READ WEBNOVEL Chapter 504
—
EP.504 Divine Favor (8)
—
O dragon, sing of the goddess’s wrath.
On the day the lord of the sky sings of the goddess’s anger, rivers of fire shall flow on the ground, and fierce storms shall churn the heavens. Oh, so bow your heads. Praise the greatness of the goddess that she may not be angered.
In the ancient times.
Even amid the chaos where the apostles of the gods sang devotion to their divine powers, the goddess’s champion, the Black Dragon, remained unyielding. Countless generals ventured out to hunt the dragon, but none returned alive to their god.
Giant Dragon, Black Storm.
The dragon coiled in the gorge, guarding the slumber of its goddess. Until the day she awakens from her deep slumber, it sang of fury so the world would not forget the goddess. Thus, the Giant Dragon was called the ruler of the sky, and her wrath became legend.
‘···Is that it.’
And then, Skebal.
‘Is that the wrath of the gods?’
He was fully feeling what he had only read about in ancient tomes. It was a truly historic spectacle. The sky turned crimson. The black storm devoured and obliterated everything it touched. There was no magical intervention in this phenomenon so close to a miracle.
It was far too natural to be mere magic.
With just the flapping of its wings and the opening of its mouth, that colossal being invoked miracles. Thus, it was called a perfect being. Skebal narrowed his gaze as he unleashed spells with wild abandon.
‘Why.’
Why indeed.
‘How is it that I cannot touch something so close to the gods?’
He had grasped the truth he so longed for.
A truth he had won by discarding everything.
Skebal reflected on his life. His life had begun with abandonment and was now nearing its end in the same way.
He abandoned comrades. He abandoned his humanity. He abandoned his human form. He abandoned the Tower of Magic and, if need be, he had discarded emotion and memory without hesitation.
「Skebal, please.」
Having abandoned so much.
「Please, spare me.」
Before the horrors created by the Braver, Skebal could have easily tossed aside his position as the Demon Lord’s army’s supreme commander. There, he turned a deaf ear to the voices of his subordinates who believed in him. It wasn’t just because they had become irretrievable beings.
It was always about abandonment.
To be fixated now would be ridiculous.
Wasn’t he the one who had trampled on his own kin? After walking such a long path, he had strayed too far to be swayed by trivial emotions. Throughout that long journey, Skebal had gazed upon just one thing. The truth, the mage’s dream.
‘I thought if I reached the truth, I would awaken to everything.’
He thought that by awakening to everything, he would become omniscient and omnipotent, and be free from all. But no. Reality even orchestrated the ancient beast’s whims. Skebal’s eyes contracted.
Thus, what he touched was the deep-seated truth hidden within.
···Skebal longed for the Ashen.
He longed for the Great Mage Cardi van Armiel. Even when human, and even in this form, he had continuously desired him. Despite losing and forgetting many things over a thousand years, one phrase remained unforgettable.
「You will never surpass me.」
Your path is wrong.
You cannot reach me on your path.
Cardi van Armiel’s words were etched into Skebal’s soul like a brand. Even a millennium could not erase the scar. Even now, having become a god, a piece of Skebal’s soul still bore envy toward the Ashen.
Toward Cardi van Armiel.
Toward Raniel van Trias.
Toward those damned Ashen.
Skebal detested, yet also idolized them.
It was a truth he did not want to acknowledge. Even now, a being close to the gods, what arose in Skebal’s mind was the magic of the Ashen Mages. The spells that had trampled over him.
···Ah.
Skebal groaned.
What he had managed to cling to until the very end, the inferiority complex regarding the Ashen. The moment he realized that fact, he let out a hollow laugh. What good is it to attain enlightenment and reach godhood?
‘I couldn’t even discard fragments of my humanity.’
He thought he had come a long way.
But when he looked back, he hadn’t moved at all. He was still merely a human, steeped in inferiority. Until the very last moment, he was just a coward thinking of fleeing.
Crack, and.
Skebal grasped something.
It was the remaining Life Vessel within him. Ordinarily, its value was trivial. A means to escape, an extra life, an artificial creation… such things could not even match the fleeting moments of a human.
‘I shall offer it.’
But at this moment, it was different.
Skebal shattered every Life Vessel he had. The ancient lich, who had not faced death for over a thousand years, had directly smashed his escape route with his own hands.
The one who stood far from death approached it with a step forward. That action held definite value.
Swishhhhhh.
Black water flooded. The overflowing water became a flood, extinguishing the Black Dragon’s flame. Above the black sea, Skebal raised his head. Looking up at the sky, he saw a dragon soaring freely. Lifting his arm, he gazed at the dragon.
‘If I cannot touch it.’
If I cannot discard this inferiority.
‘I shall drag it down.’
I shall pull the sky down.
Skebal clenched his hand. Was it coincidence, or fate? The remnants of the Demon Lord’s army that formed Skebal’s flesh wished for the same thing.
A massive hand shot up from the black water.
Just as the Demon Lord had once done.
The rising hands chased the Black Dragon. Though the dragon flapped its wings to escape the grip, the hands relentlessly pursued, seizing the dragon’s wings. They clutched its legs.
Crunch, crunch.
The sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing.
The dragon’s wings were ripped. The dragon’s legs shattered. However, the Black Dragon would not remain passive. As it was dragged down beneath the earth, it lashed out, clawing at the hands as it charged towards Skebal.
Crunch, crack, splat.
Blood sprayed as the wings of the Black Dragon, caught by the black hands, were torn apart. The towers implanted in Skebal’s spine were pulverized by the dragon’s claws. The sounds of breaking, tearing, and shattering echoed endlessly.
Battle raged upon the black waves.
Neither side yielding an inch.
Acrita swung his spear. He persistently followed. He leapt from the ground, heading straight for Destel. That guy, that guy was it.
‘It’s you.’
The variable that overturned my game.
The variable I must kill was you. Not the Ashen, not Stella, not the Watcher. The one who overturned everything was none other than you!
“···Ha!”
Acrita, who had lost his emotions, felt rage at this moment. Anger and pleasure were but a thin line apart, yet the Braver could not understand that delicate distinction. He became furious and delighted.
He charged with a spear aimed at Destel.
Clang! echoed as metal clashed against metal. In the moment their spearheads met, the spear of salvation Destel wielded fainted for an instant. The spear made of starlight was neutralized in the clash with the ordinary spear.
“···Tsk.”
Destel clicked his tongue, releasing the scattered spear. He wielded his sword. With every clash, he had to switch weapons. That ordinary spear was ridiculously difficult to handle.
‘Persistent, aren’t you.’
Destel frowned.
The Braver aimed solely at him. Pushing through the waves of stars with minimal effort, he dodged the pursuing Karioth and cast spells to bind Lac’s ankles, plunging toward him.
As if he aimed to kill him first.
The intensity was nothing short of ferocious.
Though Lac was fighting valiantly… he was the Lac who had only just joined after battling Barta. Of course, if he confronted Acrita head-on in that state, he would likely win, but in his injured state, Lac could not pursue Acrita.
Swish.
Acrita easily swung aside the highest level spells being launched at him, yet it seemed difficult for him to join this battle.
BANG!
With a screech, Destel was pushed back.
Stepping on the swirling petals, Destel leapt sideways. Just as he intended to join Lac, clang! a spear swept in, tearing through the petals, blocking his path.
Thrusts rolling into slices.
The moment he hastily gripped the spear on the verge of being sliced apart by the Star-Spear, Destel was pushed back once more. His grip went numb. Surely, they wouldn’t let him go.
“I told you.”
Piercing through the falling petals, Acrita closed in on Destel.
“You are my foe.”
BANG!
“I must be the one to kill you.”
The gleaming eyes of the Braver stared down at Destel. The mixed gaze of madness sent cold shivers down his spine.
Hissssss!
As the splashes rose, his skin burned, and his flesh rotted, Acrita showed no signs of stopping. On the contrary, the more his body burned, the faster he accelerated. This was another meaning of being the Braver.
‘···This is maddening.’
Destel exhaled breathlessly as he took on the Braver’s onslaught. It was overwhelming. Too overwhelming. Yet, at the same time, Destel thought.
This was rather fortunate.
If the Braver truly desired to sink his fangs into his nape, then he could use that as a tactic. Calmly, coldly, and surely.
Destel saw the road leading to victory.
“······.”
He brought to mind the weapon hidden in the depths of the castle.
The weapon he discovered while exploring the temple after the Crusade against the Gletus. As he recalled the weapon that the traitor had inexplicably stored deep in his forge, Destel exhaled.
It will surely be a variable.
This too.