Chapter 1166: Fate of Demise (17)

“Cushion.”

“Fish.”

“Cogwheel.”

Mana threads intertwined in the air, drawing various complex patterns.

Lennok faced Agneta, who hung upside down from the roof of the cruise ship sailing on the sea.

Manipulating each other’s mana threads, they tied knots, connected them, and constantly changed their forms.

“Tapestry?”

“A flag. That’s enough.”

Hundreds of mana threads were intricately tied together, weaving hundreds of patterns into regular forms.

Finally, Lennok created a massive flag of string, tied it to the mast, and withdrew his hands.

“This should be enough to regain the feel for manipulating mana threads. It helped.”

“Oh, are we done already?”

Agneta, who had been playing string games with Lennok, chuckled, her expression turning glum.

“This is a game you can’t play alone. You need two people.”

“What are you talking about, with eight limbs?”

“Well, it’s not fun by yourself.”

Lennok couldn’t quite empathize with Agneta’s grumbling, but he admitted that she had helped him.

Agneta hadn’t fought directly in this operation, but had provided support in various ways from the rear.

It would have been impossible without her to supply mana threads to the idiosyncratic artificial summon, the Tailor of the Imaginary Dimension.

Thanks to her, not only was he able to summon the Tailor in a relatively complete state, but he could also deploy the Domain in the form Lennok desired.

Protecting the cruise ship docked in the harbor, leaving an escape route, and even the installation and recoil manipulation of the Forbidden Armament ‘Sorrow’ were her doing.

“Indeed. I owe you one this time.”

Lennok nodded, looking at Agneta.

“If you ever need help when we meet again, I’ll lend you my strength at least once.”

“Oh? Really?”

“Do you think I’d lie about something like this?”

Having played string games with Agneta using mana threads, he had also somewhat regained the blunted sensation of Manipulation Spellcraft.

Even putting aside the members of the Demonic Conflux, the Tailor’s matter was practically a personal request from Lennok.

Lennok had no intention of taking advantage of the ancient hybrid who displayed an odd sense of familiarity with a fellow Manipulation Spellcaster.

“Wow, that’s great. So, later, you can play string games with me all day, right?”

“……”

Ignoring Agneta, who was lost in happy fantasies, Lennok moved on.

As he stepped onto the swaying ship, he saw Soryu leaning against the mast.

He was quietly and steadily bandaging his wounds alone, surrounded by various medicines and syringes.

His expression, as he focused on first aid, was calm and contemplative, as if deep in thought.

“That’s an excellent method of first aid.”

Lennok scoffed at the sight.

“A pathetic skill, perfectly suited to shave about five years off your remaining lifespan.”

“……The passengers and attendants who came on the cruise fled to Torquepaz ages ago. Only we are left here.”

Soryu glanced back, a wry smile on his face.

“I only sustained minor injuries fighting knights in the sanctuary. I’m not crazy enough to entrust my treatment to the Conjunction Spell Master like Freya.”

“Did you even enter the sanctuary? I wonder how much of what happened in the royal capital you witnessed.”

I remember entering The Gate together, but I haven’t seen your face since then until just before we escaped.

Soryu might also have been handling his ‘personal business’ he mentioned back in the royal capital.

Aronbaiger Kabahim is dead. An Apostle of the cult dragged his body away and fled.

“……”

“The aftermath of your father’s death will be quite severe. Are you sure you don’t need to remain in Kabahim?”

“I am a royal who has already been exiled from the royal family. I am nothing more in that country.”

Soryu raised his gaze.

“It’s not that I had nothing to ask my father, but I also know that many things weren’t that important to him.”

“……”

“He exiled royals and knights, and sought to fill their positions with talents from outside the continent. That was probably the extent of the answers I could have received.”

Soryu, tying the bandage around his forearm, sneered.

“It was probably better for it to end this way. If I had confirmed it, I would have been disappointed anyway. That’s enough.”

“How decisive.”

Lennok smiled and reached into his pocket.

“Of all the nonsense you’ve spouted so far, that’s the only thing I’ve liked.”

Thud!!

A pure white, frozen ceremonial sword dropped before Soryu’s eyes.

As it plunged diagonally into the deck, an intense cold froze the floor.

Soryu looked at the ceremonial sword stuck in front of him with a wry expression.

“……What is this?”

“It’s the royal ceremonial sword Aron possessed until the very end. It seems to be a pure ice-elemental artifact, not a Forbidden Armament.”

Lennok said, arms crossed.

“I brought it to sell, but the cold makes it annoying to store. I’ll lend it to you for a while.”

“……”

“With that, you might be able to control your clumsy Bloodline Ability somewhat.”

Lennok scoffed, looking down at Soryu from behind his obsidian mask.

“I’ll make sure to get it back with interest later.”

“I see……”

Soryu had participated in this operation to find a way to control or eliminate his Bloodline Ability.

It was because he understood that the Bloodline Ability, derived from the remnants of a dead Outer God, was a curse, not a blessing.

However, with the events in the royal capital concluding this way, Soryu had lost his means to solve his problem.

That’s why Lennok had tossed him an item that could at least serve as a clue.

Lennok had also looted several royal assets in this operation, so lending this much to a royal should be fine.

“Actually, I did find a separate way to solve that problem in the royal capital, but……”

Crack……!!

Soryu, gripping the frozen ceremonial sword, forced a wry smile.

“I’ll accept it gratefully. I won’t forget this debt and will surely repay it someday.”

“It would have been much better if you hadn’t added that unnecessary remark.”

“……”

Lennok turned away from the silent Soryu. Soryu, having taken the ceremonial sword, followed behind Lennok.

“What’s the latest on Kabahim’s royal capital?”

“I heard that most of the royal capital’s citizens were out watching Freya’s concert, so civilian casualties weren’t significant. Conversely, the knightage is said to have lost more than half of its forces.”

Soryu answered, raising the phone in his hand, which had lost signal.

“It seems they’re trying to recover from the damage, centered around the surviving royals and knightage, but it won’t be easy. I heard that neighboring city-states are already making moves.”

“It seems colossal cities like Torquepaz and Endorose want to devour Kabahim. Do you think a war will break out?”

“The possibility is low. They won’t be the only ones trying to intervene.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because the Bloodline Ability etched into the royal bloodline is a curse originating from the power of a god.”

Soryu gave a wry smile.

“And if it’s that kind of power, there are lunatics who will almost certainly intervene—Are you alright?”

“……Yes.”

For a moment, Lennok felt his head spin and gripped the railing with his hand.

More a mental fatigue from brain overload than simple seasickness.

It was the second day since escaping the royal capital and beginning to sail near the Arctic Sea. Lennok was still suffering from the recoil of using his Domain.

‘The Domain’s recoil is one thing, but it’s also because of what I accomplished with it.’

In the final battle with Aronbaiger Kabahim, Lennok used Unmarked Succession Knot to ‘reconstruct’ the Branching Point Aron had obtained.

He had awakened the Talent for Duality, processed a god’s soul into an armament with knowledge from the Archive, and even assimilated his own existence with it.

Lennok seized all the achievements and causality he had obtained, and reconstructed them as his own.

The creation of a Branching Point, forcibly incorporating possibilities Lennok had not experienced into his Kaleidoscope.

‘Aron’s causality, directly fused with a god’s power, undoubtedly held meaning. I don’t think my decision to seize it was wrong, but—’

Unmarked Succession Knot is a Domain that takes the most precise and intricate Mental Image as its source, even within the Kaleidoscope’s Branching Points.

The pinnacle of technique, barely manageable by Lennok even when pushing the artistry and tricks he had mastered through magic and spellcraft to their absolute limit.

He even adopted the Thorben Magic Tower Lord’s deployment method, which doesn’t alter reality, so the amount of mental calculation and processing required at the moment of use is enormous.

Having deployed such a Domain for the first time, and finally even seizing a Branching Point, it’s natural for his brain to be overloaded.

[So I told you I’d handle the calculations next time.]

“Yes, yes.”

After sending Soryu ahead, Lennok walked across the deck, stroking the head of the humming spirit.

Nevertheless, the fact that he obtained the Branching Point Aron had acquired undoubtedly held significance.

A Branching Point where the soul of the Cold Comet was processed into a Forbidden Armament, perfectly assimilating himself with the armament.

The Outer God of Demise. It was practically a possibility itself, proof that he had begun to touch even a fragment of it.

Though it was a crude Branching Point, structured in a way that couldn’t even reach the toes of a true Outer God, projecting its memories into reality.

That alone held meaning.

That alone ensured that everything he experienced in Kabahim was not in vain.

Suddenly, a sharp scream pierced Lennok’s ears, pulling him from his quiet thoughts.

“Kyaaaah!! Damn it, I told you to be gentle!”

“She’s making a fuss about everything possible.”

Freya sat on a lavish sofa installed on one side of the deck, trembling with a pale complexion.

Beside her, the Conjunction Spell Master, wearing surgical gloves, looked down at her with an impassive face.

“It’s a simple suture for a graze. Anyone would think I’m picking up spilled intestines.”

“I just got a little scratch coming off stage, why does it have to hurt so much to stitch up!!”

“Who said they wanted treatment without leaving a scar? It’s almost done, just bear with it.”

“If I end up with a scar after all this, I swear I won’t let you off! There shouldn’t be any discoloration when I apply sunscreen, or if I have to cover it with makeup—”

“You worry too much unnecessarily. You didn’t even fight yourself, so why so many demands?”

“Hey!! Who do you think tied up the knightage while you guys were running wild in the royal capital?!”

Freya snapped back, shouting.

“If I hadn’t disrupted the royal capital’s blessing with Musical Scale Spellcraft, you all would’ve been surrounded and killed before you could escape, so you should be grateful!!”

The Musical Scale Spellcraft Freya uses is a wide-area intermediary spellcraft that boasts the highest range and scale among all systems.

Therefore, she brought the entire royal capital within her spell range, applied a debuff, and forcibly neutralized it by clashing with the royal capital’s blessing.

Not only did it significantly reduce the physical abilities of the blessed knights, but it also drew their attention, forcibly dispersing their forces.

It prevented all the knightage’s forces from concentrating on Lennok, who had defeated Aron.

Her judgment and actions, as she coordinated the situation from outside the battlefield until just before the escape, were not wrong, but the Conjunction Spell Master, perplexed, tilted his head.

“I don’t quite understand. Are you saying you want thanks after hijacking the Somatic Body I wanted to dissect?”

“……”

Behind a speechless Freya, the Clown and Antares sat facing each other across a poker table.

The two were playing a simple game of matching the face cards, carefully flipping them over.

“Six of Clubs.”

“Four of Hearts.”

“Seven of Diamonds. Is that right?”

“No, excuse me.”

The Clown stared intently at Antares with a dumbfounded expression.

“You’re so stingy when it comes to work, but you can just squander your precognition on a card game like this? Eight of Hearts.”

“If you hadn’t cheated first, I wouldn’t have done so either. Nine of Spades.”

Antares calmly flipped his card.

“In the city I lived in, they cut off your wrist if you cheated while gambling. I suppose we can go by the same rules?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

The Clown grinned and fanned out his cards.

“Usually, everyone goes home in their underwear before that happens.”

“Ow!! It hurts!! I said it hurts!!”

Freya’s screams, loud enough to make the deck vibrate, mingled with the faint music playing through the speakers.

“Victor, don’t just stand there watching, come over and play a round with us.”

The Clown gestured to Lennok, who was leaning against a bar set up on one side of the deck.

“How many chances do you get in life to play cards with a precognitive? Let’s enjoy it while we can.”

“I have no hobby of gambling with illusionists and precognitives. There’s something more important than that right now.”

Lennok, holding a glass with an alcohol-free cocktail, approached the table and lowered his head.

“You said you were going to meet the Director as a reward for this job. What exactly do you mean by making a wish?”

The reason Lennok, who had intended to disembark immediately after the Conquest Operation, remained here was because of the Clown’s words about meeting the Director.

The rather surprising answer was that the one he intended to make a wish to, after stealing the Dead God’s Remains, was none other than the Director.

“Hmm, I’m not particularly fond of adding metaphors or allusions to my words.”

The Clown shrugged, holding the cards in both hands.

“It’s exactly as I said. As a price for borrowing the Director’s power, I’m going to deliver the Dead God’s Remains obtained from this operation.”

“……”

“Of course, the Director is such a unique person, he might not even consider ‘that’ a wish……”

The Clown grinned, looking at the silent Lennok.

“Well, even if that’s not it, wouldn’t it be good to meet the Director at least once? As far as I know, Victor hasn’t met the Director since joining Pandemonium.”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“What I mean to say is, there’s no need to be so on edge. From here on, it’s like a bonus for this operation.”

Whap!

The Clown pulled a card from his palm, flipped it face down, and handed it to Lennok.

“So for now, sit here and celebrate the success of the operation with a game. What do you say?”

“……”

“We’re playing for some stakes, but a high-level spellcaster like Victor shouldn’t be short on cash.”

The Clown, an idiosyncratic illusionist, manages the recoil of his illusions by adjusting luck and misfortune in gambling.

He knew why the Clown was engrossed in gambling right after escaping the royal capital, and why Antares indulged him, but Lennok didn’t necessarily—

“Oh, surely not.”

The Clown wore a strange smile.

“A great Manipulation Spellcaster like Victor isn’t getting cold feet and backing out because he’s afraid of losing, is he?”

“Deal the cards.”

Lennok set his glass down on the table opposite the Clown and sat.

“I suppose I’ll have to show you that the manipulation system is superior to the illusion system in every way.”

“……If you’re going to fall for a provocation so easily, why did you back out in the first place?”

With Freya’s grumbling behind them, her sutures finished, the card game began.

The number of people at the table grew from two to four, then shifted between three and five.

Time passed quickly, and the deck’s scenery kept changing.

Freya, on stage, strummed a broken-stringed guitar, guzzling whiskey and singing.

The liquor bottles piled in the storage were lined up on the deck, all emptied and showing their bottoms.

“Hiccup. My turn.”

The Conjunction Spell Master picked up a card with trembling hands.

The Clown, slumped over the table with his head buried, grinned.

“Heh heh, you seem nervous. If you’re scared, just give up.”

“What are you talking about? This is muscle spasm caused by alcohol-induced constriction of blood vessels and nerves. I’m not nervous at all.”

“No, don’t lie~ Alcohol and hand tremors aren’t really related in the first place. Who are you trying to bluff in front of?”

The two engaged in a fierce war of nerves, neither backing down.

Freya whispered beside Lennok, who sat between them holding his cards.

“Which one is right?”

“Why ask me that?”

“There aren’t many people here who would know something like that.”

“Both are wrong.”

“Eh?”

Lennok put down his cards and glanced at the liquor bottle on the table.

“This whiskey is made by infusing Bataka Tree leaves, which are used in nerve stimulants. There’s no way your hands and feet would be steady chugging that stuff.”

“Is this really a legitimately manufactured product?”

“Of course, it’s something that completely violates continental alcohol laws.”

“……”

“Typical for alcohol brewed in Torquepaz, ignoring regulations and focusing solely on stimulation. But it’s interesting that it’s a combination of pharmaceuticals, not narcotics……”

“Right, I was foolish to expect a normal answer.”

“Alright, one last round, just the three of us.”

Ignoring Freya’s pathetic voice, the Clown picked up the cards.

“The one who loses here pays all the accumulated stakes.”

“No problem.”

“Fools, desperate to pay money amongst themselves.”

Three idiosyncratic spellcasters sat at the poker table, keenly observing each other’s expressions.

But, naturally, none of them were sane enough to have their expressions read.

There was Lennok in his mask, the Clown with his sloshy grin, and the hiccuping Conjunction Spell Master.

All of them picked up cards with no apparent outcome, and, as if on cue, simply drew upon their mana.

The members gathered on deck, watching the game, all exclaimed in admiration.

“Oh… these bastards are cheats.”

“I knew it.”

“If they’re just going to use spellcraft, why even play the game……”

“Then who wins?”

Ignoring the spectators, the three each flipped a card, revealing their hands.

With each flipped card, illusion, Manipulation Spellcraft, and Conjunction Spellcraft flashed and intertwined above the table.

Kwoooong!!!

With a shock that rattled the deck, the table, fixed to the floor, shattered, and the deck of cards scattered everywhere.

The three stared blankly at the cards fluttering down from above.

Everyone was speechless, silently watching the scene.

“Are they really crazy?”

Freya asked with a dumbfounded expression.

“What kind of gambling ends with a table shattered by spellcraft recoil—”

“That’s not it.”

Antares turned his gaze towards the rear of the deck.

“The ship collided with something. It’s stopped dead.”

“……Huh?”

Hearing that, Freya turned her gaze, her eyes wide.

The shadow of an island, visible amidst the sea shrouded in darkness.

She realized that an island, far larger than the cruise ship, was blocking their path.

Kwooooh……!!

A colossal shadow settled on the island, spreading like wings, seemingly staining the horizon pitch black.

What did it mean that an island so massive, undetectable even by the control room’s radar or Pandemonium members, had suddenly appeared?

While the other members belatedly understood the reason and turned around with surprised expressions.

“Oh, we arrived faster than I thought.”

The Clown, holding his cards, stumbled to his feet.

“No, it’s not time yet. Did they arrive earlier?”

“Clown, this is……”

“Well, it probably doesn’t matter. Shall we move immediately?”

The Clown grinned, turning towards the island engulfed by shadow wings.

“It seems the Director is waiting for us.”