Quit The Hero Party

EP.498 Heavenly Grace (2)

Heavenly grace, a gift from the sky.

In the primordial era when the continent split into countless paths by the will of the gods, Acrita was known by such a name. However, considering the times, “heavenly grace” was not a very positive title.

Humans were an inferior and weak species, not chosen by any god. Looking up to the sky, there were no gods to grant their wishes, only evil existed there.

They pillaged, took, and killed.

Higher beings that gave power to such entities.

Thus, for humanity at that time, the sky represented negative connotations, an inescapable calamity, a term symbolizing great malevolence. Consequently, the title “heavenly grace” given to Acrita was also not a particularly good one.

An existence not human.

An entity distant from humanity.

An alien being sent down from the heavens.

At that time, Acrita was an alien existence both in positive and negative senses. Joining the resistance, he shattered the forces blessed by the gods with ease, having killed apostles of the gods’ generals nearly ten times.

Considering that the previous resistance had only hunted two generals over three hundred years, this was a remarkable feat. Still, he remained indifferent. Without showing a hint of emotion, he calmly dissected the general’s corpse amidst his comrades’ elation.

‘To mimic the final strike of an old man devoted to the sword, just by witnessing it once.’

‘More adept in tactics and strategy than an old veteran who survived decades on the battlefield. He excels in trench warfare, open-field, water battles, and more. In every battlefield, he achieves results.’

‘A human lifetime is but a moment for him. A talent uncharacteristic of humans.’

‘No matter which path he chooses, he shall surely reach the pinnacle.’

It is said he learns merely by observing.

Said, once seen and attempted, he comprehends it.

He said, he said, he said…

‘Heavenly grace.’

A being that proves itself by trampling on others’ lives.

‘Heavenly grace, Acrita.’

Evil bestowed by the heavens.

The radiant blooming starflowers and the flashing platinum aura create an uproar like no other. The blooming starflowers covered the area. Reading the phenomena with the platinum aura, the moment the Watcher waved his hands, Skebal’s spell was unraveled.

【■■, ■■■.】

【■■, ■■■■■■■■.】

However, despite its incompleteness, a god is still a god.

Skebal, having obtained everything except divinity, moved his massive form. Tentacles thrashed and space shattered like glass. Though he could not reach the realm of authority, it possessed enough power to be called a miracle.

Beyond the breaking space, something appeared.

It was the outside of the world. A night sky devoid of stars. Therefore, only a bottomless darkness replaced the shattered space. The dark waters pouring from the abyss stained the blooming starflowers black.

Crunch.

The flower buds, which had bloomed with the aid of hundreds of spells, wilted the moment the black water touched them. The petals crumbled and scattered.

“…”

Ayla frowned.

Beginning from the last queen of Arcadia, the accumulated starlight over the long years. Yet, those who have accumulated power are not only humans. Ayla closed one eye. Resti gestured toward Ayla.

Kiing.

The Watcher’s platinum aura filled one of Ayla’s eyes. Stella and the Watcher were originally one being. Borrowing Resti’s eye, Ayla gazed at the entity before her.

Longing.

A multitude of wailing demon souls, gathered under Skebal’s distinct feeling of yearning. That existence yearned for something. What is it yearning for?

‘Perfection, the truth beyond, the heavens.’

The mage who yearned for truth wishes to become the sky himself. That is Skebal’s yearning. The mage who wishes to become the sky gestured. To ascend, Skebal intended to consider the children of the stars as offerings.

Endlessly overflowing black droplets filled the underground space and rose into the air. The risen droplets formed letters.

Spells emitted light, and Ayla gritted her teeth, bringing forth flowers. The blooming flowers blocked the spells. Some flowers wilted, some bloomed, and others shattered as they bloomed black.

…An unbeatable enemy if alone.

Converge.

But of course, she was not alone. Ayla smiled at the presence she felt behind her. The opened flower petals were being drawn to one spot.

Flash.

A brief flash exploded as Ayla turned around. There stood Chloe, aiming her staff forward. Petals breathed a thud, thud, thud sound as they ignited at the tip of her staff.

Supreme spell, Flare.

Converged starlight was freed.

Heat rays adorned the underground space. They burned the rushing black waters and struck the abyss that lay beyond the shattered fragments of space. The flowing black waters evaporated in an instant.

Keeeying!!

Following that, Resti’s spell and the storm summoned by Belnoa swept through the area, battering Skebal’s physical form. While Skebal staggered for a moment, Ayla sensed victory. If they pressed like this, they could end that distorted god.

In that thought’s moment…

Thud, as stones crumbled.

Ayla quickly looked up. There was a Braver, falling with shadows trailing behind him.

“…Up!”

The moment Ayla shouted, Belnoa had already charged the ground. Ayla gestured toward the racing Belnoa. The petals that devoured magic enveloped Belnoa. The Braver, Acrita, is a mage. An existence that reached the Great Mage.

‘But no matter how great a mage…’

He could not contend with the petals of the stars that devour even the incantations of an imperfect god.

‘Thus, our victory.’

Reaching the end of the chessboard.

The Braver inserted an unexpected variable.

Having arrived here, the moment he bloomed, the Braver’s plan went awry; it was essentially his defeat.

In that moment Ayla thought.

Boom!

The leaping Belnoa crashed into the ground.

There were no significant injuries, but the important thing was that Belnoa had been pushed back. Belnoa, who reached the realm of the superhuman and strengthened his physique with Draco Form, couldn’t comprehend why he was pushed back in close combat.

Let alone Belnoa himself.

Belnoa rose, narrowing his eyes.

At the moment of impact, Belnoa had been prepared for the Braver’s spell. However, the Braver did not cast a spell. He merely grasped something in the air and swung it.

And, it was certainly…

Belnoa looked ahead.

Thud, as the Braver easily landed. The rising dust was effortlessly swept away by the Braver’s gentle movement. What he wielded was a long spear.

Not a staff, but a spear.

Along the spear, instead of mana, qi rose up.

Realizing the gaze of the hunting party upon him, the Braver Acrita smiled. He spun the spear in his hand to readjust his grip.

“How many years have I lived?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“There’s no way I’d cling to just one kind of magic, unlike this friend behind me. I’ve dabbled in various fields.”

Originally, he was a warrior.

In his days known as “Heavenly Grace,” he once charged across the continent with this very body, wielding a spear. It was a masterpiece he stole from a blacksmith who was dousing flames.

Holding a masterpiece that showed no sign of rust even after thousands of years, Acrita charged the ground.

In a moment of brilliance, spells imbued themselves within that body. Acceleration, strength enhancement, weight reduction… As spells surpassing limits tried straining his body, Acrita chuckled. He had seen something good before.

Swirl.

Black dust danced around.

Acrita, who enhanced his body in the same manner as Raniel, rapidly closed the distance. Just as he attempted to swing the spear, Belnoa blocked him.

Kaahhhhhh!

At the moment Belnoa’s arm, modified by Draco Form, met the spear, Acrita loosely held the spear shaft. He twisted his body along the rebounding spear point. Utilizing Belnoa’s strength, he swung the spear back.

The accelerated spearhead struck Belnoa’s body.

As Belnoa was forced back, Acrita launched himself into a sprint. While sprinting, he opened his mouth and enounced. In an instant, the ground trembled, and knights rose from the black waters.

Necromancer.

The knights rushed towards Belnoa. Just as Belnoa was about to smash all the knights and pursue Acrita, the ground shook. Swamp, Inferno. The spell completed in an instant bound Belnoa’s feet.

Wizard.

A spell aimed at him was deflected by the spell.

The power aiding him came from the black waters created by Skebal. Just as they used starlight, Acrita merely utilized the black waters summoned by Skebal.

…The one called “Heavenly Grace” had lived for over thousands of years. A genius who consumed in a moment what others accumulate over a lifetime, he had learned while forcibly seizing the bodies of others over millennia.

Necromancer, Wizard, Summoner, Battle Mage.

He reached mastery over magic.

Spear Master, Knight, Archer…

He mastered all weapons handled by hand.

Thus, now that heavenly grace Acrita moves his true form, he is now the Sword Master and the wizard who touched the truth, embodying all at once.

Kaahhhhhh!

Spells collided. Shoving back Belnoa, dodging blows, Acrita sprinted toward the rear.

…He had primarily used magic all this time because it was easier that way. There was no need to train a new body every time he changed forms. Simply using magic allowed him to accomplish much more than just swinging a spear.

Necromancy, plagues, deception, resurrection, possession, theft.

He could merely kill and torture with a one-dimensional manner of using weapons. Even Ganikalt, considered a top swordsman, could at most slice through the heavens, right? In comparison, magic could fundamentally alter the rules of this world.

Acrita had seen with his own eyes how Yormun and Gletus opened the sky and altered the world to their will.

Thus, Acrita chose magic.

To manipulate the world according to his desires, like them.

But now, with a variable arising… even now, with his true form moving, there was no need to refrain from wielding a spear. He should use everything available. Acrita charged, easily swinging the spear.

As the spear traced its path, black droplets rose.

Supreme spell, Judgment.

In an instant, the black waters evaporated as the spell completed. With a crash, compressed lightning fell toward the spearhead. The spearhead, infused with black lightning, ominously glowed.

At that moment…

Skebal, who was facing Ayla, sent a telepathic message to Acrita. To close his eyes. In a moment, overcoming presence made Acrita chuckle.

“…If that statement from before bothered you, I apologize, my friend.”

Finally, you are being helpful.

Unlike him, the mage who had dedicated his long life to one particular field. Thus, the wizard, now touching upon the truth, was beginning to awaken.

Magic is a distortion of providence.

As a distortion of providence, sorcerers have always traded with the stars. Twisting some rules cast down by the stars to enact miracles… receiving permission from the stars is only natural.

‘But, it was an illusion.’

Having stepped into transcendence, Skebal realized.

‘We do not trade with the stars.’

When he first turned, he believed he was engaging in magic by trading with the Demon Lord. Thus, he had taken the Demon Lord as his master, believing he had to go through him to use magic.

However, all that was merely an illusion.

The one with whom a mage trades is neither stars nor shadows. Not transcendent beings. Something more fundamental… the very providence surrounding this world. Even gods are not free from providence. In fact, they become more entangled.

If set ablaze, it burns. Pouring water extinguishes the fire. Pounding the earth makes it hollow. Actions lead to results. To create results requires causes. Ultimately, causes come with a price.

Sacrifice something to gain something.

Equivalent exchange.

Stars and shadows are bound by that providence as well.

The most straightforward yet solid providence. By that providence, the stars and shadows merely serve as ‘scales’ aiding the transactions of sorcerers.

And now.

He no longer required such assistance.

He could merely become the scale himself.

“Ahh.”

Skebal groaned.

He awakened the truth. Sparks flew in his mind. The sparks became words. He felt the shackles that bound him completely shatter. Upon reaching the truth, illumination came in an instant.

No need for stars or shadows.

He was all that was.

No need for tedious procedures, nor circuits to simplify those procedures, nor the act of forming sentences from word combinations, nor drawing circuits, nor even the act of pronouncing words.

Merely paying.

Whoosh.

The black waters that had once filled the area instantly disappeared. Not evaporated, but rather vanished as though they had never existed in the world.

Paid the price. Created the cause. Set ablaze. Poured water. Pounded the earth. Took action. Created the cause.

So, what remained is…

Only the result.

Whoosh,

and the underground space was swallowed whole by darkness in an instant.

---