Chapter 336: Evil God Subjugation (3)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 336: Evil God Subjugation (3)
“Hold them off!!”
“Don’t let a single one inside!!”
Under a blood-red sky, corpses wreathed in dark mana surged toward Märchen Academy’s second campus. It was a grotesque, harrowing sight.
They moved as a single, unified army.
Each one had been a human who once made a contract with Mephisto, only to have their life and soul harvested by the demon. Having inherited fragments of Mephisto’s personality and intelligence, their cognitive abilities were low, but they were driven by a singular, overwhelming killing intent. They could communicate, coordinate, and wield dark magic, making them a catastrophic threat.
This was the mass-production of demons—the new legion Mephisto had been secretly cultivating while in hiding.
“Turning humans into demons…!”
Magrio, Vice Commander of the Fourth Order of Knights, the Order of Fenrir, bit his lip until it bled.
The academy’s defenders and the Imperial Knights fought a desperate rearguard action against the undead horde, but their numbers were sorely lacking against such formidable dark magic.
“Damn it! They’ve broken through!”
“Prioritize the students’ safety! Protect the academy with your lives!!”
The zombie army took to the sky on tattered wings or charged forward with unnatural speed, unleashing volleys of dark magic. Before long, they breached the academy gates.
The faculty worked tirelessly to evacuate the students, but they couldn’t keep pace with the advancing tide of rot. As the zombies unleashed their spells, the professors fought back, casting defensive barriers to stall the onslaught.
KABOOM!!
But there were simply too many of them.
“Kyah!!”
“Run, quickly!!”
As the students fled in a panic, Magrio charged into the thick of the horde, his sword a blur of steel.
Swish!
Several heads were severed in an instant, but in the exchange, his left arm was caught in a swirl of dark magic. It withered and vanished into nothingness.
“Kugh!”
Blood gushed from the stump of his shoulder, but Magrio merely grimaced. He didn't slow down, swinging his sword relentlessly with his remaining hand.
“Damn bastards! I’m your opponent!!” Magrio roared.
Inspired by his grit, the Imperial Knights rallied behind him, engaging the horde in a fierce melee.
“The enemies are spreading out!”
“Don’t let a single one escape!”
The zombies swarming the campus quickly fanned out in all directions. Their goal was simple: the total massacre of everyone within the academy. Above all else, they prioritized cruelty.
Boom!! Boom!! Boom!!
Suddenly, pale green winds swept across the campus, followed by a rapid-fire succession of explosions. Kicks imbued with concentrated wind mana shattered the zombies, blowing their remains away.
The man leading the ambush was Tristan Humphrey.
Kooooong!!
Nearby, a fist enveloped in the crushing force of stone struck the earth, sending out a shockwave that dispelled the lingering dark magic and pulverized every zombie in sight. That man was Mateo Jordana.
Across the campus, storms of fire, cascading torrents of water, and piercing rock spikes began to thin the horde. These devastating attacks came from the elite of Märchen Academy’s Magic Department: Keridna Whiteclark, Ciel Carnedas, and Lisetta Lionheart.
“Did you think we’d fall just because Isaac’s not here?! I was getting bored anyway! You’re all dead!!”
Rumble!!!
Lisetta laughed wildly, swinging her signature magic weapon, Rock Bat, to unleash tectonic shifts of power.
Other talented students, who had long been overshadowed by Isaac’s brilliance, finally joined the fray. The countless hours these elite talents had spent sweating and struggling were now converted into raw power, poured out relentlessly upon the undead.
The strongest core of Mephisto’s army was currently laying siege to the first campus. This meant that the top-ranking students were more than capable of handling the forces attacking the second campus.
Kagagagak!!!
Blades of wind the color of the midnight sky slashed through the ranks. Any zombies that survived the initial gust were systematically beheaded by Merlin Astrea’s precise swordplay.
Snow White, having mastered the power of Nix, the Night Fairy, steadied her breathing and focused her fighting spirit. As a princess, she had no intention of hiding behind others. She had resolved to fight and protect the students, just as Isaac would have. Merlin watched her, his heart swelling with pride.
“Merlin, let’s head to Duke Hall!”
“Alright!”
Her Majesty has truly grown remarkably.
Märchen Academy had transformed into a chaotic battlefield. Top students, professors, mercenaries, and knights were all locked in a life-or-death struggle against a horde that wielded dark magic with terrifying skill.
Inside Orphin Hall, the Magic Department’s main lecture building, a man was hiding, trembling with primal fear.
“K-kugh…”
It was Marco, Professor Fernando Frost’s assistant and a graduate student of the Magic Department. He was curled into a ball inside a dark closet within the research lab.
The deafening roar of clashing spells and explosions echoed through the walls, vibrating in his bones. He was terrified. Marco couldn't stop his limbs from shaking. It was already too late to run; the path to the shelter had become a war zone.
Should he fight?
Hell no.
Not everyone was a hero. Not everyone could risk their lives to protect others like those brave few outside. Most people simply hid from the storm, praying it would pass them by.
Marco was no different. He was an ordinary man. He wasn't brave, so he feared death. He wasn't strong, so he ran, choosing the path of least resistance just to survive. He had no intention of displaying foolish courage only to meet a pointless end.
Step, step.
“…!!”
Outside the closet, the sound of rapid footsteps approached. Someone had entered the lab.
A chilling mana—a sensation he had felt before—seeped through the cracks. Dark mana. Marco peeked through the narrow slit in the wardrobe door.
Three grotesque zombies entered his field of vision.
“…!!”
Marco slammed his hands over his mouth, stifling his breath. The zombies sniffed the air, searching for the scent of living flesh as they scanned the room. It was only a matter of time before he was discovered.
“Guh, ugh…”
Tears welled in his dark, sunken eyes. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. Marco wanted to live. There was so much he had yet to achieve.
Suddenly, his life flashed before his eyes—a panorama of regrets and unanswered questions. Oddly enough, the first thing he wondered was why he had never managed to be in a relationship.
He remembered a girl from his youth. He had finally summoned the courage to give her a letter. The next day, she had handed him a reply. It was the most excited Marco had ever been. With a pounding heart, he had opened the letter.
Sorry, but you’re not really my type… Honestly, your face isn’t exactly pleasant to look at. And dating someone gloomy like you? It’s just not for me. Sorry.
A few days later, he had seen her walking arm-in-arm with a handsome student. Marco could only watch from the shadows. The peak of excitement he had felt was replaced by a towering, hollow sense of loss.
Dragging his feet, Marco had retreated to the library. He poured himself into magical studies, tears streaming down his face.
If he had given up on love, why had he become a graduate student here instead of fulfilling his dream of joining a prestigious Magic Tower? Because he had tried and failed, over and over again. The Märchen Academy diploma felt like his only lifeline, a way to aim for the top without actually being the best.
Unlike other graduate students, he wasn't passionate about his research. Marco had stayed in academia simply because he wanted to escape the real world—because he needed to feel like he was doing something.
His whole life had been a series of retreats. He had grown accustomed to running, and the fiery passion of his youth had long since flickered out.
…Why did I keep running?
Being rejected was fine. His life hadn't ended because of it. Failing to enter the Magic Tower was fine, too. If he had just found a better way to study, worked harder, and stayed focused, he wouldn't have had these regrets. He might have even succeeded.
Creak.
The closet door swung open.
The zombies, oozing foul dark mana, loomed over him. Only when faced with the end did Marco regain the sense of self-doubt he had buried under layers of complacency.
He regretted it all. He wished he had tried harder—tried until it killed him. He wished he had lived with more earnestness.
“Hic…”
Marco gasped for air, tears carving tracks through the grime on his sunken cheeks. The disparity in mana was obvious. These creatures could crush him as easily as an insect.
“…?”
But for some reason… the zombies just stared at him blankly.
“Guh…?”
Sobbing, Marco looked up at the monsters in confusion.
[Hu… human?]
[You fool… Can’t you tell just by looking? This one’s on our side…]
[You’re right… Indeed, with a face like that, he can’t be human. The human scent must be coming from his clothes…]
[Grr… Loafing around in a place like this… Follow Lady Mephisto’s orders immediately. Torture and massacre the humans as cruelly as possible…!]
The zombies clicked their tongues in disdain, turned their backs on him, and began to leave the lab.
“…Guh?”
Marco stood frozen, unable to process what had just happened. He stepped out of the closet, staring at the door where the monsters had exited.
“…”
The relief of survival was nowhere to be found. Instead, an unbearable, white-hot rage boiled up from the depths of his soul. His tightly clenched fists shook with tremors. The source of his anger was the mountain of regrets that had weighed down his life—and the final insult of being mistaken for a monster.
“Guh…!”
Marco snatched up his magic tool and stormed into the hallway, his wizard’s robes billowing behind him.
[Human!]
“Tch!”
In the corridor of Orphin Hall, three zombies had cornered Professor Fernando Frost and a small squad of academy defenders.
Boom!!
Both sides unleashed their magic without hesitation, the impact shattering walls and tearing up the floorboards.
[…?]
At that moment, one of the zombies sensed a presence behind them. It turned its head to see a man whose face was cast in deep shadow. It was the same man from the closet—Marco.
“Marco?”
As Professor Fernando called out in surprise, Marco rolled a spherical magic tool toward the zombies’ feet.
Thud.
The device hit the floor and hissed, releasing a thick cloud of gas.
Sssss!
[What is this?!]
The gas was a concentrated extract of Jerome mushroom spores, native to Elt Island. Its primary effect was the violent disruption of mana circuits. While it wasn't powerful enough to kill the zombies outright, in a high-stakes magical standoff, even a momentary lapse was fatal.
[Gaagh!]
The elemental spells unleashed by Professor Fernando and the defenders surged forward, overwhelming the faltering zombies. Simultaneously, Marco raised his hand and channeled every ounce of his frustration into a lightning spell.
Crackle!!
A jagged bolt of chain lightning tore through the air, striking the zombies. Professor Fernando followed up instantly, firing dozens of magic bullets that pierced their rotting forms.
The zombies collapsed with guttural groans. Marco approached them, his face a mask of pure fury.
Crackle!!
One final bolt of lightning rained down, reducing the zombies to ash-like particles that scattered in the wind.
“Guh…!!”
With a trembling voice, Marco let out a raw, triumphant roar.
He screamed to the heavens that he wasn't a zombie like them—that he wasn't a coward who had abandoned his humanity for a contract with demons. It was as if he had reclaimed the hope of his youth. For the first time in a very long time, Marco felt truly alive.
“Marco…?”
Even the ever-stoic Professor Fernando was stunned. It was the first time he had ever seen his assistant express such raw, unbridled emotion.