Chapter 84
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 84
[One of his bloodlines is Frost. Be careful.]
[And the other?]
[I’m not sure, but it seems geared toward close-quarters combat. His mana capacity is top-tier—somewhere between the two of you.]
Before the fight began, Turan used wind magic to discreetly carry his voice to his companions. Solif, the only one among them unable to manipulate wind proficiently, had to settle for merely listening.
In the fleeting gap created by that brief exchange, Renod seized his chance. He swung his ice axe, and a crescent-shaped arc of chilling light shot from the blade. Its target was Turan, who stood at the center of the trio.
“Ugh!”
Turan immediately attempted to conjure a wall of earth to defend himself, but to his surprise, the arc of light sliced through the mana-infused rock with ease and surged toward him. In that instant, a green shield sprang from his body, blocking the attack before freezing solid.
It was an automated defense artifact he had plundered from a Baraha noble.
That was close.
Turan narrowed his eyes at the destructive force vibrating through the shield. The technique Renod had just used was far too powerful for his mana level, and its underlying principles were difficult to grasp.
Could it be related to the fusion of his two bloodlines?
“Hah!”
At that moment, Solif let out a shout and upended the earth, firing dozens of stone bullets forward. Meisa followed up by manifesting and launching several fire spears. Unable to continue his offensive, Renod was forced to parry the projectiles with his axe as he retreated.
“Wait, where is this strength coming from…?”
Unlike his confident demeanor from moments ago, a hint of flustered concern finally appeared on Renod's face. While Turan’s group had only used power equivalent to high-ranking nobles when harassing the Nagin mages earlier, they were now revealing their true capabilities. Of course, they weren't going all out, as they were intentionally refraining from using their own bloodline abilities.
While the other two maintained their relentless assault, Turan pulled out the Light-Swallowing Cloth and had it devour the sphere of light Renod had created. The brightly lit campsite was instantly plunged into darkness. Under the shroud of shadows, the three hid their presence, throwing hidden weapons or freezing the blood of nearby corpses to fire as projectiles.
Turan clicked his tongue as he threw a long, thin needle.
I’ll never get used to this.
The hidden weapons Turan’s group used belonged to Reto, a Zahar noble they had encountered in Arabion. Naturally, since they hadn't practiced with them, their efficiency was abysmal. If they hadn't intended to disguise themselves as Zahar assassins, they would never have used such things.
“Guh…!”
However, Renod couldn't deflect those clumsy throwing attacks as easily as before. Because of their stealth abilities, he couldn't tell where the projectiles were coming from. Every time he tried to create light again, Turan used his artifact to nullify it. To block the incoming attacks, he had to keep his hands busy responding to the other two.
“Aaaaaah!”
Unable to take it anymore, Renod let out a roar of fury, and a bone-chilling cold radiated from him. The air, which had been merely cool, turned so frigid that even one's breath seemed to freeze instantly. The fallen Nagin knights on the ground began to shiver violently.
“L-Lord Renod…”
“It’s… too cold…”
Having dropped the surrounding temperature with a single shout, Renod gestured, creating dozens of ice spikes and firing them in all directions in an attempt to flush out his invisible enemies. Naturally, when one side can see and the other cannot, the outcome of a projectile battle is obvious. Puncture wounds and slashes continued to appear on Renod’s body as he was slowly stained red with blood.
Something’s strange…
While continuing his attacks, Turan lightly wetted his finger with saliva and waved it through the air. The climate here was quite dry, yet Renod was condensing ice and using it as projectiles with startling ease. Even with the Shoal bloodline’s ability to manipulate water, one shouldn't be able to exercise power so effortlessly in this environment. Furthermore, despite his constant creation of ice, the surrounding air didn't feel like it was getting any drier.
It was as if he wasn't gathering moisture to freeze it, but rather creating the ice out of nothing.
The resistance lasted for about a minute, like a water buffalo being hunted by a pack of wolves. Finally, around the time the knights could no longer endure the cold and froze to death, the cornered Renod’s eyes turned blood-red.
“Ugh…”
With a low groan, the flow of mana circulating within his body began to grow violent. Sensing that he was up to something, Turan was about to drop his stealth and shout a warning when Renod slammed his foot down.
“You bastards—!”
Starting from his foot, a sheet of ice spread out instantly, covering a radius of over a hundred meters.
A spell to cover the ground in ice? What possible use could that have? To make it slippery?
Just as that question crossed Turan's mind, Renod’s body slid forward at incredible speed. It was a speed so great it looked as if a giant had picked him up and hurled him. His target was Solif, who had exposed his position just moments ago by throwing a hidden weapon.
“Die!”
Arriving at Solif’s location in an instant, Renod let out a half-crazed scream and slammed his axe into the ground. The result of that seemingly meaningless action was truly catastrophic.
Cr-crack!
Ice spikes erupted from the point of impact, covering dozens of meters in a fan shape. It was as if he were declaring that if they were going to hide with stealth, he would simply blow everything away.
“Holy hell!”
Horrified by the attack directed at him, Solif activated his Baraha artifact at maximum power. A white sphere enveloped his body, and the ice spikes crushed against it with a grating screech.
What kind of power is this…!
Solif’s eyes widened at the pressure transmitting through the sphere. The artifact he had brought possessed defensive capabilities that were among the best in Baraha, yet it was screaming as if it were about to shatter at any moment. Turan had said that Renod’s enhanced strength was only halfway between his and Meisa’s, but judging by this, it felt like he was fighting someone with twice as much mana.
Since the glowing sphere had forced him out of stealth, Renod spotted him and shouted with a look of ecstasy.
“There you are!”
With bloodshot eyes, foam at the corners of his mouth, and a slack-jawed grin, he didn't look like a sane human being. His other bloodline, represented by the symbol of crossed axes, was undoubtedly the Berserker bloodline—a power that granted immense physical ability at the cost of one's sanity.
Renod leaped dozens of meters and brought his axe down. With a thunderous boom, dozens of cracks appeared on the white sphere. His physical prowess was so overwhelming that if the sphere broke and they entered a melee, the fight would likely be over in five seconds.
“Damn it, help me!”
The moment the cornered Solif cried out in desperation, a stone flew from the side and struck Renod squarely in the head. Turan’s strike, thrown with all his might in his haste, knocked Renod unconscious for a few seconds.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m not dead, but… ugh, I think I got poked in a few places.”
As Solif grumbled and quickly moved into stealth to put distance between himself and the enemy, Meisa used telekinesis to uproot several large conifers and slammed them down onto the just-awakening Renod. The fully rampaging Berserker let out a roar of fury.
*
Ten minutes later, Turan’s group had bound the near-death Renod with chain artifacts.
In the process, there had been accidents—Solif’s thigh was pierced by a stray ice spike, and Meisa’s arm was broken by an axe blow—but they had captured him nonetheless. The mission was a success.
Using the last of their mana to create recovery potions and treat their wounds, the three of them tossed Renod into the middle of a coniferous forest a short distance from the campsite.
“Phew, I really thought I was going to die. If he’d been any stronger, I would’ve had to use my bloodline ability.”
“So, this guy’s identity… it’s that, right?”
“Probably.”
Though they didn't mention the god’s name, all three of them had guessed the identity of the being inside Renod.
The Frea Divine Clan, Fury of the Frost.
The one whom the nobles of the Frost bloodline, including the Carmine family, considered their ancestor was exactly the kind of being who would possess both the Frost and Berserker bloodlines.
Though I don’t know why he’s in the Nagin family instead of the Carmine family.
There were several possible reasons. Perhaps their reach hadn't extended to the Carmine family yet, or else…
Maybe there’s already another god ruling the Carmines.
Hadn't the being who occupied Renod’s body just mentioned the word ‘Pact’? Considering that the word usually referred to agreements or treaties between major powers, it immediately brought one thing to mind. The Frea Divine Clan members remaining in this land were not all on the same side.
Well, they might be called gods, but if they’re just powerful humans, I suppose it can’t be helped.
Considering that their descendants, the mages, were constantly in conflict, it was foolish to think the gods would be any different. While deep in thought, Solif looked at the sprawled-out Renod and murmured softly.
“Seriously, looking at him feels strange. The fact that we caught that. I’m not exactly happy… it’s more like, should I say, hollow? Not that it was easy to catch him, though.”
The reason he referred to it as ‘that’ instead of a god was the suspicion that those beings might have the ability to sense things through conversation alone. Of course, judging by the fact that they knew he had talked in the Library but didn't know Turan’s identity or the exact contents of the conversation, their accuracy didn't seem high, but it was better to avoid risk if possible.
Turan nodded in agreement with Solif.
“I think I know what you mean. I felt a bit like that too.”
He also felt a strange sense of disappointment that the ancestor of all mages, the creator who had defeated other races and saved humanity—the great Frea Divine Clan—had been captured by just the three of them. It was probably how one would feel upon discovering that an idol they had longed to meet was actually just a lucky drunkard.
At their words, Meisa, who was standing behind them, shook her head.
“Was it really that hollow? If he could fight the three of us like that even with a body like this, I can’t even imagine how strong he’d be in his prime. It’s enough to make me feel a sense of despair.”
“Ah, well…”
When Meisa’s father, Badal Arabion, was brought up, all three of them fell silent for a moment. The god dwelling within Renod had displayed enough power to hold his own against three top-tier nobles just by weaving two bloodline abilities into the body of a high-ranking noble. Then how powerful a monster would a god be if they inhabited the body of a Great House Head and fully wove together four bloodlines?
Theoretically, even if they all possessed the mana of a Great House Head, they might not dare to guarantee a victory. Since just imagining it was enough to sap his confidence, Turan shook his head and changed the subject.
“Anyway, we should take this chance to get as much information as possible. While we’re at it, we can find out about those suspicious spells he was using.”
“Oh, that light arc? That was really weird. I thought it was cold energy, but it had physical substance, and the place it hit froze over.”
“That, and his way of handling ice magic was a bit strange too. It’s on a different track from normal magic.”
When Turan explained the ice magic he had observed—which seemed to use no moisture at all—Meisa added her own observation.
“Oh, right. I saw it while we were cleaning up; the ice he made disappeared without leaving any water behind. As if it had been an illusion.”
“Then it’s not ice made of illusions… what is it? Is he summoning ice?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out now.”
At Turan’s words, Solif let out a groan. It wasn't hard to guess that his face behind the mask was twisted in a grimace.
“Is it time for that again?”
“If you don’t want to watch, you can go keep watch like before. My partner must be lonely being by himself.”
“Forget it. I need to get used to it eventually.”
While engaging in light banter with the disgusted Solif, Turan subtly focused his attention on Meisa. Though he couldn't see her expression because of the mask, he could feel that her heart was filled with turmoil.
[Are you going to be okay?]
[It doesn't matter. That body is just the child of that filthy woman. He’s nothing like a brother to me.]
When he sent his voice secretly through wind magic, Meisa gave that short reply and fell silent. At this, Turan immediately poured a small amount of recovery potion into Renod’s mouth and splashed a large glob of water over him.
“Uuugh…”
Renod, struggling to open his eyes, widened them when he saw the figures surrounding him. Three masked strangers in tattered cloaks, looking as if they had just come from a battle. Startled by their overtly suspicious appearance, he tried to draw upon his mana, but he felt no strength in his body.
“W-where is this? What is this? Who are you people?”
“He doesn't seem to remember?”
“Maybe he’s just pretending not to know?”
At Meisa’s question, Turan gave a light sniff and shook his head, dismissing the hypothesis. The scent of confusion was wafting from the slumped Renod. In other words, the god hadn't completely taken over Renod’s body but was clearly coming and going like a possession only when necessary. Though, judging by the fact that he didn't even know who Turan’s group was, it seemed the god was encroaching on his consciousness to some extent even during normal times.
“It seems he’s really hiding inside. Hey, you know there’s something inside you, don't you? Bring him out. Otherwise, I’ll torture you.”
“W-what? I have no idea what you’re talking ab—”
Renod shook his head in panic, but Turan didn't miss the emotion that flickered across his face for a split second. An expression that seemed to say, I’ve been caught.
Does Renod know what’s inside him too? Good, this is a chance to see how he coexists with his host.
Turan pulled off Renod’s shoes and brought a long needle to the tip of his toe. Renod’s face turned pale as he realized what was about to happen.
“I have no personal grudge against you, so I’ll say this one last time before the torture begins. Call out the guy inside you.”
Though he hadn't spent much time with the real Renod, Turan could guess that he wasn't a particularly resilient character. As expected, Renod didn't even need to be tortured; he began to scream in terror.
“Ah, ugh…! Ymir! Ymir! Save me! Please!”
Ymir—was that the name of the god called Fury of the Frost?
However, contrary to expectations, the god dwelling within Renod showed no reaction, as if ignoring the desperate plea. Even though his host’s life was now in grave danger.
I had a hunch, but… does the soul not perish even if the host dies?
The reason Turan had made sure to completely hide their identities during the battle and afterward was because he thought this might be the case. If they killed him and the soul simply flew back to its base, they would have exposed their information for nothing.
In any case, it seemed unlikely they would get any meaningful information by threatening and torturing Renod like this. Thus, Turan crouched down in front of him and recited the words he had prepared in a low, hushed voice.
“Ymir, I have come to deliver the will of Lord Otas.”
Otas.
It was the name of a Frea Divine Clan member mentioned in the diary Turan had encountered in the past. Turan believed that identity was, in all likelihood, the ancestor of the Zahars—the Night Hunter. In other words, he was now impersonating a messenger commanded by the god of the Zahars.
If I mention the name so openly, he’ll at least show himself.
This would surely make it even harder for them to suspect that the culprit was Turan, a wandering noble passing by. There was no way a small fry like that would know the Night Hunter’s true name.
As expected, the expression of the terrified Renod changed instantly, as if someone else had stepped in. What was surprising was that the emotion wasn't anger or fear, but rather something closer to shock.
Ymir, the Frea Divine Clan member occupying Renod’s body, shrieked in a high-pitched voice.
“Otas? That shut-in bastard is still alive? How? Where the hell has he been hiding for thousands of years?”