Chapter 31: What Is a Duel Meant to Protect? (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 31: What Is a Duel Meant to Protect? (3)
The pure white snowfield, reclaimed by a single shot of flashing light, held everyone’s gaze for a long moment.
But as that fleeting instant passed and the snowfield returned to its ashen hue, leaving only dust and a swirling blizzard in its wake—
““…….””
Everyone fell silent.
It was a space of absolute stillness where even a shallow breath felt forbidden.
In that place, where only the crunching of crushed gravel and the settling of dust made any sound, the survivors looked upon Alon with a myriad of emotions in their eyes.
Awe dwelled in the eyes of the soldiers.
Hope dwelled in the eyes of the knights.
Yet Alon, the recipient of these gazes mixed with reverence and hope, merely maintained a blank expression.
To be more precise.
‘Please, please, please—’
He was praying with all his might.
He sincerely hoped that this single strike had been enough to annihilate the Outer God.
However—
“Ah.”
Along with someone’s low, regretful exclamation, Alon realized his prayer had not reached the heavens.
The giant was still standing there.
He stood facing the setting sun, his arms raised as if to show off, his face filled with an emotion akin to ecstasy.
Even with a massive hole blown through his chest.
[You are strong.]
A low voice rumbled.
The sight of the giant smiling brightly despite his heart being pierced caused the soldiers and knights to feel an awe that transcended even fear.
‘Ah.’
But from Alon’s perspective, it brought only boundless despair.
‘It’s over.’
His attack had certainly succeeded in dealing a clear blow to Uultultus.
The problem was that the blow had only managed to take out the heart, rather than obliterating the entire body.
‘…Was the firepower insufficient?’
Objectively speaking, there were several reasons why he, a mage who had only just reached the 3rd Tier, could project such firepower. Ultimately, it was largely thanks to the Constraints.
Using the Phrases of Babiloia or designating the Beastkin were clear Constraints, but the ones he had set this time were even more restrictive than usual.
In the game, Constraints like specifying a ‘Race’ or ‘Designating’ a specific enemy provided a pure magic power amplification of over 100% and 200%, respectively.
On top of that, there was the time taken to set the Constraints and an incantation lasting dozens of seconds—something normally impossible to use in active combat.
It was a spell that could only be used when the opponent was guaranteed not to dodge.
He had only achieved that level of firepower by layering on auxiliary magic that allowed for a higher tier of output by pre-setting coordinates at the start of the manifestation.
In short, the magic from a moment ago was the strongest card Alon could play at this point—and his only card.
Therefore, the moment the attack failed to finish the job, Alon’s defeat was certain.
His attack had destroyed the Outer God’s heart, but an Outer God did not perish simply because its heart was gone.
As if to prove it, Uultultus remained standing tall with a deep smirk.
His body was covered in burn marks and his heart was a gaping void, yet that arrogant smile did not fade.
[Hmph—I see. So, you were indeed carrying on the will.]
At the giant’s cryptic words, muttered softly enough that only Alon could hear, Alon let his hands, which had been holding the seal, drop.
Even at this moment, the effects of the highest-grade potion continued to heal his body. His physical form had been restored to the point where he could move, albeit with some discomfort, but it didn't matter much.
Alon had exhausted every drop of mana, even draining the reserves in his bracelet for that last spell. He had no mana left to continue the fight.
Thus, hiding his gloom behind a stoic mask, he looked up with a hint of confusion at what Uultultus said next.
“?”
In that moment, he saw it.
Uultultus’s body was slowly beginning to vanish.
Reflecting the light of the setting sun, the giant began to disappear from the feet up in a brilliant glow. Alon watched with a bewildered expression.
‘He’s… dissipating?’
The thought flashed through his mind, but Alon quickly shook his head to clear it.
He had never seen an Outer God perish in such a manner.
As his confusion mounted—
[Impressive, Noble One. I never imagined you would already possess ‘Status’ as well.]
Alon looked puzzled by the Outer God’s words.
Thump!
With a wide smile, the giant sat down heavily on the spot, rested his chin on his hand, and spoke.
[Noble One, though we only exchanged a single blow, it was magnificent. No wonder the ‘Black Thing’ and the ‘Blue Thing’ are watching you.]
“……?”
Alon felt a surge of questioning doubt at the voice echoing in his head rather than through his ears, and at the incomprehensible words.
Of course, his face remained a mask of indifference, showing no change in expression. Uultultus continued.
[Since I have lost the duel, I shall give you a gift. I shall also grant you authority.]
The giant grinned.
[O you who remembers the Beastkin and the Mystery of the forgotten Great God—you who remembers us and carries on the will.]
Uultultus’s body began to vanish even faster, nearly half gone now, but he spoke with a smile filled with genuine goodwill.
[When the ‘Usurpers’ crawl out from their shackles, call upon me. Call my true name instead of that derogatory title steeped in lies.]
He continued.
[You have the right.]
And then.
[Call upon this one—]
With those final words.
[The Brute God.]
The accessory tied around the Outer God’s waist fell to the ground, and he vanished completely.
…Leaving behind only a deep, expectant laugh.
And so,
“……?”
Alon, having witnessed the dissipation of the Outer God right before his eyes, stared blankly at the accessory left behind with a bewildered expression.
The soldiers and knights saw Alon standing there, silhouetted against the setting sun, gazing impassively at the spot where the Outer God had vanished.
““…….””
Among the living, awe began to spread.
* * *
After the giant vanished, the Land of Severe Cold, which until recently had been filled with the voices of the deceased, was now filled only with the sound of the biting wind.
The restless dead had all found peace, and the survivors gathered their remains.
About a day later, having achieved their goal of taking down the Outer God, the expedition began its journey back to Calliban.
By the time two days had passed, Alon, who was returning with the knights just as he had come, noticed three major changes.
“Salute—!”
The first was that most of the knights now saluted whenever they saw Alon.
Fundamentally, the relationship between mages and knights wasn't terrible, but there was always a baseline of competitive friction.
In particular, because of the existence of mages who used magic purely for combat—unlike the mages who were more like seekers of knowledge—the relationship was often awkward and lacked genuine mutual respect.
Yet now, regardless of which unit they belonged to, soldiers and knights alike saluted Alon whenever he stepped out of his carriage or tent.
That was the first change Alon experienced.
The second was—
“Vice Tower Master.”
“Y-Yes…?”
“I have something to ask you.”
“Ask m-me anything…!”
Penia’s misunderstanding had grown strangely intense.
“…….”
Alon looked at Penia, who was now trembling like an aspen leaf the moment he spoke to her, and said with a troubled expression.
“I think you might be misunderstanding something—”
“Not at all! I’m not misunderstanding anything…! You’re a 2nd Tier, aren't you, Count?!”
Penia spoke with exaggeration.
The way the corners of her eyes twitched was pitiful.
However, this time, Alon was the one who felt dejected.
“…I am 3rd Tier.”
“R-Right!! 3rd Tier! That’s right! I had it wrong…!”
Penia nodded frantically, terrified by Alon’s calm but internally grumbling voice.
“…But why does the Vice Tower Master of the Blue Magic Tower use such formal language with a mere 3rd Tier?”
“Ah, i-is that so—I mean, is it? Then from now on, I’ll speak… casually!”
Alon watched Penia as she began to speak casually, creaking like a broken doll.
“…Do as you please.”
“I-I understand. Thank you…!”
Penia immediately bowed her head and thanked him—in formal language.
“…….”
Receiving thanks for allowing her to use formal language made Alon feel like a cruel mastermind. He quickly spoke again.
“Do you happen to know anything about the ‘Black Thing’ and the ‘Blue Thing’?”
“No? I, I don’t know anything.”
“…Really?”
“Yes, I really don’t know anything.”
Penia shook her head vigorously as if she truly had no clue.
“If you know anything at all, tell me.”
“Really, I don’t know. I know nothing. I’ve never seen a Black Thing or a Blue Thing.”
“…….”
Alon was speechless at her response, which was so fast he wondered if she had even thought about it. Realizing it would be difficult to get an answer from her, he finally nodded.
“Then, I’ll be going now…!”
Seeing the corners of her mouth twitch into a faint smile of relief at escaping the conversation, Alon felt strangely hurt.
As Penia ran off the moment he nodded, and other mages watched the scene with eyes full of awe, Alon recalled the keywords the Outer God had uttered.
‘The Black Thing, the Blue Thing, the Beastkin and Mystery of the forgotten Great God, the Brute God, Status. The one who carries on the will. Authority.’
Among them, there was only one thing Alon could deduce.
‘The part about the Beastkin and Mystery of the forgotten God and the one who carries on the will is definitely what I heard when I set the Constraints through the Ring of Constraint… but other than that, I don’t know a single thing.’
Alon absentmindedly toyed with his hair.
From his perspective, there were many things he didn't understand.
Though it was a relief, he still didn't understand why the Outer God, who wasn't supposed to perish, had dissipated after being hit by that attack.
And that wasn't all.
He didn't understand the ‘Black Thing’ and ‘Blue Thing’ Uultultus mentioned, nor could he grasp what he meant by ‘Status.’
‘If there’s such a thing as Status in this world that I know of, it’s only Divinity. But surely it’s not that.’
He also didn't understand the name ‘Brute God’ that Uultultus had given as his true name.
‘…For a name like that, isn't it too… different from Uultultus?’
It was an alien name that seemed more suited to an Eastern deity than the god of the Northern Barbarians he knew. After tilting his head in confusion for a moment, he thought:
‘…Will I find out something if I go here?’
Alon pulled the accessory from his coat.
The leather accessory that the Outer God Uultultus—no, the Brute God—had been wearing, set with three amethysts in a row.
It was an item that could be obtained after defeating him in the game, and its effect was to exactly double the user’s damage.
In exchange, the damage received was also doubled, so players used to call it the ‘Glass Cannon Belt.’ Looking at the inside of the accessory, Alon saw an inscription.
‘O you who carries on the will, head to Kahara, the City of the Old God.’
Seeing the words on the belt—words that shouldn't have existed—Alon easily deduced that this was the gift the Outer God had left behind.
‘…Going there isn't hard.’
Kahara, the City of the Old God, was naturally a city that did not exist in the current era, as the name ‘Old God’ implied.
However, Alon knew roughly where the city was.
That was because, in the game, this city was one of the secret dungeons players could enter once they reached the ‘Colony.’
As Alon walked back to his carriage while looking at the inscription on the belt—
“…Were you here?”
“Ah, Deus.”
He looked at Deus, who had appeared at his side at some point.
Seeing Deus following him with his usual expressionless face, Alon felt strangely uncomfortable.
That was because the last of the three major changes Alon experienced while returning to Calliban was Deus.
Of course, at a glance, Deus didn't seem to have changed that much.
He seemed to be carrying himself with a bit more tension, but it was a very subtle feeling, and on the surface, there wasn't a big difference.
However, the reason Alon felt so uneasy was—
“…Count.”
“What is it?”
“Shall I kill the Vice Tower Master?”
“…Why…?”
“She spoke casually to you, Count.”
…Because since that day, Deus had begun to express his respect in a much more aggressive manner.
“There is no need for that.”
“…Understood.”
Seeing Deus look subtly disappointed, though he didn't show it, Alon wore a complicated expression.
“Then, Count.”
“…What now?”
“Shall I make an example out of two of the mages?”
“…….”
What is wrong with you…?
Alon felt a headache coming on.