Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Shadow over Ark #5
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After passing through the narrow stone-walled corridor, something that could be called a wide plaza appeared.
A vast open space with thick pillars rising straight up to the high ceiling.
Of course, with no sunlight filtering in and no torches or lanterns installed, only darkness poured in from all sides like a flood into the gaping void.
I never would have imagined this rundown fortress had such a wide open area, so I wondered what this space was for.
There was an oil smell too.
“Graaaah—!”
At that moment, a ruffian screamed and lunged at Elga.
Elga effortlessly sidestepped the bull-like charge and drove her knee straight into his gut.
Thud.
“Gek—!”
She tapped the head of the man who crumpled to the floor with her foot and said,
“We’ve taken down about fifteen by now?”
“Our class has twenty students. Excluding me and Lady Mirna, there might be three more around here. Whew.”
I regulated my breathing.
My head felt dizzy, a throbbing headache clouding my mind like fog.
Having cast about ten spells, my mana limit was inevitably approaching. Still, it wasn’t all bad.
Using magic in real combat had made me clearly understand its power and limits.
My spell, Paimon, was like a shotgun.
A shotgun made of air bullets.
Its power increased the closer the target, and decreased the farther away—a shotgun, that is.
Even weakening its power with the imp tail wand for stability, getting hit up close would shatter bones and inflict massive internal damage without fail.
And if it hit the head? Instant death, obviously.
To think this was with a mere 2nd Circle mage’s spell. So what must Angmar the Demon King’s Paimon have been like at 10th Circle?
What in the world were those four heroes from the noble houses who subdued such a demon king?
Anyway.
I’d fired off about ten attack spells. Just a rough guess, but I felt like chanting two more would be my limit.
My mana orbs were nearly depleted.
Enduring the throbbing headache, I wondered if this was probably their aim.
Luring us into a place advantageous to them and slowly wearing us down—wasn’t that Professor Ballan’s goal?
I’d probably choose the same strategy myself: ambush exhausted foes after prolonged fighting.
Of course, I was the only tired one; Elga and Mirna seemed perfectly fine. As expected, their real combat levels were leagues above mine.
Elga drew the Lioness family treasure, the massive halberd Crusher, and said,
“So, Mirna. This the place? Feel anything? Let’s wrap this up and grab dinner.”
“He’s somewhere here. I can sense my father’s presence from somewhere in this area. Be careful.”
“Hmm, right. Hey, Theo. Can’t you do some flash spell to light up the surroundings?”
“Can’t do that.”
“Tch.”
What can you do when I can’t?
But I could do this.
Ssshh.
I kept a calm mind and listened carefully to the surroundings.
My ears, Theo’s ears, had hearing several times better than average.
In this vast, quiet darkness, picking up any sign of movement was child’s play.
And sure enough, something growling reached my ears.
—Bul’s Jack.
At the same time, a massive fireball hurtled toward us with a whoosh.
“Fireball—!? Everyone, behind me!”
Elga shouted in apparent surprise. Mirna and I ducked behind her back.
Elga raised her axe toward the watermelon-sized fireball flying at us.
She swung it down with full force—slash—and with the sound of something sharp cutting, the fireball split in two, exploding massively on both sides.
Boom, boom—!!!
Whoosh.
The area lit up in an instant. Was that faint oil smell from earlier the cause?
Whoosh.
The blazing flames connected in a circle, as if drawing something, forming a wall of fire.
I realized it was some kind of magic circle or ritual array.
Unbeknownst to us, we’d stepped right into the center of it.
Toward us, black shadows began emerging and approaching from the darkness.
They were undead like zombies and skeletons, but unlike the Arc students we’d encountered earlier, their decay and flesh were on another level.
The moment Mirna Draco saw them, she shuddered.
“Uncle—. Aunt.”
Elga aimed her massive halberd in all directions and asked,
“Know these corpses?”
“They’re Draco family corpses. Looks like our graveyard’s been thoroughly ransacked! They’re not your average undead. Be careful!”
“Ah—. This is why I hate Draco bastards. Even dead, they cause trouble. So, Mirna, got any good ideas? Gotta fight surrounded like this?”
“A way….”
“I’m confident I can survive alone. But protecting you two? They’re not that easy.”
Elga’s eyes were fixed on something floating in the air. A black-robed undead with long white hair.
It was High Lich Sir Aleister.
—Itum kalli. Hur Bolt Jack.
Whoosh.
Blue flames flickered in the high lich’s bony hands. A few days ago when I met him, those hands had given me candy.
—Exack Skarrrrr…!
Now, control snatched by some necromancer called Professor Ballan, he was nothing but a Terminator-like tool slaughtering the living.
“Honestly, no clue how to beat that thing. Looks as strong as my dad.”
Elga glanced at Aleister, reminded of her father, Sir Reinhardt.
Reinhardt and Aleister were rivals and contemporaries, so Elga was gauging Aleister’s strength against her father’s.
“Hey, Draco. Your dad got any weaknesses? Liches have phylacteries or whatever, right? Like soul jars.”
“Aleister Draco is our family’s masterpiece. No way he has such an obvious weakness.”
“Then how do we take him down? Even if I chop him, he’ll just come back, right?”
“If there’s a weakness, it’s the one controlling him. We need to find Professor Ballan. He’s somewhere here. Meanwhile, I’ll try to regain control.”
—Groooargh—!
At that moment, the Draco family zombies charged us. Unzombie-like, they were incredibly fast and agile.
“Here? Find some professor whose face we don’t even know?”
Slash, shiiiing—!
Elga swung her massive halberd, slicing Draco zombies in half. Each swing sent arms and legs flying, spraying blood and body chunks.
“Nothing to it!”
As Elga shouted confidently, the eldritch Aleister muttered something.
—Halo Dasi Tumb!
The blue flames in his hand flared even larger. Whatever it was, it didn’t look good.
But the motion halted abruptly.
—Grrrrrr.
“Death is not the end or rest—but the beginning.”
Probably thanks to Mirna Draco chanting some prayer-like incantation.
“But merely the gateway to new life and ascension, as serpents and dragons shed scales and skin. Begone, it is commanded—”
—Grrr….
She was clearly attempting to wrest control of her father.
“You pests, endless! Hurry up and do something!”
Elga, busy fending off zombies swarming from all sides.
“Thus, even walking the gloomy valley of death, fear not. For I shall seize the necks of the wailing demons for you….”
—Grrrrrrr…!
Mirna trying to control her father.
Both seemed extremely occupied with their tasks.
Which left only me to find the main body controlling them from somewhere—Professor Ballan.
“Whew.”
I steadied my breath.
From what I knew, necromancers controlling undead had to maintain a certain distance from their minions.
Too far, and they lose control; too close, no point using minions as shields.
So Professor Ballan must be hiding somewhere in this darkness.
Where?
No idea.
Guess I’ll just shout into the void?
“Professor Ballan! Show yourself!”
—Fuhuhu, pitiful. Girls. Resistance is futile.
A gloomy voice echoed through the vast space.
Then, someone slithered into view—Professor Ballan, draped in a black robe.
In his hands, a cross-shaped dagger and a long staff, one each; around his neck, a thick iron chain like a necklace.
“There, I’ve shown myself. Now what?”
What? Did I actually summon him?
The professor said,
“Resistance is futile. Pointless. Unnecessary. Futile. No matter how you struggle. The barrier will fall. The evil beyond the barrier, long ignored, will consume the world.”
Unlike his stammering in class, Professor Ballan spoke gloomily but fluently. Elga responded,
“Barrier? What’s with the sudden barrier talk? You’re just a mad black mage, right?”
Elga frowned in confusion, but I heard it differently.
“Barrier falling” brought to mind the novel’s Episode 2 after Aira’s execution.
The northern barrier crumbles, and Arc, the hero academy, becomes the final bastion against the invading dark army.
But that won’t happen.
As long as Aira isn’t executed like in the original story, the barrier won’t fall. That’s the setup.
Then Mirna shouted,
“Professor Ballan! Surrender now and return my Draco family possessions!”
The professor chuckled—huhu.
“Professor Ballan? That fool’s gone. Just a shell remains. He resisted well enough. But now, truly just a shell.”
“You’re saying Professor Ballan is dead?”
“Close enough. Now here exist only Draco’s half-baked necromancer, unable to wield ancestral relics, and the Lioness whelp….”
Ssshh.
Professor Ballan’s red eyes turned to me.
“…And who are you?”
“Theo Gospel. I attend your lectures—don’t you know?”
“No idea. A nymph? Now I see. A worthless, useless fairy.”
Harsh.
“Hahaha, anyway, you can’t win against me. I am Gamigin. 4th of Demon King Solomon’s seals. The great necromantic ritual, Gamigin.”
“Gamigin…!?”
Mirna cried out in shock. Elga asked,
“What’s that?”
“Demon King Solomon’s rituals! The four great rituals said to possess their own will… This is one!”
“What? Solomon was subjugated. Doesn’t that mean all his spells vanished too?”
Elga leisurely hacked at the undead as she spoke.
—Grieeek….
—Hiee….
The Draco undead Elga had butchered were rolling on the floor in pieces.
Yet the powerful necromancer Aleister and Ballan, claiming to be Gamigin, stood unharmed.
If they chanted again, the undead would rise and move endlessly. That’s fighting a necromancer.
But Ballan—no, Gamigin—didn’t seem intent on finishing us off quickly.
“Solomon dead? Angmar’s bloodline severed? Ridiculous. Angmar lives. My persistent will proves it.”
“Nonsense!”
Elga growled dismissively. But Mirna Draco’s face was pale—ghostly blue.
“Mirna Draco. You know, don’t you? Your family knew. That Angmar lives somewhere.”
“…That’s.”
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Elga demanded in disbelief. Gamigin cackled.
“The Draco family knew. Angmar’s will never ended. Ask if you doubt. She knows better than I. Hahaha.”
“Hey, what’s that mean?”
Elga demanded again, truly angry. Rage, bewilderment, and distrust flickered across her blood-smeared face.
I realized this was Gamigin’s ploy—driving a wedge between Elga and Mirna.
But what he said was intriguing.
Angmar’s will lives?
That’s me, right?
Only me.
The system nailed it: I’m Angmar’s sole survivor.
But the Draco family knew of my existence…?
No, that didn’t seem right.
“Explain! Angmar lives? And you hid it? Don’t you know what that means?”
Sshk.
Elga grabbed Mirna’s collar.
But Mirna didn’t resist, murmuring calmly, as if something inevitable had arrived.
“…No need to lie now. It’s true. Angmar lives. Or rather, his bloodline… like the Forbidden Legacy….”