Chapter 1156: Fate of Demise (7)

BOOM!!

The frozen iron door opened with a heavy roar.

The Conjunction Spell Master, who had opened the door and entered, cleared a path by pushing aside surrounding objects.

“The operating room is this way. Come inside.”

“……”

Lennok followed the Spell Master into the dark room, silently surveying his surroundings.

A vast basement where icy cold air swirled.

Even the doors and corridor walls were as cold as ice, making it difficult to touch them casually.

Evidence that the climate of Kabahim’s royal capital had changed like this a long time ago.

“Follow the path I cleared. And don’t touch my works around here.”

“……Works?”

Hearing that, Lennok stopped, looking at the people frozen throughout the basement.

Humans, eyes wide open, solidified in place, posing in various ways.

Lennok frowned at the strangely familiar sight of them preserved like decorations.

“You caught people from the royal capital and used them as subjects for your Conjunction Spellcraft.”

“To adjust the spellcraft output, I needed to work on living humans, didn’t I?”

The Spell Master replied indifferently.

“I was just doing the work here that you prevented me from doing in Torquepaz. Is there a problem?”

“……”

He had been unusually quiet since arriving at the royal capital; it seemed he’d been engrossed in playing with humans here all along.

Even with his left and right brains surgically separated, his tendencies and actions, aside from emotional changes, remained utterly disgusting.

Should he be called unpredictably capricious, or consistently insane, true to a Trait-type Spellcaster?

“I only used criminals with unknown identities to hide the traces, but as expected, most were inferior somatic bodies.”

While Lennok silently gazed at the dozens of humans preserved around the operating room, the Spell Master moved without a care.

“I wanted to dissect Kabahim’s knights for precise spellcraft adjustment, but it seems there won’t be enough time for that.”

“I didn’t realize you had enough discernment to do such things, picking your time and place.”

“The Illusionist said he plans to finish the job today and leave the royal capital.”

The Spell Master turned to Lennok with an indifferent gaze.

“I suppose he thought there was no reason to delay, now that you’ve returned. In a way, you’re the reason I missed the opportunity to dissect a knight.”

“……Does that mean the operation isn’t starting, but nearly over?”

Lennok smoothly ignored Chapman’s nonsense and retorted.

“If the Conquest Operation is set to end today, how far has it progressed?”

“As I said, I know nothing about the operation. However, the Illusionist moved immediately after Kabahim’s monarch left his seat.”

The Conjunction Spell Master, Avesta Chapman, said flatly, pointing at the frozen basement wall.

“He said he’d turn the entire royal capital upside down, so this weather must be the result.”

“……”

So, Aron’s movements, influenced by Lennok’s presence, caused The Clown to change his actions as well?

If the royal capital’s climate had suddenly warped into this as a result, then it must be—

“He touched The Gate beneath the royal capital and drew its sanctuary’s power outside.”

Lennok murmured.

“Did he tamper with The Gate using Antares’s foresight while Aron was away?”

The Clown was privy to the location of The Gate hidden beneath the royal capital.

If The Clown had moved while Aron was away with Lennok, it must have been to play a trick on The Gate.

If Aron, having failed to open the Back Door, turned to The Gate, and The Clown’s trickery transformed the royal capital like this, then the situation makes sense.

“Oh-ho.”

The Spell Master, who had been rustling and pulling back the cloths and coverings, muttered.

Chapman turned to Lennok, as if something just occurred to him, and said.

“Now that I think about it, I might have heard a similar explanation. I wasn’t really listening, so I don’t remember.”

“……”

“Well, what do I care? It’s not my job anyway.”

Flap!!

As the cloth was pulled back, a massive operating table behind it was revealed.

The Spell Master, standing before the table, raised its backrest and gestured to Lennok.

“Sit.”

“This…… isn’t something that was originally in this basement.”

The operating table felt strangely familiar.

Lennok realized it was similar in design to the operating table that existed within the Spell Master’s Life Domain, and looked at him with an absurd expression.

“I wondered what you were doing, hiding since you arrived at the royal capital, but you were creating your own Domain in this basement?”

“Manipulation Spellcaster. I don’t particularly like explaining the same thing twice.”

Click!!

The Spell Master pulled the lever on the operating table, releasing the restraints, and replied.

“My accompaniment for this mission was solely to adjust the output of the Conjunction Spellcraft. Anything else is irrelevant.”

“……”

“I’m willing to move as you wish for a while, having adjusted this body, but don’t expect anything more from me.”

The Spell Master, washing his hands in icy cold water and putting on gloves, spoke to Lennok with cold eyes.

“Sit on the operating table and extend your left arm. I’ll need to fix your body while I perform the conjunction.”

“You’d better have made progress on that Conjunction Spellcraft adjustment you were working on.”

Lennok said, placing his left arm on the operating table.

CRAAAACK……!!!

The Forbidden Armament’s form was cracking and splitting in real-time with an ominous rupture.

Lennok pointed at the trembling gauntlet, emitting a pale light, and said coldly.

“Because if this goes berserk here, it won’t be me who dies.”

“Don’t worry.”

The Spell Master said, gripping a scalpel and standing beside Lennok’s arm.

“I am a merciful surgeon who doesn’t discriminate against ill-mannered patients.”

“Nonsense……”

Lennok trailed off, seeing the black ripples resonating from the cracks in the gauntlet, as memories from the Archive resurfaced.

Ultimately, the meaning of the memories Lennok saw in Ars Nova’s Archive was simple.

Even if he wasn’t Lennok then, Lennok might have been him someday.

Because Lennok’s existence belonged to a larger category, he could freely control the power of Manipulation Spellcraft as a branching point, unconstrained by it.

That fact itself was no different from proof that Lennok’s penalties and talents were not entirely dependent on ‘his’ existence.

Why did Lennok, despite having such a ‘cause,’ wake up in an old abandoned factory and cross countless thresholds of death?

Even if his physical aptitude originated from him, Lennok’s talent of mind, including his intuition, answers, and Root Mindscape, could not be explained.

Such talent was an aptitude etched into the soul, not the body; the very identity that formed his existence.

“……”

Since opening his eyes in this world, Lennok had always been himself.

He had never once thought of becoming another being.

But if Ban-gung’s existence was merely a part of what made up Lennok.

If even such a ‘cause’ could not fully explain Lennok as the ‘result.’

Something still remained that Lennok didn’t know.

At least, a mystery that could never be solved through dialogue with the Pontiff—

“……Wait.”

THUD!!

The moment Lennok snapped back to attention, a massive roar echoed from the basement ceiling.

It sounded as if a very heavy mass was striding through the area above the basement.

Similar footsteps simultaneously resounded from various parts of the ceiling.

“It’s the Ten Royal Knights of Rectitude. The mana pattern is familiar.”

Lennok, who instantly recognized their presence through mana detection, said.

“The 9th Division. The one guarding the royal capital, led by Albian, who wields a greatsword.”

“……”

There was no need to say who the killing intent hovering above their heads was targeting.

Lennok glanced at the Spell Master, hearing the hurried footsteps searching for the basement entrance.

“They’re looking for us. Were you followed on the way here?”

“No. If it’s the 9th Division, I have an idea.”

The Spell Master scratched his cheek with an impassive face.

“Now that I think about it, I seem to have captured one of their knights and used them as an experimental subject. It seems I’ve been tracked.”

“……Why are you talking like it wasn’t your doing?”

He had boasted about wanting to use Kabahim’s knights as experimental subjects, but had he already dissected one behind his back?

Did he commit the act and lie, knowing he’d be caught, or did he genuinely not remember?

For a Spellcaster as deranged as the Conjunction Spell Master, either possibility was high, making it difficult to guess.

“Manipulation Spellcaster. I don’t know what you’re talking about, either.”

The Spell Master, bending over and caressing the cracks in the gauntlet, said brazenly.

“I never said I didn’t dissect a knight. I merely expressed regret that there weren’t enough samples to organize the data.”

“……”

CRASH!!

Even amidst this, the basement ceiling violently swayed as if about to collapse.

Lennok looked at the Spell Master.

“Judging by their reaction, our approximate location seems to have been discovered. We’ll have to move if you want to continue the surgery.”

“No. The surgical equipment and tools here cannot be moved elsewhere.”

The Spell Master, scalpel in hand, nodded towards Lennok.

“We’ll press on. We can just finish the surgery before they find us, can’t we?”

“What kind of—”

Before Lennok could retort to that absurd statement, the Spell Master drew on his mana.

Gripping the scalpel, he plunged it deep into the crack of the damaged gauntlet.

A gesture meant to cut human flesh, now thrusting between metal.

[!!!!!!!!!]

The moment the scalpel pierced the crack, the gauntlet vibrated convulsively and began to shake violently.

It tightened powerfully, as if to squeeze Lennok’s arm, reacting fiercely as if trying to merge with his flesh.

“……!!”

Lennok gasped inside his mask at the intense pressure that threatened to crush his arm.

It was a good thing his left arm itself had been transformed into a Forbidden Armament by the Hall of the Thunder God’s experiments; otherwise, his bones and flesh would have been crushed whole.

Even the Spell Master seemed surprised by Lennok’s reaction, glancing over with the scalpel still embedded.

“The recoil must be quite painful, yet you’re enduring it without even reinforcing your body with mana. Impressive willpower.”

“……”

“If you don’t use mana, the surgery becomes much easier. Excellent posture. Maintain that state.”

“Shut up and just hurry up……!!”

The fragmented pieces of the gauntlet sought to adhere to his left arm, becoming completely one.

Black mana, like steam, erupted from the cracks, staining the surroundings in darkness.

“Don’t rush me. I adjusted this spellcraft here precisely to handle such complex work.”

But the Spell Master, unperturbed by the recoil, flowed mana into the scalpel and replied.

“And I never start a surgery I intend to fail.”

CRUNCH……!!!

He twisted the scalpel embedded in the crack, forcibly prying open the gauntlet’s fissure.

Through the widened crack, he pressed his ungloved hand down, activating the Conjunction Spellcraft.

He began to forcibly ‘conjoin’ and fuse the gauntlet’s cracks.

Chiiiiiik!!!

[!!!!!!!]

The gauntlet’s form erupted with an inexpressible resonance, accompanied by a powerful ripple.

Each time, the footsteps of the knights above intensified.

—Mana reaction below. We hear sounds too!

—We can’t break the floor. We need to find the entrance.

“The Forbidden Armament is a weapon that uses humans as material. Damage inflicted on the armament is a crack inflicted on the soul.”

The Spell Master said, pressing his hand into the gauntlet’s crack.

“So the surgery I’m performing is to conjoin the soul’s fissure with the armament, making them completely one.”

“Compressing the form……?”

“Compress and kill the souls that became material, leaving only their original abilities and completely extinguishing their will.”

As Lennok struggled to reply to the inexpressible sensation on his left arm, the Spell Master nodded.

“Making room in that empty space for another ‘material’ to enter. That was the task the Illusionist requested of me.”

“……Wait, that’s.”

Leaving only the Forbidden Armament’s abilities, compressing and killing the souls of the humans that became its material.

Leaving an empty space for a new soul to reside.

And, at this point, the new power that should reside in the gauntlet—

“Surely, the remnants of a Dead God—”

KWA-AAANG!!!

The locked iron door of the basement was utterly shattered, unleashing a powerful shockwave.

Knights, their eyes glowing with killing intent beneath their helmets, stormed into the basement.

At their center, a colossal knight wielding a greatsword strode forward, radiating immense mana.

“Pandemonium.”

Albian, the Royal Capital’s 9th Knight Division Commander, swung his greatsword, stopping it just before the Spell Master’s neck.

PA-ANG!!!

A force so intense that the sheer sword pressure instantly blew away tools and equipment around the operating room.

Albian’s expression subtly hardened as he saw the preserved humans around the Spell Master, who had turned his back.

“You must know how ridiculously terrible the atrocities you’ve committed in this royal capital are.”

“……”

“There was a royal decree to capture the rebels who caused chaos in the royal capital, dead or alive. You lot must be their primary instruments.”

“That’s regrettable.”

The Spell Master replied, focusing on conjoining the gauntlet’s seams.

“I heard you also have a knack for extracting abilities by using humans as material. Can’t that expertise be shared?”

“Is that what you call—”

“Ah, wait a moment.”

The Spell Master cut off Albian, even putting down his scalpel, gripping the gauntlet, and drawing on mana.

“It’s almost done. In fact, from now on, its output will be much stronger than its original performance.”

“……You bastard!!”

Enraged, Albian instantly swelled his momentum and deployed his Miniature Universe.

The moment the dull gleam of his greatsword swept across the Spell Master’s neck, the entire basement split in half and exploded.

The underground and ground level met with a terrifying roar, and the ground caved in, causing an earthquake.

KWA-GWA-GWA-GWA!!!!

The operating room was crushed and destroyed, squeezed vertically and horizontally, space itself collapsing.

Realizing the Spell Master was nowhere to be seen, he stood with Lennok, supporting him, at a hidden side door behind the operating room.

“Though I put a lot of effort into it, the environment itself was poor, so it wasn’t a place to stay long.”

Lennok, with the gauntlet hanging limply, pulsating as if alive, and the Spell Master, pulling him along by his robe.

“As knights of the frontier, their attitude toward my works is truly awful.”

The Spell Master frowned, seeing the preserved humans toppled everywhere by the earthquake Albian had caused.

“If you promise to meticulously care for my works right now, I will permit them to be displayed in the royal palace. They would make fine tourist attractions for this backwater.”

“What nonsense is this madman spouting!!”

“Get them!!”

“They’re Pandemonium members! If you let them escape, disaster will befall the royal capital!!”

Albian twisted his greatsword to unleash another earthquake, and the Spell Master turned.

Following the Spell Master, who was escaping through the side door, blades embedded themselves from all directions, traveling along the walls.

The narrow corridor exploded as if hit by artillery, roaring loudly.

KWA-AAANG!!!

The moment they narrowly evaded the sword strike and ascended to ground level, the entire street collapsed and exploded.

Albian’s Miniature Universe shook and disintegrated the entire ground, as if a massive anti-tank mine had detonated.

Just as the Spell Master’s body swayed and fell forward, a Magic Scribe held him in mid-air.

Shwaak!!

Lennok pulled the Spell Master onto a nearby building’s rooftop, collapsing just as the entire street where the operating room had been began to completely disintegrate and explode.

Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo!!!!

Knights rushed up at tremendous speed, treading on the crumbling ground.

Albian, wielding his greatsword from below the surface and operating his Miniature Universe, expanded the scale of the earthquake.

The Spell Master, crouched on the rooftop, glanced at the vast destruction.

“You recovered quickly. How’s your condition?”

“……Horrible.”

Lennok said, extending the gauntlet on his left arm from inside his robe.

A bizarre pattern of black cracks, like tree roots, was etched across the glass-like gauntlet.

It no longer shattered or went berserk, but it felt much more ‘hollow’ and precarious.

Each time he moved the gauntlet, black ripples spread through the air, striking at spacetime.

“It’s not a matter of output; the ability and sensation themselves feel corrupted.”

Lennok stared at it for a moment, then turned his gaze away irritably.

“I shouldn’t have entrusted the job to a Trait-type Spellcaster. How can this be called a surgery?”

“If you have complaints, express them to the Illusionist, who made the deal with me.”

KWA-AAANG!!!

As the rooftop exploded, Lennok and the Spell Master moved simultaneously.

Leaping across the frozen building roofs, they quickly distanced themselves from the knights.

KWA-GWA-GWA-GWA!!!!

The residential area on the outskirts of the royal capital collapsed and exploded, as if pursuing Lennok and the Spell Master, the very ground giving way.

Lennok, turning his gaze away from the approaching earthquake, frowned at the distant view of the royal capital.

“That’s……”

Heavily armored knights filled the streets outside the royal capital, leaving no room to stand.

Formations of knights, fully armed even in the freezing weather, advanced to surround them.

Had the other knight divisions, who hadn’t yet returned to the royal capital, also regrouped and begun to move?

“Well, my job here is done.”

The ground exploded from Albian’s indiscriminate use of his Miniature Universe. Knights, accelerating as if sliding across building roofs, pursued them.

In the center of the tightening encirclement, the Spell Master stopped first.

“With this trashy body, fighting high-ranking knights won’t be efficient.”

The Spell Master turned his back without a trace of regret, ignoring Lennok, and said in an indifferent tone.

“I don’t particularly want to lend a hand at a time when the Conjunction Spellcraft adjustment isn’t even finished. I’ll head back first.”

“Where are you heading back to, I wonder?”

Lennok asked, looking at the knights approaching from all sides.

“Do you think there’s an option to safely extract yourself from this situation?”

“I don’t understand that statement at all. Why wouldn’t there be a way?”

The Spell Master asked, as if genuinely puzzled.

“If there’s no space, just clear them out and make some, can’t you?”

“So, that method—”

“‘Sorrow’ activate.”

KIII-YUUUU-WOOOONG-!!!!!

The moment the Spell Master flicked his finger, an incredibly intense ripple of light resounded from behind Lennok, raising goosebumps.

Near the river on the outskirts of the royal capital where Lennok and the Spell Master had been escaping. A pale muzzle sat atop a moored cruise ship.

That muzzle was engulfed in immense light, aimed precisely at them.

“That’s……”

“I learned something while researching the Forbidden Armament you all stole from the cult; it’s a weapon that operates by using human emotions as its power source.”

The Spell Master crossed his arms, leaving Lennok speechless.

“So, I collected the emotions of the humans I touched in the operating room and charged it up a bit.”

“Surely, the reason you could repair this gauntlet was—”

“Naturally, it was possible because I studied the principles and form of the Forbidden Armament using that.”

Koo-goo-goo-goo!!!

The moment the Spell Master extended his hand, pointing at the knight division encircling the distant street.

The muzzle mounted on the cruise ship slowly turned, following his gesture.

The Spell Master casually lowered his hand.

“Aim for the royal capital’s center, fire ‘Pain.’”

WHOOSH!!

A pale flash, streaking past Lennok and the Spell Master, glittered above the heads of the charging knights in the distance.

The light of the Forbidden Armament, sweeping through the knights, descended, penetrating the royal capital’s buildings in a straight line.

The light, drawing a circular ripple, plunged vertically towards the center of the bustling district, evaporating everything in its path.