Chapter 1141: Showdown (12)

“How’s the condition?”

“What condition are you referring to?”

“Conjunction Spell Master Avesta Chapman. I personally touched his mind.”

The basement lobby of the Torquepaz Auction House. A dark tunnel with no proper path.

At the Mastermind’s words, walking ahead, the Spell Master’s expression twitched.

Aoshu Spero spoke, ignoring the Spell Master’s reaction.

“Perhaps because he’s a Trait-type Spellcaster, the structure of his brain is completely different from ordinary humans. The number of neurons is much higher than that of modern humans, making it difficult for his mind to synchronize with the body.”

“…”

“I thought it wouldn’t be strange if he ended up a vegetable, given the severe rejection during the process of connecting the spinal cord and right brain, and binding it to the central nervous system…”

Spero, possessing the body of the elderly gentleman who was the auctioneer, sharply twisted his head to look back at the Spell Master.

With a crunching sound, his neck twisted almost halfway.

Blood streamed from the old man’s nose, but Spero ignored it and smiled.

“If he hadn’t woken up, I really wanted to eat his brain. What a pity. That was the condition for my help, after all.”

“…”

Was the Mastermind’s reason for cooperating with the Conjunction Spell Master’s mental adjustment because he was originally interested in the Spell Master’s right brain?

While he seemed to communicate normally, his words and actions still had a chilling aspect.

A twisted disposition and madness, different from the Clown or the Conjunction Spell Master.

“Psychic. It wasn’t really something for you to be disappointed about.”

But Chapman responded calmly to Spero’s words.

“Because there was no scenario in which I wouldn’t wake up, under any circumstances.”

“Oh, really?”

“The fact that my ego does not exist independently was already verified at the moment the brainstem connection was severed and the right brain was extracted.”

The Conjunction Spell Master said in an indifferent tone.

“On the premise that my physical functions are alive, my cognitive abilities always exist with bias, constantly seeking to define myself through endless confirmation.”

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“This is because my soul and mental image exist through the origin of ‘conjunction’.”

Ignoring the Clown, who tilted his head in confusion, the Spell Master naturally turned his gaze towards Lennok.

“Because I perceive myself on the premise of being divided from the beginning, ‘I’ can continue to exist as me even after being separated. You understand, don’t you?”

“Why should I understand a lunatic who splits his own brain in two?”

“…The experiment on the left ended in failure, but the right still remains here.”

Despite Lennok’s firm refusal to understand, the Spell Master calmly raised his left hand.

The Spell Master, gazing at his raised left hand, folded his fingers one by one and said.

“If I remembered that fact, I would have certainly brought this body under control eventually. I don’t feel I owe you anything.”

“…”

What was connected to the Spell Master’s right brain was the Drug King’s left half.

The right half of the body must be controlled by an artifact created through the Drug King’s alchemy.

If so, does the Conjunction Spell Master only perceive the left bodily organs as himself?

Lennok vaguely understood why the Spell Master himself had complained that his spellcraft performance wasn’t even half of what it should be.

“His mental fortitude is strong, unlike a high-ranking spellcaster. Should I say he’s the type to find a reason to live anywhere?”

Aoshu Spero tilted his head.

“It’s very different from simply clinging blindly to a goal. Cases like this were almost nonexistent among the Enforcers, except for Sister Maiya.”

“Maiya? Maiya Lonslet?”

The Clown, who had been whistling and shaking his head, reacted for the first time.

“Surely you’re not talking about that Enforcer who’s currently missing?”

“…What?”

Spero abruptly turned his head.

The sound from the old man’s neck grew louder, but he twisted his neck almost completely backward to look at the Clown.

“What did you say happened to Sister Maiya?”

“…Hmm.”

For a moment, the Clown’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Spero.

A faint change in emotion that even Lennok, observing the situation, almost missed.

But the Clown quickly composed his expression and said with a smiling face.

“Well, I don’t really know for sure, but I heard she took on a dangerous task recently and failed spectacularly.”

“What, what operation?”

“Hmm, well… was it the Four Archangel Demonic Mirrors? I don’t think it was one of our operations.”

The Clown whistled, feigning indifference.

“I don’t remember well. Perhaps after seeing the 8th Apostle’s corpse that the Cult was secretly moving, I might recall.”

“…”

Even amidst this, was he trying to reel in Spero and toy with him as he pleased?

Lennok inwardly shook his head at the Clown’s bizarre answer, yet he fell into thought.

Maiya Lonslet. A member of Pandemonium and a physical superhuman who was the Machine City’s top Enforcer.

Could it be that the Enforcer, who was perfectly fine when Lennok met her at Anathema’s Temple, had gone missing in the Demonic Mirrors?

In terms of one-on-one combat ability and martial artistry, she was a transcendent technician, difficult for Lennok to handle.

As a former Enforcer, she should have possessed the skill and knowledge to take care of herself anywhere.

What did it mean that she entered the Four Archangel Demonic Mirrors and then went missing?

“It’s that way.”

From behind Spero, who had closed his mouth with an eerie intensity, the Spell Master tilted his head with an indifferent expression.

“I smell blood.”

Whoosh!! ! !

The long tunnel stretching beneath the auction house basement.

A basement filled with crushed, broken containers and several unrecognizable corpses.

Standing amidst the scattered corpses, leaning on his staff, Raymond turned his gaze.

Covered in blood from head to toe, he smiled at Lennok.

“Ah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“…”

At Lennok’s lack of response, Raymond belatedly checked his own appearance and forced a wry smile.

“I apologize for looking like this. I received an urgent call and came down here to deal with the Cult’s priests.”

“Were you directly tracking Cult members?”

“It was information personally provided by the VIP. The situation was urgent, so I had no choice but to act myself.”

Crunch!!

As Raymond limped and turned, the head of a fallen priest beneath his foot was casually crushed.

The power to crush a human head with pure psychokinesis, without even glancing at it.

“I apologize for not being able to help with the Forbidden Armament’s recovery. Instead, I asked Mr. Spero to handle the situation, and was it resolved well?”

“…”

It seemed Raymond had come down here to hunt the Cult priests immediately after finishing his game with Lennok.

Was that why Aoshu Spero suddenly appeared at the auction house to clear up the commotion?

Seeing the psychokinetic user covered in blood from head to toe, Lennok had no mind to interrogate him about the game’s results.

“The Cult priests must have remained here to steal Camlodal’s corpse.”

Lennok looked around and asked.

“Where is the corpse? You haven’t let it get away, have you?”

“Ah, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Raymond gave a wry smile and turned his gaze.

“It should be returning right about now.”

Thump!!

At that moment, a guardrail moved in the distance of the underground warehouse, causing the entire structure to vibrate violently.

The shock felt as if something extremely colossal and heavy was vibrating and slowly approaching.

As the vibrations steadily intensified, violently shaking the ground the group stood on, and then, at the moment it tilted obliquely.

CRASH!! ! !

Something shattered through the warehouse wall and appeared beyond it, scattering a radiant light.

[Hoo-wook, hoo-wook…!!]

Breathing heavily, the rock giant stared down at the ground with bloodshot eyes.

Grotesque tentacles squirmed and violently thrashed between its hard rock armor.

The giant, trailing broken rails and wires, slowly approached.

“Oh dear, it seems those fellows had less leeway than I thought.”

The Clown chuckled, realizing the rock giant’s identity.

“I didn’t think so, but were they really trying to steal this cumbersome shell whole?”

“The corpse of Camlodal, the 8th Apostle of the Guido Cult.”

Raymond glanced at the Clown and said.

“To be precise, it’s the ‘puppet’ he used in this battle.”

“…”

The rock armor, borrowing Anathema’s power. The grotesque mass of tentacles spilling out from within.

In the final battle with Lennok, did Camlodal’s puppet ultimately fail to escape the battlefield?

“Were there any other corpses or traces at the scene?”

“There were corpses of Cult priests, but this was the only remains believed to be an Apostle’s.”

Thump!! Thump!!

The Apostle’s form pulsated, scattering ominous magic from its entire body.

The rock giant, having approached right in front of the group, flashed its eyes at the Clown, and at that very moment.

Camlodal’s corpse knelt on the spot and slumped down.

CRUUUMBLE!! ! !

The impact generated a pressure wave, sending a violent gust of wind.

[No. This is the limit of its movement.]

A flat voice echoed faintly from inside the rock giant’s head.

[If I stimulate the brain any further with my ability, the remaining parts will be completely destroyed.]

“…”

“I heard there were superhumans more powerful than expected hiding in Machina’s underworld, but this is beyond expectation.”

Beside the silent Lennok, the Conjunction Spell Master asked with an indifferent expression.

“Can you control even the brain of a dead Apostle if you push mental psychic abilities to their limit?”

[The Syndicate requested that I extract the memories from this corpse.]

Aoshu Spero said calmly.

[And I agreed because I was curious about what an Apostle’s brain tasted like.]

“How interesting. This isn’t just a puppet; it’s a living vessel imitating an Incarnation Body.”

The Clown smiled, looking intrigued.

“No matter how powerful a congenital psychic is, this isn’t something one should handle with a clear mind. You might end up a slave to the Cult, you know?”

Camlodal’s puppet, which had clashed with Lennok using Forbidden Armaments at the end of the battle in the stadium.

Exposed entirely to the power of the Forbidden Armament within the Clown’s self-detonation, that body was already lifeless.

Yet, Aoshu Spero was manipulating the mind of the already dead corpse, moving its body.

An impossibility for a psychic ability like Psychometry without influencing not just the mind but the physical body as well.

“I already completed the corpse’s status check before you arrived.”

Raymond, leaning on his staff, turned and spoke, looking at the approaching corpse.

“The corpse’s outer shell is harder than any monster or magical beast I’ve ever seen. However, most of its internal organs were ‘missing’.”

“…”

The Clown grinned at Lennok, and Lennok ignored his gaze.

Raymond’s gaze, missing the reactions of the two, deepened.

“It was directly engulfed by a transcendent spellcraft capable of designating and annihilating internal organs, or by a power that manipulates concepts.”

“So, you can intervene in a physical body even after its nervous system is completely dead. Interesting.”

The Conjunction Spell Master, his eyes gleaming, pulled out gloves from his surgical gown pocket and moved forward.

The massive, tattered rock giant, kneeling and slumped.

The Spell Master, gazing at the grotesque tentacles protruding from it, drew a scalpel.

“If you don’t mind, may I briefly dissect that body? I want to examine the cellular tissue of these tentacles.”

Slash!-

Before waiting for an answer, the Spell Master incised the tip of a protruding tentacle with his scalpel.

Ignoring the bodily fluids splashing on his face, he lifted the incised tentacle tip to examine its interior.

“With my knowledge of the Polyclad Class of Soft-bodied Monsters, I can learn a great deal just by dissecting the corpse.”

Plop.

He quickly cut off a tentacle with an unsanitized scalpel, extracted cells from it, and dumped them into his mouth.

“Generally, major nerves and sensory organs are concentrated in the extremities. The area with the most information is probably—”

“Blech.”

“…”

The Clown, pretending to gag with his tongue, and Lennok, casting a look of contempt.

Raymond, who had been watching in horror, stammered belatedly.

“There was no need to go that far… Mr. Spero has already reached a conclusion regarding the 8th Apostle’s origin.”

“What conclusion are you referring to?”

[Camlodal’s Apostle puppet. While it’s partially compatible with my abilities, its mental aspects, like memories, are almost unreadable.]

Spero spoke from within the corpse.

[If our systems were different, I wouldn’t have been able to move this corpse. Conversely, if they were the same, I would have eaten the brain and read its memories.]

“…”

For a moment, Lennok crossed his arms without answering.

He understood the meaning of the Mastermind’s words, but not the reason behind them.

“Are you saying Camlodal’s Apostle Spellcraft… has similarities to your congenital psychic ability?”

[It’s far closer than that.]

Aoshu Spero said.

[The 8th Apostle’s Apostle Spellcraft isn’t just a simple spellcraft. If anything, it’s closer to a psychic ability.]

“…”

[This octopus named Camlodal. Before becoming an Apostle, he might have been a very powerful psychic.]

The 8th Apostle’s Apostle Spellcraft, Camlodal’s puppet.

Was his spellcraft, which involved splitting his ego and using it as a clone and puppet in exchange for human sacrifice, operating on principles similar to a psychic ability?

But even after hearing Spero’s confident words, Lennok remained silent for a while, lost in thought.

Because, if that were the case, too many things about Camlodal wouldn’t make sense.

“Well, for me, I’m more interested in his memories than in the secret of the cute octopus monster.”

The Clown tilted his head, a smile unreadable, and said.

“It’s a pity his memories can’t be read. This means we’ll have to find out the Cult’s motive in a different way.”

“Do you think we need to know why the Cult intervened?”

“As far as I know, there’s no reason for the Cult to target the Royal Capital’s [Gate].”

The Clown replied leisurely to Lennok’s words.

“They already possess several passages that can act as [Gates]. Wasn’t that the very reason the Holy War occurred in the first place?”

“…”

It felt as if he had just heard a very important fact about the Holy War, almost in passing.

But the Clown, seemingly unfazed by his own words, rested his chin in his hand, lost in thought.

“The reason why two of the Cult’s highest-ranking Apostles are so concerned about the [Gate]. I don’t want to overlook it and get blindsided later. Isn’t that right, Victor?”

“On that matter, I— crunch, I think I can help.”

At that moment, the Conjunction Spell Master turned his gaze.

The Clown smiled, seeing the tentacles squirming and being chewed in his mouth.

“Chapman. I’m curious about the taste myself, but that’s not edible. Are you determined to die?”

“As a result of my dissection, the Apostle’s internal structure is not significantly different from the soft-bodied monsters I know.”

The Spell Master, munching on the tentacle, stood up and said with a calm expression.

“This type of monster has far more sensory organs than humans, and their method of transmitting and storing information is completely different.”

Rip!!

The Spell Master, tearing off the tentacle he was holding and lifting it, said.

“Soft-bodied monsters perceive and remember information through muscle movements, so these extremities are virtually their mouths and ears. Do you understand what this means?”

“So, by recreating the movements of the tentacle muscles, you can read the corpse’s memories?”

“Precisely.”

Stab!!

The Spell Master, gripping the scalpel and plunging it into the tentacle, flashed a chilling smile.

“By recreating the command signals that passed through the sensory and motor systems, I can repeat past actions. Of course, the memory will be limited to the moment this tentacle was freshly formed—”

The Spell Master quickly glanced away.

“But that moment would be the memory of when this tentacle was given its purpose. Wouldn’t it?”

[—Ah, ah-ah-ah]

Tremble—

At that moment, the tentacle sprawled on the floor began to vibrate violently, convulsing.

As if vibrating itself to produce sound, the vibration itself patterned, transforming into a form of language.

And then, slowly, it uttered words.

[…Found the [Gate] located beneath Kabahim’s Royal Capital.]

“It’s speaking backward. It seems Chapman is recreating the tentacle’s memories in reverse.”

The Clown, immediately recognizing the anomaly, his eyes gleamed.

“I’ll reverse the order with an illusion.”

The moment the Clown snapped his fingers, the tentacle’s message instantly reversed and began to play.

[We have found the [Gate] located beneath Kabahim’s Royal Capital.]

“…”

A heavy, low-pitched voice, converted into sound through the vibrations of the tentacle muscles.

Lennok realized it was the direct message of Camlodal himself, the creator of this puppet.

[According to intelligence from the Inner Route, Pandemonium’s forces are currently converging on Torquepaz.]

[Move the forces of the Far Western Branch to buy time, and prepare for this Incarnation Body to intervene.]

“It seems some of our operation’s intelligence has leaked.”

The Clown grinned and turned his gaze.

“They seem to have stolen observational data from the Western Continent’s Inner Route, but could they have learned about the [Gate] from just that?”

“If it were merely speculation, a single-digit Apostle wouldn’t have been deployed to the battlefield.”

Lennok’s eyes flashed behind his mask.

“It certainly seems there was a strong motive beyond just that.”

“Even if not, this is the last of it.”

The Spell Master, with an indifferent expression, plunged the scalpel in and twisted it.

“The objective personally designated by the Apostle himself, at the moment this puppet was created.”

[We shall open the [Gate] located beneath the Royal Capital and offer the miracle of its opening to the main Cult—]

Camlodal’s slow message resonated softly over the dark tunnel.

[This shall be the first arrangement and cornerstone for unsealing the Cult’s 1st Apostle.]