Chapter 244: Enlightenment (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 244: Enlightenment (1)
The Underground.
Located beneath the wasteland at the southern tip of the United Kingdoms.
A place where not even a single ray of light penetrates.
In this realm where only Hungry Ghosts exist, they should have been rampaging, tearing each other apart for food.
In fact, they already were.
The newly created leader had been killed by someone only a few days prior, and the Hungry Ghosts had regained their primal instincts.
Because of that, they had resumed their endless cycle of slaughter.
"It" had also joined this survival-of-the-fittest struggle, devouring its own kind.
Until she appeared.
The Hungry Ghosts, mid-slaughter, instantly sensed the presence of intruders who had descended into the depths. They ceased their fighting and turned as one toward a single direction.
A beastkin stood there.
A beastkin with golden eyes that shone brilliantly even amidst the abyss.
The moment they spotted her, the Hungry Ghosts lunged at the girl without exception.
Intruders were unwelcome guests.
They were nothing more than nuisances interfering with the process of determining a new leader.
■■■■■■■■■■—!!
■■■■■—!!!
The Hungry Ghosts surged forward, letting out hideous, grating shrieks.
Whether the enemy before them was strong or weak didn't matter.
After all, a Hungry Ghost would continue to resurrect as long as its soul core remained intact.
That was why they—even "It," which had devoured far more of its kind than any other—charged without fear.
However, the Hungry Ghosts that drew near the beastkin were all slaughtered in short order.
The reason was—
Crackle—!!!
The golden lightning that erupted from the beastkin’s body.
That golden light swallowed the Hungry Ghosts whole.
It reduced everything that swarmed around her to nothingness.
Yet, the remaining ghosts did not stop.
Even though hundreds had vanished in an instant, they continued to strike in succession.
In fact, they let out eerie, cackling laughs as they flew toward Seolrang.
As long as the sealing stone remained unbroken, a Hungry Ghost could not be truly extinguished.
It was an endless tug-of-war.
The Hungry Ghosts charged incessantly.
The erupting lightning obliterated them.
Then.
"…I heard. That I only need to destroy the sealing stone."
Seolrang spoke, her brilliant golden eyes flashing.
"But I don't want to kill you that easily."
Quietly,
"…You lot, who killed my Mentor—"
As if making a vow.
"Must die as painfully as possible."
She muttered.
Then.
Snap!
The golden lightning began to stain black.
Crackle—!!!
The air filling the Underground surged violently. The moment the viscous black lightning shot out in all directions, the Hungry Ghosts that had been charging like madmen froze in unison.
It was instinct.
Yes, they would not die as long as the sealing stone was intact.
However, the thousands, tens of thousands of Hungry Ghosts here—creatures so dominated by gluttony that even the slightest shred of intelligence was meaningless, creatures that would snap their jaws even at their own leader—realized it instinctively.
If they were touched by that black lightning—
Something that only the "Black Things" that created the Hungry Ghosts could emit—
They would be utterly annihilated.
And.
"As painfully—"
From amidst the black lightning, those deeply sunken golden eyes glared at the ghosts.
"—as possible."
Her haughty, merciless gaze shone sharply.
* * *
"Tsk—as I thought, it’s no use."
A few hours had passed since Alon’s return.
Breaking the silence that had lingered for a while, a small murmur reached Alon’s ears.
"Of course it wouldn't work. It was impossible from the start for someone who isn't a Magus to use an object that only Magi can handle."
"Tell me about it."
"At this point, isn't she just too embarrassed to come down? I heard she confidently asked to be shown the Agathon."
"More like she’s too scared to come down. She spoke so boldly about being able to operate the Agathon, but if she fails, the higher-ups who were expecting results will be furious."
The whispers of the soldiers.
Alon looked around.
The atmosphere among the kings had certainly shifted.
At first, their faces had been filled with anticipation.
Though they tried their best to hide it, disappointment was now plain for anyone to see.
The blacksmiths who had restored the Agathon to a functional state felt the same.
"Is it truly impossible after all—"
"I wondered if it might be different since she was brought by the God of the Frontier, but—"
"What will we do now without the Agathon…?"
Alon, listening to the quiet murmurs, was about to approach Line, who was still standing perfectly still without the slightest movement.
"Ah—"
A small exclamation escaped Line’s lips.
She opened her eyes as if she had realized something.
At the same time.
Vroooom—!!
The hexahedron, which had been motionless until a moment ago, began to tremble violently with an eerie resonance.
Clank, clank, clank!
It began to transform.
The object, which had been small enough to fit in the palm of Alon’s hand, grew massive in an instant.
Then, like a sophisticated machine coming to life.
It began to distort and twist, rapidly forming another massive shape.
"T-That’s impossible—"
"She’s not even a Magus, yet she’s using the Agathon?"
"What in the—"
The skeptical soldiers and blacksmiths all widened their eyes in shock.
"!"
The faces of the kings, who had also been watching Line, were instantly filled with hope.
The Agathon, which had been a small cube just moments ago, had now transformed into the shape of a massive giant cannon.
"Oh—Ooh!"
The atmosphere, previously dominated by doubt and sighs, was instantly reversed.
Amidst everyone’s awe, the revealed Agathon looked alien even to Alon’s eyes.
It was a bizarre appearance that seemed more suited to a future generation than the current world.
Yet, everyone gazed at it without any sense of rejection.
It was because of the strange magic patterns engraved all over the Agathon.
"Wow—holy—what is that magic circle!?"
Penia, standing beside him, let out an exclamation of a slightly different nature.
Line, having deployed the Agathon, pondered for a moment before beginning to question the blacksmiths.
In the meantime.
"Lord Alon."
The kings, their faces beaming with joy, approached Alon.
"I truly thank you. We seem to be receiving nothing but help from you in many ways."
When Surang bowed his head, Alon pointed to his side.
"I think it would be better if you thanked Line, not me."
"I see. However—"
"?"
"By any chance, is Lady Line a Magus?"
It was a cautious question.
Alon recalled what he had heard from Dowon and shook his head.
"She is not."
"I see. Then how did she manage the Agathon—"
Surang looked incredibly fascinated.
He asked another cautious question.
"May I ask one more thing?"
"Please do."
"What is your relationship with Lady Line…?"
Alon wondered why he was curious about that now, but he took a moment to consider how to answer.
Of course, Alon and Line were very close.
However, explaining that relationship to others was a bit ambiguous. Just as he was contemplating.
"I’m his daughter."
Line, having finished her conversation with the blacksmiths, approached and answered for him.
"Right?"
"…Well, I suppose so."
When Line sought his agreement, Alon nodded for the time being.
At this, Surang said, "Oh—" looking quite impressed.
"You are the God of the Frontier, yet you have a daughter—you must have had her at a very young age."
Surang nodded as if he understood.
…It felt like he was making a ridiculous misunderstanding.
But Alon didn't bother to deny it.
Explaining everything would only make the conversation longer.
"Anyway, now that the Agathon is operational, from now on—"
"I believe we can make proper preparations. First, let us move to another location to talk."
* * *
"Then we shall begin preparations immediately tomorrow."
"Let’s do that."
"We should be able to move to where the World Tree is within a week."
"The plans are all set, so let’s call it a day."
By the time the gray sky began to darken.
Alon, having finished establishing all future plans and stepping out, heard some fascinating information from Line.
"…The Agathon wasn't made by Magi?"
"Yes, Godfather. I think the reason they said only Magi could use it was because a few Magi managed to decipher and operate it. This is a weapon of the Illanef Empire."
"The ones who made Pluto?"
"Yes, the creators of Pluto. I thought you might already know, Godfather, but I wanted to tell you anyway."
"…?"
Alon felt a momentary doubt.
How would I know that…?
He tilted his head, wondering if he had ever told Line he knew about Illanef.
Regardless, it is fascinating. How did an empire from the past create something like that?
Lost in thought, Alon walked until he reached his room.
"…Magrina?"
He found Magrina waiting for him.
"By any chance, could we talk for a moment?"
Magrina stood there, a shadow of gloom cast over her face.
* * *
"…Lord God, do you happen to know why I wasn't affected by the curse?"
"Regrettably, that is impossible."
Alon had brought Magrina out to the garden.
When Alon shook his head at her question, asked in a trembling voice, Magrina flinched for a moment.
"I thought so…."
She then muttered with a bitter smile.
"No matter which gods I asked, none of them could tell me why I wasn't cursed…."
"Did you go to other gods as well?"
"…Yes. But neither Lady Yongrin nor Lady Dowon could explain why I am free from the curse."
"…."
A long silence settled over the garden, where not a single flower could be found due to lack of care.
Standing in the middle of it with her head bowed, Magrina suddenly spoke.
"Why was I born like this?"
"…What do you mean?"
"Why was I born with a body that isn't affected by the curse? If only—if only I had been cursed like the other elves—"
If only she could have been, it would have been so much better.
Her voice was faint, barely audible.
There were no tears in Magrina’s eyes.
Instead, there was only a void.
A gaze that had given up on everything and resigned itself to fate.
It was a situation he had encountered before.
Alon fell into the same dilemma he had faced with Ryanga.
He could offer comfort.
But he worried that the half-baked comfort of someone who hadn't experienced it might cause an even deeper wound.
Yet, saying nothing wasn't a good option either.
After some thought, Alon organized his ideas and spoke.
"To be honest, I cannot comfort your pain. Offering empty words of consolation would be meaningless."
"…."
"However, I can listen to you."
"…Listen to me?"
"Yes. It might not be a fundamental solution, but I believe just having someone you can comfortably open up to will make your heart feel a bit lighter."
After finishing his sentence, Alon asked himself, Was that the right thing to say?
He had tried his best to give an answer that wouldn't hurt her, but he wasn't certain.
Just as his worries were deepening again.
"Thank you so much…. Then, may I speak for a moment?"
The void in her eyes remained, but Magrina looked up at him as if grasping at a straw. Alon nodded silently.
They sat on a weathered, dilapidated bench.
"…Well—"
Now that the opportunity was there, Magrina found it difficult to continue.
For her sake, Alon made a suggestion first.
"Speak comfortably."
"Pardon…?"
"You seem uncomfortable."
"But—"
"It’s fine. I don't mind. Don't use titles like 'Lord God,' just call me something comfortable."
At that, Magrina looked up at Alon.
"Uh, then—"
She slowly let out a word.
"Mister…?"
"…Mis-ter?"
"I-I’m sorry—"
"No, it’s fine. It’s just—I was a bit taken aback since it’s the first time I’ve been called that."
"…I, I heard you had a daughter, so…."
"Ah…."
Alon recalled his conversation with Surang at Magrina’s cautious explanation.
"Then, shall I call you… Brother?"
At the new suggestion.
"…That sounds much better."
Alon nodded immediately.
"…At the very beginning—"
Magrina’s story began in earnest.
A very long story.
And when the entire story was finished.
Alon let out a small sigh of relief.
Because on Magrina’s face, which had previously felt like nothing but a void.
"Thank you so much, Brother."
A small smile had finally formed.