Chapter 132
Chapter 132
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 132
Chapter Title: Abyss Cliff
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Species without wings, forever bound to the earth, were strictly forbidden from approaching the wyverns' lofty habitat—the Abyss Cliff.
"Kieeeek!"
The one-eyed wyvern named Gula, lounging lazily atop the cliff, received a report from a scouting wyvern.
"Grrr... They've... come..."
Gula's massive maw split wide in a grotesque grin.
The orcs and cyclopes were, as expected, struggling through the lesser drakes, steadily wearing down their strength.
The humans venturing into land the lesser drakes avoided was a minor hiccup, but they numbered only a handful anyway.
"The... time... has... come."
Flap!
As Gula unfurled its wings, the surrounding wyverns followed suit, letting out pleased cries.
"Kieeeek!"
"Kieeeek!"
Just as it prepared to lead its kin into the hunt.
Step.
"...?"
A sound too faint and delicate for wyvern footsteps reached its ears.
"Heh heh... That fool. So bold."
An old human stood there, emitting an unsettling chuckle.
"You are undoubtedly the finest masterpiece of my research... But if left as you are, you'll be pitifully hunted down and lose everything."
The old human muttered incomprehensible words and pulled a round object from his bosom, approaching Gula.
Enraged by his nonchalant arrogance, Gula lunged to devour him in one bite—but...
"Gr...rrr...?"
For some reason, its body wouldn't move. As if rebelling against the very idea of opposing this old human.
"In that case, it might be better if I take your 'rank' for myself. Rationality would only amplify your suffering, so in a way, it's for your own good."
As the old human drew near, Gula felt its own head lowering.
"Gr...rrr... Hu...man. What... is... this..."
Why was its head bowing on its own?
Why did this tiny human stir an unfamiliar emotion unlike any before?
That emotion was called 'fear'—but Gula couldn't comprehend it.
"Heh heh. No need to understand. I must destroy that damned divine realm at any cost."
Shuuuk!
The human's orb drew something from Gula's forehead amid more baffling words.
No, nothing physical emerged. It was a sensation only Gula could feel.
"Gr...rrr... Raaargh!"
As the 'rank' built upon its soul was ripped away, excruciating pain stabbed its head, leaving Gula with nothing but screams.
"Now, time to greet them."
The old human—Jenos's Pale One—glanced at Gula, now sprawled limply without its 'rank,' then turned as if nothing had happened. ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Luna's pill dissolved like water in the mouth, swiftly healing the fatal aura wounds that even healing potions couldn't touch.
'Even better than the rumors.'
This pill was made by compressing the divine power of Luna, the archbishop hailed as the pinnacle of support and healing magic.
In his past life, even in the Alliance, her creations were treated like extra lives.
How much time passed? Upon opening his eyes, he immediately checked his body.
'External wounds perfectly healed, internal injuries no major issue.'
"Y-Young Master. Are you alright?"
Beskin asked worriedly, and Jerome nodded to him.
"Yes, the effect is incredible. No poison left, so everyone, don't worry and tend to your wounds. I'll stand watch."
With Jerome's declaration, Beskin and Saladin led the way as Aria and Set also swallowed their pills, channeling aura, mana, and heterogenous power.
Though Jerome's wounds were the worst, the others had their share of injuries and depleted energy. Absorbing the pill's power would take at least thirty minutes.
While they focused on recovery, he wrapped up his conversation with Luna, who beamed at him.
"Archbishop Luna, now no one can eavesdrop on us."
"Hee hee! So?"
Luna kept her cheerful smile.
"Archbishop Luna. If I save your mother, would you sincerely pledge yourself to the Alliance—no, to me?"
Her smile cracked at his words.
"...Hee hee, what do you... mean...?"
"Your mother's being held hostage by the Golden Lion Church, right? Am I wrong?"
Her face sharpened.
"...How did you know?"
In his past life, the day she betrayed the Empire was the day her mother died.
'If she switched sides right after her mother's death, she can't truly be loyal now.'
But he couldn't reveal his foreknowledge outright.
"Can't say, obviously. But once this is over, I promise to rescue her. What do you say?"
His unexpected offer tempted her.
"......"
Yet she hesitated to extend her hand.
'That's as far as we go this time.'
No one fills their belly on the first bite.
He withdrew from the pondering Luna without regret.
"Looks like everyone's finishing up. Think it over."
He then began guarding those who completed their meditation.
"......"
He felt Luna's conflicted gaze on his back, but he didn't rush.
There was still plenty of time before returning to Banten.
With Luna's pills healing their wounds, the group headed straight for the Abyss Cliff.
The destination of the one obsessed with two things was obvious.
With the Holy Empire's faithful he hated all dead, Pale One would head only to his 'creation'—the wyvern lair.
"Hey, you sure you're okay? I've got nothing left."
Saladin said, eyeing the cracked and shattered Mimi from Marquis Crank's blow.
Kikik, kikik.
Whoever supplied it, Mimi—withstood a master-level aura strike and still moved under Saladin's puppet control.
Combat was out of the question, though.
"Same for me. Dumped all my poisons on Marquis Crank's feet—might not even work."
Nene, who'd emptied her arsenal at the marquis's base, was hollowed out.
"Can't count on Hatan either, time-wise."
True.
Waiting for Hatan, Brontes, or Vauckrak meant the Pale One would be fully prepared.
Set and Aria were perfect counters for his abilities anyway.
So this time, it had to be Beskin and Jerome.
Beskin met his gaze and gave a curt nod, eyes conveying resolve.
-If needed, I'll unlock stage two.
Clear even without words.
'Not happening.'
Stage two unlock was irreversible. He couldn't allow it for mere undead disposal here, lost to history.
'I'll handle it.'
As they walked aimlessly, the wind grew fiercer aloft.
A gorge with relentless gales through narrow gaps.
Among Dragon Mountains' myriad races, the wyverns' home admitted no intruders: the Abyss Cliff.
He'd planned detection magic via Aria, but no need.
Jenos's Pale One stood squarely at the path to the cliff, awaiting them.
"...You've come, you wretched tomb robbers."
Crackle!
Sparks danced from Pale One's fingertips at their appearance.
"Never thought you'd survive over the Empire dogs, but all the better."
With the ignited lightning magic, black energy rose from his other hand.
Death Touch, high-tier magic deemed usable only by liches.
"Without divine power, you lot have no defense against this."
Crackle!
"I'll obliterate you all here!"
Pale One's lightning arced toward the group.
Rumble!
Jerome, at the front, summoned aura and steel.
"!"
"That's it?"
Unlike expected tension, Pale One's lightning was far weaker than anticipated.
Nothing like the fused power with Marquis Crank earlier.
'Wounds not fully healed?'
All the better for him.
"Blocked lightning? Try this!"
Pale One's eyes gleamed as he blinked forward.
Death Touch.
A high-tier black magic draining life upon touch, exclusive to greater undead.
But.
"A mage attempting close combat with me?"
Only if it connected.
No way a mage's sluggish moves could tag his Pankration-honed body.
Crunch!
Pulling Pale One's life vessel from his bosom, he hurled it back.
Whoosh!
"Aaaargh!!"
Azure flames erupted over Pale One's body.
Flames devouring the undead without heat.
Yet Pale One writhed in agony.
"Nice one!! No big deal, huh?!"
Saladin cheered at the anticlimactic end.
"......"
But Jerome couldn't smile.
'Too easy.'
Even half-souled, Pale One knew he couldn't match a martial artist up close.
Yet risking Death Touch? And such feeble lightning?
'Feels like fighting an empty husk.'
Reading his doubt?
"Ugh... Heh, heh heh..."
A sinister laugh escaped the writhing Pale One amid blue flames.
"I suspected... That madman Hon truly handed over the life vessel."
Flesh burned to bone, yet he grinned through pain.
"Heh heh. With your sole life vessel spent, no stopping me now. I'll concede this round... Looking forward to it... Our next meeting..."
Mouth charred, he fell silent.
The exposed bones amid ashes.
Not human bone—a clump of paper.
"This...?"
"Impossible."
Aria's face hardened approaching the faded flames.
"Dummy magic... A lost art from tomes, creating a clone infused with intent."
The Pale One before them was a shell of a shell.
A fake.
"W-What?! That's bad! We used the life vessel on a fake—how do we kill him now?!"
Saladin panicked.
The undead's immortality broken only by shattering his life vessel.
They'd wasted it on a dummy.
"Knows himself best, after all."
"What nonsense—huh?"
Saladin yelled, then gaped at the small vial Jerome pulled out.
"What?! That's the life vessel! So the other was...?"
"Hon told me. His Pale One wouldn't die easy in a pinch. Might use a dummy, so test with the mini-vessel at the end."
"Even that was...?"
"Fake, obviously."
"......"
The group's expressions turned strange. Tricking even himself. What kind of mage was Jenos? ◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "As I thought."
High in the unreachable sky, beyond Jerome's party's sight.
At heaven's edge, Jenos's Pale One smirked as the paper doll from his bosom burned to ash.
The vessel's life force was precisely calibrated to incinerate the dummy.
"A decision worthy of me. Yes. You and I are mirrors. You couldn't fail to predict my moves."
Pale One turned with a grin.
"Hon, I know your schemes, but it won't go your way."
He drew from his bosom what he'd taken from Gula's head.
A gem.
Dazzlingly brilliant, yet ominously devouring light in black hues.
"...Hon, you're wrong. Our vengeance hasn't failed yet."
Pocketing the gem, Pale One gazed at the tomb robbers who'd slain his dummy.
"As reward for slaying the Empire dogs in my stead, I'll leave that husk to you."
Muttering cryptically, he flew slowly toward somewhere.