Chapter 92
Chapter 92
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 92
Chapter Title: The Archmage Adoris
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The leaders gradually caught on to Havel's intentions.
“Th-that doesn't make any sense!”
“Enough.”
Just as one of them was about to let out a frustrated outburst,
another clamped his mouth shut.
The moment he spoke, the room plunged into dead silence.
Havel, seeing this, realized the man was the true power here.
One empty sleeve dangling loosely.
Scales faded compared to the other Strike tribesmen, hinting at his age.
A Strike tribesman adorned with several badges across his chest.
“Pleased to meet you. I am Bondro, priest and supreme commander of the Strike tribe.”
Priest and supreme commander in one.
It seemed priests held a lofty position among the Strike tribe.
'Do all priests give off this vibe?'
From the moment Havel had entered, the man's expression hadn't changed once.
Whether it stemmed from years of experience or simple composure, he couldn't tell.
But he clearly excelled at his role as supreme commander.
Havel City must have been tearing its hair out partly because of this man.
“You didn't ask for the reason just now.”
Sensing the man was someone he could reason with, Havel gave a slight nod.
“Just as you asked, we do have our reasons for invading Havel City.”
So there was a reason after all.
“And if you resolve it for us, the Strike tribe will gladly welcome you as our benefactor.”
He had even accurately read Havel's intentions.
As the man said, Havel had planned to play the gracious benefactor through this affair.
'Sharp instincts.'
Havel gestured for him to explain the reason.
“It's simple.”
The moment he spoke, the leaders' faces drained of color.
Every one of them looked like they were screaming inside, Are you really going to say it?
But Bondro pressed on without hesitation.
“Kill the archmage Adoris, and it will be resolved.”
Even Havel couldn't help but look puzzled at that.
“Didn't that Adoris guy invent the magic you all use?”
Archmage Adoris.
The Strike tribe's hero and the creator of magic.
But he shook his head at Havel's question.
“No. He's a devil. In exchange for providing magic, he demands countless sacrifices for it.”
“Sacrifices?”
“Adoris has an ultimate dream he pursues. For that, we've been offering up not just sacrifices, but even the Crows and Tendarr as the same.”
“That's why we rushed this invasion too—he was pressing us.”
Bondro's face darkened.
“He wanted children. We figured sacrificing Crows was better than our own.”
Judging by his frankness, things must be truly desperate.
“A-Adoris, sir?”
The coward, Podelia, stared in disbelief.
It seemed not the entire Strike tribe knew this.
Of course—if word got out that their hero was such a figure, it would cause an uproar.
Above all, those who revered the Strike tribe's essence, magic itself, would turn away.
Bondro wanted Adoris gone, not magic itself.
Havel stroked his chin.
“So you have no intention of halting the invasion until I go and deal with him.”
He had sized up the situation perfectly and struck with a pointed remark.
Bondro fell silent.
Because Havel had hit the nail on the head.
Watching him, Havel turned on his heel.
“Fine.”p>
Words permitting the invasion slipped from Havel's lips.
As Bondro's face twisted in shock, Havel halted at the door.
“You need that much insurance to listen to me properly, right?”
Havel had no intention of blindly defending Havel City.
His only goal was climbing the Tower.
He'd never planned to side wholly with one faction.
“You'll pay the price for the invasion eventually anyway.”
Havel's leg shot out toward the door.
The warriors straining to break it down tumbled out with it.
Havel strode past them and out into the open.
A few Strike tribe warriors moved to block his path.
It was only natural, coming from the command building.
“All of you, stand aside.”
Before Havel could even stop them, Bondro, who had followed, barked the order.
“He is a guest of the Strike tribe.”
Guest treatment, huh.
Bondro must genuinely hope Havel would take care of Adoris.
Hence the proper hospitality.
Thanks to that, Havel left the Strike village without any hassle.
“Lord Havel!”
As he entered the swamp, Elashiya and the others appeared.
They looked eager to know how it went.
“Everyone except Elashiya, return to the city now and hold off the invasion.”
At Havel's command, they nodded without complaint.
“Elashiya, you're coming with me to find this Adoris.”
To track Adoris, he needed Elashiya's tracing magic.
With that request made, Havel jerked his head.
“Don't move.”
The assault on floor 74 had begun.
Archmage Adoris.
The hero born to the Strike tribe and the founder of magic.
He had been born a frail child.
In Strike society, where strength was law,
the weak-bodied Adoris from birth was constantly scorned.
“Weakling Adoris!”
That was the nickname he heard most often.
But even the weakling Adoris had a natural gift.
Curiosity and an insatiable drive for exploration.
Using those, he arrived at one truth.
Magic.
An art perfect for sating his curiosity and thirst for knowledge.
At first, even this magic was dismissed.
But the moment Adoris felled the village's strongest warrior,
everything changed in an instant.
In Strike society, where strength ruled,
the magic Adoris created quickly became revered.
Yet Adoris felt a growing thirst for curiosity and exploration.
He churned out new spells day after day.
But eventually, he realized creating new magic was just modifying the old.
“Not enough. It's not enough.”
In the year he turned 96, far past the Strike tribe's average lifespan of 50,
Adoris turned to a new magic.
Dark magic fueled by the lives of the living.
The instant he touched it, his eyes flew wide.
This was utterly different from the old framework—a true new magic.
And with it, he overcame the creeping limit of his lifespan.
Thus, he gained an immortal body to research magic forever.
“This is it. This is the one!”
From that day, he plunged into dark magic.
And soon, he realized one crucial fact.
The life force fueling his dark magic...
Was none other than Calamity.
With Calamity, the possibilities were endless.
Before long, he lost interest in the Strike tribe.
Instead, he coveted the Calamity in all living beings.
He blackmailed the Strike tribe's priest, installed him as leader, and demanded sacrifices.
The same went for other beings' Calamity.
Once extracted, the husks held no value.
So he handed the corpses to the Strike tribe.
In exchange, he fueled his research with their Calamity repeatedly.
That was the Archmage Adoris.
Today, too, Adoris was immersed in magical research.
Before him lay the corpse of a Strike tribe infant.
Its skull dissected, organs exposed.
Adoris probed the corpse for Calamity, over and over.
Even amid such gruesome acts, his face remained unchanged.
The result of going mad for magic, proclaiming it the only truth.
He had discarded the emotions befitting any intelligent being.
“As expected.”
Adoris halted the probe in the corpse.
“This world is a confined space trapped in some framework.”
After harvesting Calamity, he had awakened to one truth.
This Calamity-filled world was like a balloon.
One arbitrarily filled with Calamity by someone.
This was especially pronounced in newborn beings.
Their bodies contained Calamity forcibly injected by another.
Stimulating it provoked a reaction from a massive Calamity mass beyond the world.
But the response was too faint.
And it dispersed quickly.
Adoris's curiosity and exploratory drive boiled anew.
'An entity somewhere beyond the world.'
He wanted to see it with his own eyes.
'I need more test subjects.'
A strong stimulus would surely pierce the world's wall.
No matter the outcome.
He would behold that entity firsthand.
Driven mad by curiosity and exploration, he incinerated the corpse.
A fresh batch of test subjects would arrive soon.
With them, he could reach the truth.
That was his thought—
Flash!
His head snapped toward the window.
His hideout was cloaked by magic that erased his presence.
Yet someone was heading straight here.
'What is this?'
His eyes narrowed faintly.
Something obscured by the world itself was moving.
Adoris, who saw the world through Calamity, could sense it.
It felt akin to the entity beyond.
“Wh-what, what is this! Graaak!”
Letting out a bizarre cry, he bolted from the house like a madman.
His gaze lifted to the sky.
Above the sunset sky, someone was racing in.
Adoris, who had artificially suppressed his emotions, now grinned ear to ear.
Tears welled in his eyes, as if beholding a new truth.
His endless thirst for exploration numbed his mind to the point of fainting.
Thud!
In that instant, a man and the woman on his back landed before him.
His near-silver hair gleamed as he set the woman down.
Then, slowly, he raised his head to meet Adoris's eyes.
“You're Adoris, right.”
“Y-yes... Who might this esteemed guest be.”
Swallowing hard against his ragged breath, Adoris asked.
But Havel's expression remained unchanged despite the man's odd demeanor.
“Havel of the Banpellyon family.”
The name Havel triggered something in his mind.
The Crows' night lion, Tendarr.
That was surely Havel.
And the black sword in his hand, with its flowing Milky Way sheen.
That too was called the Star Sword.
“I see. So that's how it is.”
Adoris let out an exclamation, as if grasping some revelation.
“The world, seeing me approach the truth, sent its lion in alarm. Isn't that right?”
According to Crow records, one Crow had been swayed by the night god's power.
He wielded it recklessly and was slain by the night lion.
Adoris classified that power as Calamity.
The Crows had been sentient longer than the Strike tribe.
So this time, the night lion had come for him.
“What nonsense is this?”
But Havel looked at him like he'd heard utter gibberish.
“Playing innocent, are you.”
Then, Calamity began to seep from Adoris's body.
“Guh!”
Elashiya stifled a scream reflexively.
True to his title of archmage, Adoris's Calamity was on another level.
Havel pulled Elashiya back and raised the Star Sword.
“I don't know what misunderstanding you've got,”
Slowly, dawn light gathered on Havel's blade.
“but you're still getting beaten to a pulp all the same.”
Time to knock some sense into this raving lunatic.