Chapter 123: The Half-Baked Magus (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 123: The Half-Baked Magus (2)
As the earth trembles, the eyes of every soldier atop the walls converge on a single point.
Their gaze meets a god who has descended upon this ashen world.
It is not something crafted by human hands.
It is a god born from the swirling dust, existing purely as a true, absolute entity.
■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■—!!!
Along with its appearance comes the monstrous shriek of Basiliora.
A thunderous cry rings out, instilling awe in the soldiers and striking terror into the artificial outer gods. As the dust scatters in every direction, the soldiers—despite standing atop the high walls—are forced to look up once more to witness the divine form.
Krr-rr-rr-ack—!!!
Basiliora’s massive frame moves.
It lunges toward the turtle-shaped outer god that had been charging the wall only moments ago.
In an instant, Basiliora begins to coil its body around the creature.
■■■■■■—!
The artificial outer god screams at the top of its lungs the moment it is ensnared.
The soldiers stand dazed, lost in the spectacle. A battle between monsters that seemed to belong only in the realm of ancient myth was unfolding right before their eyes.
Some stood with mouths agape.
Others wore expressions of pure horror.
And some watched the struggle with eyes full of reverence.
But that moment was fleeting.
■■■■■■■■■■■■—!!!!
The soldiers soon came to a realization.
The scene before them was not a clash of titans from a great myth.
It was.
Quite simply, a "hunt."
Crunch—!
The soldiers stared blankly.
There, the monster ensnared by the great god was being pulverized into nothingness.
The shell that Philian’s attacks couldn't even scratch was crumbling like dry crackers.
The limbs that had pierced through countless knights and soldiers, driving them to despair, were being torn away, scattering a rain of blood.
And then.
Without even the chance to let out a final scream.
The artificial outer god—once a cruel slaughterer—met a pathetic end.
Its bones and hide were thoroughly violated and crushed.
In the ensuing silence.
■■■■■■■■■■■■—!!!!
Basiliora’s roar echoes in all directions.
The very atmosphere vibrates, and a sense of awe spreads among the soldiers.
An undeniable, overwhelming awe.
And then.
"……Marquis Palatio."
Duke Comallon, who had been utterly indifferent until now, frowned and clicked his tongue. It was the signal.
■■■■■■■—!
The battle of the outer gods—
No,
The battle between the real and the fake began.
* * *
Basiliora’s massive body moved frantically among the artificial outer gods, ravaging them.
"Hah!"
Following Alon’s command, Seolrang lunged forward to assist Basiliora, weaving through the artificial outer gods like a golden flash.
Everyone watched the mythic battle in a daze.
But one person.
Only Philian Merkillan was looking elsewhere.
He looked at the man wearing a coat that billowed as if alive, its every fiber surging with black mana.
The man who had called a god his "sworn ally" and summoned it to this land.
The man who had once spouted nonsense, flaunting his supposed ignorance.
At that moment.
‘……Fourteen minutes left. No, thirteen now.’
Alon let out a soft sigh. After checking on Basiliora, who was wreaking havoc among the outer gods, he looked down at the bracelet on his right hand.
The "Hand of the Wanderer" he had obtained from the fairy Tobet.
And the "White Hand of the Wanderer" found in the Hermit’s Hideout.
The symbol of the "Salvation of the Wanderer," created by combining the two, was glowing with a red light.
‘It’s a shame there’s a time limit. Well—without this, I wouldn't have even dreamed of summoning it.’
The Ring of Cargunias' Pact allowed him to unconditionally subjugate and summon a target.
However, the drawback was that the stronger the subjugated target, the more mana was required for the summoning.
In other words, under normal circumstances, it should have been impossible for Alon to summon Basiliora with his mana capacity—perhaps a spirit form, but never the physical entity.
In fact, only someone of a Tower Master’s caliber would possess enough mana to summon Basiliora.
Even for them, the drain would be so immense that mana depletion would be inevitable.
Essentially, this ring containing Basiliora was unusable.
That is, if not for the "Salvation of the Wanderer," which allowed the use of any artifact for exactly fifteen minutes without any mana restrictions.
‘Originally, neither the Pact Ring nor the Salvation of the Wanderer were artifacts meant to be used at this stage. I had other plans for them later.’
But this wasn't a game.
Ending his brief thought, Alon turned his gaze from Basiliora to Duke Comallon.
He knew the Duke was quite old, but…
Duke Comallon looked remarkably young.
If he hadn't been standing among the outer gods, Alon might not have recognized him immediately.
His youthful appearance made him look like any ordinary noble, but Alon did not lower his guard. He quietly formed a seal.
At that moment.
"As I thought, are you also a half-measure like me?"
Duke Comallon, who had been silent until now, spoke.
"……What?"
Alon asked, puzzled.
Duke Comallon let out a light sigh and followed up with a question.
"From the moment you took the Spirit Dragon’s egg, and especially since you are wearing that bracelet, I had a suspicion. However, I do not understand why you are trying to stop me. Why?"
"……."
Alon remained silent. Part of it was because he didn't understand what the Duke was talking about, but he was also contemplating how to interpret his words.
He hesitated for a fraction of a second on how to respond.
"Well, there is no need to answer."
Duke Comallon didn't even wait that long.
"I do not know your reasons for interfering despite knowing the tragedy that awaits, but—"
He continued.
"If you stand in my way, I will simply break you."
"!"
The Duke formed a seal.
"Diffraction—!"
"Start."
Alon also formed a seal and uttered the Phrase.
The battle of mages began.
* * *
To be honest, Alon was at a clear disadvantage in a magical duel.
Many things were important in a battle between mages, but above all else was the speed of manifestation.
For Alon, who had to use both Phrases and seals, a duel against another mage was inherently unfavorable. However, he thought this time would be different.
For some reason, Duke Comallon was also using seals and Phrases.
Since both were under the same constraints, Alon inwardly thought the risks were equal.
But that was a miscalculation.
"Acceleration."
"!"
The moment he heard the Duke’s voice, Alon realized the man was already in front of him. He opened his mouth.
"Severe Cold."
The ground around them instantly froze into a tundra, and frost began to climb up Duke Comallon’s legs.
Crack—!
The Duke shattered the ice effortlessly. He formed a seal with his left hand and recited the Phrases.
"Deployment, Dispersion, Full Bloom, Spiral."
"!"
Alon was shocked.
‘So fast—!’
Essentially, a "Phrase" is used to twist the laws of magic, and it takes time for a single Phrase to warp a law.
If one recites another Phrase while the first is still warping the law, the manifestation of the magic could collapse entirely.
This was why Alon always left a slight gap between Phrases.
It was to ensure the manifestation didn't get tangled as the laws were twisted.
Yet, the Duke before him recited the Phrases and completed the magic so quickly it was as if he were ignoring that time requirement entirely.
It was a total negation of the inherent weakness of using Phrases.
In that split second of thought.
Five spheres, formed at the tips of the Duke’s fingers on his right hand, were fired toward Alon at point-blank range in a spiral pattern.
However.
"Freezing."
The moment the magic was launched, Alon linked it with "Severe Cold" and shouted the Phrase, freezing the incoming spell.
"Acceleration."
He then sent the frozen magic back at the Duke.
But by then, Duke Comallon had already moved out of the spell's range.
Realizing the Duke had moved to the right, Alon immediately formed another seal.
"Compression, One Point, Emission."
"Fixation, Deployment, Scattering."
As the magic manifested.
Phrases burst from both their mouths, twisting the laws.
And then.
Boom—!
It was Alon who was sent flying.
"Fixation."
As he tumbled violently across the ground, Alon manifested a shield in that split second.
His rolling body was forcibly brought to a halt.
However—
Shatter—!
As if he had anticipated this, a spiraling ice spear flew toward him, piercing through his shield without hesitation.
"!"
Seeing this, Alon gritted his teeth.
* * *
K-boom—!
Alon, who had rolled across the ground, quickly stood up and faced Duke Comallon.
Unlike himself, whose coat was now a tattered mess, Duke Comallon looked perfectly composed.
A total of fifteen magical manifestations.
Out of those fifteen, Alon had won only once.
Even then, it had only grazed the Duke’s collar. In reality, Alon’s magic wasn't reaching him.
No, to be precise, it wasn't that it didn't work.
‘……His manifestation speed is too high.’
Duke Comallon was simply too fast.
Alon couldn't win by merely looking one or two steps ahead.
And that wasn't the only disadvantage.
The speed of forming seals, the sheer power of the magic despite that speed.
The Duke’s mana capacity, which far exceeded Alon’s even though Alon’s had grown significantly.
Furthermore, the ability to look even further ahead in the battle.
The Duke held the overwhelming advantage in every category.
It wasn't even a fight.
Alon turned his gaze toward Basiliora and Seolrang.
■■■■■■■■■■—!!!!
Three artificial outer gods were already gruesome corpses, but the battle there was still in full swing.
"You seem to be hoping for help, but it is futile."
As Alon watched Basiliora, Duke Comallon spoke calmly.
"Before they can come to your aid, you will be dead."
He formed a seal.
"Fixation, Deployment, Scattering."
Five spheres formed at the tips of his outstretched right hand.
But he didn't stop there. The Duke whispered once more.
"Dispersion."
With that, the spheres on his fingers floated into the air and began to multiply.
From five to ten.
Ten to twenty.
Twenty to forty.
Forty to eighty.
The number continued to grow without end.
What was created.
Was a milky way floating in the ashen sky.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of spheres shone brilliantly against the gray backdrop.
It was a sight so overwhelming and majestic that even the soldiers, who had been staring blankly at the mythic battle, were forced to turn their heads.
And then.
"Ejection."
The moment Duke Comallon uttered the final Phrase, signaling Alon’s end.
The milky way began to fall.
"—"
Thousands of brilliant stars descended toward the earth, illuminating Alon’s face as he looked up at the sky.
It was a sight so overwhelming that anyone else would have dropped their weapon and accepted death.
The cluster of light converged into a single point, targeting Alon.
"No—!"
Philian, watching from afar, cried out instinctively. But Alon, staring at the falling milky way, was calm.
In fact, Alon—
‘Now.’
—had been waiting for this exact moment.
"Acceleration."
With a thunderous Boom!, his body was propelled forward.
He had simply tried to mimic the array he had seen Duke Comallon use, so the manifestation failed and exploded, but that was enough.
As long as it moved him forward.
"!"
Alon looked at Duke Comallon.
The Duke’s face seemed devoid of emotion.
But his wide eyes suggested he was, at least slightly, caught off guard.
"Refraction."
Alon had been waiting for this since his fifth magical manifestation.
From that point on, he had given up on trying to beat the Duke with magic alone.
The Duke’s magic clearly surpassed his own—no, it surpassed "magic itself."
"Repulsion."
So, from then on, Alon had intentionally set the stage.
He didn't dodge attacks he could have dodged.
He didn't counter attacks he could have countered.
"Clear Light."
He minimized the damage and waited for the optimal moment.
The moment the Duke let his guard down.
The moment he became overconfident.
"Linear—"
The moment Alon could reveal his hidden trump card.
Behind Alon, the chilling sound of the milky way grinding into the earth echoed.
At the same time, a brilliant blue light flared from the seal in front of him.
"—Diffraction."
As the final words rang out, Alon flicked his finger toward the startled Duke Comallon.
K-boom—!!!
A bolt of lightning, moving at monstrous speed, reached Duke Comallon in an instant.
However—
The moment the lightning was about to strike the Duke’s heart.
"Acceleration."
Duke Comallon twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the blue bolt.
Zap—!
The magic grazed past him and vanished into nothingness.
"Ah—"
Philian and the soldiers watching let out low groans of disappointment.
A flicker of relief and triumph appeared in Duke Comallon’s indifferent eyes.
A clear intersection of joy and sorrow.
But Alon, who had aimed for this final move, remained serene.
He had assumed from the start that Duke Comallon would evade the spell.
"Whew—"
Because he had prepared for what came next.
Crackle—!
"!"
At the sound of electricity surging, Duke Comallon looked behind him.
There, he saw two brilliant bursts of blue light, shining more radiantly than anything else.
The Duke’s expression contorted in confusion, but Alon smiled behind his expressionless mask.
That was it.
The final move Alon had prepared.
A unique trait obtainable upon reaching the 4th Tier in Psychedelia.
By prefixing a spiral mana array to a spell, one could manifest magic limited to areas where their own mana residue remained.
Multiple Manifestation.
"—!"
The Duke twisted his body again as he spotted the light.
But the Clear Light had already been fired.
K-BOOM—!
The ashen world was dyed blue once more.