Chapter 1492: Hunt for the First Apostle (26)
The Crystal Canyon, blood-soaked and littered with debris, centered around the crystal tower that had collapsed at the end of the fierce battle.
In the silence that descended upon the battlefield after all was said and done, the Spell Masters of the Order Alliance were engrossed in the cleanup.
Whoooosh…!!!
A dimensional gate connected to the Order Alliance headquarters opened in the sky above the Crystal Canyon, and Spell Masters moved back and forth through it ceaselessly.
The expressions of the Spell Masters transporting supplies for treatment and cleanup and tending to the casualties were not entirely grim, considering the great war they had just fought.
Despite the deaths of many high-ranking Spell Masters and numerous casualties, the Alliance had ultimately succeeded in killing the First Apostle and incarnating their Leader.
Not only the Spell Masters but also the remaining collaborators were well aware of how significant this outcome was.
Flick—
Lennok sat perched on the collapsed debris, watching the spellcasters move about busily as he lit a cigarette.
He had intended to leave right away but was waiting for the Fairy Conjunction Master, who had promised to organize and provide the access method for the Great Connection.
The Great Connection was the foundation of the Order Alliance’s power and one of the largest spellcraft databases in the world.
Although he had devoured the power of the Great Connection through Ouroboros, he did not yet know how to utilize it properly.
It was indispensable not simply for the power of the Great Connection itself, but for harnessing the knowledge contained within it.
“That smells good. Mind if I bum one?”
With a sly voice, someone plopped down next to Lennok.
“…The Lord of the Valefor Magic Tower.”
“Agh… now that it’s all over, my whole body aches. A moment later, and I would’ve been turned into minced jerky.”
Thick bandages were wrapped tightly all over the grumbling Kalion’s body.
“Did you just get treated from your fight with the Fifth Apostle?”
“That’s right. That old geezer wielded some terrifying swordsmanship, completely unbecoming of his age. I nearly died.”
Kalion shrugged, catching the cigarette Lennok tossed him and muttering.
“For a swordsman of his caliber, he also wielded an extremely powerful ice-type innate ability, which is why my wind magic was almost useless. My magic is incredibly weak against abilities of that sort.”
“It must have been something of an elemental disadvantage.”
The magic of Kalion, Lord of the Valefor Magic Tower, was airflow manipulation. To be precise, it was a form of magic that manipulated atmospheric particles to generate currents.
As a wielder of such magic, his ability was a complete counter to an ice-type innate ability that suppressed particle motion.
He had faced an opponent with a clear elemental advantage, yet he had managed to hold his ground on this battlefield, tying up the Fifth Apostle to the very end.
Kalion, lighting the cigarette in his mouth, grinned as if sensing Lennok’s gaze.
“Oh? I thought I was just complaining, but have you suddenly taken an interest in my skills? Give me a call if you’re interested. A War-Mage never refuses a battlefield, as long as the pay is right. Since you’re a friend of Antares, I’ll even give you a 13% discount.”
“Isn’t that a rather ambiguous discount rate?”
“Do you have any idea how many clients want to commission the Valefor Magic Tower? I could offer discounts down to the decimal point and we’d still be overflowing with orders.”
Chuckling, Kalion raised his gaze, took a drag from his cigarette, and then spoke.
“The investigation into whether there was another mole during the attack on The Nest is almost complete. It seems the one who leaked its location to the cult wasn’t Maorn, but that Pathfinder.”
“…”
“Was his name Abraham? He rushed out with the Iron Lion to face the Third Apostle, then vanished without a trace at some point. Damn it, I should have noticed then.”
“Is that what you came here to tell me?”
“Not interested? Well, it’s all over now. However, it’s true that Maorn tried to secretly steal The Nest’s research data. So while he wasn’t colluding with the cult, he wasn’t entirely framed, either. It’s ironic that the one who killed him was the Eccentric Monk, who was colluding with the cult…”
Kalion leaned back beside Lennok, stretching out his arms and legs as he gazed at the sky and spoke.
“Man, my head is throbbing. Normally, a wind mage like me shouldn’t smoke, since the smell mixes with the wind. But today was just too rough…”
“…”
“It’s been a while since I’ve fought to the point of exhaustion, and a while since I’ve come so close to death. The same goes for meeting so many of the cult’s Apostles.”
Kalion spoke casually, as if in passing.
“And meeting someone who personally knows the Pontiff.”
“…”
He had known.
The moment Lennok returned after meeting the Pontiff through the Priestess, while the Leader and the Second Apostle were fighting.
Kalion and the other collaborators would have surely guessed his purpose to some extent.
But instead of bothering to deny Kalion’s words, Lennok slowly nodded.
He believed that those who had risked their lives in this war deserved to hear at least part of the story.
“You seem interested in the Pontiff. Is there something you want to ask?”
“I used to be.”
Kalion affirmed.
“As I’ve said before, Antares and I were in the same mercenary group long ago. We spent a very long time back then chasing the Pontiff’s trail.”
“…”
“We tried to meet not only the Pontiff himself but even just an acquaintance of his. It’s quite ironic to finally meet one now.”
“You speak as if you’re no longer interested.”
“Perhaps.”
Staring off into the distance, Kalion’s face seemed steeped in regret.
“We went through a lot together. We even saved the world, in our own small way. But now…”
“…”
“Never mind. It’s all meaningless now.”
Finishing the rest of his cigarette, Kalion stood up and looked down at Lennok.
“I have many questions, but I’ll hold my tongue. You’re Antares’s friend, after all. However, if you know the Pontiff, there’s one thing I want to pass on.”
“What is it?”
“The reason we chased the Pontiff’s trail for so long was that we knew the method he used to achieve ascension remained in this world in the form of a ‘Pilgrimage Path’.”
Kalion gazed at Lennok with an utterly calm expression.
“We failed miserably in the end, but we did find the place where the Pilgrimage Path ends. It seems… they call it ‘Heaven’.”
Clank, clank!!
The half-destroyed production plant that had been installed next to the crystal tower was dismantled, its components neatly packed into a bag.
The transport robot carrying the damaged and torn-off parts was also a miserable, blood-spattered sight.
As he approached Betagron, who was busy operating a terminal, Lennok noticed a strange robot nearby.
Compared to the other transport robots moving around the plant, it was far cruder and its performance was inferior.
Instead of working, it just puttered around close to Betagron.
“What is this robot?”
“A robot my grandson made.”
Betagron said calmly, glancing over.
“It was an invention he made on his eighth birthday.”
“…”
Right before his fight with Lennok, the Leader had mentioned that Betagron lost his grandson to the cult.
The reason why Betagron, a man who had never thrown a punch in his life, suddenly began to hate the cult in his old age.
Now, Lennok felt he could understand why without needing an explanation.
“Phew… The cleanup is finally almost done.”
While Lennok remained silent, Betagron, having recovered the armaments he brought, sat down and let out a sigh.
“I really thought I was a goner this time. It still doesn’t feel real that everything turned out like this.”
“You seem quite nonchalant for someone who was nearly killed by the Eccentric Monk.”
“Hm? But you’re still here, aren’t you? So I doubt any problems will arise.”
Betagron picked his nose, looking unconcerned despite being covered in blood.
It was a reaction that hardly matched his miserable appearance, with a hole punched through the front of his clothes where the Eccentric Monk had pierced his heart.
“I never want to get involved in the Order Alliance’s affairs again, but I have to admit they have a good eye for people… If it weren’t for you, would any of this have ended this way?”
Betagron scoffed, watching the Spell Masters clearing the area.
“The moment the Eccentric Monk betrayed us, the crystal tower would have fallen immediately, and we would have all been annihilated by the First Apostle. The very thought of my corpse becoming a test subject for those cult bastards is simply horrifying.”
“…”
“And on top of that, I thought it was all over when we captured the Second Apostle! For the Leader to suddenly possess his body, fight you, and then lose… I feel like I’ve been bewitched. Do you always go around experiencing such bizarre things?”
“I don’t know what you take me for.”
Lennok said, raising his gaze.
“My victory was the result of several conditions aligning perfectly. If both the Leader and I had been at our peak, the fight probably wouldn’t have proceeded this way.”
“Hm?”
“The Leader exposed many of his abilities while fighting the First Apostle. Thanks to that, I was able to enter the fight with some understanding of how to counter him.”
Although he had overwhelmed the Leader and ended the fight the moment he used Super Fusion, that was only possible because he knew the Leader’s abilities and identity.
If he had faced the Leader without any prior information, he wouldn’t have been able to dismantle his limitless mana or the power of his Ideological Domain so easily.
Moreover, though the Leader was a being formed from the fusion of an Old World Ascendant and one from the current world, he had not properly used a single one of ‘Seonjong’s’ abilities.
The powers of Recursion and Serenity, which Faud Older, Seonjong, was known to possess—the ability to correct what is wrong.
He was likely unable to use them in his battle with Lennok because he was using them to control the Second Apostle’s body.
“With both of us exhausted, the cards the Leader could play were limited. Once the fight entered the realm of principles and concepts, my victory was assured. All I had to do was guide the situation to that point.”
“…”
“Well, even if things hadn’t gone that way, I had no intention of losing regardless… Why are you looking at me like that?”
“…No reason.”
Betagron said, looking up at Lennok with a dubious expression.
“I just realized what a true wizard you are. I’ve never seen anyone display such infuriating false modesty in my entire life.”
“…”
“Truly, you are a strange man. That Talent for Reversing Heaven, and a humanity that doesn’t suit it in the slightest. It’s like I’m looking not at a person, but at a divine being descended from the heavens.”
Betagron’s gaze deepened.
“But perhaps that is why you are acquainted with an absolute being like the Pontiff.”
“…”
“Don’t worry. I know that even if you’re acquainted with the Pontiff, you aren’t colluding with him. If you were, you wouldn’t have spared the Leader right then and there.”
Slowly rising to his feet, Betagron silently placed a hand over his heart.
“So, I just wanted to express my gratitude. I will never forget that you saved me from the Eccentric Monk today. Thank you. Truly.”
“…Of course.”
Having witnessed the war to its end, Betagron knew Lennok’s relationship with the Pontiff was not one of simple animosity.
He also knew that Lennok had participated in this war to speak with the Pontiff at the final moment, and that the Leader had interrogated him about that fact.
But Betagron decided to let the matter rest and not question Lennok further.
“It looks like the others will be heading to the Dimensional Corridor soon. What are your plans?”
“I’ve already received what I needed from the Fairy Conjunction Master. They’ll settle the remaining payment with my Magic Tower.”
“Then… we part ways here?”
“It seems so.”
Lennok said, turning away.
“However, I sought you out because I have one last thing to say before I leave.”
“Hm?”
“You seem to be wandering the continent without a destination. If you don’t have one set, you should go to Vulcan.”
Lennok smiled at the bewildered Betagron.
“Even to my eyes, your skill in crafting military armaments is exceptionally brilliant. The ability to assemble and design a production plant in real time during a war is not something any ordinary inventor can do.”
“…”
“My Magic Tower has plenty of odd characters, but an eccentric old man like yourself should have no trouble fitting in. A similar Tower Lord… no, a similar person has already visited the tower.”
“My, calling someone eccentric to their face… How incredibly rude.”
Betagron picked his nose.
“I think you’re mistaken. I already belong to an organization. Are you trying to scout me, a member of The Designers?”
“This is usually how headhunting works.”
“Khk! Pwahahaha!!! Well, I suppose that’s true.”
Betagron burst out laughing and said.
“No, it’s actually a strange feeling… I never expected a great wizard like you to make such an offer to someone else.”
“I’m not in the habit of handling everything myself.”
“Is that so? The other Transcendents I’ve met don’t seem to think that way.”
Betagron let out a short laugh and spun around.
“But that subtle difference between you and the other Transcendents is certainly interesting.”
“…”
“I appreciate the offer. I will consider it favorably.”
“Isn’t that what people say when they’re refusing?”
“Hahaha!! Is it?”
Letting out a small laugh at Betagron’s hearty laughter, Lennok turned and walked in the opposite direction.
On this breathless journey toward the end, many things were changing rapidly.
Everything happening on the Central Front was becoming increasingly unpredictable and dangerous.
But despite all that, if there was one thing Lennok had to prioritize right now…
…it was to attain transcendence as Victor and reach the journey’s end.
His decision made, Lennok let out a light breath and walked forward.
It was time to head for the Second Gate.
Beep—Beep—
In a vast, nameless underground cavern, a rhythmic beeping echoed.
A bizarre creature made entirely of tentacles walked down a corridor alongside a young man.
“…The signal has come.”
The young man stopped and raised his gaze.
“The First Apostle… has departed. I can no longer feel his faith.”
“To be able to choose one’s own end in this world is a blessing in itself.”
Wriggling the tentacles on his face, Camlodal answered slowly.
“We did not see eye to eye on the direction of the cult, but he was a man who deserved respect nonetheless. He fulfilled his duty to the very end.”
“…”
“He was an astonishingly brilliant warrior and an unprecedentedly perfect Apostle in the cult’s history. The cult will continue to mourn his death and miss him for a long time to come.”
Camlodal murmured quietly as he walked down the darkened corridor.
“But, despite that, we must continue to move forward.”
“…”
“What happened to the Third Apostle?”
“He fell into a mad rampage, but he was led away from the battlefield with the Pathfinder’s cooperation. I was told they were able to lure him away because the Pathfinder possessed a fragment of an armament the Third Apostle used during the Holy War.”
“Ah… the one from the Pioneer organization? True, without something like that, a mere human could never have led the Third Apostle off the battlefield alone.”
The Eighth Apostle, Camlodal, spoke slowly, the tentacles covering his face writhing.
“The Third Apostle’s only weakness is his excessive attachment to memories and objects from the Holy War… It couldn’t be helped, since we reawakened one who should have long since become a beast, but hearing that name brings back old memories.”
“…”
“How my heart pounded when Odin Mayers found the location of our headquarters… We should have won the Holy War then. It’s a shame. Don’t you agree?”
“That’s from a time before I served as an Apostle, so I wouldn’t know…”
“Enough with the pretense. Upon receiving the seat of an Apostle, you inherit a portion of your predecessor’s memories.”
Camlodal cut the young man off with a cynical sneer.
“That is also why the First Apostle chose this war as his grave. He dedicated himself to Him for a very long time and was worn down over that same long stretch of time.”
“…”
“Of course, he was a more outstanding Apostle than anyone else, so he was able to endure for a very long time… but now the time has come to cede his place to a new successor.”
“…I have heard that the Second Apostle was the greatest warrior in the cult’s history. I am not certain if a successor can replace such a being.”
“No, they can be replaced. If the Alliance could create a new Grand Spell Master, then the cult can certainly do so as well. If He desires it, it will surely be done.”
Camlodal stopped walking and asked.
“Is that not why we have come to this place?”
“…”
“The Second Apostle was a truly brilliant Apostle. So much so that he used his own death as an opportunity to break the chains that bound Him… Even I cannot hope to match his ingenuity.”
The Eighth Apostle slowly raised his gaze and said.
“But thanks to his sacrifice, He has finally begun to turn His gaze upon the world… and just like now, the long-forgotten powers of the cult will return, one by one.”
R-r-rumble…!!!
Far in the distance, from the other end of the corridor, a freezing chill spread ominously.
A power so immense that the two highest-ranking Apostles of the cult standing here dared not even approach it.
Yet even that was but a fragment of the spellcraft created to seal the being sleeping within.
“Contact the headquarters. Report to the Eleventh Priestess, word for word, exactly as I say.”
Staring into the darkness, Camlodal’s eyes gleamed with an indescribably sinister light.
“Tell them we have found the First Apostle’s ‘Fate Sealing’ at the very bottom of the Sea of Understanding.”