Chapter 431: Palace of Memory (1)
A bizarre tinnitus rang out the moment the door was burst open.
Beep…!!
A disturbing noise echoed through the eerily quiet street near the workshop.
It was immediately obvious that this was a trick to naturally drive away people.
Thud!!
Lennok threw the man, bound by magical threads, onto the asphalt. Simultaneously, a dozen or so men and women quietly emerged from various points on the street.
Lennok smiled, looking at the people standing in neat formation, as if surrounding the workshop.
“Kept you waiting.”
Though dressed in ordinary clothes to avoid drawing attention, their unique, refined, and subdued aura could not be hidden.
These were priests of the Guido Cult directly operating in the field. And not just any priests, but fanatics who had completely accepted the doctrine and made it their guiding principle.
It was his first time encountering so many at once, but it wasn’t hard to recognize them.
“It’s fine. I’m used to waiting.”
Amila Bainjer, who had been leisurely scrutinizing Lennok’s face, replied.
“Nice to meet you, Evan. I’m Amila Bainjer. You can just call me Amila.”
Smiling widely, she extended a hand and spoke again.
“I have something I’d like to say, do you perhaps have some time? It won’t be bad news for you either.”
Lennok smiled faintly, lifted a finger, pointed to his ear, and asked.
“The music box sound. Can you hear it well?”
Only then did the cult’s hymn slowly begin to become audible to the other priests’ ears.
The priests, realizing their identities had been instantly exposed, subtly hardened their expressions, and Amila let out a deep sigh.
“I tell you, too much faith can be a problem. Even when I tell them to leave behind all items that might leave a trace, none of them listen properly.”
“……”
“Well, I didn’t intend to hide for long anyway. We’re not very good at concealing our identities. If it were about keeping quiet and blending into the crowd, maybe, but even more so when acting directly like this.”
Amila dusted off her knees, stood up, and grinned.
“Shall I reintroduce myself? I am Amila Bainjer, Bishop and Branch Manager of the Guido Cult’s Northeast Sector. Now you can call me Bishop Bainjer.”
“Understood, Amila.”
“……You’re not very good at listening either, are you?”
Amila said that, then raised her hand and flicked her wrist.
At her gesture, the other priests naturally stepped forward, and a tense atmosphere began to settle.
Clank, clank!
The priests began to take out their various equipment from within their robes.
Grim-sounding bone saws, long and sharp skewers and stakes, ceremonial knives with only one sharpened edge, and even large scythes seemingly made to sever a human neck.
These were weapons clearly designed to overwhelm an opponent, differing from the tools typically used by superhumans in the city’s underworld who prioritized efficient combat.
Cassia, standing behind, swallowed hard at the oppressive sight, and Pavlen Atwood quickly stepped forward in front of Lennok.
“……?”
Lennok raised an eyebrow at Atwood’s completely unexpected movement.
Atwood, gathering magic in both hands, bravely shouted at the priests.
“How dare impudent cultists covet the talent of Rebatenon!!”
“……”
“Assistant Professor Vylun’s intellect is a treasure irreplaceable in this city, and surely you know that you are not the only ones who wish to be associated with that brilliance?!”
“……”
His bold declaration was unbelievable coming from someone who, just moments ago, hadn’t even realized Lennok was the author of the thesis.
Cassia, too, blinked her eyes, her tense expression completely gone.
“Already, countless investors, including myself, are awaiting a decision to join the assistant professor. If you intend to abduct the professor, you’ll have to get through me first!!”
Even in this situation, he subtly included himself in the group of investors and appealed, even flattering Lennok by elevating his title to “Professor.”
The words flowing from Atwood’s mouth sounded incredibly natural, as if he had thought them for a long time.
Lennok couldn’t help but admire Atwood’s blatant opportunism, shifting his stance as easily as breathing.
“A noble’s son indeed, with such eloquent speech. But isn’t your true intention a bit too obvious?”
“……Today, I will not let you Guido Cultists go unpunished!!”
Atwood, forcibly ignoring Lennok’s words, immediately formed hand signs and began to chant.
[Linked Chariot Wind]
[Overflowing Duckweed Tools]
Thump-thump-thump-thump!!!
The magical system Pavlen Atwood used was of the airflow type, possessing the attribute of wind.
It was a secret art that honed the flow, speed, and sharpness of the omnipresent atmosphere and wind to its extreme, manifesting its power in various ways.
Atwood’s gesture instantly brought forth wind wolves from beneath his feet, galloping across the road, and blades of wind began to descend upon the priests’ heads.
Simultaneously, powerful winds swirled around the area, converging at Atwood’s fingertips, transforming into a massive sphere of wind.
[Wind Moon]
Kieeeeeng!!
The concentrated airflow between his hands manifested with the chant, sweeping through the entire area.
A gigantic moon-like shape appeared in the middle of the quiet street. By merely controlling the airflow, he created an immense sphere of wind, exerting tremendous pressure on the spot.
Kwooaaahhh!!
Before combat even officially began, he was reshaping the environment to his advantage and restricting the enemy’s movements.
As befitting a noble’s son, he seemed to have undergone basic combat training, and roughly understood how a wizard should conduct offense and defense.
Seeing the priests unable to move easily from their positions, raising their equipment, Atwood grinned triumphantly.
“Hahahah! Even if they are cult warriors, before the mighty Atwood’s magic…!!”
At that moment, a figure shot through the wind like lightning and kicked Atwood directly in the stomach.
Thwack!!
“Urgh…!!”
Atwood’s body bent into a sharp angle, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.
Foam mixed with saliva flowed from his trembling lips.
Thud!
The attacker seized Atwood’s collar mid-air as he weakly fell, then ruthlessly swung a hand towards the back of his head.
A sharp strike capable of instantly shattering Atwood’s skull.
At that instant, a flash of light erupted from behind Atwood, sweeping over and engulfing the attacker.
Clang!!
“That’s enough.”
“Cough!!”
The man who had been lying at Lennok’s feet shot out like a rocket, slamming into the attacker trying to kill Atwood.
The man who had been propelled himself seemed to have no intention of it, as both of them, entangled, groaned in pain.
With the two men sprawling, limbs and joints broken, Lennok, who had pulled Atwood closer with magical threads, spoke.
“I’m sorry, but I have nothing to discuss with the Guido Cult. I have more than enough investors for the research results of the thesis elsewhere.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. I thought you weren’t very interested in this kind of thing, just stupidly watching.”
Amila smiled faintly.
“Well, I didn’t expect a positive answer. But once your arms and legs are broken, you might think differently.”
“……”
Clank!!
The dozen or so priests slowly began to move, raising their equipment towards the defenseless wizard.
The opponent was merely an assistant professor at a university. And a spirit user, at that, with no physical abilities whatsoever.
If they could get the first strike before he summoned his spirits, the outcome of the battle was as good as decided.
As long as they kept his head and heart intact, extracting information was possible by any means.
Amila, from behind them, slowly began to form hand signs and spoke.
“If all else fails, locking them in a back room and playing the cult’s hymn at 128x speed works pretty well. I think it’s a terribly crude method, but it always seems to be effective.”
“E-Evan…?”
Cassia, her face tense again after Atwood’s untimely blunder, asked.
“I’ll buy you some time, but shouldn’t Evan run away first…?”
Lennok slowly glanced at the approaching priests, then quickly asked Cassia.
“Do you have any practical combat experience?”
“……Not none. But if it’s just to hold them back…!”
“Then I’ll do it.”
Lennok interrupted Cassia.
“As I said earlier, I had many different experiences before I started this assistant professorship.”
“Ah, I heard that too, Evan.”
Amila added from behind the priests.
“You were an explorer collecting artifacts, weren’t you? Unfortunately, you’ll find it difficult to handle our kids with just that kind of experience.”
“……”
Had she been eavesdropping on the conversation between Lennok and Cassia inside the workshop? It wasn’t unexpected, but he hadn’t thought she would openly mention it here.
However, instead of being flustered by her words, Lennok reached into his pocket.
Although he was primarily recognized for his thesis work, Evan Vylun was officially a spirit user.
Naturally, he had prepared dozens of tactics for combat scenarios under Evan’s identity.
Just as Lennok was about to channel his magic, feeling a slight anticipation for the first demonstration of a spirit art he hadn’t had a chance to use yet.
“Davi, let’s start with Formation E, as promised…”
[Booo….]
“……Davi?”
[Boo.]
Lennok faltered at Davi, who was only repeating whimpers as if having forgotten how to speak.
Though Davi had obediently crawled out at Lennok’s touch, he looked slightly listless.
After a split-second of rapid deliberation, Lennok unhesitatingly withdrew Davi.
“……Come here.”
[……?]
He pulled the floating Davi into one arm, who had been about to unleash magic, and stroked his head.
“If you’re not feeling well, I’ll do it myself. Don’t worry.”
It was not clearly verified how a spirit’s condition was affected by its environment.
However, if the tinnitus the cult was spreading through the streets, or the inexplicable fanatic energy, was deteriorating Davi’s condition, there was no reason to overwork the spirit.
Thinking so, Lennok roughly stroked Davi’s head and chin, then began to step forward himself.
As Lennok stroked, Davi’s head rubbed adorably, and at the same time, Davi’s tail straightened and rose up energetically.
[……!!]
Flash!
At that moment, Davi darted out of Lennok’s arms, instantly streaking through the air above the priests’ heads, and began madly spewing electricity.
[Initiating Formation EMP!!]
Fizzzzzzzzzz!!!!
As a vast electric field erupted around the cyber spirit, all the power in the surrounding area converged on the spirit.
[Booo… Wooooooong!!]
Pshwoooosh…!!
A brilliant blue wave spread outwards in circular concentric rings, like a flood.
Traffic lights, streetlights, and commercial building lights instantly went out, plunging the entire street into a blackout.
In the street, suddenly engulfed in darkness, brilliant blue lightning bolts struck the priests’ heads with precision.
Crackle, crackle!!!
“Ugh, wait…!”
“Can’t avoid…!!”
“Be careful, if it’s a spirit user, surely… huh?”
The priests, who had been cowering from the relentless lightning strikes of the spirit, slowly began to stand up with bewildered expressions.
This was because the sheer power of the attack from an electric-type spirit was not that strong.
It was an attack that was barely more than a tingle.
For a wide-area attack that plunged the entire street into a blackout, it was anticlimactically weak.
“Well, this is it.”
Amila nodded, her expression not at all surprised.
Though he was a rare spirit user, the likelihood of him being high-level was low.
No, if Evan Vylun had been a powerful spirit user from the start, he would have gained far greater fame than just an assistant professor at Rebatenon University.
Moreover, the piercing tinnitus they were incessantly ringing through the streets was an item that severely disrupted the concentration of anyone other than the cult’s priests.
It was only natural that there would be limits to what one could achieve by wits in such a situation.
[Pant, pant… I did my best….]
The spirit, tongue lolling out as if exhausted, slumped in Lennok’s arms.
Amila looked at Davi as if he were cute.
“What a delightful child. Was there a cage in the cult’s warehouse for isolating spirits…?”
“He’s not something a fanatic can covet.”
Lennok muttered coldly and took a step forward.
“The battle is already over.”
Amila laughed.
“So, once you’ve listened to 100 hours of the cult’s gospel on repeat, you’ll say the same—!”
Kieeeeeng!!
At that moment, Amila’s vision suddenly went dark, and she couldn’t hear anything.
Her limbs thrashed uncontrollably, and even her senses seemed broken, refusing to obey.
“Kuheo….”
As her body tilted forward, the priests, whose eyes suddenly rolled back, one by one collapsed forward with strange groans.
Thud!! Thud!!
The sight of the priests convulsing and frothing at the mouth was completely contrary to that of the fanatics who had been charging forward with fierce determination just moments before.
“Oh… what?”
Amila, sprawling on the floor, tilted her head and asked.
“How… did you do that? It’s awkward to say myself, but our cult members usually aren’t affected by most mental attacks.”
“Is that so?”
“Whether it’s an illusion or a hallucination, it wouldn’t work well on them in the first place. If you chanted a powerful spell strong enough to penetrate our doctrine… I wouldn’t be unaware of it.”
Amila, who was calmly asking about his trick even at this moment when the tide of battle had instantly turned, was also not in her right mind.
“I tampered with their bioelectricity a bit.”
Lennok replied, pulling out a self-defense pistol from his pocket.
It wasn’t his dedicated equipment as Van, but something he carried in case of unforeseen circumstances while operating under Evan’s name.
Clack!!
A simple slide-action pistol. Lennok, having loaded it, placed the muzzle against the heads of the fallen priests and pulled the trigger one by one.
Bang! Bang!
The priests died in vain, unable to resist at all.
Amila merely stared at it, seemingly more curious about Lennok’s answer.
While buying time to kill all the priests, Lennok also willingly spoke.
After all, the longer this dragged on, the more advantageous it was for Lennok.
“I established a powerful electric field through the spirit’s magic resonance ability. Then I scattered electromagnetic pulses throughout the area that could interfere with bioelectricity. Just disrupting the nervous system and confusing their senses is enough for success.”
For a moment, Amila blinked, not understanding what Lennok was saying.
“You mean you forcibly knocked them out by altering their human senses… Does that even make sense?”
This was never something possible merely by possessing a powerful spirit art.
It required a deep understanding of the body’s nervous system and bioelectricity, along with powerful lightning manipulation abilities comparable to that knowledge.
He was speaking casually about something that could only be attempted if one had reached a level of playing with magic that transcended fields and domains.
There was no need to explain how difficult it was to convert and manipulate magic-generated lightning to interfere with human bioelectricity.
It wasn’t just a simple property transformation of magic; it was something that would require a complete overhaul of its entire system and lineage, otherwise—
“Who are you?”
Only then did Amila’s eyes sharpen, instantly realizing that the wizard before her was far more skilled than she had imagined.
“You’re definitely not just a smart researcher…!!”
Bang!!
“I know how the Guido Cult generally indoctrinates people with their doctrines.”
Lennok shot the gun in front of her eyes to silence her, then spoke other words.
“They rigorously train their bodies and minds until the doctrine is literally carved into their bones, so their sensory organs are already messed up, which paradoxically makes them easier to manipulate.”
Bang!!
“Rather than directly touching their minds, which are firmly armored with fanaticism.”
“……”
Lennok, who had summarily shot dead over ten priests with just a pistol and no significant magic, dusted off his hands and stood up.
Thump!!
He placed a hand on Amila’s head, the last survivor, and channeled his magic.
Amila, realizing what Lennok was about to do, grinned.
“You want to see my memories? It won’t work.”
“No, it’s possible. I’ve already tried it once on one of your missionaries.”
“……What?”
Lennok smiled, looking at Amila, whose smile had completely vanished.
“I don’t even need to break through your mental barrier. It’s enough to deliver the necessary stimulus to overwhelm the mind and then observe the most clearly emerging images in that state.”
“Wait, then… could it be that you were the one who killed Walter Martinez…!!”
“Let’s begin.”
Lennok hadn’t just subdued the other priests and killed them one by one, then captured Amila, for no reason.
Just as he had read Walter Martinez’s Mind Imprint to ascertain the location of Palgung Fortress where he was hiding,
Lennok intended to do precisely the same thing to Amila this time.
As the violet mystic eye rotated, a sharp intent delved into Amila’s mind.
It passed through the mental barrier forged by the cult’s doctrine and instantly reached its foundation.
As his consciousness extended through pillars of pure white light, he connected to her memories, manifesting the data directly.
This memory retrieval was impossible without the powerful computational assistance of the cyber spirit.
At that moment, the form of a pure white palace unfolded before Lennok’s eyes.
Fwoosh!!
By the time she came of age, she was already a child of the cult.
In exchange for food and clothing, she learned doctrines and had her aptitudes evaluated.
Her friends disappeared every quarter, but the orphanage director only said they had gone to a better place.
As she grew older and her mind hardened, she knew it was a lie, but it didn’t matter.
Was the cult’s doctrine correct?
Were the beings from the Outer Seas truly gods approaching to save them?
Was their paradise truly beyond that closed sky?
Being intelligent, she knew no one could give her proper answers to any of these questions.
And precisely because of that, she chose to accept the doctrine based on her own judgment and embody it.
After all, if there was no definitive answer, choosing which side to stand on wasn’t difficult.
That conviction shattered during the festival commemorating the cult’s 100th anniversary, after she met the Pontiff directly.
Even from afar, mixed among tens of thousands of believers, she knew.
The man in white robes, sitting at the center of the Pantheon, gazing down at them with benevolent eyes, was undoubtedly a being worthy of such worship.
Perhaps it was from that moment that Amila Bainjer began striving to get even a little closer to that position—
“Did you say Evan…?”
Snap.
The consciousness broke.
Grand music and an endless procession.
In the midst of that internal landscape, where ancient memories played out like a movie.
The Pontiff, who should have been merely a part of that memory, turned his gaze towards this side.
“Welcome. I thought a day like this would come.”