Chapter 29: What Is a Duel Meant to Protect? (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 29: What Is a Duel Meant to Protect? (1)
Most members of the Eclipse, the knight order led by Deus Macallian, held Alon in high regard. Naturally, however, they only acted that way because he was Deus’s benefactor.
In reality, the feelings most of them harbored toward Alon were closer to indifference.
To the knights of the Eclipse, Alon seemed like an ordinary man with nothing particularly special about him, aside from the fact that he had helped Deus.
Even if they did feel something, it was merely the petty jealousy of a few young knights who saw how Deus treated him. Beyond that, it was safe to say they felt nothing at all.
In short, the knights' perception of Alon was far from positive.
But at least in this very moment...
"Vice Tower Master, may I ask a favor?"
"Ye-yes, yes... what kind of favor...?"
The knights could only stare with their mouths agape.
"Can you brew a Lemiteon's Potion for me?"
"A Lemiteon's... Potion?"
"Yes. Is it not possible?"
"A-ah, no, it is! Of course it is...!"
The knights of the Eclipse—and not just them, but even the knights of Eunyoung, who had been getting cursed out by Penia just moments ago—wore expressions of pure shock.
They knew all too well that the Vice Tower Master standing before them possessed a personality as disastrous as her magical talent was genius.
In fact, it wasn't just them. Any knight who had been dispatched to the North even once couldn't help but hear stories of 'Hysteric Penia.'
Whenever a northern expedition was called, the mages of the Blue Magic Tower were usually drafted at the same time, and they would immediately begin lamenting Penia’s terrible temperament. It was impossible not to know.
Because the knights knew exactly what kind of person Penia was, they were stunned.
"Hmm, then I'll ask just in case. Do you happen to have a Potion of Extraordinariness, or can you brew one?"
"U-uh... I don't have one right now, but I think I can make it..."
"Then could you brew that as well?"
"Oh, but that takes quite a bit of time, and I have work to do..."
"I'm asking because I really need it."
"I-I'll do it. I'll definitely do it...!"
They couldn't believe the scene unfolding before their eyes.
Penia, the Vice Tower Master of the Blue Magic Tower and a 6th Tier mage.
She was following Count Palatio’s words with utter submissiveness.
No, it was more than just submissiveness. The knights watched in disbelief as she practically twisted herself into knots to avoid offending him.
And naturally...
"She's... she's lost it..."
The mages who had been dispatched from the Blue Magic Tower alongside Penia—those who had been shedding tears of blood from her constant berating—felt the same way.
"What... what is that?"
"Am I seeing things?"
"Has the Vice Tower Master finally gone insane?"
The mages stared at the scene, letting out gasps as if they were witnessing the end of the world.
"Wait, didn't she spend weeks throwing a fit after making that potion once, saying it was too exhausting to ever do again? And now she's saying she'll make it just like that?"
"I'm not seeing things, right? Did someone cast illusion magic on us as a prank?"
"You idiot, we're here with the Vice Tower Master. Do you think anyone has enough mana left for pranks when we have to keep Silence spells on our ears just to survive her?"
Beyond mere surprise, they were so suspicious that another mage might be playing a trick that they even tried to cast Dispel with what little mana they had left.
And then.
"Thank you."
"No, it's only natural."
"How much will the payment be?"
"Pa-payment?"
"It's only right to pay for a favor. Tell me the price, and I'll have it sent to the Magic Tower later."
"Ah, that—"
"However, if the price is too high, it might be a bit late. My finances aren't in the best shape lately."
"Just give me... 1 gold coin."
"......1 gold coin? Isn't that too cheap?"
"No, it's fine...! Yes, it's perfectly fine...!"
"......If you say so, I won't decline your kindness."
As the grand finale, the knights and mages watched Penia beam with a silly grin after being lowballed to a single gold coin for two potions that cost hundreds of gold to produce. They stood frozen for a moment before turning their collective gaze toward Alon.
By the time shock began to fade from the knights' faces, it was replaced by a look of awe on the mages'.
'...She definitely seems to be misunderstanding something, but thanks to that, I got the potions easily.'
With that thought, Alon returned to Evan.
"...Wait, Count. Since when did you become close enough with the Vice Tower Master to speak so informally?"
"Hmm? Informal speech? I'm just using it because I'm a noble."
"Pardon...? No... I mean, someone of the Vice Tower Master's status is treated as quasi-royalty. I thought using formal speech with each other was basic etiquette...?"
"......Is that so?"
"Yes."
Realizing he had been a bit rude to Penia, Alon let out a soft exclamation.
"Ah."
* * *
'With this, I've gathered all the cards I need for now.'
Not long after, Alon received the Lemiteon's Potion and the Potion of Extraordinariness he had requested from Penia. A few hours later, he heard the news from Deus.
"A retreat?"
"Yes."
Deus began to explain the current situation. As Alon listened, he gave a small nod.
'...True, they didn't look like they were in any condition to fight.'
Alon recalled the numerous wounded he had seen upon arriving at the outpost, as well as the soldiers' faces, which were steeped in deep terror.
'The knights seemed relatively fine, but their expressions weren't great either.'
He remembered that the only people walking around with normal expressions were the mages who had come to investigate the ritual, not to fight.
'And the mages... they've already bolted.'
Alon glanced around. Unlike earlier, when mages were scurrying about busily, not a single one was in sight after Penia had delivered the potions.
Thinking of the mages who had hit the escape button the moment they realized the outpost was in danger, Alon heard Deus's question.
"What do you plan to do?"
Alon answered without hesitation.
"I'm staying here."
The reason Alon had brought so many items to Calliban and gone as far as to borrow the Ring of the Madman from the royal family was to deal with the Outer God. Unless he dealt with the Outer God before becoming a Living God, the future he saw was nothing but catastrophic.
As Alon was reviewing the plan in his head...
"Aaaaaaaagh—!!"
A horrific scream erupted from the distance. Alon jumped up and rushed out of the tent.
"!"
There, he saw a mage screaming like a madman and others frantically fleeing toward the outpost.
And.
──■■■■■■■■■■!!
Behind them, The Deceased were marching forward.
"It-it's The Deceased!"
"U-uaaaah!"
Soldiers shrieked as if the nightmare from the other day had returned, while knights began to gather at the gate, drawing their swords.
Fear painted the soldiers' eyes, and confusion and panic gripped the knights' faces at the sudden turn of events, but Alon could easily guess what had happened.
'...An ambush...!'
Realizing that the Outer God had moved faster than the fleeing mages had anticipated, Alon’s thoughts were cut short.
"Everyone, draw your swords!"
With Piola’s shout as she rushed out of her tent, the battle began.
* * *
The Deceased, who fought blindly without tactics or strategy, were generally not as formidable as a well-trained army. Therefore, even if the warlocks of this continent used necromancy to raise the dead, they could never defeat disciplined soldiers.
However.
"H-help me!"
"U-uaaaagh!"
This army of the dead was fundamentally different from those raised by warlocks.
"Die! Just die! Please!"
Soldiers thrust their spears into the bodies of The Deceased.
Some through the heart.
Some through the head.
Some through the legs.
The soldiers' spears pierced countless vital spots. If these were corpses raised by a warlock, their bodies would have been so damaged that it wouldn't be strange for them to stop functioning.
But.
"G-grrrk—"
Despite being riddled with spears, The Deceased continued to walk forward. It was more than enough to plant the seeds of terror in the soldiers.
Squelch!
"Gurgle—!"
A soldier whose throat was pierced by a dead man's sword died instantly—
"U-uaaaaagh!"
And the sight of the creature immediately attacking the soldier next to him was enough to make the seeds of fear in their instincts burst into full bloom.
The soldiers' ranks broke, and the battlefield instantly turned into a living hell. The rising number of casualties naturally rose again as The Deceased, creating a horrific, vicious cycle.
Yet, even in this worst-case scenario, the soldiers fought on, gritting their teeth and staring with bloodshot eyes.
The reason was simple: there was still hope.
The knights, their blades imbued with Aura, were thinning the ranks of the thousands of dead with overwhelming speed.
The mages, who joined the fray late, were reducing the numbers even faster than the knights.
And among them, the magic unleashed by Penia...
"Icicle."
Crack! Shatter!
...was beyond overwhelming.
The sight of hundreds of dead marching toward the soldiers being frozen solid and shattered into pieces in an instant was truly a spectacle.
However, the beings who gave the soldiers the most hope were the two Master Knights present: Piola and Deus.
And among them, Deus’s presence...
Swish—!
...was nothing short of absolute.
Dozens of the dead swarmed around him. Some were soldiers with massive gashes in their heads; others were knights with holes in their chests.
But.
At a certain moment, the hundreds of dead surrounding Deus stopped in their tracks simultaneously. It was as if time itself had frozen.
Then.
Slide—
With a single, light horizontal swing of Deus’s sword, the dead who had been frozen in time were sliced perfectly in half.
Hundreds of corpses fallen in a single strike. Just as hope began to shine in the eyes of the soldiers and knights at this overwhelming lethality—befitting a superhuman who had transcended humanity—it happened.
BOOM—!
The Outer God plummeted into the center of the battlefield with a massive explosion.
In an instant, the movements of the dead ceased, and every soldier's gaze shifted.
The sheer, overwhelming pressure radiating from its mere existence caused an undeniable tension to bloom in the eyes of Deus and Piola.
As the gray dust cleared, everyone gasped at the sight of the man revealed.
He wore the clothes of a barbarian, but his form could no longer be called such. His bloated physique and blue skin suggested that this entity was no longer confined within the framework of a human being.
And then.
[O barbarians, do not recklessly spoil the sins of those who know no honor.]
With that voice—the voice of Uultultus—the dead began to rise again.
The corpses that had been shattered into pieces by Penia fused back together like slime to regenerate their bodies, and those cut down by Deus’s sword mended themselves.
In that moment.
Flash—!
Piola, who had been silent until now, reached the Outer God in an instant. It was a sharp, instinctive decision, judging that they could no longer win the battle once the dead began to regenerate.
The fastest among the knights of Calliban, a Master Knight possessing the ability of Divine Speed, she thrust her sword in that split second before Uultultus could even react.
Thuck!
The surprise thrust buried the sword into Uultultus’s heart.
"!"
Or rather, only the tip of the blade.
[Hah.]
Uultultus’s gaze shifted to look at Piola. His face was filled with contempt.
[Barbarians truly have no honor. One who does not uphold honor is no different from one who abandons their own existence. Furthermore—]
Crunch!
[They even forfeit the nobility of their soul.]
Thud.
Piola’s body, which had been holding the sword just a moment ago, collapsed to the ground. Her head was no longer attached to her body.
However.
[I cannot grant an honorable death to one who ignores all such values.]
As he spoke, Piola’s headless body began to twitch and stagger back to its feet.
At that sight, everyone present realized how this fight would end.
Fear writhed on the faces of the soldiers, and despair gripped the knights and mages. Even Penia and Deus, who clearly transcended the human realm, were no different.
No, in fact, they had felt the despair before the other knights and mages.
Having achieved Awakening, they knew. They knew the being before them possessed power far beyond their expectations.
Thus, amidst the dead, whose cries of agony and lamentation were now perfectly orchestrated, they felt utter despair.
Except for one man.
"Uultultus, the Great God of Duel."
While everyone else was plunged into despair, a man began to walk past the living and the dead toward the giant.
Step. Step.
One step, then another.
Neither slow nor fast.
"In accordance with the Great Covenant of Cargunias."
Furthermore, the face of the man walking toward the giant was infinitely calm, even in the midst of this hellish despair. It was as if he had experienced this many times before.
And he—
"I, Alon Palatio, in order to uphold the Great Covenant—"
Count Palatio.
"—demand a Babylonian Duel."
With his ink-black bracelet glowing a deep gray, he stood face-to-face with the giant.