Chapter 461
Chapter 461
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 461
>Chapter Title: It's Already Too Late, Though
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Meanwhile, at that moment.
Deep Layer Stairs.
Boom—!
An explosion rocked the space, thick dust blanketing everything.
It was dust too unnatural to be mere fallout from a blast, completely blocking all sight.
And just as that dust began to clear...
"You filthy pest...!"
Kahazar spat curses through his rage boiling over from head to toe. The pest in question was the 11th Elder, but Kahazar's fury had nowhere to go.
Why?
The reason was simple.
...The 11th Elder had fled.
It was enough to make Kahazar's blood boil.
How could it not?
He had endured the white magic circle and the 'Dagger of Equilibrium,' borne the 11th Elder's curse, and little by little seized the advantage. Victory had been so close.
Just one step.
One step forward...
Just once.
All he needed to do was drive magic straight into that heart...
- Thud!
A colossal shockwave from the depths.
In that overwhelming presence, he hesitated—just for a split second.
But the 11th Elder didn't miss that gap.
In the end, all Kahazar could claim was...
Drip, drip—
A single arm, blood dripping steadily.
The wound torn from the shoulder socket would be life-threatening for any ordinary person, but his foe was a Gold Demon Horse.
An elder, no less.
'...He won't die from that.'
So how could his gut not twist?
He should have finished him off properly.
...That aside, though.
"Hoo..."
Kahazar took a deep breath to calm his anger. He yanked out the 'Dagger of Equilibrium' the 11th Elder had left behind and fixed his gaze on the stairs leading deeper.
What to call it?
"...It's immense."
He didn't need to see it to know.
Down there...
'A monster lurks.'
A presence so chilling it made his spine crawl—an unidentified something horrifying beyond shivers.
Truth be told, 'monster' didn't quite fit.
Something that could instill fear in a grand magus, master of a prestigious house, couldn't be just any monster.
And so?
"..."
Kahazar stared piercingly at the stairs descending into the depths.
He couldn't tear his eyes away.
It felt like peering into the abyss, his soul being drawn in. An irresistible pull.
Terrifying yet intriguing, intriguing yet spine-chilling.
Yes... exactly.
A tense thrill, like glimpsing something forbidden.
'Just one step...'
One step, and he could see it.
That's what he thought—right then.
"Stop."
"..."
Kahazar turned to the hand blocking his path. It belonged to Pahren.
"That's far enough. Any further is too dangerous."
"Dangerous?"
Kahazar narrowed his eyes.
Irritation flared.
But that passed quickly. Composing himself, curiosity overtook the annoyance.
Pahren had said 'dangerous,' after all.
What did that mean?
"There's something down there even an archmage would fear?"
"Yes."
"...Hm."
Kahazar's sly grin faded as he grasped the gravity, letting out a low hum.
"...That serious?"
He knew full well the thing lurking below was shocking. It was impossible not to.
But he hadn't taken it that gravely.
Because he had the greatest mage of all time, the archmage, on his side.
...That was why Kahazar viewed the situation more optimistically than Demeia or the Judge of Jamal.
He considered Pahren—no, Demeia, the Judge of Jamal, and Aster—as allies.
Outsiders might clash over interests, but against the enemy Salvatium, they wouldn't fracture. He believed that.
But.
'This is pretty bad...'
By Kahazar's judgment, the gap between Pahren and himself was vast.
With a grimoire, who knows—but without one, it was certain defeat.
If even Pahren spoke of fear so calmly...
'...Do we stand a chance?'
He didn't know.
So, what to do...
'Go down? Or not?'
Going down now was suicide. But retreating like this...
'It feels all wrong.'
As he pondered.
"...Too late."
"Too late?"
Kahazar tilted his head.
That instant.
Tap, tap—
From the deep stairs below, a faint sound echoed. Like... yes, lightly slapping a wall with a palm.
So soft. Yet...
Tap, tap. Tap-tap-tap. Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tap!
The sound burrowing into his ears made Kahazar's body hair stand on end. But the change didn't stop there.
From those deep underground depths, something was rising.
'...Mist? Water?'
It looked like mist or water welling up, but in truth, it was neither.
It was...
Hands.
Pale hands.
Bloodless pale hands—thousands, no, tens of thousands. Tapping with tap-tap sounds against stairs, walls, ceiling. Each tap birthed new hands from the struck spots to tap again.
Even now...
Tap, tap. Tap-tap-tat-tat—!
...At that grotesque sight, Kahazar narrowed his eyes.
"What the hell...?"
Forbidden magic? Something like that?
Undead?
No, its nature didn't matter.
His instincts screamed.
Danger.
The moment crisis hit, Kahazar drew mana. A lump surged from his core, seizing the surrounding mana.
'Whatever it is...'
Before the ice of Soulreave, it would shatter to dust.
Crack, craaaack...
Chill spread from Kahazar. The spreading cold froze everything around.
Air... even the mana in the atmosphere, in dreadful frost.
"It won't work."
"What?"
Pahren didn't explain—instead, he grabbed Kahazar's nape and pulled back. A wise choice.
Craaaaaack—!
Crush!
Hands burst through the ice like an explosion. That wave slammed where Kahazar had stood.
"What...?"
Barely escaping, Kahazar paled at his chilled spine.
Magic? Souls? Spirits?
What is it?
...That's when the voices came.
[Ah, aah, aaah. Ah, where, where, going...]
[Come, come here. Come...]
Overlapping eerie voices.
...Souls of Hermits, irreversibly corrupted.
* * *
A short distance away.
'What the hell is that...'
Clutching his arm torn from the shoulder, the 11th Elder paled at the scene at the deep layer entrance.
Tap, tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap—!
Countless hands drummed everywhere—a shocking sight even to him.
No, the 11th Elder's shock dwarfed Kahazar's or Pahren's.
It was staggering.
To an outsider, it might seem like some soul-based entity, but to him, it was no mere soul.
Indescribable...
'...Something incomprehensible.'
He had seen such a being once in his life.
The being that led Salvatium through countless ages, beyond mortal comprehension.
The Three Fingers.
...Realizing that, the 11th Elder understood.
'The 4th Elder failed.'
She didn't know what happened below.
All she knew was the psychic link to the 4th Elder had severed.
Yet she was certain of the failure.
'That... no human could create it.'
Forbidden magics known to the world twisted natural order transcendentally, but they were still human magic.
Limits were clear.
The closest thing? Yes, the 5th Elder's masterpiece pursuing immortality had a similar vibe.
'A amalgam of crudely fused souls.'
But...
'...No, not quite like that.'
Souls mixed remained souls.
Higher or lower grade, essence unchanged. But this was different at its core.
So, what now?
The 11th Elder pondered.
...The 'Soul Cloak' hiding her presence from Pahren and Kahazar lasted barely thirty minutes.
One slip, and she'd be exposed.
She needed to decide fast...
'The 9th Elder is dead.'
Certain.
The ambiguity was the 4th Elder.
'...The psychic thread didn't snap from death. Something forcibly severed it.'
Two choices.
One: Flee the sanctuary.
Two: Contact the 4th Elder.
She wanted the first.
But.
'The Three Fingers won't stay idle...'
This mission came from the Three Fingers.
Not harsh by nature, but that casual terror was worse.
A being who handled any act as nonchalantly as daily chores.
'Three Fingers, please...'
The 11th Elder cried out inwardly.
If desired, He could hear, command anytime.
Who knows?
He might open a path.
'Please... time's running out.'
...Watching the hand-waves writhe at the entrance, she pleaded more desperately.
The waves seemed bound, unable to leave the entrance— but it wouldn't take long to expand.
And once it did...
'...It's over.'
Decide while they swirled at the entrance.
How long she pleaded.
"..."
A vast presence swept her soul—mind— she shuddered.
'Ah, aah.'
It was Him.
The Three Fingers. Responding, watching here.
'Command me, give the order.'
Kneeling reverently as if in audience, head bowed. Soon, a voice echoed in her mind.
...The Three Fingers whispered lowly to the 11th Elder.
- You can run.
"Aah!"
Salvation in one phrase.
She trembled in gratitude.
Permission to live.
But the joy was fleeting.
- It's already too late, though.
"...?"
Too late for what?
The 11th Elder tilted her head. But briefly. She bolted for the warp gate.
She knew the Hermits' key and the mana pattern to activate it.
Just escape now...
"Wha—what...? Why... why?"
Inserted the key, input the pattern. But...
"Why, why not? Why...?"
A hollow voice echoed.