Chapter 820: The Knot (7)

Swaaah!!

The night street was so quiet it felt deafening.

Only the surging river water pouring overhead flowed in, disorienting his senses.

The wizard lay fallen beneath the shattered canal, as Croken’s form advanced towards Lennok.

Each heavy footstep echoed, causing the very ground to slowly tremble and sink deeper.

Lennok’s struggling form was suddenly, roughly lifted into the air.

Thwip!!

“You were like this in the well, too. It’s truly difficult to see you move without struggling.”

Beyond his water-blurred vision, reptilian pupils gleamed.

Croken had approached without a sound, gripping Lennok’s neck with a tail as thick as rebar, lifting him clear.

Croken glared at Lennok, who weakly coughed up water.

“This is boring. I didn’t keep you alive just to see this.”

“Cough…!!”

Crunch!!

Croken’s firm tail wrapped around Lennok’s neck and tightened its hold instantly.

That simple gesture alone felt like it would instantly cut off his breath.

As Croken glared at Lennok, arms folded, a faint flicker of killing intent mixed in his eyes.

“Before some other bastard kills you, perhaps I should do the honors…?”

Whoosh…!!

Beneath Lennok’s feet, a pure white radiance flared, as if to shield him from Croken.

Sacred-attribute magic formed a hemispherical barrier, enveloping Lennok on the spot.

“An angel’s magic, is it?”

But Croken crushed the barrier with a single kick, muttering indifferently.

Snap!!

“From what it babbled to me, it seemed to know a thing or two… but then again, that’s not my concern.”

“…”

Among the things Kashuin had said about Croken, was there anything that had piqued his interest?

He knew they had exchanged telepathic transmissions during the struggle, but Lennok had been too desperate to catch every word.

But instead of dwelling on what he couldn’t ask Croken right now, Lennok struggled to turn his head and survey his surroundings.

‘…Oris is gone.’

The Inquisitor spirit he had with him when falling from the tower was nowhere to be seen.

From the moment he fell near the canal, he had considered summoning Oris’s Ghost Shark to escape, but now it was clear.

At this point, it was utterly meaningless.

So, Lennok focused on the words Croken had thrown at him.

“This ‘message’ the Director left… what is it?”

“What do you think it is?”

“…”

“If anything comes to mind, blurt it out.”

Seeing Lennok struck speechless, Croken laughed.

“If you give me an answer I like, I might just tell you.”

As he spoke, the moment Croken tightened the tail constricting Lennok.

Swish!!

Lennok’s form vanished from Croken’s sight.

Lennok expended a Blink spell to escape the water, struggling to expel the water from his lungs.

Croken, who had casually swept his tail and leaned back, his eyes gleamed.

“Body transformation? No, spatial transference.”

“Cough…!!”

“Wielding spatial magic without a hint of a precursor. Ha, his mana manipulation truly is flawless….”

Even amidst this, as if Lennok’s quick thinking secretly pleased him, Croken awaited an answer, his tail wagging.

He needed to quickly think of an answer before that highly impulsive attitude changed as swiftly as a flipped palm.

What he could say to Croken now was, in any case, already decided.

“Mugan… the Sanctuary…”

Lennok looked at him and muttered with difficulty.

“The curses…”

“Ah, so you saw it after all.”

Croken, realizing instantly what Lennok was about to say, let out a chuckle.

“They are the ancient signs that a long journey has ended.”

“…”

“Don’t worry about it. Even if it’s bound by such restraints, it’ll be enough to play with you.”

“…No.”

Hiss!!

From his soaked belongings, Lennok selected an intact ampoule, injected it into his shoulder, and replied.

He desperately caught his breath, maintaining a steady rhythm so as not to be overwhelmed by the monstrous aura before him.

“You didn’t come here to break curses.”

“…”

The decisive battle with the Ascendant Dorye. Yorta’s reconstruction plan, centered around the Pontiff’s vessel. The new future for the Military Spirit City that the spirits of the Court of Soul Pacification had dreamed of.

But Croken’s actions, appearing only after everything was concluded, had many incomprehensible aspects.

If Croken had intended to eliminate the curses residing in Mugan, his actions should have been far swifter than this.

But he only revealed himself after Mugan’s Sanctuary had completely collapsed, and after Lennok had escaped and been apprehended by the Court of Soul Pacification.

If Croken’s purpose was to resolve the curses observed in Mugan, this was difficult to comprehend.

Therefore, Lennok had come to believe that this monster’s purpose in coming to Yorta was, in fact, precisely the opposite.

“On the contrary… wasn’t it to confirm?”

Lennok said quietly.

“Whether the curses binding him remained intact, even after the curse’s sanctuary was shattered—”

Bang!!

With just the wind pressure from a flick of his tail, Lennok’s form tumbled against the stone embankment at the bottom of the canal.

“Gah…!!”

His mana and will-thought were utterly depleted, his body pushed to the absolute limit by the side effects of overusing elixirs.

But Lennok knew that to preserve his life, he couldn’t afford to waste any remaining energy on such minor skirmishes.

If Croken Asylus intended to kill Lennok then and there, what Lennok needed to guard against wasn’t this kind of trivial show of force.

The moment Croken unleashed his full will-thought to crush Lennok—only that precise instant would be his chance to evade and escape.

But Croken, seeing Lennok, instead burst into a hearty, incredulous laugh.

“Even amidst this, you’re measuring the gaps, trying to react. Every time I see it, I think you’re truly an odd one. Are you really that wizard who used to flounder in the factories?”

“…”

“The sight of you flailing around, clueless, is vivid in my mind… Ah, well, that hasn’t changed even now.”

Not forgetting to sneer at Lennok even then, Croken strode forward.

Thud!

He pressed a foot down on Lennok, who lay tumbling helplessly on the canal floor, and spoke.

“The Director knows you. He said he’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”

“…”

“You know who the Director is too, don’t you? You say nothing, but I feel it.”

Through the shadowy folds of his robe, Croken’s pupils slowly rotated as he gazed at Lennok’s water-soaked face.

“You’re not merely some exceptionally talented kid. You’re far more complex than that… like a standard.”

“A standard…?”

As Lennok, his gaze blurred, questioned that incomprehensible remark, Croken drew a light breath.

“Every time I see you, I add another reason in my mind.”

“…”

“Until now, it’s been somewhat enjoyable weighing things… but it’s slowly drawing closer.”

Croken laughed.

“Will it be clear next time? By then, the Director will have made a decision too.”

Leaving Lennok, who offered no reply, Croken slowly lifted the foot that had been pressing him down and spoke.

“But for now, it seems I can postpone it a little longer.”

“…”

“An unsettling intuition, an inexplicable nature, skill that has reached a profound realm… every single one is a quality too precious to erase immediately.”

“…What in the world do you want?”

Lennok struggled to turn his head and meet Croken’s gaze.

“You don’t empathize with the Director’s grand scheme. You have little interest in the goals Pandemonium shares.”

“…”

“Wandering the continent as you please, gathering, saving, and killing those like me… do you intend to wait for the conclusion?”

When he first met Croken, he believed they shared common goals with Pandemonium.

Now, Lennok knew well that this monster did not operate based on ordinary gains and losses.

Tangible and intangible values like money, desire, pleasure, or conviction were merely fleeting amusements for this man.

He was not bound by the tools needed to live in the moment, nor interested in the answers required to seek eternity.

The only beings that truly held his interest were those who had transcended the ordinary, like the Director or Lennok, or those with the potential to do so.

This seemed, at first glance, similar to Myeong, who sought out talented individuals across the continent, yet it was driven by entirely different motives.

But Croken, as soon as he heard Lennok’s answer, burst into hearty laughter.

“For the likes of us, that isn’t waiting, rookie. That’s something we have to go out and find.”

“…”

“Long ago, there was a journey to find it, and I made a decision.”

Croken said.

“It was because I acknowledged that to understand myself, I had to challenge a feat no one had ever succeeded at.”

“…”

“This now is merely the process of confirming and reiterating that conclusion from back then. So you, too, should hurry.”

Leaving Lennok in silence, Croken unhesitatingly turned his back.

“Just as with this city, ancient things never truly vanish without losing their power… they are destined to reappear in their place eventually.”

“…You directly shattered Yorta’s core, and now I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Lennok, for a moment, forgot his current predicament and retorted.

“Do you think the Military Spirit City can rise again?”

“Rookie, after visiting Mugan’s Sanctuary, are you still unaware?”

Croken scoffed at Lennok.

“The Memorial Tower lost its essence and became a mere wedge, and the ghosts banished from the Night Parade are bound there, sleeping like mice. So what I did was….”

Flash!!

At that moment, behind the alligator giant, a dazzling pillar of mist surged, brightly illuminating the darkened sky.

In response, eerie mists surged up from various parts of Yorta, awakening across the city.

BOOM!!!

A giant, wreathed in hazy mist, rose from the city’s outskirts and surveyed its surroundings.

At the end of a vast, distant staircase, a noble appeared, riding a palanquin and leading thousands of Military Spirits.

Eerie, wolf-like roars echoed, and wings flapped with ear-splitting screams.

HWOOOO…!!!

An overwhelming presence, as if powerful spirits awakened from deep underground had all simultaneously stirred from their slumber and were now striding across the surface.

Without even glancing back at the ancient spirits awakening and rising all around the city, Croken replied.

“All I’m doing is waking up old losers and tossing them back onto this land.”

“…”

Powerful Military Spirits like Madrich Onnion or Oris, who were banished from the Night Parade.

Forcibly awakening those ancient exiles, bound and sleeping in the underground levels, and unleashing them back into this city?

As Lennok felt the countless spirit presences surge from the underground levels with dazzling waves, he was struck speechless.

“Before the power unleashed across this continent fully manifests, you’d do well to reach a conclusion.”

Croken walked past Lennok, continuing towards the far side of the canal.

“If you hesitate, there might not even be a chance left to challenge.”

Whoosh…!!

Beyond the rising water mist, the alligator giant’s ominous presence vanished.

Having single-handedly toppled Yorta’s Memorial Tower, and having utterly ravaged the city’s central district.

And having unleashed power and souls even greater than what he himself had shattered, back into this city.

As if he held no lingering regrets or sentiments about any of it, he abruptly intended to vanish without a trace.

As always, only the traces of destruction he left behind were the sole evidence defining and characterizing Croken Asylus.

But Lennok, despite knowing all this, ultimately couldn’t call out to Croken, and quietly mulled over his words.

“…A challenge, he said.”

Surely the ‘challenge’ Croken spoke of wasn’t some simple experiment or trial and error.

Since when had he realized it? The moment Lennok escaped Mugan? Or the point he defeated Dorye and survived?

No, perhaps from the moment he witnessed Lennok’s talent, he might have already foreseen this outcome.

Since he had journeyed with a precognitive, seeking answers. Perhaps he understood the concept of the future with such profound depth.

And the myriad curses that had settled upon Croken Asylus’s body.

The fact that Croken was actually pleased with the curses binding him.

Could it be that he realized something during his last journey, the pilgrimage with Antares?

“…”

Croken had stated that his reason for joining Pandemonium was to avoid being isolated and swayed by others.

If the reason for remaining in that den of demons and following him, even without empathizing with the Director’s will, lay there.

If it was to observe him and maintain a purpose distinct from the Director’s until the very last moment.

Perhaps that is why Croken is so powerful.

“Another question has arisen to ask Antares…”

Lennok thought this, leaning against the lone path at the edge of the collapsed canal, and gazed silently at Headrain River.

With Yorta’s Memorial Tower completely collapsed, and the spirits of the Court of Soul Pacification annihilated, what would become of this city now?

He thought he should observe the aftermath once everything was over, but as the tension released, his eyelids grew infinitely heavy.

His body, long past its limits, had been enduring only with the aid of medicine, but as the immediate threat vanished, it could no longer hold on.

Thud, thud!!

From the far end of the canal, the form of a colossal manta ray surged up, riding the river currents.

Riding atop the vast spirit with outstretched fins, Oris’s figure could be seen, shouting towards him.

[Are you still alive, human!]

Only then did Lennok lean his head back and let out a low sigh.

“Ha…”

In the end, had he done well this time?

Stirring up trouble in Yorta, confronting the Court of Soul Pacification, infiltrating Mugan’s Sanctuary, battling Dorye, and even finding traces of the Pontiff.

He thought he had done his utmost, but every time a task concluded, a corner of his heart always held a lingering regret.

How much stronger must he become, how much more must he know to truly feel a sense of release?

His body, held together only by the wizard’s transcendent mental power, sank as if falling into slumber.

Telepathic transmissions from unfamiliar spirits echoed in his ears.

[We will restore Yorta’s collapsed barrier and reorganize the Sanctuary. We will hold a grand rite and perform soul binding.]

[He’s a Specialized Manipulation Wizard. This lineage is extremely delicate, so handle with care.]

[Let’s forcefully stimulate his spiritual nature and try to expand his consciousness. If successful, it will aid in system expansion.]

[Wait, what kind of body is this? In the binding spellcraft, target designation—]

[Wrong. The sheer scale of his consciousness is abnormally—]

The bewildered reactions of spirits echoed from all directions.

Beyond his sinking consciousness, he felt the presence of a spirit stirring within his embrace.

[Master. Don’t worry…]

Hearing Davi’s voice faintly echo in his ears, Lennok slumped his head forward.

A profound stillness where not even a breath could be heard.

Only the sound of the canal water flowing beneath his feet gently concealed the wizard’s early slumber.