Chapter 162 Ready
The three powers that humans possess.
Among them, magic has had an immense impact on the progress of humanity. Unlike qi and divine power, it elevated the standard of living to heights beyond measure.
The streets of past cities, once stained with filth and garbage, unsanitary to the point that even the slums of today would find them unrecognizable.
Magic is changing the era.
And naturally, it is not the product of mere coincidence.
Magic is the result born from process.
At times, even a mage themself may face outcomes during experimentation that they had not foreseen, yet even those are inevitabilities, merely unnoticed in advance.
In short, there is no such thing as magic without causality.
And the same goes for black magic.
That is why doubt arose in Bishop Ronanderk's testimony.
'Before the bishop reacted, in that fleeting instant, he manifested black magic and manipulated Warrens to drive a blade into the bishop's back?'
The bishop is no scarecrow.
Those who hold overwhelming divine power are as sensitive as paladins. All the more so when black magic manifests right before their eyes — it is impossible not to notice.
Of course, the idea that Warrens had already been under mental control is irrelevant.
For as long as black magic is sustained, mana must continue to flow. If that were the case, the bishop would have discovered it long ago.
An abnormal casting speed.
The means befitting such a feat is only one.
'A magic circle.'
If the circle had been inscribed into Warrens body beforehand, it becomes possible.
Without calculation, simply by stirring mana, the circle would activate. Proof of this lay in the magic circle engraved upon Warrens head.
Verden immediately analyzed the circle.
Though not deeply versed in black magic, he could at least discern its general nature.
And as expected, it was a circle designed to manipulate the mind.
But that was not all.
There were also circles that inflicted delusions, curses of torment akin to burns — three magic circles in total, combined into one.
A composite magic circle.
The fiend was not only a black magus, but also highly proficient in magic circles.
No doubt, Warrens had endured unbearable torture.
Why would he inscribe such black circles?
'No, perhaps it is obvious.'
To the Glory of the Dead, Warrens was nothing less than a traitor.
Simply stealing the Orb of the Undead would have sufficed, yet he went further, turning a diocese into ruins. With that kind of temperament, there is no way they would have spared a traitor.
It was only natural revenge.
Though, in doing so, they had left behind a clue with their own hands.
Laying Warrens down again, Verden returned to the chamber.
Calia asked,
"Why the sudden change? Don't tell me you've found a clue to pursue them?"
"I have."
"...!"
At Verden's unhesitating reply, all eyes turned to him.
"No matter how I think of it, there was no clue at all… how on earth?"
The Compass of the Black Hour.
An artificial artifact with mana-tracking functionality. By tracing the magic of the circle, it was possible. Of course, Verden did not reveal this so openly.
If word spread, the Black Hour would surely act.
And with matters still unfinished in the kingdom, this was no time to oppose the Black Hour directly.
"I cannot explain the details, but I do have a means to track the Glory of the Dead. There are limitations, however, and I cannot determine an exact location, only a certain range."
"Isn't that enough?"
"The problem is, we have little time."
The Glory of the Dead had drawn public attention with undead, then stolen the Orb of the Undead. They had ravaged not only the kingdom, but also a diocese.
All in just a few days.
After provoking the Luas Church so openly, there is no way they would linger. And neither would they flee the kingdom simply for reclaiming the Orb.
Had that been their intent, they would have already left before the theft was discovered.
No, they will soon ignite an incident with the Orb of the Undead. What it might be is impossible to know, but it would not be something minor.
Thus, there was no time to waste riding in a group on horseback.
'That is why I move alone.'
Verden's
And he had both the power and the confidence to face the Glory of the Dead. Even if there was a black magus capable of wrecking an entire diocese single-handedly, Verden would not falter.
But before Verden could speak, Calia cut in.
"No time, then. In that case, we have no choice but to use an airship."
"No, Lady Calia, surely you don't mean…"
"There is no helping it, Vespa. The situation is dire."
"Is there an airship ready for immediate use?"
At Gloss's question, Calia nodded.
"Further north from here lies the domain of Count Territ. He is my uncle, and he directly manages one of the Esperanza marquisate's airship docks there. If we seize an airship from him, we can save a great deal of time."
"But Lady Calia, you have no authority to move an airship."
"That is true. And my uncle is notoriously rigid, persuading him would take time. Therefore…"
Calia declared boldly,
"We steal the airship."
"Your own family's airship?"
Bishop Ronanderk looked troubled.
"I know it's madness, but what choice do we have? With this many people, there is no other way to move without terrain restrictions but an airship. And as the saying goes, forgiveness is easier won than permission."
Calia turned her eyes to Verden.
"With an airship, we can surely arrive in time. Wouldn't this do?"
Mmm… Verden soon nodded.
Indeed, with an airship, there was no reason for him to act alone. And Calia would never permit it anyway.
Thus, their means of travel was secured.
Now, it was Verden's turn.
"I must make preparations, would you leave me for a moment?"
***
Dismantling the magic circles engraved upon Warrens was simple.
Even though three were entangled in a composite circle, it was trivial compared to the ones found in the treasure vault of the Bohemirn Magic Tower.
'But simply dismantling them is not enough.'
The goal was the mana of the one who inscribed the black circle.
Thus, all that was needed was to transfer the black circle into an empty mana stone. It required delicate work, but not beyond him.
There was no reason to fail.
He had already succeeded in even more difficult work.
The fragment of Gluttony.
By linking three circles, Verden had separated the foreign aura within the fragment and fused it with a mana stone. Compared to that, transplanting a circle was simple.
Verden brought Warrens into the chamber, laying him upon the floor.
Sitting at his head, Verden drew threads of mana from his fingertips, weaving them into the circle.
Crack… crackle…
Before long, the outer and middle nodes of the circles were shattered.
Only the circle of mental manipulation remained. Transplanting that into the empty stone would suffice.
With threads of mana, Verden scraped at the link between Warrens and the circle.
"Ugh…"
Warrens groaned in pain, but Verden did not stop.
At last, nearing separation, Verden conjured another circle with his left hand.
The Circle of Combination.
One of the high-level circles used in alchemy, applied in a different manner here.
Fwoooosh!
The moment the black circle was detached, Verden activated the other circle. Mana's light filled the room, forcing the black circle into the empty stone.
'Success.'
The black circle shone faintly upon the stone.
Of course, that did not make it portable or usable.
The mental manipulation circle itself was useless, and all he had was a stone tainted with its mana.
Truthfully, it had no value whatsoever.
But Verden had an artificial artifact.
The Compass of the Black Hour.
An instrument that tracked mana to pursue magi.
Though range was limited, as long as the Glory of the Dead had not fled the kingdom, they could not escape Verden's grasp.
Without hesitation, Verden placed the stone into the compass and activated it.
The needle spun, then stopped.
Its point aimed northwest of the kingdom.
Unlike with Gluttony, this time the needle pointed firmly in a single direction.
***
Within a drawing room of a certain city.
Three men sat inside.
One, a brown-haired man in dazzling golden attire, sipped the finest tea with delight, while behind him stood another, gazing straight ahead without a flicker.
Across from them sat an old man in a black robe, Nosa.
The brown-haired man.
The third prince of the Royal Family of Estiria, Evers Brun di Estiria, spoke with a smile.
"The incident in the south of the kingdom was most satisfying."
"I merely kept to our bargain, Your Highness the Third Prince."
"Well, true, but to be honest I did not expect it to be to this degree. To sweep fertile lands clean with thousands of undead troops… it was so far beyond expectations that even I was astonished. Truly, I cannot hide my smile."
Evers chuckled lightly, shoulders trembling.
The 7th-tier spell,
The use of such a rare and difficult-to-obtain scroll was not merely to divert the diocese's eyes. Behind it, there was also the bargain struck with the Third Prince.
Evers' navy-blue eyes gleamed.
"With this level of damage, my brothers will not be able to simply overlook it."
The kingdom's granary regions had suffered catastrophic damage at the hands of the undead.
And those domains, the ones that governed the granaries, were mostly controlled by nobles who followed the First and Second Princes. Their presence in the succession race had always been a crushing disadvantage to the Third Prince.
So he broke them.
Next year would bring famine, but the Third Prince did not care. Whether the kingdom's people starved to death or not was irrelevant — if he could not claim the throne, nothing else mattered.
Unleashing the undead upon the granaries was purely to weaken his rival claimants.
In Evers' greed, neither the lives of commoners nor the future of the kingdom held any place at all.
"Ah, and what of that wench Calia?"
The Third Prince had formed his Union with the power of the Glory of the Dead and the support of nobles.
Then Calia had thrown cold water… no, ice water upon it. The Union had been half-shattered, and even the nobles who supported him had suffered serious losses.
And his faction had already been so pitifully small.
At Evers' anger, Nosa responded.
"By now she should be buried deep underground, in darkness where even the light of Luas does not reach."
"Hm, I would have preferred to take her head myself, or perhaps toss her to my older brother, who is mad with lust. Still, since she is dead, my mood is improved."
"Then, Your Highness, it is time for you to pay the price."
"I have yet to fulfill the final bargain, have I?"
"Surely the sincerity we have shown over the past two or three years is more than enough of a down payment?"
At Nosa's serious tone, Evers chuckled.
"Don't be so stiff, it was a joke. Of course I brought it."
Evers gestured.
The man behind him placed a long rectangular wooden box upon the table. Seeing Nosa's eyes light up, the Third Prince set down his teacup.
"Just as you said, I found this buried beneath the royal palace. Naturally, away from prying eyes. So tell me, what is this? There is no record of it anywhere in the archives of the royal family."
"That is not part of the bargain."
Nosa's tone was firm.
Do not cross the line any further.
Annoying, but Evers had no intent to antagonize them.
The power of the Glory of the Dead was more than enough to threaten his own standing.
'Besides, this box exudes a dreadful feeling.'
So dreadful he dared not even think of opening it.
Best not to indulge his curiosity. The throne of Estiria was all that mattered.
Turning from the box, Evers drew a vial from his breast and handed it to Nosa. Inside was his own blood and a small piece of his flesh.
"For the final bargain, here is the blood and flesh you asked of me. It hurt like hell."
"You have done well."
There was not the faintest trace of respect in his voice.
Tch.
Clicking his tongue, Evers rose from his seat.
"Then my part is finished. I shall return to the palace and wait for the ritual to be completed. The mighty undead who bring death at their master's command. I look forward to it."
With his guards, Evers departed the chamber.
Moments later, Viola emerged from the shadows.
"Well, farewell to that nauseating prince. Hmph, since the deal is over, perhaps I should just kill him outright?"
***
"Enough, Viola. Now is not the time to concern ourselves with that brat. More importantly, do you have the Orb of the Undead?"
"Of course."
Viola drew out the orb.
Though its mana and malevolent energy had been somewhat depleted compared to before, it did not matter. It could be replenished.
Nosa took the Orb of the Undead into his possession.
"And the business at the diocese? It was handled quietly, I trust?"
"Quietly… not exactly. I may have gotten a little wild."
"..."
At Nosa's murderous gaze, Viola waved her hands.
"Don't worry. I didn't leave behind a single clue. Not that they could ever have a lead to track us in the first place."
"Do you not know the meaning of 'just in case'?"
"So what if they do? If by some miracle they actually track us down, then we kill every last one of them on the spot. Problem solved, right?"
"You…"
"Don't waste your head on pointless things. Let's check the box. We need to see if it's real, don't we?"
Viola quickly sat beside Nosa.
With a faint sigh, Nosa turned his gaze to the wooden box.
Inside lay the very reason he and Viola had struck their bargain with the Third Prince.
His heart pounded.
Together, the two of them placed their hands upon the box.
At the simultaneous chant, the box responded.
A seam appeared where none had existed, splitting open. With careful pressure, Nosa pried it further.
At last, the box opened.
Inside lay a single human leg.
Viola tilted her head.
"This is the Great Corpse's body? Looks awfully plain. Is this really it?"
"Watch your tongue."
Nosa examined the leg.
Plain to the eye, but to him it emanated an overwhelming aura of death, a power that even two 5th-tier black magi could never resist.
At that, Nosa shuddered with ecstasy.
"Ahh…"
The Glory of the Dead had existed since before Nosa was born.
The "servants" who led great black magi had wandered the world for ages, seeking the scattered remains of the Great Corpse.
This was the result.
Starting with the Kingdom of Estiria, they would gather the remaining pieces and revive the Great Corpse.
Then life itself would vanish from the world, leaving only death.
An immortal world.
That was the end destination of the Glory of the Dead.
Closing the box, Nosa summoned Rimanen.
"Take this box and head immediately to the stronghold with the others."
"And you two will not come?"
"We will depart after confirming that the ritual grounds are functioning properly."
The promise to the Third Prince mattered little.
One of the Glory's purposes in coming was to test the ritual grounds, and besides, they were curious to see what the prince would do with his mighty undead.
"Yes, Nosa."
Bowing, Rimanen took the box and departed.
Then Nosa and Viola made their way to the ancient ritual ground hidden in the canyon.
A vast circular ritual site.
At its center lay a body, and beside the candelabras along the boundary stood figures — humans whose blue veins bulged across their bodies, whose skin half-melted, caught between life and death.
Nosa stepped into the center.
"Now, we shall begin the Grim Reaper ritual. Guard the perimeter well."
"Who could possibly come here? Just hurry up and start."
Ignoring Viola's whining, Nosa placed the Orb of the Undead upon the corpse's chest on the altar. Then he raised high a staff carved from deadwood.
Mado,
───Kuaaaaahhhh!
───Kyaaaaaaahhh!
As vast mana spread, the humans at the edge shrieked in unison.
Nosa's mado bound the deaths of many into the bodies of the living.
By doing so, he could wield amassed deathly energy and spirits at will. Not a grand mado, but one potent enough to create mighty undead.
The deaths stored in the living burst forth, filling the Orb of the Undead.
Next, with the completed orb, they would forge the harvester of death, the Grim Reaper, seal the contract with the Third Prince's blood and flesh, and thus finish the ritual.
This ritual ground had been created in ancient times precisely for such a purpose.
The day they would leave the Kingdom of Estiria was now imminent.
***
The dockyard within Count Territ's domain.
A place where the Esperanza marquisate's three small airships were managed. Airships were not just transport, but strategic assets, and thus heavily guarded.
For years, Knight Wayton had been tasked with the dockyard's security.
It was dull, yes, but the pay was high, and he had plenty of time to improve himself, so he had no complaints. In fact, he was content.
Tonight was his duty shift to guard the airships.
Wayton came prepared, with coffee and an entertaining novel to last him through the night.
Now and then he would patrol, checking that each guard was in place. Otherwise, his job was merely to stay awake. Perfect for enjoying the leisure of the quiet dawn.
'Heh heh, perfect.'
He was fully prepared for the night.
Suppressing a grin, Wayton sat down and opened his book.
Time passed, and dawn approached.
A sound came from behind.
"...!"
Shiiing!
Wayton, ever the knight, reacted instantly, sword drawn as he turned.
But the one he saw was wholly unexpected.
A red-haired female knight.
"Huh? Lady Calia?"
"It has been a while, Wayton."
So calm, exchanging greetings, that Wayton was left baffled.
'Why would the daughter of the Marquis of Esperanza be here? Ah, perhaps she is visiting the Count's domain? But why come to the dockyard at this hour?'
Questions swirled in his mind.
But before he could resolve them, Calia spoke with an apologetic look.
"Give my regards to my uncle. Tell him I shall return the airship after I borrow it."
"…What?"
At that instant, Vespa and Gloss sprang from behind Calia and subdued Wayton. Binding his limbs, choking him until he collapsed unconscious.
Wayton was a skilled knight.
If battle had broken out, it would not have ended quietly. That was why Calia had acted as bait.
And so, the forces around the airship were swiftly neutralized.
Calia gave the order.
"Board the airship on the right, the Velos. I shall pilot it myself."
Those who had lain hidden nearby all rushed aboard.
Watching the entire sequence, Verden thought,
'…Is this really right?'
But the die was cast.
The core mana stone flared to life, and the airship lifted into the sky.
Moments later, Count Territ's domain was in an uproar.