Chapter 266
An institution to nurture heroes who will fight against Altife under the protection of the one true God, Yggdrasil.
Academia and Rikeion.
Among them, the aerial city of Academia is famous for having a particularly vast and magnificent church building within its city.
Students, professors, and staff members gather at this church every Sabbath to hold services.
While participation is voluntary,
it would be an understatement to say that virtually all students offer prayers.
The entire personnel of Academia, inside a spacious worship hall that could accommodate thousands.
In the facility where they conduct services and teach doctrine and faith.
The stained glass adorned with the Yggdrasil insignia reflects moonlight, illuminating the interior.
The moonlight filtering through the stained glass looks sacred as if it contains the glory of Yggdrasil.
Natural light streaming in from outside. The highly designed ambiance is beautifully enhanced by the subtle energy of the night.
The outer walls and pillars are a singular masterpiece, completed over centuries by the fingertips of the devout.
Even the most ignorant person would recite praises to God if they found themselves in this glorious place.
“…Cough.”
Seated alone at the front of the sacred space, a white-haired old man.
The chancellor of Academia coughed softly.
The breath coming out, like rusty pipes needing to be replaced, emitted sounds filled with foreign substances each time he inhaled and exhaled.
—Boom! Bang!!
Explosive sounds echoed outside the holy war as if artillery were falling.
Structures crumbled, and the laughter of devils shook the world in chaos.
A reaper clad in the skin of a monster came to retrieve the wrinkled elder.
“Cough. Cough! Hrrrmm….”
The old man’s weathered ears heard that sound.
Even his heart, dulled by age, sensed a visitor approaching.
However, the sage’s eyes, quietly hidden beneath eyebrows piled like snow, focused only on the spell he was crafting with his own blood.
Zzzt —.
His fingers stained with blood.
His bony fingers, like skeletal twigs, moved through the air.
One stroke.
Another stroke.
He painstakingly wrote down the final unique spell he had completed with utmost devotion.
His spell, at the peak of human and magician prowess.
The essence capturing emotion, reason, and enlightenment.
As he drew the last line of the spell, the old man felt regret but not sorrow.
The old man felt sorrow but did not mourn.
He apologized but did not seek forgiveness.
“…….”
Thus, the Unique Spell was completed with the dark red blood.
The pattern was soon etched onto the old man’s narrow back, and it would have been engraved onto a woman below as well.
“Hoho… I’m sorry, Paula…”
The old man activated the spell knowing his only granddaughter would understand the burden, weight, and sorrow it entailed.
The meaning behind the spell was the transfer of power.
It was inspired by how the Twelve Divine Beasts passed on their sacred abilities alongside their names to their descendants.
A final masterpiece that would not appear again in this generation, and likely not in future generations either.
At the same time, it was a harbinger of the old man’s imminent death.
—Kugagagah!!
Now that the spell had been activated.
Paula must have understood the situation.
His heart ached thinking of his weeping granddaughter, but he activated the spell before it was too late.
Before his worn-out mind forgot everything.
It had to be done now.
—Thud! Kwaaaang!
A white smoke-like essence rose from the old man’s body.
Like the scent of incense being burned but not charred.
The sage’s realization began to flow with the wind.
“…I can never express enough gratitude to that student.”
The old man looked up and saw the pictures of the heroes guarding the sacred Yggdrasil.
As he gazed at the images of the heroes, he recalled the memory of when he visited the Chancellor’s office.
A mystical child with two souls.
Vargan appeared to have foreseen the future.
He relayed the old man’s death and the tragedy that would befall the Academia as a result.
A prophecy from Vargan that differed from now.
However, the words he spoke at that time seemed to hold true, with no additions or omissions.
The Chancellor’s death left no lasting meaning or outcome.
Extending his life stubbornly while watching the church and the surrounding insights.
Struggling to ignite the crucial Unique Spell of transfer.
A foolish old man who departed after answering the call of the heavens.
In the end, he brought only great danger to the Academia and humanity, unable to provide any aid, let alone serve as fertilizer.
Now, it was merely a tale of assumptions that might not have happened at all.
Yet, the old man, aware that his death was imminent, could not afford to dismiss it.
Each detail pierced his heart like sharp needles.
『Kahahahaha—!』
As the explosive sound faded.
A devil’s ominous laughter passed through the chilly chapel’s floor and walls.
The old man stroked his long beard, letting out a laugh as if a hole had been pierced through his lungs.
He rose from his seat.
He stood facing the approaching devil, taking slow steps forward.
From a place where the moonlight did not reach, someone came step by step from the shadowed dark.
The old man faced the presence while concluding his unfinished flashback.
—O great Magician. O hero of humanity. Please save this pitiful world. Let glory rise so that the name of the hero may not be desired until the very end.
Only your noble ‘death’ can be the torch of this place, which will become a lair for demons.
Baragan conveyed the words along with his scheme.
“Thank you… Baragan student…”
Gulemashia murmured softly.
For giving this old man an opportunity.
For helping me avoid a foolish choice.
I am truly grateful and sorry.
Thanks to you, this old body seems able to spend the remainder of my life without regrets.
“Kahahahaha! Belled actually spoke the right words for once! They said the barrier would disappear, and lo and behold, it really did!”
An old man with white hair.
Gulemashia gazed at the Altife before him.
Having emerged from the shadows, his body was entirely a shade of black, casting doubt on whether he even possessed wrinkles or skin.
The only colors that existed within him were his fiery red eyes and the teeth that became visible every time he smiled.
There were no pupils, and even the differentiation of the eyeball was nonexistent.
His physique was that of an ordinary adult male, yet the overwhelming sense of intimidation and crisis radiating from him was enough to make all living beings tremble uncontrollably.
With every step he took, trails of black smoke emanated from his body.
Any object that came into contact with that smoke melted away at a noticeably rapid pace.
The eyes of the Cardinal, filled with the malice and poison of hellfire.
A monster infamous in the world as “the eater of memories.”
Cardinal Gamigin pierced through the defenses of the Academia to enter this sacred place.
“It seems you’ve completely aged while I wasn’t looking, Gulemashia! The fleeting and short nature of human life is glaringly obvious!”
Gamigin pointed at Gulemashia’s withered body.
The proud eyes that once faced foes had become as shriveled as a pumpkin.
His once straight back now bent like a bow.
“I hope your magic hasn’t aged like that body of yours! Otherwise, there’d be no reason for me to have come all this way!”
A war fanatic.
A combat enthusiast.
Considering the long lifespan of a Cardinal, saying merely “100 years” seems fitting.
Yet, it’s hard to believe that Altife Gamigin had been silently gathering strength during that time.
Long ago, in Gulemashia’s youthful days, he single-handedly took down not just every member of his team but all the heroes of the entire army.
The one person who Gamigin had failed to kill, Gulemashia remained an indelible stimulus even for the timeless Gamigin.
“Hohoho… Leaves fall as autumn approaches, and as time passes, even trees die. How could this old man remain just as I was when I last met you?”
Gulemashia faced the darkness.
The darkness was Gamigin, and the distance between them was the time that had flowed by.
Gohhh—.
Slowly, Gulemashia’s mana began to spread out.
Like a leisurely ripple emanating from him. But it moved intensely.
Feeling that energy, Gamigin smiled broadly, fully revealing his crimson teeth.
There were so many teeth that he had twice as many as an average person.
“I’m glad you didn’t disappoint me, Gulemashia.”
Baragan, capable of doubling his output using the scent of life.
Far more vast and intense magical power than that.
It wasn’t just a difference in learning or depth.
In comparison to today’s amplitude, the visible height difference between the two was practically nonexistent.
That was.
A spell drawn from the abilities of the Twelve Divine Beasts.
A spell taken from his ability.
The phenomenon caused by the last unique spell of the legendary magician, Chancellor Gulemashia.
When the Twelve Divine Beasts inherit names and powers.
The moment when the power of the parent Twelve Divine Beasts increases exponentially for five days to protect their child.
Cardinal Gamigin, who was directly witnessing and feeling that power in front of his eyes, moved his lips as if stained with blood.
“It’s beyond its prime… how amusing.”
How fun it has become.
Swish—!
Black smoke erupted from Gamigin’s body, clearly showcasing his excitement.
This contrasted with Gulemashia, who was exuding white smoke.
The energies of the two beings filled the sacred church, seemingly on the verge of triggering a chemical reaction.
“I, an old body unable to evade time, have already prepared for death. An old tree gets cut down to serve as firewood.”
Gulemashia’s mana swirled.
His mana, boasting a weight as if it became the center of the world, distorted the church’s form and caused all objects inside to float in the air.
Several items, which hadn’t existed a moment ago, now appeared.
Only Gulemashia knew what they were made of and where they came from.
The great magician began to float slowly, just like those objects.
The intensely thick mana contained danger rivaling the black smoke emanating from the Cardinal’s body.
For the next half a day, this space belonged to him.
“Firewood ignites in the spark and turns to ash. That ash becomes fertilizer buried in the ground.”
Thus, new life is born.
In the end, it’s a cycle for stones too.
This moment will also be part of the future.
And that future, when seen from a distance, is merely a small part.
So know this.
The flames rising now are not a miserable end.
Nor is it a noble death.
It’s just a process for the correct cycle.
Just a result.
“So this old firewood is going to ignite this little spark.”
Gulemashia’s words sounded heavy.
Cardinal Gamigin scoffed at his words that could never be overlooked and charged forward.
“Hahaha—! A dying magician is putting on a show before heading to the grave!”
Gamigin seemed to vanish.
His speed was so fast that sound and wind could not keep up with him.
Except for the great magician Gulemashia.
Bang—!
The surrounding space distorted as a massive cube shot out at high speed.
It crushed the erupting Cardinal Gamigin from both sides. That object, seemingly made of steel, was only a fraction of Gulemashia’s vast knowledge, akin to a sandy beach.
“Gamigin. This place is not my grave, but ‘our’ grave.”
Inside the church, where gravity seemed to diminish.
The magician, who made all Altife tremble in fear, said so.
Then, as if understanding his words, the Academia once again donned solid armor.
Absolutely forbidding any entry from the outside.
And from within.
