Chapter 456 - Achieved
Along with the disappearance of the Transcendent's figure, its presence completely vanished. The one-armed human and the two dwarves as well.
At this point there was no method left to track them.
Fribalt, who had retrieved his sword embedded in the earth, cautiously opened his mouth.
"Your Grace, Grand Duke Rivandale, forgive my impertinence, but there is something I wish to ask."
"Speak."
"Why did you let them go?"
Even if the opponent was a Transcendent who wielded spatial magic, if the Empire's Transcendent had willed it, preventing their escape should have been possible.
To put it simply, he could have spread rippling waves that constantly interfered with space, forcibly delaying the activation of spatial magic… besides, there existed 'other Transcendent techniques'.
Fribalt, being none other than the Grand Duke Rivandale's former direct disciple, knew this.
"You ask why I did nothing but watch, is that it. Then are you saying one of us, or one of those unknown Transcendents, should have died there on the spot?"
"…Our forces and the Imperial fleet could have joined with Your Grace."
"Your eyes are still unformed, Fribalt."
The Grand Duke turned his gaze afar.
"The power that broke the Atorium's artifact,
"In that case all the more reason—"
"Even so, strong. Strong enough that I had to unfold a Transcendent art. Of course, after that I could have cut off his spatial teleportation and ultimately subdued him, but even a rat bites when cornered. At worst, the price would have been the sinking of the Atorium, and your lives as well."
He had evaded and blocked the endless storm of elemental magic, but that was only because he alone was the target.
If 7th-tier magic had poured indiscriminately in all directions, there would have been no way to cut them all down.
The Grand Duke Rivandale was the sword of Arnak.
To deliberately antagonize a Transcendent not yet judged as an enemy of the Empire, and thereby inflict irreparable damage upon the Arnak Empire, was something he could not permit.
The sword saint, Fribalt, lowered his eyes and clenched his fist.
The Grand Duke asked.
"Why, do you feel ashamed, that as the Empire's lord you became an obstacle to it?"
"…I am sorry."
"Even that guilt is arrogance in excess."
His voice carried deeper weight.
"As you know, a Transcendent is not reached merely by being strong."
Only a few humans, as individuals, grow and reach their own limits.
Only a minute number are granted by the heavens the talent to aspire to transcendence.
And those who, at the pinnacle of their race, are chosen and awaken, are but a handful in the whole of history.
These three conditions must align precisely, and only then is a Transcendent born.
"My judgment, that Transcendent, considering the hidden trump cards yet unrevealed, is at least one of the fifteen greatest monsters in the world. Of course, as for the 'unofficial' rankings I cannot know."
"…"
"And you feel guilty for not being able to handle such a being? Overestimation. That is not an emotion for one who has not even brushed against the limit of talent to harbor."
It was a piercing admonishment.
Fribalt, who could not refute such utterly correct words, answered with silence.
"Cast off any guilt of failing your duty. What you should have is simply the will to improve, born from these experiences in the moment."
"I will keep it in mind."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"That is enough. And besides that… it was not a major reason, but there was another cause I sheathed my sword."
The Grand Duke turned his head slightly, glancing over his shoulder.
There stood Leona.
She had at some point recovered consciousness, slipped past the eyes of Fribalt and Merisa, and approached… her atmosphere, somehow, was different.
The Grand Duke spoke.
"I have not permitted a new spectator, Oathkeeper."
"How cold."
From Leona came a man's voice.
At the same time, a pressure flowed out from her, suppressing the inner selves of those around.
Her eyes radiated with a dark golden glow.
"It's been a long time since I saw such a spectacle, I was enjoying it. Must you ruin the flow like that to feel at ease? Even an uninvited guest is still a guest."
"An intruder is only an intruder. And to use your daughter as pretext, to intervene in the Second Prince affair and trespass into the volcanic region. A prospective fiancé, you say? Even so, don't you think the excuse flimsy?"
"Making flimsy excuses plausible, that's precisely what we are. Even the Imperial household took it quite seriously, didn't they? Well, anyway…"
The Oathkeeper inhabiting Leona's body twisted his lips into a sharp grin.
He looked over the devastated surroundings, ruined by the clash of Transcendents.
"A newly appeared Transcendent, without a sound. Seals his identity so tightly, it's unsettling, but unlike the outward guise of Mado, he's no madman who slaughters indiscriminately. Nearly lost Leona and scared me half to death though."
"…"
"Will the Arnak Empire inform the other Transcendents of this?"
"That is none of your concern."
"I will not tell. The fewer who know what others do not, the better. If Ignacia had seen this, she would have clapped in delight."
The Oathkeeper waved a hand once.
"Anyway, given the circumstances, I will take my leave for today. Until next we meet, Your Grace, Grand Duke Rivandale. Well… it will not be long, this matter will see us again soon enough."
"Go."
With a small laugh the light vanished.
When the Oathkeeper's consciousness fully departed, Leona came to herself.
She blinked.
Casting a furtive glance around, she offered formal respect toward the Grand Duke Rivandale.
"By my lord's order, I shall take my leave, O Sword of Arnak."
With a wave of his hand, the Grand Duke dismissed her.
For the Empire there was no reason to keep her further.
Direct conflict with the Oathkeeper would be for another time.
Thud!
Gathering her gear, Leona leapt high and departed.
Despite her heavy injuries, she showed no sign of them, moving thus—her bodily endurance was astonishing.
Before long she reached the airship belonging to the Oath-bound Knight Order in the distance. Soon it shifted space and vanished.
Only the Empire remained upon the Black Volcano.
"Quite a day it has been."
The Grand Duke lowered his gaze.
"Chieftain of the Red Volcano Clan."
"Uh, uhm?! Wh-why call me so suddenly…?"
"As you can see, Grizzwold's axe blade is broken. Can you repair it? We cannot leave an artifact in such condition."
He motioned with his chin.
Merisa converted mana into magic power, drew Grizzwold's axe, and floated it in the air.
Arkul stroked his beard at the sight of the broken edge.
"The damage to the surface is great from some unknown power… but not irreparable. I can manage. To rejoin and restore function will take a month, to return it completely three months."
"Do the latter. If materials lack, say so. The Empire will provide."
The Grand Duke suddenly lifted his head.
The surroundings were warm.
Within the cold Black Volcano and the parched yellow sky, there lay a patch of blue.
For nearly three hundred years sunlight had not reached this land, but now it shone brightly.
"And the Black Volcano, what of it? If the clans have no intention, the Empire would like to slowly investigate."
"Hm? Ah, do as you please. Dwarves will not set foot there anyway. Even if this place alone seems freed of its curse."
"My thanks."
Whoooong.
The Imperial fleet, with the Atorium at its head, lowered altitude and approached. The small airship the Grand Duke had boarded earlier was beside it.
Thus the outing of Grand Duke Rivandale came to an end.
***
Short-range spatial teleportation magic,
Even if one expands the range through Mado and applies it collectively, the limitation of distance is unavoidable.
Moreover, teleportation that includes others, without a medium like a magic circle, brings severe backlash.
Yet Verden had repeated it three times in succession, and in mere seconds had returned with Gharun's party to the dwarven village deep underground.
Tak.
Breathing roughly, Verden staggered, bracing himself against the floor with Interis.
'So this is the extent of my current ability.'
His whole body burned.
He had invoked 7th-tier magic twice with Quintuple Casting, and had wielded more spatial magic than ever before.
Even combining two Mado to create power as the basis for Superlative Magic.
He had filled the many gaps between himself and the Grand Duke Rivandale with a sheer, reckless flood of spells, so how could his body remain unscathed.
[Welcome back.]
Pat, pat, pat, pat.
At that moment, Alpha ran up.
The creature, who had been among the other dwarves, deftly climbed the robe of the Demon King and perched on Verden's nape.
[Your Majesty appears fatigued. Recommend detailed scan for diagnosis.]
Even without scanning, Verden knew well the state of his body.
"It is only fatigue, no need for that."
[In this case, Your Majesty's senses are more accurate than a mana scan. Health assessment, favorable.]
Only then did Alpha take his eyes off Verden and fix his gaze upon the staff.
[New staff, completed. Curious about its name.]
"Interis."
[Interis. Presumed ancient tongue. Confirmed as polysemous word meaning 'end' or 'beginning'. Considering Your Majesty's power and the staff's appearance. Fitting.]
So the name had come from the ancient tongue.
That much he had not known.
He had never studied the ancient language in such detail.
'In any case, it is a name I like.'
Where there is an end, there is also a beginning.
Verden asked Alpha.
"More importantly, preparations complete?"
[Of course.]
The relocation of the dwarven village had been relayed even before the making of Interis.
It had caused some commotion a few times, but the atmosphere was not negative, and as expected not a single dwarf opposed it.
The very depths of the underground were far too barren.
The dwarves, who for the first time had tasted the food of civilization, longed for lives more filling, more comfortable, and above all safer.
"One hundred ninety… one hundred ninety-three, one hundred ninety-four… two hundred and five… Marmal, is there no one behind you?"
"Yes, Chieftain! I'm the last!"
"I see. No, wait. Hold on. Let's count again. Just in case."
As chieftain, Geradin meticulously counted the dwarves several times, ensuring everyone had packed their belongings tightly.
The dwarves did not chatter noisily, each swallowed hard and kept their mouths shut.
"All tense, thinking about going to the surface for the first time. Haha… never thought such a day would come. It's all thanks to you."
Geradin offered his thanks.
To Verden, to Linus, and to his younger brother, Gharun.
"Thank you for finding us."
"Just stumbled upon it by chance… damn, I was too late."
Geradin briefly embraced Gharun, then stepped back a few paces. The eyes of the old dwarf reflected the worn village.
Two centuries of distant years flashed before his eyes. Friends who could not endure the years, neighbors, buried here, became one with this land.
Geradin, trapped underground, was living history who had witnessed the village's birth.
His eyes grew red.
Sniffling, he roughly wiped his eyes with his forearm. It was the first time Verden and Alpha had seen a dwarf cry.
"Such foolishness for my age. Let's go."
"Ah, when it comes time to leave, suddenly I'm like this. Well, so be it… hahaha! Let's go. Let's go!"
Geradin shouted with a laugh.
"All prepared!!!!!!"
The sound ripped the air.
Linus, who had nearly had his eardrums torn not long ago, had wisely stuffed cloth into his ears in advance, and so survived unscathed.
"Yes, Chieftain!!"
"We are all ready!!"
The village answered as one.
At that signal, Verden invoked the power of [Ainber].
Space opened.
With the Imperial blockade lifted, coordinate setting was possible…
'Heading straight for the central continent is the worst move.'
The Arnak Empire, or the Oathkeeper's side, might by some means revive vanished traces and pursue.
First, they would head to some quiet place in the western continent, then each time
Also replenishing supplies that were nearly exhausted along the way.
"Don't look away, follow only me. Act on your own and I'll make you regret it."
"Yes sir! Chieftain's younger brother!"
"What kind of title is that… forget it, just call me Gharun. Simpler."
Gharun took the lead.
As soon as his figure vanished, the dwarf behind him hesitated, shut his eyes tight, and hurled himself toward the surface.
At last, Linus and Geradin, who had guided until the end, also left the underground.
Alpha's single eye gleamed.
[No remaining dwarves. Verden Your Majesty has obtained Interis. Objective in volcanic region accomplished.]
"Took quite a while."
Verden began to walk.
"For now, rest."
[Set aside finest meat from supplies. Banquet ready.]
Conversing thus, Verden and Alpha passed through the
The violet radiance faded.
What remained was an empty abyss.
***
The ownerless land.
A mid-sized airship, flying through the thick cloud layer of a disputed region's skies, hidden with concealment magic items to prevent magical detection.
Crew minimized, maximum cargo capacity filled with mana stones, it was a supply vessel for charging the large airship of Count Cheolp, representative of the East.
If the representative falls, the force is eliminated from the competition.
Thus, by staying aloft like this, there was no risk of disqualification.
A strategy completely opposite of the mercenary king who took to the battlefield himself.
"No chance of dying in war, not bad."
"Lucky we pledged to Count Cheolp. Waste time like this, then later savor the captives at leisure, that's all."
The two knights guarding the mana stone carrier airship snickered as they left the deck.
Unaware of the small airship hidden above in the clouds.
"Now."
Isabella and Society's Heras, both under
Their target was a man named Trante.
One of Cheolp's mages, tasked with secret operations such as this on orders.
Even filthy work.
His detailed profile had been well learned through Society's intelligence.
Soon, they found Trante.
Ugly features stuck together.
No mistake.
After finishing a leisurely meal, Trante entered his room at the end of the hall, and Isabella and Heras swiftly moved, following right behind.
Then—
Thud!!
Isabella struck Trante in the side.
He vomited up all the food he had just eaten, collapsed, choking and sweating cold, turned his face back.
"Wh-what, suddenly, what…!!!"
Heras pressed a magic item against him.
After confirming Trante's voice was registered and completing the test, he nodded.
Crunch.
Isabella's casual kick struck Trante's jaw, twisting his neck halfway around.
A merciless instant kill.
A 3rd-tier intermediate mage, unprepared and ambushed, met a futile end.
Heras, who had once guided Verden to the Society's island, was somewhat shaken.
"…So this is a mage's pure physical power. Truly monstrous strength, my lady."
"It's my specialty."
Isabella did not despise or feel ashamed of her inhuman strength.
She was proud.
After all, whose gift was it?
Fwoosh.
Heras changed into Trante's clothing, then used a Society-owned magic item to disguise his face and alter his voice.
"With this, phase one accomplished."
Heras spoke with Trante's voice.
Infiltration, successful.
Thus the airship laden with mana stones flew on, unaware of who now lurked within, heading straight for Count Cheolp.
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