Episode 1218
Episode 1218
A splintering sound echoed. It was the sound of Hidor precisely striking the Evil God's avatar and grinding it down to the depths of its soul.
Yet the Evil God did not fall. Instead, the bloody aura rising from it grew even stronger.
-It's fallen!
Be careful, Os's disciple!
The others who had been fighting their respective avatars in different locations also noticed the anomaly.
All the avatars they'd been facing had been simultaneously destroyed.
It was clear the cornered Evil God was squeezing out every last drop of its remaining power, even at great cost to itself.
Even though hastily reabsorbing avatars in this manner would cause significant losses.
The sky in the area that had been dyed crimson returned to its original color, and the distorted regions regained order.
The Evil God was even absorbing the energy it had used to maintain its domain.
'So that's how it endured!'
Lee Han felt grateful for his decision to hold back the Thunder Spear.
The vision of the future he'd just seen had shown him.
The image of the Evil God stubbornly charging forward like a wild boar even after being pierced by the Thunder Spear!
He'd wondered how it could endure, but apparently it had scraped together every last remnant of its strength to barely hold on.
■■■■■■...!
The Evil God no longer even emitted mental waves in a form mortals could comprehend.
Having discarded the ego it had once prided itself on, it now focused solely on primal power as it snarled.
Saratan roared when he sensed the threat.
-It's charging! Pierce it with the Thunder Spear!
"Not yet. Wait longer."
-The bastard's trying to cross space!
Saratan could feel the Evil God's power straining against the Small World's constraints, attempting to break through space itself.
A cornered enemy was truly terrifying. Despite being struck by Hidor, it kept stubbornly inching closer.
But instead of unleashing the Thunder Spear, this contractor gathered even more power. He would exhaust his opponent and amplify his own destructive force until he could kill it in a single strike.
-You damned brat!
Eventually Saratan gave up on persuasion and stepped forward himself.
Before being sealed away, this hornbeam spirit had boasted an indestructible toughness that no attack could mar.
Though he'd lost most of his original power, some fragments remained—one of which was the Authority of Tenacity.
An impenetrable iron wall that could withstand any attack!
In an instant, dozens of branches sprouted before Lee Han's staff, forming a shield-like mass of vines.
As the vines suppressed the approaching Evil God, a furious roar filled with killing intent echoed back. Provoked by the roar, Saratan's anger flared as he snapped:
-Just die already, you beastly bastard!
■■■■...
The Young Prince let out a sigh.
The situation wasn't looking good.
That tree spirit had overexerted itself in its weakened state and likely wouldn't withstand the Evil God's charge.
To help his disciple at the critical moment, the Young Prince had been quietly waiting while conserving every last bit of his strength, even the energy needed to speak a single word.
And now he had to use that strength for that wicked spirit.
The Prince didn't like this spirit. He didn't particularly like wicked beings in general, not just Saratan.
Wicked beings were far too numerous, endlessly multiplying as if they never tired. They showed no gratitude even when shown mercy, rolling their eyes at every opportunity.
But now...
He couldn't deny that this spirit was the last loyal retainer remaining by his disciple's side until the very end.
Though wicked, this spirit was no coward. Unlike himself—who would disappear once the painting's power weakened—this spirit would continue aiding his disciple in the future.
Perhaps fate had sent this Young Prince here precisely to teach him that lesson.
That there was no need to excessively hate wicked beings out of mere emotional aversion.
The young prince raised his hand.
Their first meeting had been nothing short of miraculous, and now a second encounter had arrived in this manner.
If so, then a third might not be impossible either.
"Be free!"
-!?
Saratan was startled by the sudden surge of power.
He had known that a significant portion of his strength had been sealed within the core of this staff, but he hadn't expected it to return like this.
Had the resonance with his contractor broken through several layers of the seal and restored his power?
Though it was unpleasant to admit, he couldn't deny it. Especially when considering the recent events his contractor had endured.
In any case, it was something to be grateful for. Saratan roared defiantly at the Evil God, pouring even more of his strength into the fight.
-You're really pushing it—die already!
If you can't kill it, at least stab it through!
Perkuntra shouted.
The issue was no longer whether the Thunder Spear could sever the enemy's lifeline—it was whether the contractor's body could endure it.
With the Small World Dynamis unleashed, this contractor was stacking magic endlessly, without restraint.
Was this truly alright?
Lee Han also understood the spirit's concern. The Thunder Spear had indeed grown so powerful that controlling it was nearly impossible.
Of course, he had a countermeasure.
'I just need to use Dynamis one more time.'
Since he had initially spoken of three uses, this meant one remained.
Neither Perkuntra nor Mahuda—nor anyone else—had agreed to three, but Lee Han had rationalized it using the Einrogard method of calculation.
In that instant, Professor Voladi appeared behind Lee Han.
Lee Han panicked, fearing the professor had read his mind and would knock him unconscious to send him to the rear. Fortunately, Voladi hadn't teleported with that intention.
Professor Voladi seized the Thunder Spear with one hand—to help control it.
An immense surge of mana tried to incinerate the one who wasn't its master, but Voladi calmly sacrificed an arm and commanded:
"Now."
"Understood!"
Regaining control, the Thunder Spear writhed like a dragon, condensing its trajectory.
It lunged toward the Evil God's brow, tearing through the swamp of magic. The mages present felt as if time had momentarily frozen.
And then—the Thunder Spear struck the Evil God directly.
Professor Voladi sensed victory. The blinding white light scorched the air, vibrating as if it sought to burn everything away.
Normally, he should have maintained focus.
He should have observed the enemy, ready to strike again if it showed signs of revival.
But suddenly, a memory flashed through Voladi's mind—an unstoppable thought.
"The Western vampire clans within the fortress were annihilated. They refused to surrender to the Emperor's dogs, so I let them have their way."
"......"
"We searched the fortress and found your clan's remains. Tell the knights they did well. I'll arrange the funeral."
"......"
"You resent me, don't you?"
The skeletal headmaster, in human form, spoke while looking at his disciple lying on the sickbed.
To be precise, it was more like a fusion of a sickbed and a prison.
On one side, there were potions meant to restore the mage, exhausted and weakened from prolonged assassination attempts. On the other, restraints ensured he couldn't escape.
"Yes."
"Well, I resent you too, so let's call it even. Resent me all you want there. I'll wander freely and resent you in return. Actually, forget even—I'll just say I won."
Voladi Bagrak hesitated, as if carefully choosing his words, before asking:
"Why?"
"Hm?"
"Why do you resent me?"
Voladi Bagrak had every reason to resent the skeletal headmaster.
He had interfered with his vengeance multiple times, ultimately preventing him from even participating in the fortress siege.
But it made no logical sense for the Skeleton Principal to resent Voladi Bagrak.
The one who interfered resenting the one who was interfered with—that was absurd.
"Most of my disciples were shameless, but you take it to another level. Who was it that rescued you from the fortress dungeon? Anyone hearing this would think you escaped on your own!"
The Skeleton Principal scolded his disciple as if utterly exasperated.
Letting it slide that he'd raged around like a madman, putting the enemies on high alert—fine.
But then he should've taken a breather to lull their vigilance, not immediately charged into a fortress full of enemies to kill!
Because of this, the Skeleton Principal had to agonize over planning a rescue operation before the actual subjugation.
There was no telling what this bastard had learned at Einrogard—or from the Skeleton Principal himself. He felt like disowning him if anyone asked.
"I never asked to be rescued—"
"'I never asked to be rescued.' Yeah, that's exactly what you were about to say!"
The Skeleton Principal raised both hands mockingly. Voladi Bagrak stiffened, caught in the act.
"Don't spout such clichés. You're neither the first nor the last disciple like this. People saved from drowning who then rage, 'Why did you save me?' Why am I resentful? You wouldn't understand even if I explained, so why ask?"
"You still haven't answered the question."
"I don't want to. When you get a disciple as shameless as yourself someday, ask yourself then. There's only one thing I'll say to you now."
"What—"
"Once you're fully healed, it's straight to the Punishment Room!"
With those final words, the Skeleton Principal hurled a peeled fruit at his disciple's face and stormed out.
After that, no allegations or investigations regarding the events in the west ever reached Professor Voladi.
Despite breaking imperial laws just as flagrantly as the western vampire families.
Though unspoken, Professor Voladi suspected the Skeleton Principal had pulled some strings.
After all, knights from the west who visited Einrogard often got chased out naked.
When the knight commanders came to protest and got chased out naked a few more times, even the most meticulous imperial bureaucrats stopped questioning the professor about the western rebellion.
Despite events that seemed unforgettable, time flowed on.
After leaving the Punishment Room, Professor Voladi finished a few more combat magic theses and wandered the Empire. He was perfecting his own magic.
Then, unexpectedly, the Skeleton Principal made him an offer: to return to Einrogard.
Kirmin welcomed his old friend joyfully, but Professor Voladi always had one lingering question.
Why had the Skeleton Principal invited someone like him to be a professor?
The Empire had plenty of outstanding combat mages. None were worse at teaching than him.
Yet the Skeleton Principal never said a word.
He let it slide even when Voladi failed to teach a single student for years. Professor Verdus even grumbled about favoritism.
He hadn't asked back then, but now he thought he understood—not just that, but also why the Skeleton Principal had said he resented him.
"Wardanaz."
Professor Voladi looked at his disciple.
Though covered in blood without a single unscathed spot, his eyes blazed with triumph, a faint smile curling his lips.
For a moment, Professor Voladi felt deeply sorry toward the Skeleton Principal.
Why were some things impossible to truly understand until experienced firsthand?
"Thank you."
"...It was nothing, Professor."
Lee Han grinned as he spoke. Professor Voladi gave a small nod.
"And..."
"?"
After hesitating, Professor Voladi finally made up his mind.
In a way, it felt like spitting on his own face, but these words had to be said.
"Once you're fully healed, it's straight to the Punishment Room."
"......"