Chapter 1415: Paradise Lost (26)

“Rosette open. Central operating room, open.”

The Conjunction Spell Master broke all ten of his fingers, his bloodied hands reaching out to chant the spell.

Lennok, listening right beside him, turned his head in a flash, finding the incantation hard to believe.

“Artificial Ideological Domain, manifest.”

Fshaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!

With the Spell Master at the center, spacetime distorted, and a pale, surgical light began to spread.

A shadowless lamp, like one in an operating room, hovered over the Spell Master’s head like a halo, rotating.

Simultaneously, The Grafter, sensing the change, immediately chanted a different ability and spellcraft.

Kwagwagwagwa!!!!

Stomping through the collapsing corridor, the three-headed, six-armed transcendent being looked down at the Spell Master with an eerie gaze.

Its three heads turned in unison, and six eyes locked firmly onto him.

[Asura’s Martial Echo: Dagger]

[One Sword Style: Seven Torments]

[Target Designation: Annihilate]

A heavy fighting spirit rained down, and a sharp slash split into seven paths, flashing brightly.

Three pairs of wings clawed at the air, twisting the spatial axis, changing their trajectory, and crushing the coordinates.

Six arms moved simultaneously, sweeping across the ceiling, walls, and floor-

Ch-ch-ch-ch-cheng!!!!

“Kh…!!!”

Lennok’s expression hardened as he took the brunt of the flash of light that had been aimed at the Spell Master.

It wasn’t just because of the searing pain that shot up his spine as the black crack on his arm was stimulated.

It was because he realized that the technique The Herald wielded contained the martial arts of the Grand General of Brilliance he had seen in the Demonic Realm.

Asura’s Martial Echo. He had only heard the name once, but it was undoubtedly the will-thought technique the Grand General had used.

Was he capable of using such a high-level martial art while claiming to be a herald of the Three Grand Dukes?

The situation had turned into The Grafter and his army of misshapen beings trampling through Yeongheo Palace, cornering the two of them.

“Spell Master…!!”

[Bloodline Ability Activated: Combustion Organ Pyrokinesis]

[Parallel Spellcraft Deployment. Immobility Conjunction Formation, manifest.]

Kwhaaaaak!!!

Wherever The Grafter’s blood-red eyes looked, space began to burn and combust.

With two hands, he formed hand seals and drew a magic circle in the air; with two other hands, he forged the formation, cutting off all kinetic energy.

An immense pressure bore down on Lennok and the Spell Master, pinning them in place, unable to move a single step.

Kwang!!!

Dudududu!!!!

He threw punches with the two arms on his shoulders, while his remaining four arms ceaselessly formed hand seals, chanting spells.

His three heads activated innate abilities with their gaze alone, using psionics to constantly check and pressure Lennok and the Spell Master.

Martial arts, spellcraft, innate abilities.

It was an outrage, unleashing a storm of powers that a single transcendent being should not be able to contain, laying waste to Yeongheo Palace.

The Authority of Grafting. Was he using his authority to cut and paste existing techniques or concepts, allowing him to temporarily borrow the abilities of others?

Kugugugu…!!!!

[Human….]

Stomping on the walls of the ruined palace, giant soldiers, several times larger than humans, revealed themselves.

They wore armor of mist over their smooth, cephalopod-like torsos and carried massive great spears or iron maces.

With hazy gazes, they swung their arms as if to pulverize Yeongheo Palace.

Kwagwagwang!!!!

[Oooooh…!!]

From the sky, the roars of Mechanical Dragons echoed, and harpoons imbued with eerie will-thought rained down in succession.

A barrage that descended at subsonic speeds. A systematic and mechanical movement, as if hunting a giant beast.

The dangerous and intense remnants of [Dragon’s Authority] were inscribed on the harpoons falling with clear killing intent.

「Explode」

「Annihilate」

「Kill」

Pababababang!!!!

The Grafter’s grotesque army charged at full force to kill the Spell Master.

Just as the three-headed, six-armed transcendent being wielded its Authority of Grafting to segment and reassemble space, appearing before the Spell Master…

A blinding white light erupted from the Spell Master’s body, engulfing the corridor of Yeongheo Palace.

Fshaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!

“Ugh…!!!”

It was an immense radiance, like lying on an operating table and staring directly into a giant surgical lamp.

As soon as he lowered his gaze from the intense, eye-stabbing light, a powerful vibration began to surge.

Kwaaaaaaaaa-!!!!!

‘He is deploying this power at the cost of both his hands. What kind of ability does he possess to…!’

Avesta Chapman was a Level 8 Trait-type Spellcaster and one of the most distinguished surgeons on the continent.

In a way, that identity defined him more than his title as a Grand Spell Master of the Alliance.

Those hands that performed surgery must have held the utmost importance to the Spell Master himself.

Yet this was an ability deployed with a Geas that risked damage, at the cost of breaking all the fingers on both his hands.

It wouldn’t be strange if it possessed a power befitting a Trait-type’s status, going beyond mere destructive force.

It was one of the strongest abilities he possessed, one he had mentioned in passing just before they left Gateway City.

A power that was deployed by ‘conjoining’ his Domain and authority, permitted only to the Conjunction Spell Master himself—

“Preparations for surgery, complete.”

Clank!! Drrrrrrrrrk!!!!

Beebeebibibibibi!!!

Gears turned, and the sound of machinery moving could be heard.

A regular signal, like a heart rate monitor, chimed, and in that same moment, his vision brightened completely.

The moment he realized it, Lennok was standing in a vast, sterile white room without a single stain.

“…Where is this?”

An empty space where everything seemed to have been disinfected, sterilized, and erased.

Within it stood Lennok, the Spell Master, and the superhumans who had been pursuing them.

A sense of displacement, as if they had been instantly transported from the middle of Yeongheo Palace’s corridor into this endless room.

“This… is not a Domain.”

The Grafter’s expression turned chilling as he instantly identified the ability the Spell Master had used.

His three heads moved grotesquely, each letting out a different roar.

“You forcibly merged a domain and an authority to crudely imitate an Ideological Domain?”

“This is not a trick a lowly insect should possess!!”

This was the reaction from a transcendent being who, until now, had shown no interest in any human other than Lennok.

The Spell Master, raising his bloodied hands with difficulty, gave a hollow laugh.

“It is my beautiful and hideous failure… that lost its meaning long ago.”

Ooooooooh!!!!!

The Spell Master, floating in the center of the blindingly white room, spoke.

“By combining a domain and an authority, I glimpsed the realm of the Upper Heavens, but I could only stop at a crude imitation. Ascending was not something that could be achieved through simple unification and fusion.”

“…Spell Master.”

“Destruction and creation. Decomposition and fusion. The birth and death of the self. Without rewriting the beginning and the end anew, one cannot earn the qualification.”

Beyond the pale, shadowless lamp that floated like a halo, the Spell Master’s expression seemed to distort with sorrow.

“In the end… it was simply a realm I could never reach with the talent I was born with.”

“…”

“However, even an incomplete, artificial domain can still serve a purpose.”

Slowly raising his broken fingers to point at the ground, the Spell Master spoke.

“Adamant Thunder. From this place, I will send you to the farthest corner of Yeongheo Palace.”

“Such an audacious dream for a foolish mortal.”

Thump!!

The Grafter stepped forward, taking a gleaming blue great katana from the hand of a giant soldier.

The three-headed, six-armed transcendent being, cloaked in three pairs of wings, fixed its six eyes on the Spell Master.

“For a human spellcaster, you have acquired an impertinent ability, but it is merely an imitation of an Ideological Domain.”

“I will make you regret pulling out such a clumsy little trick, you insect…!”

“…”

Kuoooooo!!!!

Beyond the light of the shadowless lamp, the presences of dozens, hundreds of monsters flickered.

Elite soldiers of the Empire, blessed by Yeongheo, their entire bodies mutated into cephalopod-like forms.

They were surrounding Lennok and the Spell Master, crossing the vast, seemingly endless operating room.

“You know nothing.”

But the Spell Master looked at them approaching with a pale face and said,

“You are all already a part of the surgery I am conducting. Do you think a brilliant surgeon like myself would make the elementary mistake of losing control of his patient?”

“Nonsense…!!”

Swiiish!!!!

The katana in The Herald’s hand shot out like lightning and flew through the air.

Surpassing perceivable speed, the blade crossed space and pierced straight through the Spell Master’s body.

Immediately after, harpoons from the Dragon Riders flew from all directions, skewering the Spell Master as he floated in the air.

Papapapabak!!!

“…!!”

The Spell Master made no attempt to dodge the incoming attacks, taking them all with his body.

Lennok flinched at the Spell Master’s defenseless response, but the Spell Master only twitched, not even screaming.

Despite the dozens of harpoons embedded in his body, he remained motionless as he raised his hand.

He flicked his fingers slowly, like placing a syringe against his own arm, revealed by his tied-up sleeve.

“Intravenous anesthetic administered.”

Psst!!

At that moment, the sharp sound of an ampoule piercing flesh came from The Grafter’s arm.

A fleeting, sharp pain. A sense of unease as something rapidly flowed through his veins.

Before he could even identify the foreign substance that had invaded his body, one of The Grafter’s legs gave out as if it had gone limp.

Thump!!

“…!”

The massive three-headed, six-armed body lost its balance and staggered, before falling to one knee.

A sudden loss of sensation that The Grafter himself hadn’t noticed for a moment.

But the Spell Master, even with his body pierced by harpoons, spoke in an unwavering voice.

“Tube intubation. Mana neutralizer superimposed.”

Kwajik!! Kwajik!! Kwajik!!!

Something unseen pierced through the air, through their necks, and instantly entered their throats.

Simultaneously, the Dragon Riders and giant soldiers also began to grab their necks and stagger.

“Oxygen supply cut off. Second resonant anesthetic administered.”

Piiing-!!!!

Thud! Thud!!

The Dragon Riders’ eyes rolled back in their heads, and they collapsed unconscious without so much as a scream.

The massive bodies of the giant soldiers swayed before falling, crushing each other as they tumbled.

The Herald felt his vision swim dizzyingly as he swayed, struggling to find his balance.

“This is…!!! You insect!!!”

“Thoracic incision. Pulmonary artery severed. Mana circuit overload. Visceral organ extraction, commence.”

Chwaaaak!!!

The chests of the Dragon Riders who had collapsed with their eyes rolled back split open, revealing their un-beating, purple hearts.

With a single gesture, the Spell Master opened the chests of the superhumans trapped in the operating room, severed their cardiovascular vessels, and extracted their hearts.

[Kuh, uub…!!]

[Gurgle, gurgle-]

The superhumans mutated into cephalopods tried to resist, twisting their anesthetized bodies, but it was useless.

Every time he waved his bloody, broken hand through the air, the mutated superhumans’ bodies were repeatedly disassembled and dissected.

Their grotesquely mutated innards and organs were scattered across the pristine white floor of the operating room as they writhed with bizarre screams.

“In, sect…!!!!”

The miserable sight of ‘patients’ being dismembered piece by piece while still alive.

At the center of that operating room, the figure of the Spell Master floated alone, conducting the entire process like a conductor.

“Are you forcing a specific surgical procedure on this entire spacetime—!!”

Six arms split open, revealing flesh, and his abdomen was incised, spilling out his intestines.

The sensation of his entire body being dismantled while he was still alive, regardless of his own will.

Finally grasping the ability of the operating room, The Grafter glared at the Spell Master with a chilling gaze.

“Are you mimicking the absoluteness of an Ideological Domain with a crude imitation? How…!!!”

“My ‘Operating Room’ isn’t a convenient space governed by the caster’s desired standards or laws like a real Ideological Domain.”

The Spell Master spoke, waving his bloodied, broken hand.

“The only rule that exists here is the fact that the surgery I have decided upon will be performed. But because that rule includes me as well… no one can defy it.”

“…Don’t tell me.”

“Until the surgery is over, no one, including myself, can leave or enter the operating room, and…”

A pale smile formed on the Spell Master’s lips as he looked at the tube inserted into his own neck.

“Until the surgery is over, it is impossible for anyone to die in here.”

“I can’t believe it…”

Only then did Lennok, realizing the power of the operating room the Spell Master had deployed, feel a shiver run down his spine.

The existence of an operating room created by forcibly ‘conjoining’ a Domain and an authority, an imitation of an Ideological Domain.

Because it was a crude imitation, the laws it contained were infinitely narrower and more limited compared to a true Ideological Domain.

An extremely simple law, with no room for application or change: the surgeon must perform surgery within the operating room.

But the Spell Master had raised this ability to a level comparable to an Ideological Domain by including himself as no exception to that law.

Not only could he perform anesthesia, incisions, extractions, and sutures on his patients, transcending the constraints of spacetime…

But it even had the function of a temporary [Death Immunity], where no being was permitted to die until the surgery was over.

While the ability itself had no killing power, it held ridiculous potential depending on how it was used.

His claim that it was one of the most powerful abilities the Conjunction Spell Master possessed was no bluff.

[Adamant Thunder. Can you hear me?]

“…Chapman.”

[I will send you out of the operating room now.]

The voice seemed to transmit soundwaves directly into his nervous system through bone conduction.

The Spell Master was slowly waving his hand in the air, quietly conveying his will to Lennok.

[It’s just as you heard. The operating room is an artificial Ideological Domain created by honing my Conjunction Spellcraft to its absolute limit. It’s closer to an unfinished, flawed product that achieved a result but could never be completed.]

“…”

[But because of that, conversely, the moment I open the operating room, I become acutely sensitive to the causality of ‘conjunction’ more than anything else.]

The Spell Master said.

[The spacetime within this Yeongheo Palace where the most causality is currently entangled and conjoined… that must be the location of the Corpse Emperor’s mausoleum.]

Avesta Chapman, along with Weian, was a superhuman who possessed a transcendent sensitivity rivaling Lennok’s.

That was why his operating room, based on his transcendent sensitivity, could force the rules of the artificial Ideological Domain upon every being within it.

In that moment, the Spell Master had used his heightened sensitivity to see both inside and outside the operating room and had located the mausoleum.

Just as the Spell Master raised his trembling hand and reached out towards Lennok…

[Now, I will send you there-]

Chwaaak!!!

The blade of a red katana burst through the Spell Master’s stomach, drenching his body in blood.

[…!!!]

“Indeed—it is certainly an impertinent authority for a human spellcaster to possess.”

Thump!!!

The Grafter, having driven the katana in, moved his three heads grotesquely to look down at the Spell Master.

The Herald’s six eyes, glaring at the Spell Master, were rolling around wildly, as if cross-eyed.

A bizarre sight, with his three heads seeming to move independently, as if he were forcibly resisting the anesthetic in his system.

“Because your spellcraft has aspects similar to my authority, it is not without a way to endure.”

“…You.”

“By cutting off a part of my spirit and grafting it onto another timeline, I can divide my consciousness and spirit, thereby dividing the law’s burden.”

The Grafter was resisting and defying the law of the operating room, which was comparable to an artificial Ideological Domain, with his own ability.

Recognizing the similarity between grafting and conjunction, he had instantly applied his authority to find a way to endure, which spoke volumes about how skilled he was in such battles.

“I see… so you can withstand two doses of anesthetic because you have three heads.”

The Spell Master looked down at the katana piercing his stomach and laughed with difficulty.

“Indeed, I had not tested that variable… Next time, I shall find a similar subject and calculate the dosage.”

“Yes. I will acknowledge that you possess a talent worthy of your confidence.”

Six bloodshot eyes looked up at the Spell Master.

The Grafter’s voice and tone became infinitely rougher, yet resonated heavily.

“But your soul is already sustaining irreversible damage. How long do you think you can last?”

“…”

As he said, dark red blood was trickling down from all seven of the Spell Master’s orifices.

Every moment he maintained the artificial Ideological Domain, his brain was being destroyed and broken.

It was only natural.

The operating room the Spell Master had deployed possessed an absurdly fraudulent ability that even surprised Lennok.

Even for a Trait-type Spellcaster who directly handled concepts, using such an unbelievable ability would require risking irreversible damage.

“You’re mistaken. I always make the most efficient choice.”

But the Spell Master laughed, unfazed by The Grafter’s point.

“I have lived my entire life to glimpse a higher realm… and a wizard capable of it is right here…”

“…You bastard.”

“My calculations… were not wrong.”

The Spell Master muttered, blood dripping from his nose.

His slowly raised hand trembled, moving in a direction against his will.

“This… is the most efficient method.”

The Grafter twisted the katana with a chilling expression, and the staggering Spell Master simultaneously reached out his hand.

Grafting and Conjunction.

Two branches of authority, possessing different essences yet similar textures, intersected within a miracle created not by an Ascendant, but by a human.

With a hand that trembled as if in a seizure, the Spell Master opened a part of the operating room, taking the full force of The Grafter’s authority with his own body.

In the blink of an eye, he manipulated the distorted spacetime and instantly teleported Lennok outside the operating room.

Flash!!

Lennok landed in shallow, ankle-deep water and tumbled.

Instantly drenched, Lennok coughed, struggling to spit out water.

“Cough…!!”

Splash!!

Staggering to his feet, Lennok raised his gaze with a weary expression.

“…Spell Master.”

The Conjunction Spell Master had known from the beginning that Lennok would be completely unaffected by the laws of the operating room.

He might not have known about Targeted Resistance, but he must have noticed that Lennok could not be targeted by spellcraft.

That was why, at the decisive moment, he drew the transcendents’ attention to himself, deployed the operating room, and locked himself and them in the same space.

Because he was certain that Lennok could safely escape his operating room and reach his desired destination.

“…”

Why was the Spell Master risking his life to help him to this extent?

Could it be explained simply by saying he liked Lennok’s notoriety or his drive for improvement?

An opponent he had fought to the death in Gateway City. But now, conversely, an ally who had risked his life to help him.

He knew that the distinction between good and evil was meaningless in this world, and he had long known that you couldn’t judge a person by a single standard—

And yet, the Spell Master was one of the most multi-faceted people Lennok had ever known.

Perhaps it was because he harbored a contradiction he himself could not fathom that he was such a powerful Trait-type Spellcaster.

“…Hoo.”

Splash!

His thoughts were long, but his actions were swift.

He could not let the opportunity the Spell Master had created with his life go to waste.

If he believed that sending Lennok was the most efficient choice, then he had to make that judgment a reality.

Crack, crack…!!

With every step, the crack spreading from the black ring ate away at his arm, shattering it.

The searing pain flowing through his arm reverberated in his head, but his mind became clearer.

The spacetime coordinates where the most causality was gathered in Yeongheo Palace, which the Spell Master had realized while deploying the operating room.

The most crucial secret place in this affair, where the secrets desired by the Ascendant and the Three Grand Dukes were hidden.

Lennok was standing before the Corpse Emperor’s mausoleum, located in the deepest part of Yeongheo Palace.

Ooooooooh!!!!

A beautiful temple with a magnificent black cross embedded upside down floated upon a transparent lake.

Candles placed throughout the glass-like lake glowed faintly.

Separate from the turmoil outside, time seemed to have stopped here, and the atmosphere felt somewhat sacred.

Befitting a place intended to house the Corpse Emperor’s body, it was one of the most mystical and beautiful scenes Lennok had ever witnessed.

“This place is…”

But Lennok’s expression hardened as he felt a familiar sense of déjà vu from the scenery of the mausoleum.

The mausoleum of the Grand General, slumbering in the Four Archangel Demonic Mirrors. The ritual space Lennok had encountered the moment he entered it.

“…Quasi-Authority?”

The Corrupted Golden Rule, a Quasi-Authority that observed the cross-section of causality, which he had obtained in the Demonic Realm.

The moment he realized that the Corpse Emperor’s mausoleum bore a striking resemblance to the sanctuary where the Golden Rule had been kept…

Kiiiiiiing-

Just as the Corrupted Golden Rule activated within Lennok, golden melodies began to flow before his eyes.