Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: The First Old Man of the Mountain
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[Chapter 32]
Kya-gagagagak!! The Stone Scales boulder collided with the massive scythe. It failed to pierce the Old Man of the Mountain, but it succeeded in forcing him back.
Damian had held back his power on purpose during their conversation, opting not to prepare his maximum-output black magic—Stone Scales.
"Hoh. Your self-objectification is more impressive than I expected."
Damian used the Stone Scales boulder as a foothold and launched himself toward Paruzan.
There was nothing to gain from dueling the Old Man of the Mountain. It offered zero help toward his revenge.
The wisest choice was to avoid pointless fights. Save only Paruzan and escape. That was Damian's best judgment right now.
"Not so fast."
The Old Man of the Mountain retreated sharply, then drew a diagonal slash with his massive scythe. The Stone Scales boulder split cleanly in two under the attack.
Even if it wasn't at maximum output, the durability of Stone Scales wasn't something that could be shattered by ordinary weapons.
There wasn't the slightest crack on the cross-section. He had precisely sliced through the thinnest gap in the boulder.
It was a movement too precise to come from a blind man. He was surely perceiving his surroundings with some power other than sight.
Leaving the crumbling Stone Scales behind, the Old Man of the Mountain charged at Damian. A powerful overhead slash from above. Damian had no choice but to pull back.
The Old Man of the Mountain blocked Damian's path and removed his cloak, draping it over Paruzan.
The cloak then moved as if alive, wrapping around Paruzan and retreating far to the rear.
"You should abandon any thoughts of escaping with her. I've used a special drug on her. She won't wake easily."
True to his name, the Old Man of the Mountain—clad in the thin robes typical of desert dwellers—had the gaunt frame of an elderly man.
Yet he wielded a scythe as tall as himself without the slightest strain.
'What the hell is that guy's deal?'
He seemed to use aura, but its form differed from that of any ordinary knight, or even any style from anywhere in the Empire. It wasn't the Hashashin method either.
It didn't seem like physical enhancement, nor did it erase his presence. The Old Man of the Mountain's technique felt, in some ways, closer to magic.
Of course, there was no spare time to investigate the secrets of that power. The next attack came flying straight at Damian.
Kyajijijik!! This time, the massive scythe scraped the ground. A dark crimson slash split into three prongs, pressing Damian.
A tangible slash. While this could manifest as a property of aura, it felt different from any slashes he'd experienced before.
Damian leaped back sharply, forming five Stone Scales barriers. There hadn't been much prep time. Naturally, the slashes pierced right through them.
"Pointless stalling."
It was half-true. It was stalling, but not pointless.
Fwoosh. His right arm burst into flames from the elbow down.
This was the maximum firepower he could unleash right now without the Book of Hell's aid. The pain was intense, requiring a moment to catch his breath.
He didn't know the principle behind those slashes. But if it had form, he could burn it. That was the power of Hellfire.
"Oh my. It's been ages since I last felt heat like this."
Green flames surged like waves. The three-pronged slashes crumbled to nothing before the inferno of Hellfire, without even leaving a shape behind.
Damian manipulated the Hellfire directly, creating a whirlwind centered on the Old Man of the Mountain.
The green blaze restricted the opponent's movements. Damian didn't stop there—he drew his sword from his Subspace Pouch.
He then coated the blade with Stone Scales, enhancing its length and power. In its current form, it was closer to a blunt weapon than a sword.
Now fully enveloped in Hellfire, the earlier slashes would be useless. Only Damian's attacks were effective in this situation. To end it here, Damian swung his sword with all his might.
Suiiiik!! But both the Hellfire whirlwind and the Stone Scales-enhanced sword collapsed under a powerful gust of wind pressure.
"Keuk!!"
Damian's body was hurled back, slamming into the wall. Amid the searing pain and crushing pressure weighing on him, the dull impact felt even more intense.
The Old Man of the Mountain had swung his massive scythe in a full circle, generating the wind pressure.
It was a force unimaginable from arms as thin as dry twigs. He had poured all the mana he'd invested in slashes earlier into raw physical strength.
At least Damian's body had no external injuries, and Derek's sword hadn't broken. That was the silver lining.
'Damn it.'
His fingertips trembled faintly. This foe was on a whole other level from anyone he'd faced since his regression.
His enemies so far had been far weaker than him, or manageable with knowledge from his past life.
But none of that worked against this old man.
"Kekeke. Confusion is written all over your face."
The Old Man of the Mountain hadn't lost his composure from their initial encounter. He leaned on his scythe like a staff for a moment.
As his opponent relaxed his battle stance, Damian extinguished the flames on his right arm.
"Let me explain a bit more for your sake. I am the Old Man of the Mountain—or more precisely, the 'First' Old Man of the Mountain."
"What?"
That meant he was the founder of the Hashashin. But that didn't make sense.
The Hashashin first appeared in Imperial history over a thousand years ago. Even conservatively, no human could live that long.
"Ahaha. Sorry. I've only added to your confusion. Shall we talk about something else then? Say... the incident in Maidran?"
The event where the people living in Maidran until just days ago vanished. The aftermath hadn't spared only the residents—it had struck the Hashashin hiding beneath the fortress as well.
"This place isn't the only hideout, you see. Everyone living in Maidran is Hashashin."
The Hashashin living as a village. Normally, Damian would have scoffed, but he had no such leisure now.
They didn't differ much from ordinary folk when not using hashish, but he hadn't expected them to conceal themselves like this.
That only made it more baffling. How—and why—had so many Hashashin vanished?
"It's a kind of sacrifice. They all willingly accepted it."
"For what?"
Suddenly, the old man placed a hand over his chest and bowed his head. The gesture was less assassin and more sage-like.
"A sacrifice for a great purpose. That's why I was called back."
Ancient magic. Hundreds of Hashashin sacrificed to revive a thousand-year-old monster.
"The current Hashashin face a dire crisis. Cursed traitors—the Perm tribe—are to blame."
The old man's milky eyes turned toward the back. The Perm tribe was Paruzan's original affiliation.
He called it betrayal, but Damian had no idea what power dynamics existed between them.
"They abandoned their duties and defiled the knowledge of sorcery. A sin repayable only by death."
Even with spare hashish stockpiled, failure to produce more would eventually deplete it. The group's survival hung in the balance.
"What does that have to do with needing Paruzan?"
"The curse remaining in that girl's heart. We can restore the sorcery with it."
Damian now understood the Old Man of the Mountain's aim for Paruzan. But the oddity persisted.
Why move now? The Hashashin had countless opportunities to target her before.
"Because He commanded me to act now."
"‘He’? ‘Great purpose’? What bullshit philosophy is this from a bunch of thugs killing for coin?"
"Ahaha. We're not as simplistic as you shallow thinkers assume."
The Old Man of the Mountain was still smiling. But this time, the anger hidden within was palpable.
"We move solely by His will. Our missions are the same. Not by the client's intent, but by His call. This incident, and what you faced in the Teya Mountains too."
It sounded like Hashashin superstition, yet they hadn't summoned the First Old Man of the Mountain during the clan extermination. Why believe in such an arbitrary god?
"Once you restore the sorcery, what happens to Paruzan?"
"Hmm. Wouldn't it be fair for the sin of betrayal to extend to her as well?"
Once she was no longer useful, kill her. Of course, Damian had never intended to compromise with him over such matters anyway.
"Well, have you had enough time?"
The Old Man of the Mountain gripped his scythe anew as he spoke. He was clearly underestimating Damian. That's why he'd wasted time like this.
"Black magician."
For a moment, Damian thought he'd misheard. It was the secret he'd been discovered keeping only at death's door in his past life, and since regressing, not a shred of suspicion had fallen on him.
"You..."
"Didn't I say? I am the First Old Man of the Mountain."
During the era he was active, black magicians still lingered in the Empire. Even revived by ancient magic, those memories remained intact.
"Hellfire and Stone Scales. Nostalgic sensations. Though none of the ones I faced had your skill."
He couldn't afford to panic at the opponent's words. Damian steeled himself, reminding himself his task remained the same.
No—now he had even more reason to kill this man for certain.
Kwaaaa! As Damian stomped the ground, a Stone Scales boulder erupted. While conversing with the Old Man of the Mountain, he'd invested maximum time and mana, even consuming a page from the Book of Hell—He—to empower it.
At the same time, his right arm ignited once more. Green flames enveloped the Stone Scales boulder, forming spears of fire.
The accompanying pain was immense. Searing agony, crushing pressure, and eye strain assaulted him all at once.
"Heh heh."
Even as the flaming spears hurtled toward him, the old man's expression didn't change.
"Time is not on your side."
The old man murmured as he raised his scythe overhead.
'Huh?'
The moment the scythe descended vertically, surrounding sounds vanished briefly. Immediately after, a dark crimson slash appeared before Damian's eyes.
"Kuaaaaaah!!"
Though weakened from shattering the combined Hellfire and Stone Scales assault, the Old Man of the Mountain's slash left a deep gash across Damian's chest.
Had he not reflexively formed Stone Scales armor to defend, he'd have lost his life.
While conversing with Damian, he too had been gathering power. It wasn't the complacency unique to the strong. He had hunted Damian with full focus.
"Haa... haa..."
Blood soaked the floor. His body grew steadily colder. Mana and stamina had long hit their limits.
"Enhancements via the Book of Hell. You've gained much from it here—why not use more? Well, adding a couple more wouldn't change anything. Cross a certain line, though, and your body won't hold."
The Old Man of the Mountain's words sounded distant. Proof that his thoughts were slowing.
"Will you withdraw now?"
The Old Man of the Mountain pressed his blade to Damian's throat and asked.
"Bullshit. You never intended to let me go alive from the start."
"You're quick on the uptake there. If you'd been quicker, you wouldn't have come here at all."
A chilling aura tightened around Damian. One push from the old man, and his head would roll.
"Farewell, black magician. Even a fool like you, the great purpose bends to gra—"
The Old Man of the Mountain cut off mid-sentence and leaped back. For the first time, bewilderment crossed his face.
"What is that?"
Four ancient tomes orbited Damian.
All were pages from the Book of Hell—Mem. Two were stored in his heart; the rest drawn from his Subspace Pouch.
"□□□. □□. □□□□. □□. □□□□□□. □□. □...."
The tongue of demons spilled from Damian's lips. Hearing it, the Old Man of the Mountain went beyond tension into clear fury.
"You bastard... so that's it. This is unexpected."
Flames from the Book of Hell enveloped the wide space, tracing two circles.
Instantly, the surrounding air grew heavy—Damian and the Old Man of the Mountain both felt it.
Dung-dung. Low drumbeats emanated from the darkness. As time passed, the volume swelled and the tempo quickened, until blood trickled from both men's ears.
"Lord Molech of Hell."
As Damian spoke, the surrounding flames extinguished. No—even the faintest light was dragged into the darkness.
"Your contractor calls upon you."
Soon, a single ember began to consume the space.