Chapter 373
Chapter 373
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 373
>Chapter Title: Cheers and Applause
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A certain wild mountain near the front lines of the Hoaksen Kingdom.
“...How dare you!”
With a roar like thunder, thick black magic power surged out in all directions. In an instant, the verdant mountains and fields lost their vitality, withering and twisting.
“El-Elder...”
“Master.”
The Fourth Elder’s followers prostrated themselves, begging for mercy. Even though it wasn’t their sin, they thrashed about for the sake of survival.
But the Fourth Elder’s rage burned all the fiercer, contrary to their hopes.
“You filthy cur... How dare you humiliate me!”
As the black magic power surged, dark clouds gathered. The gentle breeze lost its strength, like the final breath of the dying. The Fourth Elder’s fury was shaking the very natural world.
Yet his followers and Salie didn’t lose their lives because a shred of reason remained in the Fourth Elder.
And that single shred of reason was telling him something.
...It is not right to antagonize the Tower Lord and the 72 Council.
A typical mage might have followed his emotions, but the Fourth Elder always heeded the whispers of reason.
And when necessary, he killed off all his emotions, navigating life solely by reason’s commands.
That was how he had risen to the fourth seat among Salbatium’s elders—and how he had held that position for centuries...
“You dog... bastard.”
But today, the Fourth Elder couldn’t easily suppress the surging rage.
He wanted to rush to Megarium right now... No, sacrifice all his followers here as offerings, descend into a new incarnation, and tear that insolent lump of flesh to shreds.
That intense impulse left his throat parched. His guts felt twisted and on the verge of snapping.
The greatest rage in nearly a century.
But.
Reason whispered endlessly.
...It would be too wasteful to lose followers to something like this. Didn’t he have more urgent business than the Magic Tower and the 72 Council? And...
At the very least, if he was going to strike at him, shouldn’t he do it after learning about the veiled 72 Council and the Magic Tower?
Endless whispers.
In truth, reason was another self to the Fourth Elder. At moments of choice, it held even greater sway than his base nature—the true dominant self.
Amid the boiling emotions, the Fourth Elder listened to that dominant self’s voice. Endlessly, endlessly, as if brainwashing himself.
How much time passed like that?
“Hoo—”
A long breath escaped his parched lips. The exhaled breath continued without stopping for a long while.
Fuuush—
Like the hot steam escaping a boiling kettle.
The Fourth Elder vented the rage boiling deep within.
And when his breath finally ceased.
“...I abandon the Infinite Chain.”
Unlike moments before, the Fourth Elder looked up at the sky with cool eyes and spoke calmly.
“Tower Lord... Tch. If I’d gotten my hands on the Tower Lord, things would’ve been easier, but it can’t be helped. It’ll be a bit more troublesome, but I’ll have to find another way.”
“Then...”
One of the followers cautiously spoke up.
Asking what they would use to find the Fragment of Reverse Heaven if they abandoned the Infinite Chain, and how they should move.
The Fourth Elder gave his answer.
“We head to the Horizon of the Abyss.”
“...!”
Shock spread at the Fourth Elder’s words.
The Horizon of the Abyss.
They knew what it was.
In a way, it was the primordial site where the secret vow began.
An ancient secret temple passed down like legend even to Salbatium, which had endured for eons.
They now called “Destrow” a abomination, but in the era when the Horizon of the Abyss functioned, something like Destrow wouldn’t even qualify as one.
And now, he said they were heading there?
The followers were seized with fear. They had no choice but to be.
But unlike them, the Fourth Elder remained composed.
‘The Horizon of the Abyss... This time, it’s been stockpiling power for nearly a millennium, was it?’
It might end up using all that power, but Reverse Heaven was worth it.
So the Horizon of the Abyss meant nothing.
As he reaffirmed his resolve for the vow.
The Fourth Elder closed his eyes against the rage boiling up again. And he repeated that hated name.
‘...Magic Tower Lord.’
Wyibar.
A name he would one day, someday, definitely tear apart.
...But regrettably, the Magic Tower Lord’s misdeeds didn’t end there.
Once more, the plains near Megarium.
“Salbatiiiiiuuuuuuum—!”
A thunderous voice shook the earth, and a beam of light sliced through space. Putting together that drawn-out cry formed this sentence.
- The culprit is Salbatium. The secret society of black mages.
And if one listened more closely, they’d notice the odd rhythm.
- The culprit is, thud thud, Salbatium, thud thud, black mages’, thud thud, secret society, thud thud.
Aster charged toward Megarium, bellowing the name of Salbatium—which had lurked beneath the surface for eons—in a beggar’s harmony.
There was only one thing in his heart.
Justice.
Nothing more.
* * *
Meanwhile, at that same time.
The Empire’s northern front.
A fierce battle raged at the entrance to the great plateau of Maharpart.
“Don’t fall back! Kill!”
“For His Imperial Majesty!”
The Empire’s knights drew their spears and swords, chanting for the Empire and Emperor, while the soldiers howled and charged at the enemy.
The Empire’s well-trained elite troops.
Yet the battle was fierce.
Why wouldn’t it be?
Their opponents were the warriors of Maharpart, survivors of its harsh environment.
Those who took their first steps on horseback, learned a warrior’s song before babbling, and roamed the great plateau’s barren lands with a single blade upon reaching adulthood.
Each and every Maharpart warrior was a born giant and an exceptional shaman to boot.
Among them, the warriors of the Pushk tribe rivaled the top even among the tribes united under the great warrior ‘Oukan,’ who unified the plateau.
So it was only natural that even the Empire’s elites struggled.
But even born warriors couldn’t defy sheer numbers.
“For Mother Earth—!”
“Warriors! In Oukan’s name!”
The Pushk tribe warriors chanted the name of the great warrior Oukan, who unified the plateau, as they pressed on with the grueling fight.
The battle was hellish for both the Imperial forces and Oukan’s assembled Pushk warriors.
“Die!”
Each flash of a knight’s ether bisected a Pushk warrior, spraying blood. But even in death, the warrior didn’t release his sword, its rough blade digging into the knight’s shoulder. As he staggered, Pushk warriors swarmed from all sides, hacking the body to pieces.
A horrific slaughter of killing and being killed.
Warfields turned humans into beasts by nature, but the clash between the Empire and Oukan’s forces took it to extremes.
Everyone here was little more than a beast.
In the midst of that gruesome scene.
“...”
There was one mercenary with hair red as if soaked in blood.
Her height barely topped 160. Slender.
Compared to Oukan’s warriors averaging over two meters, she seemed downright dwarfish, yet she gripped a single sword and crossed the battlefield in silence.
Her steps were neither fast nor slow.
It was an eerie sight.
Amid the madness-roiled battlefield, she looked as peaceful as if in another world.
But when those steps halted, the resulting scene was anything but peaceful.
“You’re decently capable.”
Standing before a warrior mid-slaughter of a knight, with a single word.
By the time that word ended, the warrior noticed the red-haired mercenary. For a brief, very brief moment, he questioned her appearance.
And well he might, for at a glance, she seemed no more than a frail woman.
Only the sword in her hand and the bloodied leather armor proved she was a mercenary.
Without them, her beauty could pass for a noble lady’s.
So any warrior facing her couldn’t help but wonder, though that wonder never lasted long.
“Warrior, behold not with eyes, but with the senses of instinct.”
A shiver.
Her hair stood on end.
Observing her with instinct made it clear.
Just how absurd a monster the woman before him was. What kind of demon from the charnel house.
In that instant, one emotion dominated the warrior’s mind.
...Fear.
But Oukan’s... and the Pushk tribe’s warriors felt fear yet never yielded to it. True warriors.
And this one standing here was no different.
“Mother Earth!”
The warrior invoked a beast spirit through shamanism, swirling ether in his body to bolster his courage.
His already massive frame swelled to nearly three meters in an instant.
A great ritual only warriors acknowledged for their courage among Oukan’s could wield.
Before him, the red-haired mercenary was merely slender.
Undeniably slender...
Yet she smiled. As if delighted beyond measure.
“Good.”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The warrior’s massive greatsword hammered the ground relentlessly, and the mercenary dodged, weaving her body this way and that.
Perilous moments, but the smile on her face didn’t fade.
But only for a moment.
“...Tch.”
Less than five minutes in, the mercenary clicked her tongue in disappointment.
“You’re not enough to draw out my limits either.”
“Nonsense—!”
Just as ‘...ridiculous!’ was about to follow.
Clang.
The warrior’s head soared into the air. A fountain of blood erupted, blooming a rainbow, right after.
The mercenary... no, Shine wiped the blood from her lips with her sleeve and looked up at the sky boredly.
“One step forward. Just one step would’ve sufficed...”
Somehow, not a single one could push her body to its limits.
Partly because her vampire flesh surpassed human bounds, but also due to Shine’s own innate swordsmanship talent.
So, what to do?
‘...Can’t very well discard this prized talent.’
She couldn’t intentionally weaken her body either, so what she needed was an even stronger opponent.
But a stronger opponent...
“In the end, only Oukan will do.”
Shine intuited.
That it was time to end her mercenary play.
“Astaroth, Lerazie.”
“Yes.”
“You two stay here. Do not neglect your training until I return.”
“B-But...!”
Lerazie, sensing her intent, tried to stop her, but Shine slowly shook her head.
“No need for worry.”
Shine knew.
To grow stronger, she needed a desperate deathmatch.
And if she lost and died in that match...
‘...That would simply be my limit.’
With that thought, Shine crossed the battlefield leisurely and set off toward the great plateau.
For Oukan.
To meet Maharpart’s strongest warrior, unifier of the plateau’s tribes.
...Shine walked the blade’s edge once more today.
‘To protect that cunning bastard.’
* * *
Meanwhile, at that same time.
Before the plains of Megarium, soldiers and mages blinked at the unbelievable sight unfolding.
- The culprit is, thud thud, Salbatium, thud thud, black mages’, thud thud, secret society, thud thud.
A thunderous voice echoing from somewhere.
And monsters massacred in an instant.
At the center stood a mage whose age was ambiguous—boy or young man?—wearing a mask.
The mage, caught up in his own excitement, belted out a nonsensical melody at the top of his lungs, but sensing the stares, he stopped singing and turned to the mages.
“...”
“...”
An eerie silence.
The masked mage spoke soon after.
“My grand entrance.”
“...”
“Cheers.”
“...”
“And applause.”
“...”
“By the way, the culprit is the black mages’ secret society, Salbatium.”
A chill wind swept across the plains.
A very... very chill wind.