Chapter 90
Chapter 90
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 90
Chapter Title: The Hand of Ishtar
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There was a boy.
He was given the name Ramsey, but he never really thought of it as his own.
He hadn’t cared much about names to begin with.
Before being called Ramsey, he had been called something else, but now he couldn’t even remember it.
His mom... or perhaps the woman who had merely lent him her womb for ten months.
She was pointed at and called a lowly slut who got pregnant with just any man’s seed without even marrying, and he was branded an illegitimate child, unworthy of blessing alongside her.
Anyway, that woman had died, though he couldn’t recall how.
Had she died of some illness, or been beaten to death by a man?
The old woman who was that woman’s mother had dragged him to some mansion.
Your father is the master of this house, the old woman had said.
An absurd claim. Ramsey had been too young, and he hadn’t believed a word of it.
But lo and behold, from that day on, he lived in a noble household. He didn’t get a family name, but he was given the name Ramsey.
He gained a towering father he had to look up at and a sister who was annoyingly cheerful.
As he’d heard from street gossip, mimicking noble speech got him by without issue.
An illegitimate child is an impure being. And yet Ramsey lived a blessed life.
Ah, or so those around him said. With plenty of envious glares.
That’s how he spent a few years, but it still felt awkward. It was like gazing at the figure called “Ramsey” through a windowpane.
It felt a bit stifling.
A bit irritating.
And then.
-You are a chosen one.
He met his “Master.”
-Come with me.
The Master baptized him, and from that day, his life became his own.
-Ram...sey? Why are you...
First, he killed Ramsey’s father, Luth Schubert.
It was what the Master wanted, and Ramsey wanted to test his own power.
Of course, there were complications along the way.
Ramsey was supposed to be treated as dead, but Agnes, whom he called his sister, had caught on.
The Master told him not to worry about it.
Ramsey decided to do the same. After all, Agnes was a pretty good person.
Truth be told, he’d wanted to take her along. But the Master hadn’t allowed it. Still, he’d bring her someday.
She was his sister, after all. And he was her brother.
‘Why am I thinking about this now?’
Who had said it? Or had he read it in a book? People look back on their lives before they die. Was this the fabled life flashing before his eyes?
But why was he experiencing it? Ah, right—he’d come to the magic tower looking for his sister. No, that wasn’t it. The Master had told him to clean up the tower. And to pass a message to Damian Renekht. Ah... and after that...
“Huh?”
His gaze suddenly dropped. He saw his body split in half.
More precisely, a body that had been split in half and then regenerated.
It was the body completed by the Master’s baptism, and today, fighting Damian, he had awakened some new power.
But something was off. The most important thing that should have been inside him, the thing given by the Master...
‘Gone?’
No way. It was more precious than his own life. No matter what else he devoured, he had hidden that deepest within.
“A. A. A. Aaaah!!!”
He had been slashed.
By the massive scythe Damian wielded.
It looked a bit different now for some reason, but anyway, that was what had cut him.
Along with the gift from the Master.
“Ki, kill... me...”
“Shut up.”
Crack! Stone Scales pierced through Ramsey’s limbs.
Slammed against the wall, Ramsey thrashed and screamed, but he couldn’t break free of the restraints.
‘Now it’s safe.’
He had slashed Ramsey with the Grim Reaper. Beyond mere flesh, it had severed the power within him.
Demonic power. As Damian had suspected, the Grim Reaper was an artifact meant to counter demons.
Summoning demons required vast amounts of the Book of Hell, but if conditions were met, it could turn the tide of battle.
Factions hostile to black mages would have devised countermeasures, and the Grim Reaper was the result.
‘Dillon’s fine too.’
As Ramsey’s body destabilized, Dillon—who hadn’t been fully absorbed—separated cleanly.
Breathing slowly through his gas mask, he seemed to have no major issues.
The powers of those Ramsey had devoured, including Luth, were no longer detectable. They had finally found peace.
‘More subdued than expected.’
It was a power directly opposing demonic might, yet the lords of hell hadn’t reacted strongly.
Unlike the cheers when he’d merged with the sword, it was more a sense of quiet satisfaction.
Those who wielded demonic power were pleased by it, and so too were those who opposed it—such efforts held their own intrigue.
‘Or perhaps they’re satisfied with destroying a demonic power even they didn’t know about?’
Either way, he had gained new strength. Though the conditions were harsher than sword fusion.
‘...So that’s what it meant.’
There was a strange foreign substance in Damian’s mana.
Unnoticeable unless focused on, it was clearly a power not his own.
The price the mountain sage had mentioned, no doubt.
If it crossed a certain threshold, a snake-like ancient monster would claim Damian’s body.
Of course, he had no intention of letting that happen. He would make the Grim Reaper fully his own.
‘Someday, I’ll have to face Ishtar.’
Even defeating Michael and Rubia didn’t feel like the end.
With regression underway, the final enemy would be Ishtar.
The Grim Reaper resided not in a subspace pouch but in Damian’s soul—much like black magic.
“You bastard! You bastard! You bastard!”
Ramsey’s body no longer regenerated. The more he struggled, the more his other limbs began to crumble.
Yet he didn’t die. Good—that meant he could extract information on the seeker via Absorption.
‘Should I wake Agnes?’
The wraiths and death knights were already dealt with. Even if Agnes regained her senses, it wouldn’t be an issue.
Ramsey’s body wasn’t ordinary, but after extracting memories via Absorption, he’d become a vegetable.
In a way, it meant Agnes’s revenge couldn’t be fully satisfied.
‘No. She wouldn’t appreciate such consideration.’
Damian had started this, so he would finish it. Whatever Agnes’s reaction afterward, he would bear it fully.
“It’s not over yet!”
Ramsey barely freed himself from the Stone Scales and shouted. Empty words—his tattered body could no longer function.
Still, he made his final desperate struggle.
Swinging that chipped greatsword. Hoping at least to inflict some wound on Damian.
“You...”
A dumbfounded sound escaped Damian’s lips. He hadn’t even needed to counter.
“Me?”
Agnes’s sword had severed Ramsey’s wrist.
* * *
She had to follow Damian. She couldn’t leave Ramsey’s matter to anyone else.
Agnes knew better than anyone that it was the right thing to do.
Yet a corner of her heart still harbored fear.
Damian had gone to the trouble of pulling her along, but seeing Ramsey might make her crumble again—
Disappointment in herself, guilt toward Damian, and her feelings for Ramsey.
But all those worries became moot. The moment they entered the sewers, Damian knocked her out.
Stepping back, it was a reasonable choice. She couldn’t guarantee her own actions upon facing Ramsey again.
So playing bait was enough. That’s what her head told her.
But.
A little.
She was angry.
She wished he’d trusted her more.
What would the situation be when she woke? It was Damian’s plan, so Ramsey wouldn’t emerge unscathed.
Her revenge would thus conclude.
Then what? Should she just devote herself fully to the sword? Was that enough?
She didn’t know. She couldn’t find an easy answer.
When she opened her eyes again.
“It’s not over yet!”
She saw Ramsey charging with a roar. And Damian standing before him.
Slash. Her body moved before her head. Like flowing water, Agnes drew her sword and severed Ramsey’s wrist.
There was no hesitation. And to prevent further thrashing, she cleanly amputated his limbs.
Had it been this easy? All her prior anguish vanished like nothing.
“......”
Ramsey couldn’t close his gaping mouth. Agnes couldn’t possibly cut him in earnest.
He was chosen, a great being. Hadn’t the Master said so?
-But can I bring Sis back on my own? She’ll surely resist.
-Don’t worry. Your sister could never strike you down. That’s how the future I saw unfolds.
Had the Master been wrong?
No, impossible. In the world Ramsey knew, the Master was always right.
“...You okay?”
Damian was flustered too. He’d believed Agnes wouldn’t break here, couldn’t break—but he hadn’t expected her to overcome it so easily.
“Yes. For now...”
Agnes herself was stunned. She hadn’t done it consciously.
‘Why?’
She had no choice but to ask herself.
Why couldn’t she cut Ramsey before?
The memories with her brother were among her few happy ones. She couldn’t bear to excise them.
But this time, she had. Those times with Ramsey faded into hazy recollection.
Just days ago, it had been unthinkable. The difference between then and now?
‘Sir Damian...’
The thought that he was in danger made her body react instantly.
In truth, it wasn’t a crisis.
Ramsey was in his death throes, and even without her, Damian could have handled it.
Yet Agnes had stepped in herself.
The reason was.
“Ah.”
Agnes smiled. Of course, with the gas mask, only she knew.
“The days spent with you, Sir Damian, are more precious.”
It hadn’t even been a year since they’d formed a proper bond.
But now, that time was the happiest in her life, and she wanted it to continue.
She had no choice but to admit it.
She loved him. As one person to another, and as a woman.
‘But not yet.’
She decided not to confess. She was still following in his footsteps.
When the day came that she stood beside him, then she would share this feeling.
“What do you mean?”
“Just something I said.”
Damian had to look away. Today, there was something oddly captivating in Agnes’s eyes.
“...Let’s wrap this up first.”
Even if Agnes was back on her feet, extracting Ramsey’s memories remained necessary. He’d leave the disposal to her afterward.
“......”
Eyes dull, as if he’d abandoned everything. Like his soul had fled.
“Ramsey...”
No familial affection remained for him. Agnes had severed it herself.
But the bittersweet feeling was unavoidable.
She wanted to ask why he’d made that choice, but it was pointless now. He was utterly broken.
As Damian placed a hand on his head to cast black magic—Absorption.
Crack. Space split, revealing a crimson-black world. A massive hand emerged from within.
It gently enveloped Ramsey, then retreated back into the crimson-black void.
Once the hand and Ramsey vanished completely, the rift sealed itself.
Neither Agnes nor Damian could move in that instant. Not from mere shock—time itself seemed frozen.
“Da, Da, Dami, an. Uh. A, ah. Th, that...”
Agnes trembled, lips quivering as if she’d lost speech.
The terror humans had long forgotten—raw memory and emotion—had just seared into her mind.
That hand was demonic power. No, a demon itself.
And its owner.
‘Ishtar.’
The Queen of Hell.