Book 7 Chapter 13

Chapter 162

Nariaduke, the Three Wheels from a remote era untouched by human breath…

Amidst the pouring rain, it was merely gazing profoundly in this direction.

That was all, yet the tension, heavy enough to crush one's bones, was utterly bizarre.

Valencidis gasped for breath.

‘Even I, with strong resistance to the abyss, am in such agony… I can't believe it.’

This woman named Milia was somehow in better condition than himself. Though she, too, was breathing heavily.

As expected, the one suffering the most was the natural enemy of the abyss, Akhi the Red Dragon. The whelp hid behind Milia's back.

Protecting himself and them from this pressure with a barrier, Valencidis looked forward again.

‘Does this mean Nariaduke has resurrected by possessing Lynn's body…?’

But how, exactly? That shouldn't have been the ritual.

It was then. Nariaduke, who had been moving in this direction as if to kill the whelp any moment, suddenly stopped.

Then, with a dissatisfied expression, it looked around.

"Such a trivial young one can be killed anytime… Albisis, but… Hmmm…"

And then, it reached out its hand in this direction.

Then, the fan hanging at Valencidis's waist, Kasyasur (Wings of Darkness), vibrated high and thin… and shot like an arrow into the true master's grasp, unfolding.

Kasyasur was, in fact, Nariaduke's holy artifact.

"Bol a shir, first there must be a feast befitting this Nariaduke's second coming…!"

As Nariaduke swung Kasyasur, the eerie, blade-like wind it unleashed tore the space-time before it into three.

Valencidis watched in inexplicable dread.

Beyond the torn dimensions, a dense night was visible, and Dark Witches and Witches, Dark Mages and Mages, Ronin, and Soldiers were engaged in fierce battles on their respective peaks.

Every sight, no, every person visible… was sucked into an intangible vortex and 'came' the moment Nariaduke snapped the fan shut.

‘Impossible.’

Milia felt the hairs all over her body stand on end and frantically shook her head.

‘How is such a thing possible?’

Yes, they had ‘come’.

There was no other way to explain this strange phenomenon.

All of them, who had clearly been fighting hundreds of *ri* away… were forcibly teleported and summoned to this Myth Peak.

There were only two exceptions; Yuliana, the priestess of the star cluster, and Milonne Alter Gaumris, were nowhere to be seen.

"What is this place…?"

"No…?"

"Hmm…?"

Those who were bewilderedly looking around soon lost their minds in terror at the sight of the primordial being looking down on them from that high ground.

An absolute madness that defies explanation… a demonic form implying a cruel nature.

In the dark rain, a third eye eerily twitched.

Some faint-hearted witches, with pale faces, poured out bizarre prophecies and warnings, and mages shivered in intense cold, beginning to mumble unprecedented languages.

"Dubus, I will give you a choice…"

'Lynn,' with her pure white skin and delicate, androgenous appearance, yet exuding a sinister and profane aura unlike her living self, spoke.

"Will you kneel before this Nariaduke… Geshas… transcend the vortex of causality, and live on, gaining eternal life…"

Blood burst from eardrums. The atmosphere trembled, and the moonlight beyond the dark clouds quivered piteously.

At that voice, some frantically knelt and prostrated themselves, though they themselves did not know why.

Was it the fear of an ancient ruler, etched deep into their genes, that instinctively made them kneel?

"Or will you perish here and now, as the dust of an era… Olfirnu, choose…"

Unlike the lower-ranking individuals who had fallen into complete panic, what delivered a powerful shock to the Seven Calamities, the Great Witch, and the elders of Rivendell was a more rational reason.

"L-Lord Lynn…?"

Indeed. The appearance of this being, who called itself an ancient entity before their eyes, was… Lynn, the hero of the age of turmoil, the 11th Great Archmage.

"I, Nariaduke, am greater than the master of this body you revered… Bekerdus, for I am the one who has received the authority to govern the 'present' by the side of the Ruler of Time…"

As battle-hardened mages trembled all over, muttering "Impossible" in suppressed voices, chaos spread widely.

"Don't waver! Are you still mages who bear the name of Rivendell, even like this!"

It was then that an old mage stepped forward, as if to end the confusion.

He was Dadan Carain, dean of Rivendell, one of the Eight Great Schools, mounted on top of one of Rivendell's Four Sacred Beasts, the gigantic Flaming Toad.

As the Flaming Toad extended its tongue, flames erupted along its trajectory, and Dadan, having captivated the crowd's attention with it, pointed at Nariaduke's wings.

"Look closely at that grotesque form! It claims to possess ultimate power? It's all for naught! How could something resurrected in the form of a parasite on a human body, due to a lack of power, possess ultimate power!"

"…"

"And above all, don't you know that such a form inherently severely limits the power that can be used, depending on the abilities of the host body it parasitizes?!"

That was not mere bluffing; it was something Valencidis also clearly understood.

No matter how mighty, how deeply imbued with infinite time's power, if the physical body cannot withstand that power, it is meaningless.

Just as Rain Ludwig, fused with the soul of a True Dragon, is unstable compared to an adult True Dragon.

But why was this ominous cold sweat flowing incessantly…?

"Lynn may have been great, but she was human, after all! There's no way she could take on all these people here! Absolutely not! What are you doing! Hurry and prepare the ritual for Heavenly Flame Strike!"

Heavenly Flame Strike was the ultimate 5-star fire magic created by Orbos Carain, one of the three Great Archmages and the progenitor of the Rivendell school.

Three Rivendell elders and three grand disciples quickly fanned out, forming a magical array for Heavenly Flame Strike, and each pulled out talismans enveloped in spheres of flame.

The sight of those 12 talismans connected by countless threads of flame was a wonder in itself.

If one could look down upon this scene from the sky, they would say it was the very magical array of Heavenly Flame Strike devised by Orbos.

‘This is Rivendell…’

Not only Valencidis, but also the witches under Yuliana and the witches under Tureyna, all swallowed dry and were mesmerized by the sight.

‘The battle-mage school that left tremendous achievements in every war that left a significant mark on history…’

The fact that legendary heroes like Lynn and Friede praised the might of the Rivendell school even in the Antarctic War 300 years ago guarantees its overwhelming skill.

It took less than three seconds for the 5-star magic array constructed by six Rivendell executives to erupt with fiercely blazing flames.

When several mages perform an ultimate 5-star spell that one could not even dare to attempt alone, in perfect synchronization, it is called ritual magic.

Heaven (天).

Craggy (嵯).

Blaze (炎).

Gurgle (淙).

Assault (激).

Dadan Carain, having confirmed the runes perfectly constructed in the magic array, shouted with a satisfied smile.

"Now, show them Rivendell's inferno!"

Heaven (天) and Craggy (嵯).

Heat, surging immensely as if to pierce and envelop the sky.

Blaze (炎).

Although merely a degraded version of the prime rune of Fire (火), it is reborn as an absolute inferno by that rune, far surpassing the power of ordinary runes.

And Gurgle (淙).

That flame, filling the sky and emitting a rough yet serene sound of water, in the next moment—

Assault (激).

Poured down as a torrent of intensely blazing flame, enough to incinerate the atmosphere.

"To that profane one who dared violate the divinity of the Red Mountains!"

There was no way to evade magic of such overwhelming scale; if it couldn't be blocked, only death awaited.

Those near Nariaduke, startled by the fierce heat that caused blisters on their skin, fled in terror.

Valencidis also had to move his feet quickly to get away from the flames.

"We have to get away!"

"I know!"

"Abu, Abu, Abut!"

Akhi, held in Milia's arms, desperately reached out and out towards the temple where Rain was buried alive, but…

‘Truly amazing, by the way…’

Valencidis was genuinely impressed.

Is this Orbos's Heavenly Flame Strike, said to be the greatest among fire-attribute mages?

It's literally a feast of flames (炎) falling like waves (激) from the sky (天), as the skill name suggests.

If this… if Nariaduke, an abyssal being, were hit directly by those powerful flames, even it…

"I shall exist only within infinite time."

But the moment Nariaduke unfolded its fan and said that…

‘No…’

Valencidis simply, at that moment, became so terrified that he could hear nothing but his own heartbeat. His steps halted blankly.

Madness, extreme frenzy.

Even if Nariaduke had unleashed an absolute destructive force to erase the Heavenly Flame Strike at once, it wouldn't have been this terrifying.

‘What in the world happened…?’

He could only confirm that an immense absurdity, an indescribable absurdity, had violated providence.

He couldn't accept it.

He couldn't understand it.

The wave of flames pouring down from the sky disappeared. It wasn't canceled out by another force; it simply vanished as if it had all been a dream.

‘Hallucination? No, it couldn't be a hallucination.’

Because there was something that proved the Heavenly Flame Strike had existed.

Lingering embers, shimmering like heat haze, rising from the abyssal-corrupted soil of the mountain ridge and the ruins of the temple.

‘But why are only embers left?’

Where on earth had the main force of Heavenly Flame Strike, the flames of such mighty power that it would make one laugh hollowly, disappeared to?

"Hehehe… Hehehehe… Hehehehehehehe… Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha…!"

It was then that Nariaduke, who had maintained the etiquette and dignity of an old noble ever since its reappearance, let out a roaring laugh, as if greatly satisfied.

"Excellent, Keltas… to think a mortal body could be so outstanding…!"

The transcendent's roaring laughter instantly became extreme terror and shock itself to mortal perception.

"Ugh, Uwaaaahk!"

The skulls of those with weak minds suddenly exploded, scattering brain matter and bone fragments onto nearby comrades.

"A body that can draw out nearly 40 percent of this Nariaduke's power… the authority to break the laws of space-time personally bestowed by the Queen of Time…!"

Valencidis realized that what Dadan, the dean of Rivendell, had shouted earlier was half right and half wrong.

It was a well-known fact that Nariaduke, the Three Wheels of Time, had indeed resurrected by borrowing a human body, which has limitations.

But that body.

That body it had taken possession of.

The problem was that the body it occupied belonged to Lynn, the youngest Archmage in history, who had died prematurely before her full limits could be revealed, and who had been evaluated as possibly becoming the second Great Sage.

‘Nariaduke, that transcendent being, did not resurrect imperfectly…’

In this era, where two sages had returned to dust, it had resurrected by borrowing the most supreme body it could acquire.

‘Its state perfectly preserved within the ice of Juyeosogyedaeban, exactly as it was, with the power of youth surging…’

Among modern humans, is there a hero who can stop Lynn, other than Faykoliere?

Moreover, now, with the authority of the abyss overlaid on Lynn's power?

Truly, an absolute ruler had awakened within the body of a creature that had approached absolute power.

The situation where the crowds screamed and fled with faces whiter than a blank sheet of paper, or sat blankly, letting out mad laughter, was not strange at all.

‘Did the Water Dragon foresee such a future?’

Even if it did, would it matter?

The White Dragon Legion was not born for combat, so their combat ability against the abyss is extremely inferior compared to the other two kindred races.

If Yeriserica, the Water Dragon, were to come herself, the story would be different, but that divine dragon remains unmoving, citing the need to guard the World Tree.

‘The Cardinals, the Yellow True Dragon, must come. But I heard they cannot leave the Papal See because they have to protect the ailing Mad Dragon…’

Then who on earth can stop that thing here and now?

* * *

Beyond that, as shivers that seemed to overturn heaven and earth echoed from the ground and dust fell wildly, a 'little one' was dying in the boy's arms.

"Tureyna, Tureyna, Tureyna."

Pipi pecked at the little one's face, rubbed its head against its cheek, and wailed, but the little one could only vomit blood, unable to utter a sound, as if all its internal organs were destroyed.

All life force had already been absorbed, and the abyssal power that maintained the body's immortality had drained away, so it was beyond repair by spells or Juyeosogyedaeban.

Even if so, it would only die within the ice.

Only bitter guilt and a sense of loss floated chaotically in the boy's mind.

‘It’s too late.’

Meeting this one again, too.

Twisting the magic circle with Bell Quilius, too.

‘It's too late.’

This foolish one had clung to an impossible wish and waited for 300 years, but I…

It was within a deep underground cavity formed when the cliff's ground also collapsed as the Belachio Temple disintegrated.

To his old disciple, who was gasping faint breaths and looking up at him with unfocused eyes, the boy slowly opened his mouth.

"Tureyna."

If he could meet her again, there were so many stories he wanted to tell as an old friend.

As a master, there was also a great deal of wrath he should have unleashed upon the disciple's eerie eccentricities.

There must have been a great deal.

But his throat felt as if something was tightly constricting it, his voice wouldn't come out as he wished, and there was only one thing he could say.

"I'm sorry."

Words he should have said a little more, a little earlier.

So that this pitiful one wouldn't have to wait, so that this fool wouldn't have to walk a path of immeasurable suffering.

Words he should have uttered with an awkward yet playful voice, after stepping out of the melted ice of unique abilities.

"I was too late, wasn't I?"

It was a quiet, gentle voice, like a lullaby.

Perhaps it was the final lullaby of life, sung to a disciple who was now to end her long journey and fall into a deep sleep.

He wanted to give her a final smile, but the corners of his mouth simply wouldn't go up, stubbornly drooping downwards.

"But seriously, just how foolish must one be to wait for 300 years…?"

Should he not have created something like Juyeosogyedaeban?

Should he not have used an incomplete ritual?

Should he not have promised to return using such a shoddy ritual?

Should he have just died that day?

So that his comrades could bury him in the tomb of memories, wash away their sorrow with tears, and live their own lives, just as he was now living his.

"You must be very tired from waiting, aren't you?"

At that one whispered word from his master, accompanied by a final sad smile, ripples of distant memory quietly spread through the very center of the disciple's soul.

"Now, rest peacefully."