Chapter 519 - Hall of Usurpation (1)
The Kingdom of Ailan.
In terms of scale, it was classified as a small nation, yet that did not mean it had a short history or was impoverished.
In particular, the capital of the Kingdom of Ailan, Illaron, was one of the landmarks of the western continent.
A towering fortress, built after a solitary mountain at the center of the vast mountain range had been gradually shaved down and carved again and again.
Countless buildings and sturdy walls wrapped around it in a circle.
Looking at Illaron from afar, no one could deny the opinion of a painter who once said the sight was a gift of nature.
Moreover, apart from its aesthetic charm, the city's structure and natural terrain were highly advantageous for defense.
A defensive war waged with high ground.
Though the Kingdom of Ailan had suffered numerous invasions during its century-long history, it had never once fallen.
For that reason, surrounding nations called it an impregnable city, and it deserved a place in the chronicles of history.
This was an age regarded as the most peaceful, and the most advanced in magic.
No one doubted that the fortress of Illaron would remain steadfast in the future.
And then, it met its end.
Hwaaaaaak—
In the midst of the ruins, a vivid violet light flickered. The spatial waves pulsed with a rhythm like a heartbeat.
Verden stepped leisurely through the
'Dahit isn't here yet.'
There was no sign of a Transcendent nearby, so it seemed Verden had arrived first.
He looked around calmly.
Structures left to decay for so long that their outlines had faded away, collapsed into heaps.
Grass sprouting from the cracks in the split stone walls had met the winter cold beyond autumn, and fallen, withered, and dead.
This city, which once must have flourished, had become a worthless ruin.
As the first snow of the year began to fall upon the Capital of Ruin, the visual desolation doubled.
'Bleak.'
He moved toward the center of what had once been called Illaron. The mountain citadel that should have stood there was nowhere to be found.
In its place lay a crater, not very deep but vast in breadth.
Unlike the surroundings, not a single blade of grass grew within the pit. This was the lingering effect of Dahit's Mado of Deathflame.
Even after decades, the power of annihilation remained.
'The dead, at least several thousand.'
Judging the range calmly, the number was likely far higher.
A massacre.
If a Transcendent willed it, the fate of a small kingdom could be decided in an instant, with countless casualties left behind.
"..."
Having finished his brief survey, Verden stood silently amid the ruins, staff in hand.
The weather deepened.
When he held out his palm without a word, countless snowflakes drifted down softly. Soon, the melted crystals slid down his skin as droplets of water.
At that moment—
Kugugugugugugugu…!
A violent tremor shook the air. The vibrations grew stronger. It was not an earthquake from below.
The source was the sky.
A part of the cloud cover, which had been pouring snow, burst apart and vanished.
And through the rift high above, a pitch-black meteor slanted downward.
The closer it drew, the greater the upheaval it caused over the Capital of Ruin.
Kwoong!
Buildings, already more than half destroyed, finally lost balance and crumbled to dust.
Soon after, the meteor passed over the Capital of Ruin and crashed somewhere beyond the mountains.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaang!
The impact, like a great natural disaster, shook the earth. A section of the mountains that blocked the view split deeply.
With it spread black flames, their sparks sweeping hundreds of meters, and in an instant, the fire devoured the nearby forest as fuel.
From within that raging conflagration of annihilation, someone emerged.
"I thought you'd be late again. Unexpectedly, you're early."
The pinnacle of the Black Hour.
Amwol, Dahit Wethroel, had arrived.
Verden replied.
"You're the one who's late."
"How arrogant."
Snow fell over the Capital of Ruin as the two Transcendents faced one another.
***
"Hm, quite worn down here as well."
After his grand entrance, Dahit cast a sidelong glance.
Illaron, which had lost all its functions as a city and become uninhabited, had been the mark he left behind, yet this was his first time returning.
Comparing the vivid memories of that day with the present ruin before his eyes, Dahit gazed down at the Capital of Ruin with merciless eyes.
Verden asked.
"And how does vengeance taste?"
"…? What do you mean?"
"They say the Kingdom of Ailan was your homeland. And it was also the nation that executed your family after their fall during the strife. Wasn't it vengeance that led you to destroy its capital, Illaron?"
"Ah, that revenge."
Dahit laughed, as though it was laughable.
"Yes, certainly, back when I hadn't yet pioneered the Mado, that was the case. I sought out the culprits to repay the debt of my family's slaughter. But in the end, the reason I annihilated the Kingdom of Ailan was not for such petty emotions."
He strolled slowly through the rubble-strewn streets of Illaron.
"For most beings, memories are volatile, things that do not pass down intact. They are distorted, romanticized, forgotten as if it were natural. Of course, there are exceptions, but in the end, death ushers all things into oblivion."
Dahit laid his hand upon a skeletal remnant of a building. The rotted timber shrieked as it crumbled.
When he rubbed the fragments between his fingers, they disintegrated into dust.
"To ordinary humans, nobles seem such great beings. The oppressed tremble or bow their heads. But that holds only while they live."
His words carried the weight of experience.
"No matter how great, no matter how kind, once they vanish from sight, they fade from the minds of men. Because humans are selfish creatures who forget what does not concern them. In that sense, look at this."
Dahit spread both arms.
Hands clad in black gloves pointed toward the Capital of Ruin.
"Even after decades, this place has not been forgotten. On the contrary, it spread as rumor and became known across the world. It carved a stroke in the history of magic, and for a moment, it made the continent tremble."
"..."
"Memories as impressive as this become significant records, and those significant records are passed on to someone else, continuing and continuing again. Well, though an incident like this won't be passed down over long generations like the doctrines of the Luas Church."
"So, it was your obsession with memory that led you to destroy the city."
Dahit added.
"And I added efficiency to it."
***
The date Black Hour chose to execute its assault on the Kingdom of Ailan, was precisely the day the kingdom's nobles gathered in the capital to audience with the king and deliberate state affairs.
Naturally, the stiff-necked nobles brought their families' strongest as escorts, to flaunt their power.
A noble was still a noble, even in a small kingdom.
This was Dahit's aim.
The tide of Deathflame, summoned from the sky, swept over Ailan's mountain citadel in an instant, and soon after, erased the fortress and the mountain itself from the continent.
Walls, magic circles, nothing could withstand it, all annihilated.
Naturally, no one within the range survived.
No relics, no last words were left behind.
Nobles with titles, their escorts, the royal lineage of Ailan, and the knightly order sworn to protect the throne all vanished without even ashes left.
Whether they had even realized their own deaths, no one could ever know.
In any case.
Thanks to it, Dahit Wethroel announced himself to the continent as a Transcendent.
Moreover, the former reputation of Black Hour was erased, and it was redefined as a new Black Hour, a cabal of death's magi…
What could be more efficient than that?
For the price of destroying a single capital, the value of the gains was immeasurable.
Had he sought to achieve the same goals by ordinary means, it might not have taken a day, but long years.
Verden spoke.
"Even so, it's remarkable you weren't sanctioned by the other Transcendents."
"The rules among Transcendents are strict, but weighty. That is why they rarely move. Especially not for a mere small kingdom. All the more so if the matter is tied to personal grievances between Transcendents."
Had Dahit waged indiscriminate terror, it would be another matter, but the fall of the Kingdom of Ailan did not count as a breach of regulation.
After all, the grudge of a family's extermination was certain.
And Dahit had only annihilated the fortress of Illaron, not directly inflicted harm upon other districts or the common citizens.
In fact, the citizens of Illaron survived.
Thus they could testify, openly, as to what had happened.
Yet even if the people lived, the nation itself could not endure, for the sovereigns of the realm, from kingdom to fief, were gone.
As a result, the "World Assembly" decreed, that the Kingdom of Ailan's territory, except for the Capital of Ruin, would be divided among neighboring nations.
Thus, though there existed rules for Transcendents alone, meddling in a Transcendent's actions was most avoided.
For it could easily become irreparable.
Above all, the rules of Transcendents, were born to prevent a recurrence of the Transcendent Wars.
That was why, during the Mana Reactor Rampage incident───known to the world as the war between Bohemirn Tower, the victim, and Black Hour, the perpetrator───no other Transcendent intervened.
"By the way."
Dahit fixed his eyes on Verden.
"Will you keep hiding your identity? Surely you don't intend to be remembered as a nameless Transcendent."
"I have no thought of being remembered by you. But apart from that… having come this far, there's no reason to hide my face."
Without hesitation, Verden lifted the
Ash-gray hair, and blue eyes.
At last, the distinctive, unforgettable features were revealed.
"You…"
Dahit's eyes widened slowly.
That face, he had seen clearly in Horace's memory.
Verden.
The trash of First Rank, lowest of the hierarchy, and a thief of theses, the weakest of Bohemirn Tower.
'And yet those outward features… it can be none other than him.'
Recently, the continent knew the name widely, of Asher, the Holy Star of the Eastern Continent, and Verden's features matched him strikingly, no, not merely strikingly—identical.
Dahit gave a hollow laugh.
"Absurd. Not only deceiving the world's eyes to conceal that you're a Transcendent, but Verden and this Asher being the same person?"
"So you saw me in Horace's memories. Hardly a fond recollection."
"This… no, yes, I suppose."
He muttered, half to himself, in fragments too sparse to interpret, then curled his lips in a twisted grin, lowering his voice.
"Verden, or Asher. What shall I call you?"
"Call me the former."
"Verden, you are extraordinary. Far more than I expected. Or perhaps, you made yourself extraordinary. Whether intended or not. Surely, in reconstructing your body, you removed the mana circuits that restricted your rank."
Dahit's expression hardened.
"Your corpse will be mine."
"I refuse."
At once, he activated the mana circuits throughout his body.
The currents shifted.
As the might of two Transcendents clashed, the world quaked, trembling as though in terror, the ground shuddering, the air twisting.
There would be no prelude.
This was their second magic battle.
But unlike last time───this time, one of them must die.
Their unique spells collided at the center.
With a single exchange, a tenth of the ruined city was blown away as the two Transcendents moved.
They had stepped into the Hall of Usurpation.