Chapter 195
Chapter 195
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 195
Chapter Title: Boden
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Boden's fortress was no defensive structure. It resembled a canine tooth thrust toward the heavens, forged from ostentation and dominion. Along the gallery, skulls of slain warriors dangled from pikes in decay, while crows flitted between them.
The path to the fortress lay buried under demon corpses. Steel and rock lay scattered in chaos, forming an arched bridge across the molten lava flowing beneath.
*Rumble...*
Earthquakes of unknown origin occasionally shook the ground. Fernandez proceeded slowly toward the fortress, supported by Kirhas's arm.
"Are you all right?"
*What's that supposed to mean.*
*Pain.*
Black mages were intimately familiar with agony. Offerings to demons prioritized blood, souls, flesh—and the simplest way to obtain them was self-harm.
The myriad tattoos blanketing Feizashi's body held not just ritual significance. They concealed the scars of countless self-inflicted wounds.
For such a man to mention pain was, paradoxically, almost a jest. A light prod to rouse Fernandez's sharpened, frayed senses. Thus, he decided to play along. He smirked.
"The best three perks of acquiring a Religiosa Demonica body? Minimal need for sleep, rapid recovery, and ironclad endurance. Even if both arms shatter, it's bearable."
"That's a relief. Ah, yes. Those Demonica bastards were unnaturally tough. No matter how hard we tore off their limbs, they kept charging doggedly."
Feizashi shuddered dramatically as he spoke. Fernandez let out a chuckle. It cleared his mind a bit more.
*Throb.*
Even so, the pain hadn't vanished. The lifelong tools of his body lay broken, bringing suffering beyond mere neural fire. Every instinctive twitch of his arms, every step, washed waves of torment across his mind.
Still, he could endure. Fernandez steadied his breath. Strength was gradually returning to his gait. Monstrous recovery.
"My benefactor. I'm here."
Whenever Fernandez regulated his breathing, Kirhas whispered in his ear. She repeated it softly yet firmly, as if imparting her vigor. Astonishingly, it helped. Fernandez nodded faintly.
Then, he pushed her away.
"Uh, benefactor?"
"I can walk alone. Kirhas. I must walk alone."
*Shing.*
He swung his left arm behind his back and drew the greatsword. The sharp scrape echoed chillingly. Kirhas glanced ahead in alarm.
*Rumble...*
The gate to Boden's fortress was slowly opening. The massive steel doors, streaked with red rust like molten oil, creaked apart in sync with their approach. Kirhas narrowed her eyes at the sight.
"Benefactor, stay close to me."
"Haha, Kirhas... Don't you stray from me."
Kirhas spoke with grim resolve. She believed Fernandez's crippled arm was solely her fault.
"Such hubris, Boden."
Beyond the colossal gates, at the end of a long colonnade crossing a sprawling garden. Before an altar of brass and steel stood a man.
An elder with a long spear slung over his shoulder gazed down at them with a sinister grin.
*Hubris...? Well, is it not simply inevitability?*
The elder murmured in a low voice. Serpent-like, it pierced the distance without raising in volume.
A hot gust whooshed by. The rain had ceased.
*Asgard is my domain, and you are mere intruders. Mortals. Hubris, hubris. I am king of the Aesir, overseer of victory, war, warriors, magic, and mystery. None among the Aesir are older than I, nor greater.*
*Creak... Thud.*
As Fernandez and Kirhas entered the colonnade, the great doors slammed shut behind them. Rusted hinges twisted of their own accord, bolts dropped to seal it, and iron bars clamped the gate.
"Benefactor. We're trapped."
"Am I?"
Fernandez deftly spun the greatsword in his left hand and gripped it anew. He quickly assessed his condition. Far from peak, facing a mage who had fully claimed his domain—a god at the pinnacle of spirituality.
*Never slain a god before.*
*A fine opportunity.*
A familiar aura emanated from Boden's form. The cloying stench of hellish mana... The black mage's experience and Demonica senses converged on an unmistakable reek of corruption.
Corruption always yielded the same end, regardless. Self-destruction. Power grew, secrets abounded, yet hellish might was debt collateralized against one's soul.
"How many of your kin have you slain?"
*Countless.*
"How many souls offered in sacrifice?"
*Too many to count.*
Their exchange wove like verse. They advanced slowly, eyes locked, devoid of enmity—like friendly sparring.
Only familiarity.
*You feel familiar. You've mastered hell's secrets... I see indelible sin in your soul's weave.*
Boden's single eye gleamed unnaturally. A three-eyed crow fluttered down onto his shoulder.
"Once, perhaps."
*If you've craved this power, this knowledge, you know your odds are nil. But I respect your soul's caliber. The Great Serpent takes keen interest in you. Now... Restrain the wench at your side and kneel before me.*
*Whoosh...*
In an instant, Fernandez's heart pounded fiercely. A sticky, scorching wind tousled his hair. Vision tinted red, his sword-grip tightened involuntarily.
He ground his teeth. Magic. A mental spell. The fortress's decorations and architecture intertwined into a ritual enclosure, where Boden dominated minds with mere words.
"Urk."
"Keep your wits, Kirhas."
Kirhas's eyes reddened. Boden targeted not just Fernandez. She bared her fangs, growling at him.
*Now, kill. Embrace your fate.*
The whispers intensified. The ground seemed to quake. Fernandez sensed no physical tremor. Boden inscribed commands directly into the depths of his soul, the realm of instinct.
"Shut up!"
*Clang!*
Kirhas drew her blade with a snarl. Bloodshot eyes glared ferociously ahead. Boden smirked at her.
*Strong-willed child. Now, mortal. I shall shatter your soul's proud edge. Take my hand, kiss it. Submit to Aesir authority. I grant you a fragment of true power—the wisdom of Runeglyphs.*
"I've already mastered them."
*What?*
Fernandez shoved aside the trembling Kirhas. His scarred body spun dizzily; the sword-arm felt distant. Exhausting. He sighed. He needed rest. The temptation—promising power and ease—was potent.
Yet he tempted others far more than succumbed. Pacts baited with strength, vouchers of rule, contracts of safety... He lurked at their edges, the other merely stamping his terms.
Thus, no issue. Mere mental magic. Madness and seduction were familiar. Black mage tactics—he mastered them.
"Do you recall the War of the Heavens, Aesir?"
*I was born before that era, from primordial visions of antiquity.*
"Then you know the elf Maleyrn."
*That brat who claimed mastery of a thousand magics. Clever child who slew his own god and stole divinity.*
*Whoosh.*
Fernandez extended his sword-arm. Bandages coiled around his forearm ignited and peeled away on their own. Beneath lay tattooed skin.
Malenglyph. Maleyrn's synthesis of northern Runeglyphs into a new ritual system. Rooted in Runeglyphs, their structured weave and causality—even divine—yielded to...
*Crackle.*
Ten Thousand Streams Return to One. Amid myriad magical schools worldwide, one hundred fifty infused with demons and hell's secrets. From those, fifteen core sects refined...
The ultimate school amalgamating every spell, rite, and offering from all: [Ensorcery].
Bandages crumbled to ash, tattoos exhaled black smoke line by line. Simultaneously, a halo blazed above Fernandez's head.
*Mage...? Ha, daring to counter the Aesir of Magic with spells?*
Fernandez ignored Boden's sneer. He simply stepped forward. *Click.* The hilt chilled.
As an ensorcerer, in his final years—when he could claim founding a school—he had no peers in spellbattles.
Fernandez raised his smoking arm, glaring at Boden.
"Did you truly deem yourself wise? That power yours? Easily gained, easily lost. Ever pondered what you forfeited for it?"
*Every choice bears opportunity cost. I gained incomparable might. This mana, this world obeys me!*
*Rumble!*
Boden roared, swinging his spear. The air convulsed; emerald lightning crashed atop Fernandez. Potent bolts blanketed vision. Boden bellowed into the chaos.
*Hubristic fool, daring to sermonize me! Realize your weakness—die in misery!*
"Do so, if you can."
*Whoosh.*
From the fading lightning emerged unscathed Fernandez. He advanced, mudras shifting ceaselessly.
*Die! Die!*
*Boom! Kwang!*
Bolts struck, steel spikes thrust, black chains constricted from all sides, green mists poured. Boden unleashed dozens without mudra or incantation.
This fortress was his demesne; the air's mana heeded his words. Sadarkelia's gifted hell-mana fueled his heart with omnipotence.
*I am invincible.* Boden laughed amid the barrage. *My choice was right!*
Yet from the cleared space, Fernandez stepped forth again.
*Why...?*
"Magic must be arcane, somber, exalted beyond mortal ken. You cast aside godhood. That power isn't ascension—mere afterimage of your burned divinity."
His hand spun a mudra. Precision mana wedges struck rival spells mid-weave, nullifying them. Near-instant counter to every knotting incantation.
Spells shattered, hell-mana scattering brilliantly. Like pouring rain, their remnants cascaded overhead.
Through it, Fernandez walked steadily. Boden screamed spells; Fernandez rent the gaps, demolishing magic. One more step. Now mere warrior's reach apart—close quarters.
"For kin-slaying, abandoning godhood, pacting demons, murders and massacres for selfish gain, arson and abetment, threats and schemes disrupting the material order—in judgment of heresy, the inquisition begins. Boden."
*Mage impudence! By what right judge a god? I am king, judge, law of northern jotun!*
"Godhood—"
Fernandez roared, clutching his greatsword.
"—is not mere dominion! Gods are beacons, exemplars for faithful. You are no god—fallen remnant! You forsook divinity for power, weakening yourself thereby. Boden!"
*Silence!*
*Shrieeek!*
Boden thrust his spear. Fernandez twisted his left arm, deflecting. Heavy force jarred it numb. Overuse of Runeglyphs seared nerves.
Melee taxed more than spellbattle. Like Fernandez, Boden was mage and warrior; weakened divinity lowered spell tier, but corruption's physical might endured.
Boden swung to sunder mountains, crumble walls. *Clang!* The greatsword parried skyward. Insufficient strength. One arm fell short. Fernandez ground teeth, feeling his limp right arm.
*Shrieeek!*
*You wield less than half your lip's force! Good. The play ends!*
Boden lunged with a howl. Too late to dodge. Better brace for the pierce, hurl himself—
"Benefactor."
Then Kirhas seized his right arm, leaping in. She sharply deflected the incoming spear, standing before him.
*Vermin dare!*
Boden rebuilt his spell. Fernandez aside, the beastkin wench fell to simple mind-magic. His incantation knotted swiftly, mana coiling in air.
*Crunch!*
But wedges hammered the weaves' joints, words' gaps—shattering the spell. Hell-mana scattered rainbow-like—
"Be my shield, Kirhas."
"Let my benefactor be the shield. I'll handle the blade."
Fernandez chuckled at her spirited retort. Behind her, he released the greatsword, hand darting to his sword-belt. *Click.* Metal rasped as his arm rose over her shoulder.
Intricate gears whirred. Dwarves who once sealed great demons—their magical engineering pinnacle in his grasp. Overlay spells: [Construct], [Destroy], [Sever], [Beacon]!
*Clang!*
Boden's spear rebounded off Kirhas's blade, jarring her body. Yet she held. Lips bleeding, she clenched teeth, enduring.
Thus, as master, respond in kind. *Click.* Round chambered, gears spun hammer to cock. Thumb caressed sear; index slipped smooth into trigger.
Sever his hell-link. The pact with Sadarkelia for forsaken godhood. Rupture that suffices. In the mana-whirling colonnade, Fernandez held breath, sighting the gauge.
As Boden raised his spear to hurl—
"Holy Pantheon, grant blessing. Bastard. I pronounce sentence: execution!"
*Bang!*
From the hand on Kirhas's shoulder exploded thunder, shredding Boden's neck.