Chapter 1143: Showdown (14)

Hiss, hiss-

A casino cruise ship heading towards the Royal Capital of Kabahim. A spacious cabin with several bunk beds.

Inside the room where the crew rested after their shift, a grotesque laughter echoed.

[Heh heh…]

A hawk-nosed giant, hunched in the middle of the room, chuckled, his body shaking.

Each time his eight arms pounded the air, mana threads spun out like silk, hanging in every direction.

Shimmering, rustling-

Tens of thousands of mana threads, far exceeding mere hundreds or thousands, unfurled like transparent silk in the air.

The Tailor, alone in the quiet room, continuously laughed and processed the mana threads.

“Not enough yet.”

Lennok, leaning against the cabin door, watched the Tailor with Davi.

“We expended too many stored mana threads in Torquepaz. At this rate, we won’t be able to replenish all the reserves before reaching Kabahim.”

[This fellow, his working speed is slower than expected, isn’t it?]

Manipulation Spellcraft is notorious as one of the most difficult trait-type spellcrafts, yet it’s a versatile ability that can be utilized in any field, in any way, if the caster’s capabilities allow it.

However, using the spell inevitably consumes mana threads, so large-scale spellcraft requires a proportionally large amount of them.

The trait-type artificial summon, the Tailor of the Imaginary Dimension, was created by Lennok to overcome this so-called ‘disadvantage’ of Manipulation Spellcraft.

The Tailor, residing in the Imaginary Dimension and independently producing and storing mana threads, performs excellently in assisting Manipulation Spellcraft.

But once summoned and used, it necessitated a process of massive mana thread production and storage like this.

While operating under the alias of Victor, there was never a shortage of reserves, but a considerable amount of mana threads had been expended in Torquepaz.

“It was my first time fighting an Apostle like that, so it couldn’t be helped. I’ll have to start with the understanding that reserves are low.”

Engaging two of the cult’s highest-ranking Apostles in a 2-on-2 battle, fighting until a conclusion was reached, was a new experience even for Lennok.

Bringing out the Tailor meant unleashing full power was inevitable, and once the Forbidden Armament was drawn, there was no turning back.

“The gauntlet’s power is formidable, but it has a trickier aspect in that it devours an immense amount of mana with each use.”

Clank!!

As he raised his left hand, the air shattered, and a glass-colored gauntlet appeared in Lennok’s grip.

Lennok fell into thought, gazing at the Forbidden Armament, which distorted the surrounding landscape merely by its presence.

“It’s unparalleled in supplementing firepower, but I’ll have to be more careful about when to use it in the future…”

Manipulation Spellcraft is versatile, but precisely because of that, it’s somewhat less satisfying than Lennok’s other magic when it comes to instantly boosting output.

In that regard, the Forbidden Armament’s ability to directly manipulate physical laws was incredibly useful for instantly compensating for Victor’s lacking firepower.

However, the mana consumed to use this ability was so immense that even Lennok’s vast mana reserves felt slightly strained.

‘The Forbidden Armament, huh.’

Lennok gazed down at the subtly shimmering glass-colored gauntlet with a complicated look.

This gauntlet, acquired from Anathema’s Temple, was a weapon forged using the bloodline of Ban-gung as its ‘material’.

The existence of Ban-gung, hailed as the strongest Ascendant in history. A forbidden art that activates its power using his bloodline as a material.

And what that name meant to Lennok himself.

“…”

Even though he believed he had fully understood its meaning in Kundara, he was still shaken.

The bloodline of Ban-gung.

How should Lennok himself interpret those words?

Was it truly acceptable for Lennok to wield such power in this manner?

Even amidst an ungraspable delusion, Lennok hesitated, knowing that this gauntlet was the key to opening The Gate.

Because he understood it was the key and the criterion that needed to be prioritized in this assault operation.

Beneath the Royal Capital of Kabahim, at The Gate, could Lennok once again confront that secret?

It would be a lie to say he wasn’t looking forward to it, participating in this assault operation—

“Victor.”

Creak…!!

At that moment, the sound of space tearing open above Lennok’s head reached him.

Agneta, hanging upside down from the ceiling, stared down at Lennok with a blank expression.

“Did you call me?”

“…Agneta.”

Lennok stopped his thoughts, dismissed the gauntlet, and turned his gaze.

“Before we begin, there’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

“Alright, alright, out with it.”

Agneta, hands on her hips, let out a snort.

“Fellow Manipulation Spellcasters should help each other, right? If Victor wants—huh?”

Agneta’s bewildered gaze turned and fixed on the Tailor in the middle of the room.

The summon, ceaselessly drawing out mana threads with its eight arms moving in grotesque ways.

The strange, shimmering remnants of the Imaginary Dimension beneath the Tailor’s feet.

“As you can plainly see, this is an artificial summon I made, somewhat mimicking your abilities.”

Lennok said.

“Of course, it’s not comparable to you, but it’s designed to be partially compatible.”

“…”

“I’d like to entrust this summon to you for a while—what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.”

Agneta’s expression turned sulky.

“Who told you to make something like this?”

“You look tired.”

A low voice came from behind Lennok as he walked out into the corridor.

Lennok, who had been rubbing his face, spotted Antares and adjusted his mask.

“You were here.”

“That ancient being is a miraculous product that shouldn’t exist in this era.”

Antares said.

“Living in an age of humans, she must have faced immense difficulty establishing her identity.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Showing her a toy that mimicked her abilities was not a good choice.”

“…”

Did he already know that Lennok had reached a dramatic negotiation with Agneta inside the cabin?

Lennok let out a cold sigh, crossed his arms, and sharply turned his gaze.

“It was necessary. We’ve agreed to pay the price, so don’t concern yourself.”

“Indeed. I somewhat agree with the direction itself.”

Antares smiled, looking at the cruise cutting through the river.

“Her Manipulation Spellcraft relies too heavily on instinct. You must be considering how to keep her from dangerous fronts.”

“I doubt you came to talk about such things at this hour.”

Lennok, fiddling with his mask, sneered.

“Are you perhaps trying to foresee something about me?”

“…”

Antares stared at Lennok for a moment, then slowly stood up.

“What I saw on the Pilgrimage Path was ultimately just a failed future. Therefore, there are plenty of outcomes I cannot foresee myself.”

“…”

“Futures I can’t foresee, people I can’t foresee… they’re everywhere.”

Antares said, meeting Lennok’s gaze through his mask.

“Therefore, the reason I cannot foresee you might be different from what I believe. But I don’t mind.”

“…”

“Even if the process is set, if the outcome remains unknown, it’s as good as unwritten.”

Antares’s hair fluttered in the blowing wind.

His long black hair momentarily obscured the Seer’s expression.

“In the past, I didn’t know that. So I believed that a being who could see both sides of fate would be the answer.”

“…Both sides of fate?”

As Lennok paused, a sudden sense of déjà vu washing over him, Antares averted his gaze.

“What I’m about to do now… is a struggle to pick up the pieces of my arrogance and mistakes.”

Vroooom-

The cruise ship rumbled lowly, emitting a heavy thrum.

As the colossal hull slowly reduced speed, cutting through the river, and then gradually came to a halt.

The empty air shattered like glass and dispersed, revealing the vast landscape of a fortress beyond.

Thump!!!

A massive Royal Capital where the entire city was composed of colossal ramparts and a fortress.

Every bustling district and urban area was part of the fortress, the city walls themselves.

The Knight Nation, Kabahim. The moment Lennok realized he had arrived at its Royal Capital and raised his gaze.

Pwoooooooo-!!

With a magnificent trumpet blast, dozens of flags unfurled and crisscrossed above the cruise.

Splendid banners, emblazoned with the insignias of various knight divisions and noble houses, fluttered.

People who emerged onto the deck late marveled at the sight.

“The Royal Capital of Kabahim…!”

“The Knight Nation. Is this truly the Fortress City?”

Before the sturdy walls visible in the distance, dozens of knights in metallic armor stood in formation.

Unique knight division insignias were etched onto their sun-glinting armor, and they stood in a dignified posture, facing them.

Beneath thick helmets that completely obscured their faces, cool, unwavering gazes were fixed directly upon them.

Clank!!

A man, seemingly the commander of a knight division, stepped forward from the front rank, removed his helmet, and raised his gaze.

The man, sweeping back the hair that fell from beneath his helmet, gazed at the ship with deep-set eyes and spoke.

“I am Xylo Spenson, Commander of the 8th Division of the Ten Royal Knights of Rectitude of the Royal Capital of Kabahim, here to greet His Majesty’s guests.”

Xylo, holding his helmet in one hand and placing the other over his chest, bowed slightly with a precise movement.

Almost simultaneously, dozens of knights in formation replicated the gesture, producing a resounding thud.

Thud!

“Distinguished guests. Welcome to the Royal Capital of Kabahim.”

Xylo slowly raised his head, spoke in a calm voice, and nodded.

“From this moment, we shall escort you to the Royal Palace.”

Pandemonium’s strategy for entering the Royal Capital of Kabahim was simple.

They led with Freya, who had arrived for a concert, while puppets manipulated by Chebien mimicked staff and officials.

Agneta used Manipulation Spellcraft to animate expressions and conjure voices, while Soryu regulated body temperatures with her ice abilities.

Any unnatural traces or lingering magical scents from this process were completely erased by the Clown’s illusions.

“We’ll unload all the lights and stage props here.”

“Please be careful not to tear the boxes!”

“We’re out of contact with the agency from here on, right?”

“I applied for a preliminary venue inspection, when will that be possible?”

Dozens of people chattered noisily, carrying and unloading all sorts of items.

All of them were fakes, mimicked and acted out by only five abilities wielders.

Puppets, vibrant and lifelike, playing the part of real people to deceive the knights’ eyes.

Even the Clown’s illusions, which perfectly dispelled any unnaturalness or strangeness arising during the process.

“Low-tier illusions are like parlor tricks; if you try to openly deceive, keen-eyed individuals can sometimes notice them.”

The Clown whispered as he handed Lennok an empty box.

“But if it’s just about smoothing out the process, not altering the outcome, it can even deceive the keen senses of high-tier physical superhumans.”

“…”

“By building up small things like this, one by one, you can eventually deceive reality itself.”

The Clown, humming a tune, carrying materials amidst the puppets.

But Lennok didn’t reply, simply staring blankly at the Clown’s back.

An illusion that deceives the process, not the outcome.

That delicate skill, tweaking minor discrepancies to cover up even vast unnaturalness.

The Clown had described the Conjunction Spell Master’s spellcraft as shining brightest in fields other than combat, but the same could be said for the Clown himself.

How fatally and dangerously illusions functioned when used for their true purpose: deception.

How easily deceiving and manipulating premises and assumptions, beyond any suspicion, allowed one to overcome all sorts of difficulties.

The knights’ reactions, observing the group with keen eyes yet failing to detect any anomaly, definitively proved this.

“Inspection complete. The examination of your belongings and stage equipment is finished.”

Xylo, the Commander of the 8th Division, who had led the inspection, stepped back and nodded.

“From now, we will guide you towards the Royal Palace.”

Perhaps because Freya’s identity was confirmed, or because the concert schedule itself was pre-planned.

The entry procedures proceeded surprisingly quickly.

The knights, having finished inspecting the props and luggage, respectfully stepped aside and began to lead the way.

Clank, clank!!

The sight of the knights, arrayed at the Royal Capital’s rear port gate, marching towards the distant Royal Palace.

With every movement, the rhythmic clanging of their metallic armor resonated, adding to the sense of pressure.

Under the oppressive feeling as if surrounded by the knight division, Lennok silently watched the knights.

‘Their physical abilities and mana efficiency are monstrous. It’s almost as if they’re not human, but magical beasts.’

Though hidden by armor, a mana scan revealed the knights’ bodies to be developed to a bestial level.

Muscle and bone density, body temperature, and metabolic activity were abnormally high, and their internal mana reserves were also considerable.

The entire knight division comprised individuals around Level 5 and 6, with their commander, Xylo, estimated to be Level 7.

However, as Soryu had mentioned, the physical abilities of these blessed knights exceeded their own rank by nearly a full level.

‘Even if one’s inherent rank was thoroughly specialized for combat, it wouldn’t be this much. Is this the power of the ‘blessing’ bestowed upon the Royal Capital…’

Only then did Lennok understand why the Clown had first brought up the blessing bestowed upon the Royal Capital during their meeting.

Fighting head-on against knights who received blessings throughout the Royal Capital via Geas-bound oaths would only result in their loss.

And even more so, considering Pandemonium’s objective of opening The Gate and assaulting what lies within.

Clank!!

As Xylo stood before the colossal Royal Palace gates, they slowly began to open.

Before the slowly opening gates, Xylo turned to the group and bowed respectfully.

“His Majesty awaits. Please, this way.”

“…”

Freya nodded slightly and led the way, with the group slowly following behind her.

They walked through the vast corridor that unfolded beyond the open gates, treading on a red carpet towards the golden audience chamber.

Elaborately carved walls, pillars, and ceiling were adorned with banners bearing the insignias of various noble houses and knight divisions.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

With every step, a magnificent reverberation echoed, resonating as if to welcome the guests to the Royal Capital.

Knights and soldiers. Nobles and bureaucrats. The myriad gazes awaiting them in the audience chamber repeatedly focused and dispersed.

Among them, six knights stood in the front row of the hundreds of onlookers.

Thud!!

Two expressionless young men, one old man, a sharp-featured woman, a stoic giant, and even a grinning boy.

The elite superhuman force of the Royal Capital of Kabahim: the commanders of the Ten Royal Knights of Rectitude.

So, six of the total ten commanders of the knight divisions had already gathered in the Royal Capital?

However, the knights’ gazes were not directed at the approaching guests crossing the center of the audience chamber.

“…Hey.”

“That’s right.”

The Clown grinned at Freya’s whisper.

“That’s the man.”

In the deepest part of the audience chamber, a throne that seemed forged from solid metal stood.

A man of handsome appearance sat perched on the throne, looking down with an expressionless face.

Rumble!!!!

An overwhelming presence that weighed down the surroundings, simply by sitting on the throne and casting his gaze, without a single word.

Just looking at him, his gaze felt like a tangible weight pressing down on one’s shoulders.

The man’s bearing radiated an immense aura, as if to devour the entire audience chamber.

Was that man indeed Aronbaiger Kabahim, the current monarch and ruler of Kabahim?

“…”

From the moment the group entered the audience chamber, no one spoke.

There was no introduction of Freya, no announcement of the group’s visit to the king, no guidance.

No decree to kneel before the king, no words of praise for him, no message to show deference.

The hundreds of people gathered in the audience chamber merely awaited the reaction of one man.

In that strangely heavy silence, the monarch, Aron, slowly rose.

Thud!!

With each step he took down from the throne, a fierce pressure was felt, enough to make one’s gaze waver.

A weight that crushed and pressured the entire audience chamber with his mere presence, as if shaking the very soul.

But the nobles and knights arrayed in the audience chamber merely bowed even deeper, without a word.

Only then did Lennok realize, through the reactions around him, that this was the proper way to have an audience with the king.

The Talent for Duality, possessed by Kabahim’s monarch, which Raymond and the Clown had mentioned and warned about.

With that unique talent to observe a single concept from two sides, he must intend to ‘peer into’ the group gathered here.

They had already planned to evade the monarch’s gaze using the Clown’s illusions.

However, the moment Lennok saw the monarch’s eyes approaching him from the front, he momentarily forgot that premise.

Eyes of deep, ocean-blue ultramarine.

Aronbaiger’s two eyes exhibited a dual-pupil formation.

“…”

The monarch, Aron, who had descended before the group, slowly approached Freya.

Within his abyssal, deep ultramarine eyes, her image was reflected at different angles.

The moment Freya grimaced at his chilling and eerie gaze, which seemed to peer into the depths of her soul.

Whoosh-

Aron, casually passing Freya, swept his gaze over the group arrayed in the audience chamber.

Chebien’s puppets. Agneta’s mana threads. Soryu’s unique ability.

The monarch’s gaze returned to Freya, sweeping past Lennok and the Clown.

Aron, who had been walking with an expressionless face, stopped right in front of Lennok.

“…”

A suffocating silence stretched on eternally.

In the stiff atmosphere, Freya’s expression hardened, and the puppets controlled by Chebien flinched.

The smiling Clown leaned his head back with his hands behind his back, and Antares quietly closed his eyes.

Aron, after a long silence, slowly spoke.

“This is truly wondrous.”

Before anyone realized, he was gazing at Lennok with an incomparably gentle expression.

“My soul resonates and harmonizes with yours like this. Blessing today’s miracle.”

“…”

The Talent for Duality.

A talent that allows one to simultaneously observe a single concept from two perspectives.

Could Aron, through his eyes and talent, have somehow glimpsed the secrets Lennok kept hidden?

The moment Lennok, assuming the worst, prepared to amplify his mana and raised his gaze.

Thud!!!

Aron, with a solemn face, knelt before Lennok.

Simultaneously, the knights arrayed around them all knelt and bowed their heads as if on cue.

An overwhelming sight of hundreds of people arrayed in the audience chamber, bowing their heads in reverence towards Lennok alone.

“Everyone, kneel and revere him.”

Aron, with his head bowed, murmured with closed eyes.

“The bloodline of Ban-gung has returned.”