Chapter 1160: Fate of Demise (11)
The World’s Ten Laws.
The moment the Mandala opened, Lennok already understood the meaning of the concept unfolding before his eyes.
It was Transcendent Magic, said to be the original version of the grimoire [Fate Weaver’s Libra: Five Apex Laws], obtained from the mid-term settlement of the Demonic Conflux.
The unique Transcendent-tier magic, which had only existed in the lore of WORLD, was slumbering within the Mandala.
‘This is—’
Wasn’t this what ‘he’ had referred to as the ultimate failsafe in the Archive’s memories, pointing to the Mandala?
Or perhaps the World’s Ten Laws were used to preserve the Dead God’s Remains within the Mandala?
Originally, a spellcraft like the World’s Ten Laws wouldn’t even have been a concept existing in the Third World.
In the fleeting moment the Mandala opened, countless thoughts rapidly flashed through Lennok’s mind.
Immediately after, a noise so intense it blew away all those worries swept through Lennok’s brain.
WHOOSH—!!!!
“……!!!!”
An enormous amount of information flooded his mind, swelling as if to burst.
Not memory, but imprint. Not storage, but alteration.
Incomprehensible information, beyond linguistic interpretation, was forcibly slammed into his mind.
“Ugh……!!”
CRACKLE……!!!!
He heard a phantom sound like his eardrums exploding, and his five senses dulled.
His vision swayed crimson, and Lennok stumbled momentarily, stepping back.
“……All that you have done since coming to the royal capital has surpassed Our expectations.”
Aron’s expression, which had been impassive as he watched, trembled for the first time, as if in agitation.
“Surely, you did not try to forcibly acquire it by directly interpreting the Mandala’s fundamental principles?”
“……!!”
“No, even if that were the case… it should be impossible.”
Aron looked down at Lennok with a chilling expression.
“You attempted something that We, even after sacrificing thousands of humans and borrowing knowledge from the Archive, could not achieve, and you are still standing, without any preparation?”
WHOOSH……!!
As Aron took a step, the frozen Frost Ring behind him began to spin.
Emitting a cold so intense it froze space itself, Aron shouted, his face distorted.
“Are you, truly, blessed by a god?!”
He clenched the frigid air and flung it straight at Lennok.
The moment a chilling wave of cold exploded above Lennok’s bowed head.
An intense noise enveloped Lennok, surging upwards and devouring Aron’s mana.
CRACK!
“……!!!!”
A bizarre, awkward crackling sound, like an apple shattering. Aron retreated with a stiff face.
The ominous, noisy glow around Lennok, as if a screen was crushing, shimmered.
A sense of incongruity, as if ‘something’ within it could not be rendered into this world’s information, causing an error.
But Lennok instinctively realized that this was the power of the World’s Ten Laws, which constituted the Mandala.
Merely organizing and accepting this concept in his mind made Lennok complete and flawless.
The moment he underwent the process of understanding and acquiring its principles, he rejected and blocked all external forces.
A remnant of transcendence that approaches flawlessness not just when used directly, but even in the very act of learning and acquiring it.
But—
FLASH!
Having thought that far, Lennok used Flicker to accelerate forward. He slammed straight into Aron.
He exploited the gap with a Space Transfer, striking below Aron’s elbow to disrupt his balance.
A storm of cold burst out diagonally, stopping both Lennok and Aron simultaneously.
Aron’s expression turned cold as he saw Lennok’s Mana Threads manipulating his body like a puppet.
“Such a petty trick… Are you trying to face Us without using the Mandala?”
“That’s not the issue.”
Lennok exhaled heavily from behind his mask.
“This is… not a mere spellcraft or power. It’s closer to a far more dangerous proof.”
An incomprehensible law that even Lennok, with his transcendent magical talent, couldn’t properly accept.
But ironically, Lennok had experienced something similar just recently.
His lightning magic, running wild beyond his control. The causality of lightning, reaching the threshold of Level 9.
The moment he grasped the Mandala, Lennok realized he couldn’t control it.
And he even understood that it was because it had reached a far higher hierarchy than himself.
The World’s Ten Laws. The meaning of the tenth number, which exists nowhere in this world.
That it was proof of a possible tenth transcendence, beyond the nine transcendences a Seeker could achieve.
A message hinting at an untouched miracle that no one had reached, yet clearly existed.
“Now I understand why the Mandala was called a failsafe…”
Lennok muttered, moving his creaking body with Mana Threads, exhaling with difficulty.
“This was, from the beginning… something that ‘he’ couldn’t perfectly control either…”
Perhaps Lennok should have become aware of the Mandala’s existence much later.
At least, it might have been designed for him to perceive the arrangement left by Ban-gung only after reaching a hierarchy equivalent to Ban-gung himself.
But because Lennok had drunk the Elixir of Ascension in Kundara and tasted a deviation of his own, albeit through an unconventional method.
Because he had foreseen the origin of someone who was Lennok himself. That was why Lennok stood here, facing memories from the Archive that were originally forbidden.
If it weren’t for the knowledge and techniques he gained while overseeing the Promotion Ritual in Kundara, and the memories of researching the Five Apex Laws, he would have been swept away without being able to react.
“You speak well, despite barely being able to control your own body.”
Aron sneered.
“First, I shall shatter that annoying mask.”
“Hmph…!!”
Lennok exhaled with difficulty and thought.
‘Aron isn’t in peak condition either. At least now, if I can…!’
Aron’s Frost Ring was a Forbidden Armament made from the Dead God’s Remains.
It was proof that he had forcibly acquired a power not originally permitted, using knowledge from the Archive.
However, it was undeniable that Aron’s condition was unstable, having just completed the manufacturing process.
The very attempt to engage in close combat without using the artifact he had just acquired supported this conjecture.
Then—
BANG!
The remains of a colossal knight. Lennok and Aron moved simultaneously atop the arm placed on the throne.
Their arms and hands tangled and clashed at a distance so close their shadows overlapped.
CRASH!
THUD!
Lennok deflected Aron’s descending punch sideways and struck his ribs with an elbow.
He stomped on Aron’s ankle, kicked his knee to push him back, and deflected a fist aimed at his solar plexus.
Lennok’s Mana Threads, binding his body, thrashed wildly as their hands crossed at incredible speed in the air.
Dozens of tiny shockwaves erupted in succession, violently fluttering their robes.
RATTLE RATTLE RATTLE!!!
“Impressive!”
In the midst of the chaotic melee, Aron’s punch seized Lennok’s Mana Threads and severed them.
The moment he parried a reverse strike aimed at his temple and kicked Lennok’s abdomen.
BOOM!!!!
Lennok’s body, flung from the remains of the Cold Comet, crashed and tumbled into the snow.
Had he not prepared Mana Threads to cushion his fall, his spine would have snapped.
Aron landed in front of the coughing Lennok and asked.
“For a spellcaster, you have fair skill. Have you ever learned martial arts?”
“Ugh…!!”
“Your judgment and reaction speed are excellent, but your inherent vessel is too base to contain such martial talent.”
CRUNCH!
Aron stomped on Lennok’s shoulder and said coldly.
“To attempt to contend with Us, knowing it is an unwinnable fight, your resolve is admirable. But that is all.”
“……”
He wasn’t wrong.
What Ban-gung had left within the Mandala was a concept far more absurd than he had imagined, and his attention had been drawn to it.
But even more astonishing was that Aron understood, to some extent, the true meaning of the Mandala.
If so, then that reason must be—
“From the beginning, he never intended to give up on either…”
Lennok coughed dryly, lifting his gaze.
“The Dead God’s Remains… and the Mandala… He intended to acquire both directly.”
“Sometimes, to obtain the vessel, one must first take the contents.”
Aron nodded.
“Knowing that the Mandala’s existence holds a far greater meaning… We merely did not mistake the order, unlike you.”
“……”
“The Remains of a God and the vestiges of an Ascendant. By overlaying the two most twisted meanings of fate in this world, I shall reach transcendence.”
Aron spoke, the Frost Ring gleaming behind him.
“And thus, We shall finally gain the qualification to fully peruse the knowledge of the Archive.”
Aron had told Lennok his goal was to process the Dead God’s Remains into a Forbidden Armament, but from the start, he had no intention of giving up anything.
He had intended to create a gauntlet in the ancient castle’s basement, needing Ban-gung’s bloodline or a Forbidden Armament made from him as a material to access the Mandala.
But the moment Lennok appeared in the royal capital, rendering that unnecessary, he abandoned his original plan and used the Back Door to enter the sanctuary.
Although his intentions were exposed to Lennok mid-way, complicating things, he had, as a result, reached the brink of success.
The Frost Ring made from the Dead God’s Remains. Lennok’s very existence, needed to access the Mandala.
All of Aron’s schemes were merely a process to obtain the qualification to freely peruse the Archive.
“The Archive is a repository of knowledge that endures even after the conclusion, akin to the blueprints of an ‘Empire’; within it lies the method and technology to save the world.”
Aron said, taking his foot off Lennok’s shoulder.
“Ars Nova failed to execute it before its demise, but We shall use that knowledge to carry out their dream beyond the continent.”
“……Beyond the continent, you say.”
“The fate of the world has become overly tied to this continent. We intend to create new possibilities beyond the continent.”
ROAR!!!
Aron looked up, gazing at the golden radiance unfurling from beyond the snowy plains.
“Beyond the continent, which even the Empire could not conquer, We shall establish a new foundation and fill the empty throne.”
Only then did Lennok understand why Kabahim’s knights and royalty were exiled and abandoned.
Just as the First Division Commander of the Ten Royal Knights of Rectitude had designated someone from beyond the continent, Aron was trying to recruit lacking talents for Kabahim from beyond the continent.
“A dream as grand as it is baseless.”
But even understanding that, Lennok scoffed at Aron.
“If such a convenient solution existed, the Central City wouldn’t have fallen so senselessly. Aren’t you mistaken?”
“……”
“The Archive is not some blueprint to save the world. The Emperor was likely not such a benevolent savior either.”
Lennok staggered to his feet, exhaling heavily.
“Such a convenient method… never existed in this world, from the beginning.”
“No, We do not think so.”
Aron looked back at Lennok with an impassive face.
“The answer is right before your eyes. Are the materials needed to obtain the Mandala not here?”
“……”
“Your gauntlet, and the Manipulation Spellcraft you use. Either one will do. Any of them are fine.”
Slowly, Aron turned his steps, drawing upon his mana and muttering.
“Only the fact that you are the closest link to Ban-gung in this world is all that matters at this moment…!”
“You’re speaking as if you’ve already succeeded in something you haven’t even attempted.”
Lennok chuckled, slowly clasping his hands together.
“You can say that after you’ve killed me.”
“You are mistaken, kin.”
Aron said, raising his hand.
“From this moment, We shall not even grant you the choice of life or death.”
He wouldn’t give him time to use Manipulation Spellcraft.
The moment Aron spun the Frost Ring, intending to bury Lennok in ice.
The Clown appeared beside him and swung his foot straight at Aron’s temple.
“Surprise~”
CRACKLING!!!
A preemptive strike, appearing from thin air, already fully accelerated, kicking him in the head.
But Aron, even aware of the Clown’s surprise attack, didn’t even react to block him.
In the blink of an eye, ice covered Aron’s head, deflecting the Clown’s kick like a helmet.
Aron, his cold eyes gleaming, spun around, and the Clown’s body simultaneously rotated in the other direction.
The two Transcendants exchanged dozens of blows in the air at incredible speed.
POW-POW-POW-POW-POW!!!
An extremely high-level exchange of techniques, impressive enough to make even Lennok, who was rapidly retreating to inject painkillers, momentarily admire it.
Each time they exchanged punches and kicks at unseen speeds, cannon-like roars erupted in succession.
The Clown, gracefully twirling in the air, barely touching the ground, and Aron, meeting every offensive without moving an inch.
“HYA!”
With a strange yell, the Clown clenched his fist, and his right arm bulged grotesquely.
The moment Aron received the swollen giant’s fist with an impassive face, the Clown’s balloon-like muscles exploded on the spot.
From within, hundreds of butterflies soared, glowing in unison around Aron and self-destructing.
KABOOM!!!!
“This is insane.”
The Clown muttered in disbelief, seeing Aron unscathed within the explosion.
“You’re this strong even when you’re not properly using your power?”
“Pandemonium’s Illusionist. The Clown of Torquepaz, then.”
Aron turned his eyes to the Clown, speaking with a cold gaze.
“We also experienced what happened at the Well.”
“……So, if I run away now, will you let me off?”
“We cannot leave an illusionist who has reached the realm of reality manipulation alive.”
CRACKLE……!!
Aron’s arm was enveloped in cold frost, transforming into pure white armor.
“I shall crush your head.”
Mana, endless as it was, coiled around the Frost Ring, following Aron’s armored right hand.
The moment a massive wave of frost exploded, shooting forth as if to pierce the Clown’s body.
“Summoning Spell.”
Lennok, his hands clasped, finished his incantation and lifted his gaze.
“Tailor of the Imaginary Dimension.”
CRACK!
Space split open, and eight arms burst out, prying open the fissure.
[Heheheheh……!!]
With an eerie laugh, the hawk-nosed giant emerged, slung a Mana Thread around the Clown’s neck, and yanked.
With a SNAP, the Clown’s body was pulled backward and slammed into the snow at Lennok’s feet.
KABOOM!!!!
The wave of frost, narrowly missing the Clown, swept through the sanctuary and exploded.
The golden spacetime of the sanctuary tilted sharply, and massive walls and ceilings collapsed.
Through the widening cracks and debris, intense presences drew closer, one by one.
THUD, THUD……!!
Armor shaking heavily with each step. The chilling air erupting from the seams with every movement.
Azure figures, each refined to be sharp or blunt, differing in form among the knight divisions.
Wearing angular helmets that covered their faces, their dark cloaks fluttering as they marched across the snowy plains.
Kabahim, the nation of knights. The elite of the Ten Royal Knights of Rectitude, composed solely of high-ranking knights.
Was the core force of the knight divisions, which had been dispersed throughout the sanctuary, now returning en masse?
‘I asked Agneta to refill my Mana Threads before starting the operation, but I’m not in perfect condition.’
Lennok glanced at the Tailor as he watched the knights approaching from beyond the fog.
Trait-type artificial summon, the Tailor of the Imaginary Dimension. An auxiliary device for Manipulation Spellcraft, created by mimicking Agneta’s abilities.
However, it wasn’t fully charged, having been depleted once during the Torquepaz incident.
Lennok, receiving the Mana Threads from the Tailor, quickly surveyed his surroundings.
‘I can only use it once. In that case—’
“Victor, are you alright?”
FLUMP!
At that moment, the Clown popped his head out of the snow at Lennok’s feet.
His entire body buried like a snowman, he comically licked the snow from his face.
“I bought you some time, but you don’t look so good.”
“I’m not particularly hurt, so don’t worry about it.”
“Hehe, then that’s a relief.”
The Clown sharply turned his head, gazing at the king enveloped in the blizzard far away.
“It seems it would be a bit overwhelming to face that alone.”
“……”
ROOOOOAR!!!!
A colossal Frost Ring, absorbing all the cold and mana in the sanctuary, grew larger.
With each rotation of the frozen Frost Ring, Aron’s body froze on the spot, enveloped in ice armor.
Losing his human form and transforming into an incarnation of ice, mana close to infinite surged around his body.
The intense presence of a frozen white knight, his form changing, with the Frost Ring like a halo.
“His mana… seems endless.”
Lennok murmured quietly, watching the sight.
“Is that the power of a Forbidden Armament made from the Dead God’s Remains?”
“It’s one of the exclusive possessions of the Outer Gods.”
The Clown shrugged.
“They draw power from a different timeline, not the present, so there’s no consumption cost. They say they draw power from stars they’ve already destroyed in the past.”
“……Drawing power from already destroyed stars?”
“The reason they can crudely draw on that power by making a Forbidden Armament from the Dead God’s Remains is precisely because that power source exists in the ‘past’ to begin with.”
The Clown, rolling out as if swimming in the snow, answered.
“However, that Frost Ring has an ambiguous form for a Forbidden Armament. I suspect it wasn’t properly processed from the god’s remains, but rather from merely the residual soul, leading to that form.”
“……”
Was that why, even after Aron made a Forbidden Armament from divine power, the remains of the frozen knight were left behind?
But Lennok was thinking more about the Clown’s explanation of how Outer Gods wield power.
Drawing power from a different timeline, not the present.
That method of passing the consumption cost to already existing past, to destroyed stars—
“The remains of a god long dead. If only the soul was processed, not the body, then its ability would only be an imitation of a fragment of an Outer God…”
The Clown, kneading a snowball and rubbing it on his face as if for a massage, said.
“Still, we can’t take that without killing Aronbaiger, can we?”
Aronbaiger Kabahim’s previous inaction must have been to gather the power of the Frost Ring.
Once the stabilization process was complete, he would fully unleash the power of the Cold Comet to ‘preserve’ Lennok’s existence.
That was also why he had first laid hands on the Dead God’s Remains, not the Mandala.
If they were to move before that, now was the only chance.
“It’s just like Torquepaz.”
Lennok sneered.
“Shall we each go our own way again?”
“No. I’ll adapt to Victor’s plan this time.”
The Clown laughed.
“Fighting an Apostle didn’t really matter to me, but this time it’s different.”
“Why?”
“That, in all likelihood, is something the Director needs.”
The Clown said, gesturing with his eyes at the Frost Ring rotating behind Aron’s back.
“To see the Director’s work through to the very end, that will probably be necessary.”
“……”
“Well, explaining the reason is a bit complicated, but…”
The Clown, slowly trailing off, pulled out a dart from his pocket.
“I’ll buy you some time. How much do you need?”
“Any amount is fine. Just once.”
Lennok, turning towards the approaching knights, drew out Mana Threads and said.
“After that, I’ll do as I please, so you can run away or whatever you want.”
“That’s fine by me.”
The Clown grinned, tilting his head back.
“Isn’t that what I do best?”
FLASH!
The Clown, falling backward, vanished, and Lennok, drawing out Mana Threads, accelerated.
The knights furiously charged towards the two figures, who had darted in different directions.
SWISHHHH!!!
His shadow robe fluttering wildly, Lennok’s body spun in a semicircle along the Mana Thread.
He narrowly dodged gleaming sword-light and slashes, accelerating at tremendous speed towards the outer edge of the sanctuary.
He rapidly distanced himself from the frozen throne and the Cold Comet’s Remains left within it, moving in the opposite direction.
Lennok broke through the knights’ formation. The moment he stretched his hand at full speed towards the outside of the sanctuary.
An enormous pressure poured down from above, crushing Lennok.
KABOOM!!!!
A sword strike that instantly stomped on Lennok’s body, skewering his robe and pinning him to the ground.
Five knights stood on Lennok’s prone body, pointing their swords at him.
CLANG!
“That’s far enough, bloodline of Ban-gung.”
“We will sever your neck the moment you attempt spellcraft.”
The vanguard of the Ten Royal Knights of Rectitude. The assembly of the royal capital’s strongest division commanders.
Had they read Lennok’s destination and predicted his arrival point to intercept him in this chaos?
Firm hands, holding greatswords, curved swords, and straight swords in different stances, thrust close to Lennok’s vital points.
Among them were familiar faces like Uzel, as well as swordsmen and spearmen he hadn’t seen before.
“His Majesty requires your life, so await.”
“Don’t move if you don’t want to die.”
“You won’t escape this time.”
“No.”
At that moment, Lennok replied with a faint smile.
“I won’t run away this time. I never intended to from the start.”
“What?”
“If I wasn’t going to settle this, I wouldn’t have come this far. I just needed time.”
The memories of ‘him’ he had encountered in the Archive.
The lingering scent of a moment when he was himself, yet hadn’t fully realized it.
He had hesitated, wavered, and merely postponed confirming it, even knowing.
Having abandoned everything and returned to stand here, he wanted to know if he could make a different choice.
He had already decided, yet he hesitated for a moment.
Therefore, this time—
FWOOSH—!!!!!
A colorless ripple fiercely erupted, engulfing the sanctuary.
A premonition that the knights pinning Lennok had been extremely wary of.
But the ripple was not spreading from beneath Lennok’s feet, where the commanders had him surrounded.
It was emanating from the hawk-nosed giant, the Tailor of the Imaginary Dimension, floating far away from Lennok.
The colorless ripple was erupting from around the summon, which had eight arms clasped in a mudra.
“Impossible……!!!”
“Surely, no way!!”
Only then realizing its meaning, the knight commanders gasped, turning their gaze.
Because they, too, immediately understood Lennok’s intention and how absurd his method was.
Knowing well the seven Self-Transformation Stages, they couldn’t believe what was happening before their eyes.
“Was the spellcaster merely a decoy from the start!!!”
“He’s not human. How can he use a summon to manifest a Mental Image…!!”
“The true value of Manipulation Spellcraft lies in controlling phenomena using a medium.”
Lennok slowly raised his head and smiled.
“At its apex, even expanding the Root Mindscape… doesn’t necessarily have to originate from myself.”
The branching point of Manipulation Spellcraft obtained under the identity of Victor.
As a member of Pandemonium, and a Transcendent who inherited the spellcraft of the Ascendant Ban-gung.
At a future branching point where he reached the pinnacle of Trait-type and even transcended the limits of spellcraft.
“Kill him!!”
“Behead him. Stop him from incanting!!”
CRACK!
Facing the cold blades falling towards his neck and heart, Lennok whispered.
“Domain deployment.”