Chapter 76
Chapter 76
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 76
>Chapter Title: Huh? You Don't Think So?
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I strolled through the serene Hamern Great Forest with languid steps.
‘This is... well...’
Should I feel honored?
The one who invited me... the Golden Horse Sorcerer, of course—though his identity as such hadn’t been revealed yet.
In any case, the guy presumed to be the Golden Horse Sorcerer had been awfully courteous.
Squelch.
A single insect familiar crushed beneath a tiny mana bolt.
“And he’s even guiding me with familiars.”
And that’s not all.
“He’s cleared the path ahead, too.”
It had been quite a while since I’d left the Second Base Camp, yet nothing obstructed my way.
In other words, not a single monster in sight.
I didn’t know what trick he’d pulled, but it was clear the Golden Horse Sorcerer had paved the road for me.
Walking through such a peaceful Hamern Great Forest like this—what was the word for it?
“Breathtaking.”
The great forest, preserving its pristine nature untouched.
If you ignored the monsters, it was wondrous, almost mystical in its tranquility.
A landscape that inspired awe all on its own.
How long had it been since I’d had a moment of leisure like this?
Meanwhile.
‘Salvatium, huh... Come to think of it, we’ve had quite the connection since my past life.’
After the Trial of the Spire incident.
I’d recalled it several times, prompted by Prezen.
Prezen, fleeing from my pursuit in my previous life.
That had always been a mystery.
Even if he’d mastered forbidden magic, he wasn’t skilled enough to evade my tracking, nor was he some expert in escape.
But.
‘An artifact that constructs a magical barrier.’
And...
‘Slot in Salvatium, and it all fits.’
Prezen had an accomplice aiding his flight.
Sure, for whatever reason, he’d eventually been caught by the Decullans and met a miserable end.
Squelch.
I passed by another familiar, dispatching it with a mana bolt.
‘Come to think of it, did he screw me over once?’
By the circumstances, it seemed that way.
Of course, this was all just my guess—if it was accurate, that is. But the facts didn’t matter.
No point brooding over it; the incident was long gone.
No way to uncover the truth now.
I’d purged my inner demons along with Prezen, shaking off those past emotions entirely.
‘Even if he did screw me, whatever...’
By nature, I’m a magnanimous sort—I brush off petty grudges from the past without a second thought.
Especially potential grudges with such murky facts.
However.
‘They’re guys I’ll have to clash with eventually.’
Salvatium, lurking in the shadows for ages, scheming away.
Their tenacity defies imagination, their operations unfolding slowly over vast spans of time.
Decades, even centuries—they don’t care, as long as they advance their plots.
So.
‘Time to give them a proper thrashing, don’t you think?’
With every step I took.
I layered my aura along the footprints I left behind.
Shhh—
Pumping out my presence in earnest, the ambient mana screamed—not quite on par with my senior’s, but close enough.
He was probably watching this spectacle through his familiars.
But this wasn’t some half-baked intimidation tactic.
It was my own brand of courtesy toward the arrogant host who’d sent such a brazen invitation.
‘Yeah, arrogant as hell.’
Hiding in the shadows, plotting filthy deeds like some gutter rat—and pulling off a stunt like this.
How dignified it all seemed... well, hmm.
Not that I was pissed off at this villainous spectacle straight out of a bad novel or anything.
Nor was it some petty grudge from my unclear past life bubbling up.
And definitely not because he kept sending those damn familiars to annoy me nonstop.
No, just... yeah.
“The sky’s so clear today.”
The sky’s clear, that’s all...
Plip, plop.
Raindrops falling from the ink-black clouds overhead.
“...That’s clear enough...”
Before I could finish, a monstrous downpour crashed down from the heavens.
Roooaaar—
“Damn it.”
The great forest was already thick with underbrush, making visibility tough.
Now, with the torrent filling the world, I couldn’t see an inch ahead.
Yeah, that’s it.
‘The weather’s perfect for a beatdown.’
That’s why.
“Man, perfect weather for a thrashing, huh.”
Really, it was just the damn weather.
Not because I’m narrow-minded or anything.
“You think so too, right?”
I scooped up an insect wriggling helplessly in the downpour, locking eyes with it.
“Huh? You don’t think so?”
If not, tough luck.
Squelch.
Whether it agreed or not didn’t matter.
Sufficient violence always commands unconditional support.
* * *
At the heart of a great tree in the forest stood a massive hollow.
Laughter leaked from the space impervious even to the pounding rain.
“Heh, heh heh. This guy... what a lunatic.”
Belloc chuckled merrily, eyes closed.
Scenes and voices transmitted through the familiar.
- The sky’s so clear today.
When had ink-black clouds rolled in over the sky, and here he was, casually commenting on the weather.
And that’s not all?
Sauntering along as if out for a leisurely walk, parting the brush without a care.
The roguish vibe oozing from his every gesture made it feel less like the great forest and more like the back alleys of the Black-White Slums!
Even more outrageous was what he’d said just before severing the familiar link.
- Man, perfect weather for a thrashing, huh. You think so too, right? Huh? You don’t think so?
As if victory were a foregone conclusion.
Speaking so calmly and composed.
Yet the terrifying aura rippling around him was impressive indeed.
‘As expected... a hunt-worthy prey.’
That’s why Belloc was delighted.
One of his own kind.
The moment he laid eyes on the masked mage, he’d sensed not prey, but a fellow hunter.
But how many had disappointed him after that initial impression?
The old war mage, famed for fearing nothing...
- Spare me, please spare me. I have a young granddaughter. Without me, that child...
Had he learned fear with the passage of time?
Facing death, he begged for his life, knowing full well it was futile.
Pitiful beyond measure—but not the face Belloc craved.
It had even soured his passion for collecting.
And that wasn’t all?
- Y-you bastard... Do you know whose disciple I am? My master is...
The mage renowned for his pride turned out no better than trash.
His magic was mediocre, the rumors overblown; when Belloc set a trap, he didn’t even try to fight, just bolted.
Worthless prey.
But this one?
Slurp.
Belloc licked his lips like a serpent.
‘So far... he’s living up to expectations.’
He’d worried great hopes would lead to great disappointment.
But this time, his eyes hadn’t lied.
This wasn’t some ordinary hunt.
‘Hunter versus hunter.’
A exquisite game where pursuer and pursued vie for each other’s throats.
Not the simplistic thrill of cornering fleeing prey and basking in superiority.
This was an exchange between kindred spirits who understood one another.
“You’d better not disappoint me from here on out. Otherwise, you’re in for some rough times.”
He could guarantee it: no peace even in death.
Before dying, every form of despair and torment a living being could endure.
After, dragged to Solion for eternal postmortem agony.
That said, setting such concerns aside.
‘Let’s see... it’s about time it wraps up?’
Facing the hunt of a lifetime, Belloc hadn’t skimped on preparations.
He cut the familiar link and rose to check his readiness.
That’s when a black mage emerged from the shadows.
“Foreseer, all great rites are complete.”
“Any survivors?”
“As you arranged, thirteen remain, including myself.”
“Hmm, smooth sailing. Understood. Head to the designated spot and await me.”
“As you command.”
The black mage melted back into the shadows.
Belloc glanced at him, then gazed out at the rain-sodden great forest beyond the hollow.
“Indeed.”
A low murmur.
“Like you said, perfect weather.”
He wasn’t one whose mood swung with mere weather.
Yet the forest, shrouded in midday darkness by pitch-black clouds, felt oppressively gloomy.
And the downpour washing the world clean—what of it?
The ultimate prey. A memorable stage for claiming his head.
“You’d better like what I’ve prepared for you... No, heh heh. He’ll have no choice.”
Seventy black mages had answered his call to the Hamern Great Forest.
The dimwits fell behind and died breaching the forest.
In the end, just over sixty completed the summons.
Sixty black mages!
A number that would send empires, kingdoms, or great houses into a frenzy, mustering subjugation forces.
Individually worthless, but en masse, capable of horrors.
However.
Belloc had fed them all into a single great rite.
From over sixty black mages, a special rite left only thirteen.
No, the sacrifices weren’t just black mages. Mercenaries from the Second Base Camp, too—fuel to awaken the rite sealed in the crystal orb.
And the name of this forbidden magic forged by the great rite...
Thirteen Sins.
A kind of curse.
‘This’ll be something else...’
Anticipation welled up.
A great rite demanding dozens of black mages as tribute—he’d never unleashed it himself.
As a mage, curiosity about its power was only natural, even before his Golden Horse Sorcerer title.
No, more than that, what intrigued him was...
[......]
The familiar’s feed. The prey reflected there.
What reaction would this utterly fearless hunter show?
‘You... you’re a great mage.’
He didn’t know for sure.
But in his mind, Belloc dubbed the prey a ‘great mage.’
Already captivating quarry, but spiced with ‘greatness,’ the flavor intensified.
Frankly, given his first impression, it wasn’t an overstatement.
Think about it.
- Well...
A supremely bored voice before the Lord of the Swamp.
- ...that was fun.
What followed was truly...
- Now, let’s end this. You made it fun, so I’ll show you something fun in return.
Mind-boggling.
Shiver.
Recalling it, Belloc trembled.
‘A sight too grand for mere familiars.’
In any case.
‘Thirteen Sins’ was a special gift prepared for that monstrous mage.
And...
Gleam.
Belloc drew a black orb from his robes.
A black sphere reflecting light though none shone upon it.
Within lurked a pitch-black darkness, ominous beyond words.
Vague faces screamed in agony amid the swirling mist.
‘Solion’s plaything is ready, too.’
He’d step in only after all his arrangements had shredded the prey.
Cowardly, perhaps—but Belloc felt no such qualms.
This was a hunt, after all.
And so time passed.
[Is this the last one? See you soon.]
[Crunch.]
The prey crushed the final familiar.
[Foreseer, your marked prey has arrived.]
Even the report from the nearby black mage bearing ‘Thirteen Sins.’
“Open the spirit gate.”
[Yes.]
Soon, the black mage’s vision shared in his mind.
Beyond it, the prey stood leisurely, arms crossed.
He’d surely sensed the black mages’ presence.
Yet there he stood, as if daring them to come at him.
“Begin.”
With that, Belloc stepped into the rain-lashed Hamern Great Forest.
The shared vision would sever soon enough.
Above all.
He wanted to witness the prey’s collapse with his own eyes.
The response came promptly.
[As you command.]
Immediately after.
[Roooaaar...!]
In the shared view.
The heart of the rain-pounded Hamern Great Forest.
Beneath the calmly standing prey, a violet glow shimmered.
[Bzzz—]
An eerie light harboring malice.
This was not Thirteen Sins.
Merely the black mages’ own trap for the prey.
‘Won’t do much, but...’
Even this promised entertaining viewing.
Thus.
The battle commenced.