Chapter 1129: Lingering Scent (17)
“Actually, according to the plan, I wasn’t going to make a move until the concert…”
A casino hotel located in the heart of Torquepaz.
The Clown, bathing in blood amidst countless piles of corpses inside the burning lobby.
In the center of the grotesque, unbelievable carnage, the Clown spoke with a languid expression.
“Well, these folks, they’re suddenly trafficking humans right in the middle of a casino hotel, aren’t they?”
“…Human trafficking?”
“You know, buying rare slaves or prisoners. They were quite serious about it.”
Leaning back in the bathtub, the Clown grinned.
“With something this amusing happening, how could I possibly miss out? I rushed over to see what ‘goods’ they were selling, and lo and behold—”
Splat!!
The Clown picked up a head rolling on the floor, held it by the jaw, and presented it clearly.
“Ta-da! It turns out the Mayor of Torquepaz was involved. Surprising, isn’t it?”
“…”
The severed face of a middle-aged man, contorted in pain.
A face Lennok had seen on a passing news report while touring Torquepaz.
The only difference was the grotesque, incomprehensible mask fused onto his face.
Only then did Lennok realize that everyone dead in the hotel was involved in human trafficking.
The casino hotel itself was an auction house for trading humans, and the Mayor of Torquepaz was entangled in it.
“After toying with them a bit and torturing them, it seems they gathered to conclude their deals before the ‘merchandise’ arrived.”
With a hand dangling out of the bathtub, the Clown slowly spoke, toying with a dagger.
“It seems they intended to use war prisoners from the Central Front as ‘materials,’ and the Mayor was apparently leading that trade.”
“So, you killed everyone gathered here?”
“Ah, that was more the result of an advisory I sought for this job than my own doing, but…”
The Clown, openly trailing off his sentence, chuckled and waved his hand.
“Anyway, I got a good workout in for the first time in a while. Victor, you’ve been well, haven’t you?”
“…”
The Clown, casually greeting him while lying in a bathtub full of blood.
But instead of returning the greeting, Lennok scrutinized the Clown’s appearance.
Crrrack…!!
Just a slight movement caused his skin to crack, and blood to stream out.
His skin and muscles ripped as if slashed by a knife, and fresh blood seeped out, staining the bathtub.
He looked limp and utterly spent, barely able to move, let alone breathe.
“I see.”
Lennok met the Clown’s cheerful gaze and nodded.
“This operation was a failure from the start, then. I’ve wasted my time.”
“Huh?”
“I’m leaving.”
“Wait, waaait!”
The chuckling Clown, flustered, waved his hands frantically.
Only after seeing the blood pooling at his feet did Lennok stop.
The Clown, now splayed out in the bathtub, finally let out a sigh of relief and spoke.
“Now, why be so cold between us? Jokes like that make my fragile heart flutter and then tear to shreds.”
“So, you intended to participate in this operation in that state?”
Lennok’s gaze was cold as he looked down at the Clown.
“You look like you can barely breathe, let alone move. That bathtub must be for maintaining the proper volume of blood in your body.”
“Hoho, you noticed?”
The Clown pointed at the bathtub with a look of pride, as if showing off a treasured possession.
“This is the Bathtub of Fresh Blood, a magical artifact from the Ilcantara Demon Worship Cult. Within it, no matter how much blood one loses, it keeps the person immersed ‘alive.’”
“…”
“Of course, it was originally a ritual tool used for human sacrifice, purification rites, or activating forbidden spells, but surprisingly, it also holds considerable medical value.”
“…”
“Though crude in form, the ability to keep a user alive regardless of blood loss is incredibly rare. You recognize it immediately, as expected.”
The Clown was an illusionist who had reached a transcendent rank, and an excellent researcher comparable to The Doctor.
Although his fields were heavily biased towards forbidden magic and bioengineering, his inherent thirst for knowledge was considerable.
As such, it wasn’t strange for the Clown to treasure or boast about that grotesque bathtub.
Ignoring Lennok’s cold gaze, the Clown spoke proudly.
“A few years ago, the lengths I went to rummage through the brains of demon worshipers to acquire this… ahem, it’s not a great boast, but.”
“I have little interest in your pathetic boasts.”
Lennok narrowed his eyes at the openly bragging Clown and asked.
“What did you do to get so injured? Killing the humans gathered here shouldn’t have required such great effort.”
By all accounts, the Clown must have been the one who killed the human trafficking operatives at the casino hotel.
However, there was no way the Clown would have struggled to kill the people gathered here.
If he suffered injuries that ‘split’ his entire body just by moving, as he was now, then he must have been injured elsewhere to begin with.
“Well, there was a problem.”
Splat!!
As the Clown leaned his arm on the bathtub, his shoulder muscles and forearm flesh split open.
Bleeding profusely, the Clown leaned back with his half-naked body and calmly spoke.
“I overexerted myself while checking on The Gate in Kabahim’s royal capital. The security there was ridiculously strict, you see?”
“…”
“The blessing spread throughout the entire royal capital was far more powerful than I expected, and I ended up expending a considerable amount of spellcraft.”
“…The blessing of Kabahim’s royal capital gave you trouble?”
The Clown was an illusionist so skilled that even Lennok couldn’t lower his guard.
The illusion magic he used, by toying with his rank, was quite literally power akin to reality manipulation.
What’s more, the Clown’s own combat prowess and judgment had reached a different realm of mastery compared to Lennok’s.
In terms of uniqueness and unusual talent, he was undoubtedly one of the top monsters in Pandemonium.
For such a monster to suffer damage to his spellcraft just from visiting Kabahim’s royal capital…
“To be precise, it’s the process of, ahem! adjusting, luck.”
Blood streamed from the Clown’s mouth as he coughed, spitting it up.
Laughing softly as he wiped away the blood, the Clown said.
“If you draw upon luck that you’d never experience in a lifetime, shouldn’t you also experience misfortune that you’d never encounter in a lifetime?”
“…”
“In a way, it’s fair, isn’t it? So—cough—I was planning to undergo an adjustment separately in this city, but…”
“So, things got complicated in Kabahim, and your calculations went awry.”
Illusion magic, among the trait-type spellcrafts, is a power directly and indirectly linked to reality manipulation.
Therefore, to deceive reality, an illusionist eventually deceives themselves.
As they increasingly lose the ability to distinguish between illusion and reality, high-ranking illusionists inevitably go mad.
The Clown deliberately kept his rank lowered, resolving the backlash by raising it only when necessary.
Perhaps that very method was proof that the Clown was madder than anyone, but he had successfully managed his madness.
He manipulated reality using gambling-heavy Geas reliant on luck, yet precisely because of that, he couldn’t avoid paying the price.
‘So, as the bond of rank breaks, his physical body also suffers the backlash.’
There must be a reason why the backlash from drawing upon luck manifested as his entire body ‘splitting open.’
Even the grotesque white makeup on his face might have been a precaution against such phenomena.
Having considered that far, Lennok stood up.
“How much time do you need to recover?”
“Hoho, don’t worry.”
The Clown said that and spread his hand inside the bathtub.
“Even if you didn’t say it, I have a method in mind.”
“…Dice?”
In the Clown’s blood-stained hand, several six-sided dice were clutched.
Lennok, frowning, immediately recalled the purpose of the dice.
The medium for luck manipulation that the Clown used to raise his rank at the Well of the Codex.
The Clown’s unique artifact for manipulating rank through results from [1] to [6].
“While I was dealing with these fellows here, I coincidentally made some new ones. Let’s test them right away.”
The Clown said that and flicked the dice.
“I don’t even need that much luck. Around a Level 4 is enough to recover my body, you know? Please!”
Clatter-roll…!!
The four dice bounced and rolled across the floor outside the bathtub, then came to a sudden halt.
[1] [3] [1] [1]
“Ugh.”
A situation where three [1]s appeared after throwing four dice.
There was no need to ask if it was a win or a loss.
Pshhht!!
The Clown’s crown slightly split open, and blood spurted above his head.
“Aieeegh!!”
“…”
Lennok looked at the flailing, screaming Clown with a look of contempt.
“Am I to assume this operation ends here, then?”
“No, don’t just stand there watching, could you give me a hand?!”
The Clown’s disgraceful struggle on the bathtub, trying to cover his split crown with his hand.
At that moment, a massive shadow fell over the Clown’s head.
Simultaneously, a dull voice and a sharp female voice echoed.
“Got her. Just drop her here, right?”
“Ah, yes. Over there would be good.”
Agneta, the Manipulation Spellcaster who had guided Lennok to the casino hotel and then disappeared, had returned.
Perched on the back of a giant spider hanging upside down from the burning lobby’s ceiling, a red-haired woman was looking down at them.
At that familiar face, which had turned from sullen to outright venomous, Lennok glanced up.
“Freya.”
The star of a world tour circulating across the continent.
The world-famous diva, and Pandemonium’s Musical Scale Spellcaster, Freya Callins.
Had she spirited away Freya, who was staying at the Alcantara Casino Hotel, and returned here?
Thump!!
“Ah, damn it.”
The giant spider gently landed in the middle of the lobby, and Freya dismounted.
Looking around the fiercely burning lobby with an annoyed expression, she spoke.
“I should have known when that damn Mayor recommended a different hotel than where I usually stay.”
“…”
“Thanks to him, I almost got dragged into this too. I’ve been to Torquepaz how many times, why are they pulling this shit now?”
Freya scratched her head irritably and glanced around.
“Who even traffics humans in a hotel like this in this day and age? So behind the times… Oh.”
Spotting Lennok next to Agneta, who was stitching up the Clown’s crown, her eyes lit up.
She strode forward and looked up at Lennok, smiling sardonically.
“Hey, Victor. Long time no see, huh?”
“…”
“I heard the news last time. Something about stealing some bizarre weapon and screwing over the others.”
So, Freya also heard about what happened at Anathema’s Temple?
It seems the struggle over the ownership of the Forbidden Armament had generated a lot of buzz even within Pandemonium.
While Lennok ignored her words, Freya’s gaze darted around, looking at her surroundings.
“Show it to me too. If that irritating prince coveted it, it must be no ordinary treasure.”
“Why should I?”
“Even if I look like this, I’ve received enough valuables and artifacts to be sick of them.”
Freya, feigning elegance, brushed back her hair.
“I’d know immediately how valuable an item it is just by looking. Much more accurately than that idiot bathing in his own blood, I bet.”
“…”
For a diva famous across the continent to say that, it felt incredibly persuasive.
But Lennok, without showing his thoughts, crossed his arms.
“It’s not something to be taken out in a place like this. There will be another opportunity, if not now.”
“What? How boring.”
Freya grumbled that and sharply turned towards the Clown.
“Hey, Clown. So what are you going to do?”
She kicked the Clown’s bathtub and said indifferently.
“You killed the Mayor of Torquepaz. Is it still okay to proceed with the plan as is?”
“All preparations have already been made.”
The Clown, lying in the bathtub, replied languidly.
“The consultation results say the concert will proceed as normal. I should also be able to move before the performance begins.”
“I heard that once the concert starts, we’re supposed to cause a disturbance here.”
Lennok said, rubbing his hands lightly.
“However, I haven’t heard why we need to commit an act of terror to go to Kabahim. Explain the reason.”
“Ah, that’s not difficult to answer.”
The Clown wiggled his fingers.
“Victor, I’m sure you felt it last time, but Kabahim is a country that very, very strictly limits the entry of foreigners.”
“…”
“Not only is the entire country closed off and exclusive, but an ancient blessing for its knights is constantly maintained.”
Lennok remembered when the Clown was referring to.
It was back when he infiltrated the fortress of Gillian, known as the Grand Duke of Kabahim, to find the Guide’s Ring.
Didn’t he achieve his objective back then, only to be discovered by the Grand Duke himself, leading to a fight and an escape?
Recalling that memory, Lennok also had no argument with the fact that Kabahim’s security was strict.
“If we move normally, following the concert schedule, the royal capital’s entire security system will be in place. Even if we manage to enter the capital, it will be very difficult to carry out any schemes.”
“So, to break through the royal capital’s security system, we need to move faster than the original schedule?”
“If there’s a major act of terror severe enough to turn Torquepaz upside down, it would be natural for Freya to move to the next concert venue in advance.”
The Clown met Lennok’s gaze and smiled.
“And in that process, isn’t it only natural that a gap would appear in the security of Kabahim’s royal capital?”
“…”
“All that’s left is to completely turn this city upside down and escape. There’s about a day left until the concert starts, right?”
Staring intently at Lennok’s mask, the Clown grinned.
“For a trait-type Manipulation Spellcaster, that should be enough time to complete preparations, don’t you think?”
Lennok understood why the Clown intended to entrust him with these preparations.
Because only a disturbance massive enough to completely overturn this great entertainment city would provide Freya with a legitimate reason to stop her concert and evacuate.
Everything was to accelerate the original schedule and arrive at the royal capital faster than Kabahim’s planned timeline.
“If merely causing a disturbance is the goal, then no special preparations are needed.”
Lennok, crossing his arms, tilted his head and spoke.
“If it’s just about destroying Torquepaz, I could start right now.”
“Ooh?”
“But if your explanation is correct, then there shouldn’t be any casualties in this operation. If civilians die during the concert, we’ll be unnecessarily tied down in the city.”
Lennok looked at the Clown, his eyes gleaming within his mask.
“It would be appropriate to commit an act of terror, but make the attempt itself appear to have failed.”
If a large number of casualties resulted from the terror attack, it would become impossible to leave Torquepaz.
In the worst-case scenario, martial law could be declared, sealing off the entire city and blocking all passage.
Most importantly, Lennok had no intention of killing thousands of innocent people for Pandemonium’s operation.
“Well, I was planning to seek advice on that part, but… if Victor wishes, do as you please.”
The Clown propped his chin in his hand and grinned.
“In a situation like this, who could be more trustworthy than another trait-type spellcaster to overturn the board?”
“That’s enough nonsense.”
Lennok said that and turned his gaze.
“Is everyone gathered now? There should be more confirmed members before the operation begins.”
The assault on The Gate beneath Kabahim’s royal capital was an operation devised by the Clown and The Fisherman.
But the one called The Fisherman wasn’t even visible anywhere nearby.
He knew it was an operation conducted by a small elite team, but assaulting Kabahim’s royal capital with just this many people—
“Ah, Victor, there’s one face you’ll be seeing for the first time this round.”
“Someone newly recruited into Pandemonium, I suppose.”
“No, rather than a newcomer… perhaps I should say someone with experience?”
“…With experience?”
“Well, it’s a bit troublesome to explain myself, and…”
The Clown smiled languidly and slowly leaned his head back.
“By now, they’ve probably been contacted. They should be returning soon.”
“Returning, what do you mean—”
CRASH!!!
At that moment, the lobby hall’s glass window, where Lennok stood, shattered, and something fell through.
Two shadows of differing builds, colliding in mid-air and rapidly plummeting.
Between the intersecting shadows, sharp intent and coldness intertwined and scattered simultaneously.
Kagagagak!!!
Lennok knew what kind of organization Pandemonium was, but were its members fighting among themselves, even with only a day left until the concert?
The moment Lennok turned his gaze in annoyance and brought up his mana.
CRUNCH!!
The forms of two people, after a fierce collision in mid-air, landed inside the burning hotel.
A cold-faced young man, Soryu, half his body turned to ice, scattering frigid breaths as he slid across the floor.
A direct descendant of Kabahim’s royal family, and an Awakened Ability User who wields ice-type superhuman abilities, a bloodline power.
Given the nature of this operation, Soryu, being of royal lineage, participating was, in a way, natural.
But the moment Lennok saw the face of the opponent confronting Soryu, he forgot all such thoughts.
“…Wait.”
Thump!!
A tall figure emerged from amidst the raging flames. Dressed in a ceremonial suit.
A young man with a thick fur coat draped over his shoulders and black hair swept back.
And a calm, serene face, familiar to Lennok.
Exactly as Lennok remembered, a face he had never once imagined he would encounter outside of Vulcan—
“As you know, this operation is targeting dangerous and tricky objectives in many ways, isn’t it?”
At that moment, the Clown opened his mouth with a meaningful smile.
“We were unavoidably forced to include an ability user in the operation whom Pandemonium couldn’t acquire. Victor, this will be a new face for you.”
“…”
“Allow me to introduce you. The Seer who has newly joined us as an advisor for the assault on Kabahim’s royal capital—”
The Clown, leaning in the bathtub, said with a smile.
“His name is Antares.”