Chapter 243
“Are you Vargan?”
Bifrons asked.
Vargan surveyed the surroundings without any particular reaction. Two dead heroes lay before him. One was as thin as a mummy, while the other had been completely burned.
Both seemed to have weapons meant for close combat, suggesting they had been fighting Bifrons alongside Trisena.
Despite not responding, Bifrons was certain the male student before him was indeed Vargan and spoke without lifting the corners of his mouth.
“A human whose total mana has reached transcendence. The one who struck Zagan’s neck. The one who brought chaos to Salecius. The one who fought evenly with Blurans.”
Bifrons recited Vargan’s deeds, mentioning that his name frequently came up within the Goddess Church.
He too would have liked to meet him but had rarely found the opportunity.
“……”
Vargan finally turned his gaze to Bifrons, perhaps having finished surveying the area.
His black eyes showed no fear or hesitation even facing the Archbishop.
Bifrons found himself intrigued by that confident and arrogant demeanor.
The more one is self-assured in their own abilities, the more satisfying it is to break them.
Like a swan caught helplessly.
Screaming.
Pleading for mercy.
Seeing someone tearfully wet themselves was never boring.
After all, humans should dedicate themselves to gods like him, willingly offering their bodies.
That’s the righteous way, an unchangeable truth.
Imagining Vargan’s expression twisted in terror, Bifrons let out a sinister laugh.
At the same moment, an unusual violet mana shimmered.
‘W-Wait, this is dangerous…! That student is going to die!’
Trisena noticed the change and hastily raised her voice.
Each word felt like a torment, squeezing her lungs, but she couldn’t just sit back and allow an innocent student to die.
“Run! Bifrons will…!”
Before she could finish, Bifrons darted forward like a flash of lightning, using his ‘Second Hand’ to pierce Vargan.
Bifrons, grinning madly with insanity.
But soon realized that the sensation in his hand was not flesh and bone.
‘Black Smoke…?’
The condensed smoke erupted as though bursting forth from Vargan.
The black smoke swirled past Bifrons and gathered in front of Trisena, reconstructing Vargan’s figure.
All this happened in an instant.
‘Is this an illusion? No. It’s slightly different. If it were an illusion, I would still feel some traces of mana.’
Trisena thought, feeling an oddity from the phenomenon Vargan just displayed, convinced she would have sensed it if there was any magical resonance.
Vargan spoke to the somewhat stunned Trisena.
He spoke.
“Trisena, four more bishops will be coming here soon.”
“What…?”
His words were true.
Whether it was reinforcements or an ambush, the bishops were rushing in like bees drawn to honey, enticed by the immense mana.
Vargan issued a concise and precise ‘order.’
“Go and deal with those bishops.”
“…Huh?”
“Even though you carry the title of Hero Rank 7, I know that aside from your second Unique Spell, your attack power is utterly lacking.”
“…Uh…uh?”
“Are you still not getting it?”
Vargan exhaled a sigh, as if he found her pitiful.
This was a guy who brazenly insulted a top-ten hero. It would be better if he just threw some curses instead of this nonsense.
“I told you to get lost, because you’d just be a hindrance here.”
“………”
“Now move.”
Trisena was flabbergasted.
No matter how much mana he had, he was still a student.
She was a seasoned warrior who had roamed the battlefield for a long time, and she had achieved the rank of 7.
One of the few humans capable of facing an archbishop. Vargan was treating her lightly, knowing this full well.
“What are you talking about… Gah!”
Hearing such absurd words, Trisena accidentally cut back on her mana supply as she spat out a response.
As a result, her lungs, lacking oxygen, tightened painfully.
After calming her breath, Trisena looked up at Vargan with a face twisted in agony.
‘How can he say this so casually?’
It didn’t seem like he was just pretending to be strong.
The power of an archbishop wasn’t something you could breeze through.
‘Is the abundant mana continuously supplying him with oxygen?’
If so, that was incredible.
It wasn’t just about having vast mana; it meant he was skillful in supplying it too.
Like he had lived in an environment where he couldn’t breathe for a long time.
“……..”
Vargan, with a frightfully calm expression, turned his back and spoke.
“You don’t need to cast any buff magic on me. You’re already amplifying the strength of over 1,000 heroes. You should save some mana for fighting four bishops.”
Trisena realized that Vargan was dead serious about wanting to fight the archbishop alone.
And telling her not to cast buff magic was just ridiculous.
This was a case she had never seen in her hero life.
At that moment.
Wuh-ung, Wuh-ung—.
By chance, Trisena’s eyes caught sight of a staff. A blue gem weapon flying around Vargan made her pupils dilate.
‘This is insane… How much mana is being sucked in there…!’
It looked as if the staff was parasitizing Vargan.
If this were any ordinary person, they would have already died from mana depletion by now.
Mentally and physically, it must be incredibly tough, yet this student was holding it together as if it was nothing.
Vargan murmured softly.
“I think we won’t have time to chat anymore.”
He was indeed right.
“I’ve been disregarded. Disregarded… A mere human dares to—. A mere human must be punished. Punished… punished…”
Bifrons’ mouth twitched grotesquely as he mumbled.
Every tiny muscle in his face squirmed as if alive with insects.
His four arms were swollen with taut muscles, and the legs supporting his tall frame were no different.
The muscles, as large as a horse’s legs, revealed not just size but immense strength contained within.
“I must punish… punish… punish…”
Repeating the same words, Bifrons suddenly stopped, raised his head, and broke into a wide, split smile.
Bifrons, who had been repeating himself, suddenly stopped talking, raised his head, and grinned widely.
“Divine Punishment…!”
Kaboom—!
Out of nowhere, the ground beneath Bifrons and Vargan surged up into the sky.
Trisena couldn’t join them due to the mere distance separating them. Given that the bishops were rushing in at the same time, it would take time for a reunion.
“How dare you defy the gods. You deserve punishment.”
To avoid any interruptions, Bifrons created a small mountain.
He didn’t consider how this would affect the heroes below, including Altife, at all.
Though it didn’t reach the height of the mountain from earlier, the force generated by a single being was beyond common sense.
“Well… I guess this proves I’m caught in the Archbishop’s grand scheme.”
Air, water, fire, earth.
Bifrons, the Archbishop who governs the four elements.
His physical abilities were quite developed, and his eyes contained the universe, allowing him to perceive phenomena and opponent information as mathematical equations.
His body, which manipulated the elements, was nearly divine.
His eyes, filled with truth, pierced through illusions.
Vargan smirked at such a being and said, “But… isn’t this just flashy at this point?”
At that moment, Bifrons, who had been smiling with distorted excitement, replied.
“Don’t worry. This is just the beginning.”
Boom—!
The immense pressure compressed the atmosphere.
As if gravity had multiplied by over a hundred.
Everything in that space, except for Bifrons, was crushed under the mass of air.
The top of the sharply rising mountain flattened as if it were a chopped-off tree stump.
All the trees and creatures on top couldn’t withstand the force and burst, becoming like thin cloth.
“Ha ha ha—!”
Not satisfied with just crushing the mountain, Bifrons absorbed all the moisture around him.
The green leaves turned as dry as burnt paper, the creatures became desiccated meat, and the soil lost every drop of moisture, dying in the process.
The power of an Archbishop who activated Liberation.
It was overwhelmingly capable of simply reshaping an entire landscape.
Once Bifrons finished his task, the world that had been shaking could finally take a breather.
A stage he had prepared for his battle.
This place looked like a giant rock with its top sliced off. On the dead mound of hardened soil, Bifrons scanned around for his opponent.
‘The total mana has reached transcendence. I don’t sense his mana. Did he die crushed? Or was he drained of all his moisture?’
However, as if waiting for the right moment, black smoke began to gather.
It formed Vargan once again.
Bifrons smiled broadly and charged forward.
“Yes, yes…!”
With enough pressure to slice through metal, he thrust toward Vargan’s heart.
Boom—!
Yet again, Vargan merely exploded into black mist, and Bifrons felt no sensation of piercing flesh.
Bifrons quickly used the power of his eyes to read the emerging formulas.
All things in the world are composed of formulas, so understanding them makes it easy to predict and block attacks beforehand.
However.
‘Of course. The formulas don’t come to mind.’
Vargan’s black smoke didn’t evoke any calculations.
The absence of calculations implies there’s no substance.
In other words, it meant an illusion.
‘How strange. I never activated any Curse Magic…’
While non-substantial magic doesn’t manifest as formulas, being an Archbishop, Bifrons had excellent senses.
If the magic had been activated, he would have noticed it long ago and shattered it.
But… that guy…
Ugh—!
Puh-uugh—!
The black smoke that deflected Bifrons’ attack quickly shifted positions, creating a new form of Vargan.
When it was shattered by his second hand, it moved to the side.
When destroyed by the third punch, the black smoke gathered there again.
Each time, Bifrons fiercely pursued it, unleashing the elemental power in his four hands to the maximum.
Each strike held enough power to instantly kill if it hit correctly. The air trembled with a tingling sensation wherever his arms passed.
Along with that, he manipulated the air and the soil beneath, repeatedly tearing apart any black mist he could see.
‘This is strange… very strange. What is being created by the black smoke is definitely not an illusion but a reality.’
Bifrons thought as he continued his assault.
The body, not an illusion, clearly possessed a formula revealing it to be a real human.
In other words, what he was continually smashing was indeed Vargan.
Yet, Vargan sustained no damage.
What a peculiar situation.
Puh-uugh—!
Puh-uugh—!
Bifrons quickly recalled those who had cursed him until now.
Their characteristics.
What they feared the most.
An inevitable, fatal weakness that anyone who uses a curse must possess.
And with the many datasets he had accumulated over the long years, Bifrons grinned unpleasantly.
Snap—.
With unadorned hands, he snatched Vargan by the wrist.
‘Finally got you.’
What a curse user fears the most.
It is precisely this—making direct contact.
If their skin brushes together, no matter how powerful the curse they invoke, it can be resisted and subsequently shattered.
Whatever curse was cast, once he grabbed hold like this, it was game over.
Holding onto Vargan, Bifrons swung his arms with all his might.
His bare hands, unadorned by any elements.
Already having made skin contact, it didn’t matter whether he used elements or not, but having been so irritated, Bifrons wanted to feel the thrill of breaking flesh directly.
Kwoosh—!
The sound of flesh exploding, providing a delightful harmony for Bifrons.
The pleasure of shattering hard bones while soaked in thick blood, and the sensation of bursting soft organs was particularly fantastic.
‘Nothing beats smashing with bare hands.’
Bifrons focused on the scene before him.
The upper body of Vargan exploded.
A frail human body that couldn’t withstand the Archbishop’s might.
The remaining lower half flopped down, splattering blood.
Bifrons surveyed the area with his special eyes just in case, but nothing unusual happened.
He had set the stage, but the fun was over too soon.
‘Disappointing. Well, how can a mere creature withstand the power of a god?’
Bifrons turned his body.
A few steps forward, he was planning to look down at his next prey.
‘The hero from earlier held up quite well… The bishop shouldn’t be at the brink of death, so if I go now, he should still be lively…’
—Crick, clack.
Bifrons heard a strange noise.
It sounded like the creaking of bones dislocating.
Bifrons hurriedly turned around.
Then he witnessed an unbelievable sight that was hard to believe could belong to a human.
The lower half, which had been collapsed, was somehow standing up again.
A spine, caked in blood, extended upwards, standing erect.
Clatter, clack.
Like the thin branches of a tree sprouting, bones were growing.
Between those, red flesh began to adhere, restoring the shattered body of Vargan.
