macallian, but Philian Merkillan had not been broken. No, using the memory of that crushing defeat as a stepping stone, he had grown even faster over the past few months. His talent made such a feat possible.
However, despite having faced such an overwhelming existence without ever thinking of giving up, Philian was now…
"…Ha."
For the first time, he was learning the emotions of futility and surrender.
Before him, with the territory at his back, a gruesome scene unfolded.
All he could see were corpses.
Corpses missing their upper halves.
Corpses split down the middle.
Corpses hacked to pieces.
Corpses with limbs dismantled, leaving only torsos.
Corpses. Corpses. Corpses.
No matter where he looked, all he saw were bodies. Whether they were knights, soldiers, or mages, everything before his eyes was merely a corpse.
And in front of those corpses…
Pandemonium was unfolding.
A massive patchwork monstrosity made of stitched human skin, its entire body covered in the faces of men, chewed on humans with hideous teeth.
An insectoid creature with the carapace of a giant beetle spread its massive wings, massacring soldiers.
On one side, a turtle-like entity carrying a giant plant on its back—arranged as if with human arms and legs—absorbed red blood through its mouth.
Beyond them, other unidentified Outer Gods, the likes of which he had never seen in his life, were reaping lives as if firing volleys of incomprehensible death.
In a gray world where ominous, sinister red mana was spreading:
"…."
Philian unconsciously lowered his gaze. He saw his armor, ruined and mangled, and his broken sword. And his right arm, twisted at an impossible angle.
Philian let out another low, hollow laugh and raised his eyes to look ahead.
"…This is just cheating…."
At the end of his vision, he saw Duke Comallon.
The only one among the Outer Gods of this Pandemonium who maintained a human form, watching the situation with indifference, as if he felt nothing at all.
The man who was presumably the root cause of all this.
■■■■■■■■■■—!
At the sound of a violent roar, Philian turned his gaze forward.
There, the turtle that had created flowers out of human limbs was approaching to take Philian’s life.
Thump—! Thump—!
Slowly, but surely.
All that came out was a hollow laugh. Then:
"Brother! Run away!"
At the sudden sound, he looked up at the castle wall. There stood the soldiers defending the wall. Each one of them looked pitiful, barely standing while consumed by terror.
Beside them, the eyes of his younger brother, who had rushed out with him to stop the Outer Gods, were also swallowed by despair.
And yet.
Even so, his brother, Merkillan Gillan, opened his mouth.
"Quickly! Escape! You can make it now! We'll try to buy at least a little time, so if you move now, you can live! Please! Hurry!"
At the desperate voice, Philian wore a blank expression for a moment before letting out a smirk. Then, he stood up.
His body wouldn't move well. Nevertheless, he stood, gripped his broken sword with his left hand, and…
"Everyone—retreat!!!!!!!! Throw down your weapons! Escape through the North Gate!!!"
He shouted with all his might.
"Brother—!!!!"
Gillan’s voice reached him again, but Philian did not answer and instead ran forward. If his brother was smart, he would understand his intent better than anyone.
"Hup—!"
Philian squeezed out every last drop of his remaining mana to manifest his Aura. It was pathetically weak—so weak he wondered if it could even scratch the skin of an Outer God. But for now, it was enough.
Starting to run forward, Philian looked at the Outer God with a smile once again gracing his grim lips.
The probability of winning was 0%. Philian was well aware of that fact. But at this point, probability didn't matter to him.
From the start, his goal wasn't to defeat them, but…
'Just… a little more—!'
To buy even a few more seconds.
Slash—!
Performing an unbelievable feat of skill, Philian sliced through the petals made of limbs that were fired at him. Then, he slashed at the Outer God’s leg.
■■■■■■■■■■—!!!
The Outer God screamed.
For a while, he moved back and forth beneath the creature, inflicting wounds, but…
"!"
The limit came faster than expected.
He looked at his now completely shattered sword and his legs that would no longer move, then raised his gaze.
Filling his vision were hundreds of arms and legs being fired to claim his life. It was a death that was clearly, undeniably certain.
But even in that situation, Philian did not lose his smile. He showed no despair. He simply laughed.
Because he believed he had done the right thing. Because he believed he hadn't given up.
And so, the moment he calmly prepared to accept death—
Crackle—!
—The flash appeared.
"?"
By the time he realized it, Philian was back in front of the castle wall he had rushed out from earlier. Simultaneously, he saw it.
■■■■■—!!!!
A red mist of blood erupted from the body of the massive Outer God that had tried to attack him. Also:
Zap, crackle—!
"Ah—"
Before him stood a girl with fluttering golden hair. The moment he realized who it was:
"Seol, rang?"
Philian unconsciously uttered the name, then looked beside her.
There, next to Seolrang who was emitting a golden flash, stood a man.
From his gray coat, black mana scattered in all directions like drifting sand. He—no—
—Marquis Palatio looked down at Philian with indifference.
"Good work."
Leaving behind that short, low sentence, he walked forward.
■■■■■■—!!!
As if responding to those small footsteps, the Outer Gods scattered throughout the area rushed forward. But the Marquis did not stop.
One step. Then another. He moved forward steadily. And then:
"By the pact of Cargunias, I command."
Philian saw it clearly.
"O sworn ally, manifest."
KABOOOOM—!!!!
At the Marquis’s murmur, a massive snake appeared amidst an immense cloud of dust and a deafening roar—a creature larger than any artificial Outer God.
■■■■■■■■■■■■—!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The only being here that wasn't an artificial creation, but a true entity that had received faith and possessed divinity.
Looking down upon all the artificial Outer Gods.
The descent of the Receiver, Basiliora.