Chapter 665: Living
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 665: Living
"Ancient magic..."
Muen’s gaze narrowed slightly.
As had been mentioned before, though he had never witnessed it with his own eyes, Muen could still catch glimpses of the brilliance of magic from a millennium ago through the traces of history and the cryptic fragments shared by Teacher Mela, who had lived through it.
Therefore, any magic that managed to survive from that era after the near-total collapse of civilization was bound to be terrifying.
Ariel was a prime example. She used a form of ancient magic that bolstered her physical body, allowing her to cut through enemies of a higher rank as easily as one might chop vegetables—and that certainly wasn't even the full version of the spell.
As for Ancient Artifacts... those were even harder to describe.
Muen hadn't encountered many Ancient Artifacts yet. After all, as magical tools passed down from that era, they were naturally exceedingly rare.
But based on the ones Muen had encountered so far... they weren't exactly "strong."
Indeed, "not very strong" was a perfectly fair assessment. None of the Ancient Artifacts Muen had come across to date seemed to possess particularly terrifying destructive power or deterrent force; in terms of raw output, they were arguably inferior to a single alchemy bomb.
However, from another perspective, these magical tools graced with the title of "Ancient Artifact" were, without exception, possessed of incredibly bizarre powers.
Take, for instance, the "Single's Resentment" in Celicia’s possession.
As long as one stood under the umbrella and held the handle, their very presence would be erased.
It wasn't just hiding one's aura, nor was it making one disappear visually.
It was simply... the erasure of one's presence.
You were still there, yet no one would notice you. Even magic itself was affected; highly sophisticated alert spells would simply ignore your existence.
This effect was fundamentally different from any existing magical system. Rather than a specific spell inscribed within the tool, it felt more like... a direct interference with certain rules within a specific range.
He had once questioned Teacher Mela about this, only to receive a nonchalant, nonsensical reply:
"That is... the end of magic."
...
The end of magic? I’m just a brute who only knows the Illumination Spell, and you’re talking to me about the end of magic?
If anyone else tried to pull that cryptic crap on me, I’d punch them right in the face, I swear on the Campbell name...
"Ha, damned old loli. She always loves playing the riddler at the most critical moments."
Muen rubbed his temples and let out a long, troubled sigh.
Just another day of wanting to give that old loli a good spanking.jpg
"But regardless, ancient magic and Ancient Artifacts are extremely dangerous things."
After all, compared to simple raw power, these inscrutable things were what one truly needed to be wary of.
But now was not the time to dwell on that.
The current problem was...
"Is there someone within the Empire colluding with the demons?"
Muen stroked the magic materials, whispering under his breath.
The former Inner Council had been in league with the demons; this had been confirmed by much of the insider information unearthed later.
After all, that Demon Blood Princess hadn't come to Belland just for a vacation.
But the problem lay in the timing.
The collapse of the Inner Council, the Great Purge of the high-ranking Imperial nobility... all of that had concluded over a month ago.
The Inner Council had long since become dust buried in history, failing to stir even a single ripple in the long river of time.
Yet these magic materials had clearly been transported into the Abyss only recently.
For items this valuable, even if they were disguised as grain to avoid suspicion, the demons would surely have sent powerful figures to take personal charge of them as quickly as possible.
The window of time in between wouldn't be very long. Vik and the others had just happened to stumble into this brief window, and even then, they had predictably run into a High-Class Demon and suffered a crushing defeat.
"The one coming to take charge soon should be that 'Demon General' Solin mentioned, right?"
Muen looked toward the Indra King and asked, "Well? Interested?"
"Demon Generals are usually around the Fifth-Tier Realm, though their strength varies wildly. Still, there's no need for me to step in," the Indra King replied, shaking his head. "Besides, if I were to act in a place like this, it would be troublesome if it attracted a Demon Grand Duke. The battle to ambush Duke Campbell wasn't that long ago, so there are at least five Demon Grand Dukes stationed in this region right now. Even I must proceed with caution."
"...True. I was being a bit too optimistic. There will be plenty of opportunities later; no need to lose the big picture for a small gain."
Muen tapped his fingers against the magic materials, listening quietly to the crisp, melodious sound they produced after being meticulously refined.
In his eyes, blue as an icy lake, a deep darkness now churned.
"Still, it looks like this trip to the Abyss is going to be even more interesting than I imagined."
*
His abdomen still throbbed with a dull ache, and the tearing sensation from his wounds continued to prick at his nerves.
But... I’m actually alive?
Abel’s consciousness quickly surged from the darkness. His eyelids twitched slightly, but he immediately forced himself to suppress the instinctive movement.
He kept his eyes closed, remaining motionless. Even his breathing was controlled to match the rhythm of someone unconscious.
At the same time, he strained every sense he could currently muster to carefully perceive himself and his surroundings.
His hands were warm.
His body didn't feel cold.
From the dull sensations reaching his skin, there seemed to be a campfire burning not far away.
Does that mean... I’m currently a prisoner?
But his body felt light; there were no shackles. Did they think he was already dead?
Moreover, the scent of roasting meat wafted through the air. It seemed the enemy was leisurely grilling meat right now. How careless.
Perhaps if he had woken up any later, he would have become the meat being roasted in the enemy's hands.
Abel struggled to maintain his outward calm, but his muscles were gradually tensing. His hand snuck behind his waist, and he discovered that a dagger he had hidden there hadn't been taken away.
Heh, damned demons. How arrogant.
In that case, you shall pay the price for your arrogance.
Abel knew that escaping in this situation was impossible, but if he could take one down with him before he died, it would be a bargain!
Therefore...
"Demon scum, die!"
Having finished gathering his strength, Abel suddenly lunged from the ground. He squandered his current, inexplicably abundant strength, pouncing like a predatory leopard as he thrust the dagger toward the hideous face of the nearby...
"Eh?"
Abel’s expression suddenly froze.
Though he was still mid-lunge, he abruptly realized...
This demon scum... why doesn't he look very ugly?
And...
Why are Vik, Polly, Morse... even Guri, all sitting around this 'demon scum,' eating roasted meat with expressions of excitement and awe?
The group looked perfectly harmonious, not at all like people about to be propped up over a campfire and roasted alive.
"..."
In an instant, the atmosphere within the flickering campfire light of the makeshift tent fell silent.
Everyone turned their heads in unison, looking at Abel with expressions that were three parts confusion, three parts shock, and ninety-four parts "what the hell is this guy doing?"
"This... what... what’s going on?"
By now, Abel, whose knife was almost touching the person, finally realized that the "demon scum" he had shouted at... appeared to be an incredibly handsome young man.
And most importantly, this young man’s features... why did they look a bit like the Duke Campbell who was known to everyone in the Imperial military?
*
"I... I am terribly sorry!"
Abel’s rough, weathered face was so hot it felt like it was on fire. He bowed and scraped repeatedly, stammering his apologies to the young man before him.
"I... I didn't realize... I... I thought you were a demon... To have offended you so, I am truly, deeply sorry."
"It’s fine."
Muen confiscated the dagger from Abel’s hand and slid it back into the sheath at his waist, then smiled without a hint of offense.
"It’s impressive that you maintained that level of vigilance. That little brother Vik over there, on the other hand, went straight to snoring. He slept like a baby."
"Hehe." Vik scratched his head, smiling sheepishly.
"You... you flatter me." Abel immediately shot Vik a glare before continuing respectfully, "That level of vigilance is something anyone who’s been in the Abyss for a long time develops. Vik is just a recruit; he doesn't know a... he naturally doesn't know anything."
"There’s no need to be so formal. I don't hold any official rank right now, nor am I your superior. I’m just an ordinary Imperial soldier," Muen said, waving a hand.
"No... how could I..."
Only then did Abel dare to steal a glance upward, studying the handsome blond man before him—who, thanks to Duke Campbell’s constant brainwashing propaganda, was completely different from what he had imagined.
Every gesture of this blond man carried an inimitable noble grace, yet he was remarkably kind, showing not a hint of arrogance even when speaking to a bottom-tier soldier like Vik.
Because of this, Abel still found it hard to believe...
"Are you... are you truly the son of Lord Duke Campbell... the legendary Young Master Campbell?"
"Why?" Muen asked back with a smile. "In a place like this, would anyone dare to impersonate the son of the Lion King?"
"No... no one."
Abel’s back instantly snapped straight as he gave a standard military salute.
"Abel, Captain of the 49th Squad, Vanguard Battalion, Campbell Legion, Imperial Abyss Defense Line, reporting for duty!"
"I told you, I’m not your superior. There’s no need to be so formal."
Muen beckoned, signaling Abel to sit beside him.
Abel hesitated repeatedly, feeling that this was far too presumptuous... but glancing at Vik, who was already gorging himself nearby, worrying about being presumptuous seemed somewhat pointless now.
"Here, take this."
"Th-thank you."
As soon as Abel sat down, he fearfully accepted the roasted meat handed to him by the Duke’s son himself.
"Don't mind it; it’s just ordinary horse meat. Most of the horses were ruined by the demons, but not all of them. So, make do with this. My cooking skills are only average."
"No, no, no... being able to eat meat is already a rare luxury for me."
Abel squeezed out a smile. Perhaps because he hadn't smiled in so long, it looked a bit awkward. "Fighting in a hellhole like the Abyss, we’re lucky just to have anything to eat. How could we possibly be picky?"
"Is that so?"
Muen studied Abel’s old, scar-ridden face, his eyes flickering as he said softly, "Then take this chance to eat as much as you can."
"Th-thank you very much."
Abel returned to his respectful demeanor, expressing his gratitude.
Holding the fragrant roasted meat in one hand, he habitually reached for a tool to check for poison... then paused, letting out a bitter laugh.
This was horse meat roasted for him by the Duke’s own son, not the meat of some bizarre monster from the Abyss. How could it be poisoned?
Besides, even if it were poisoned, it would be a great honor for him.
Abel took a bite.
Instantly, the aroma of meat and fat—flavors he hadn't tasted in a long time—exploded in his mouth.
A person who has been parched for a long time shouldn't eat such greasy food, but he didn't feel the slightest discomfort. He must have been given water while he was unconscious. Thus, he could clearly feel the abundant energy contained within this ordinary roasted meat.
It was exactly what his weakened body needed most.
Drip.
Drip.
Inside the tent where the campfire flickered, droplets of water fell onto the sandy ground.
"I... I’m sorry, Young Master Campbell. I’ve lost my composure again."
"What is there to be ashamed of?" Muen asked, poking at the campfire.
"I..."
Abel chewed and swallowed, wiping his face hard.
"Before I chose to infiltrate this place, I thought I had long since stopped fearing death. I thought I was used to it. But now..."
Abel looked at his trembling hand, which could still feel the richness of the food, and couldn't stop his sobbing.
"Being alive... it’s so good."