Chapter 20
Chapter 20
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 20
Chapter Title: The Rationalist Zealot's Combat Method
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Devil worshippers revere devils for various complicated reasons, but the two biggest ones boil down to "corruption" and "power."
Mental corruption from hellish mana. Or fascination with the immense power of hellish mana. In most cases, both come together.
[Kasad's... black manacles, broken by sheer force...?]
"Not time to be surprised yet."
Fernandez rubbed his stiff wrist and gripped his sword hilt. Gian-Kel clacked his jaw and raised a finger.
[Brute strength can't oppose magic!]
"If you were in my state."
Fat chance. Fernandez charged straight into Gian-Kel's embrace, thinking as he went.
No matter how mighty a lich Gian-Kel was, a devil worshipper stripped of his guardian devil's blessing couldn't recover to full strength in just one day.
-Shrriink!
As the black chains lunged for his arm again, Fernandez's blade twisted into the gaps and severed them.
"Your focus is purely on physical phenomena. Kasad's Manacles wield the powers of [Ruin] and [Corruption]!"
The five strands of black chains approaching him were nothing more than physically manifested iron chains conjured by magic.
Not true magic. Just a "lowly trick" clumsily imitating real magic!
As a scholar of magic, Fernandez excelled at grasping the true nature of spells. Chains manifested by magic. Such formless materializations always had physical weaknesses!
-Clang!
The lich panicked and summoned a black spear, hurling it forth. Fernandez twisted his shoulder to dodge and pressed the attack.
"You've weakened, Gian-Kel!"
[You're... a mage!]
Not some cheap street magician fooling citizens with parlor tricks for a few coppers. A true practitioner who mastered an authentic school of magic, delved into its secrets, and manifested its mysteries!
He could feel the ways of a real mage. A delicate, razor-sharp strike targeting the weakest point in the mana structure!
-Clang!
"Haha, yes! This is a magic battle!"
Fernandez was thrilled.
This was a battle of magic! Analysis and comprehension of spells, pinpointing weaknesses. An intricate exchange of precise moves, like solving a logic puzzle.
-Clang!
Black spears and chains flew at him in succession. It was a sudden fierce clash for Fernandez too, but surely the same for the lich.
With his magic tools, relics, and sacrifices unprepared, the lich's available spells must be limited!
'Impressive enough as it is.'
-Indeed. Manifesting three spells at once without proper preparation.
The blade now closed in on Gian-Kel, slicing through the air right before him. Gian-Kel swiftly retreated and deployed a barrier.
-Boom!
The full saint-metal longsword, blessed and wedged into a gap in the barrier, lodged deep. A violent clash of forces erupted. Fernandez's heart pounded wildly, pumping divinity through his aorta.
[You're no inquisitor! A black mage who fights like this?!]
"Hah!"
-Kaboom!
The barrier tore like paper, and Gian-Kel's head—spewing blue soulfire—was right in front of him. Fernandez thrust out his left hand. Gian-Kel recoiled in horror.
-Shrriink!
The chains coiled around his left arm again. Hell runes embedded densely along the chains flashed red. His skin burned.
'This one's the real deal?'
Alarms blared in Fernandez's mind. He slashed hard with the sword in his right hand.
-Clang!
The black spear struck the blade and bounced off, dissolving into smoke. In that brief moment, Gian-Kel retreated far into the nave and clenched his fist.
[What now, inquisitor?]
"I'm a rationalist, Gian-Kel."
If magic was possible, use magic. If strength was possible, use strength. Deploying the right ability in the right place—that was Fernandez's philosophy.
Gian-Kel chuckled and raised a finger.
[A rationalist zealot, eh? Not bad footwork!]
-Fwoosh.
[Let's see you rationalize this.]
Complex mudras intertwined in the air. Fernandez's eyes swiftly read the mana structure and gestures. [Soul Decomposition]... A powerful direct curse from the necromancy school.
This was true magic.
-Shrriink!
"Hngh!"
The chains binding his arm pulled taut. Like something yanked straight from the Sixth Abyss of Hell, he couldn't budge.
'Dual-casting, huh? Impressive even after losing all your power, old timer.'
If he had magic. If he had even a single circuit to manifest it, things wouldn't be like this.
Even against Gian-Kel at full power, he'd have confidence. The lich's mana habits and structures were as clear as day.
-Infuriating...
'Indeed. Winning with magic would've been a real thrill.'
Staring at the approaching fireballs, Fernandez sighed. But he didn't drop his sword. Not yet.
[Die, inquisitor!]
-Fwoom!
Purple fireballs engulfed Fernandez, consuming him. He couldn't even scream.
Not physical flames scorching flesh. A potent curse that shredded the soul and converted it to ether.
-Shrriink.
The chains binding Fernandez snapped under the immense mana and decomposed. Fernandez collapsed, drained of strength. Seeing this, Gian-Kel sighed.
Without any groundwork, this was the limit of what he could prepare. He needed to return to his lab and recuperate.
The mana circuits etched into his withered heart flickered weakly.
A tough fight. A true inquisitor. By a lich's innate life-detection sense, that kid was only sixteen or seventeen. If he grew a few more years and gained experience, could he handle him with his own power?
[O Yekaset. I offer you one follower of the vile pantheon!]
This loot wouldn't satisfy his god much. But bribes were best given often.
The lich slowly approached the fallen Fernandez. He caught the afterimage of the soul crumbling into fragments.
Afterimage...?
Why an afterimage...? The lich halted by Fernandez's head, pondering briefly. His scholarly curiosity and undead survival instinct screamed in conflict.
[Impossible...]
Two souls...? What he'd taken for crumbling soul fragments... Looking closer, it was an intact hunbaek.
[What are you?]
Gian-Kel swallowed dryly and pointed at the soul staring back. Mana swirled at his fingertip, and a spell formed between his intertwined fingers. Now he heard the soul's voice.
-Oh, Gian-Kel. It's been ages since we talked.
[You know me?]
-Back then, your name wasn't Gian-Kel... Anyway, good to see you again, master.
[I never took an apprentice... Who are you?]
-This fellow will explain. Nice meeting you.
This fellow...? Gian-Kel glanced confusedly at Fernandez's corpse. Shattered soul shards hovered around it.
And pure white light. A beam slowly, intensely emanated from his back and chest.
[...Stigmata?!]
Then, a mighty voice echoed in his mind. The lich's psyche shattered momentarily under its vast divinity.
"Thou shalt not fall, nor rest thy body, nor find peace until thy mission is fully complete. This is the authority I grant thee."
'Beit...asser?!”
An apostle of Beitasser?! The lich barely regained his wits and staggered back. This declaration, and that divine spell's nature...
Before the overwhelming voice destroying his spirit, the lich writhed in agony and terror, shrieking.
[The Blessing of Immortality!!!]
"Correct!"
-Shunk!
Fernandez's limp arm twitched, then pierced the lich's heart.
Mana circuits instinctively formed a barrier, but exhausted and unfocused as they were, it was like rusted chainmail.
The soul shards orbiting Fernandez's body rapidly rejoined it, like iron filings to a magnet.
Fernandez slowly rose, shoving the blade deeper.
"Gahk!"
"You've lived long enough, Gian-Kel. Say hi to Yekaset for me."
The heart began crumbling into powder. The mana enveloping the lich dispersed. The blue soulfire dimmed, cracks spiderwebbed across the skull.
"I'll put this to good use."
Fernandez smirked and yanked off the necklace around his neck. The thin chain snapped and fell. He eyed the twitching dark-green pearl in his palm.
[Secret Vision] acquired. Fernandez smiled at the lich's disintegrating corpse.
'Wait for me, Dale Pertus. The Bronze Throne is mine.'
With the Bronze Throne, fights like this would be a thing of the past.
*
"What the hell are they...?"
Karl hid in the shadows, bewildered. He'd heard the name Gian-Kel and scoured the city for traces of a black mage. Tracking the lycanthrope had yielded solid intel.
He'd pinpointed five likely spots for a black mage: three slums, one market street, one underground cemetery outside town.
Mercenaries swarmed the slums like rats, blocking access, so he'd headed to the quiet outskirts cemetery.
Fine up to there. Until the robed figures appeared en masse.
"Ugh... urp... ugh..."
Karl had watched with interest as they ladled horrific, bubbling green gruel from cauldrons.
"Uuugh!!"
Even as they force-fed it to a guard. Not charity—this was poisoning.
"Grraaagh!!!!"
When the guard convulsed and fell, he'd sensed something off but scanned calmly. No real danger yet.
"Grrrk..."
When the guard staggered up undead, Karl's monster encyclopedia flipped open in his mind.
"Walker...?"
Merlinport was a massive port city with extreme population density. Trade had dipped lately, but roads were good, no nearby threats, and Fairn Kingdom's east was vast plains.
A Walker Plague outbreak here...? Fairn's eastern regions would be contaminated in a flash. Like ink in clear water...
"Damn it all. Walker Plague? That's the black magic?"
Not some backwater—this urban outbreak wouldn't stop at hundreds.
If it spread wrong, it could raze half of Fairn Kingdom.
Luckily, this was the outskirts. Tighten a perimeter and... Karl dashed toward the city, thinking.
-Kyaaaagh!!!!
Before seeing the city center ablaze. Karl froze, watching panicked citizens fleeing afar.
A hypothesis formed swiftly in his mind.
'Say they infected guards. Why?'
Why guards specifically...? If they brewed Walker Plague toxin, dumping it in the aqueducts would be best, right...?
Infecting guards meant neutralizing them?
City guards would be outside, right?
Karl quickly climbed a tree. From atop, he eyed the distant outer walls. And the slowly closing gate...
The gate was closing.
'We're screwed.'
A Walker incident in Merlinport.