Chapter 929: Anathema (3)
An aura so clear and sharp it felt transparent, imbued with a mysterious power.
A distant, detached presence, as if he did not belong to this world.
On the ground, flesh monsters convulsed, raged, and shrieked, yet the ritual site felt profoundly quiet in contrast.
He raised his gaze, calmer than the silence that had settled all around, and looked down upon the assembly.
The manifestation of Armas von Anathema, a noble of Ars Nova.
A miracle that brought his body, which had suffered existential deprivation and expulsion from the Central City, back into this reality.
To achieve this moment, eight 8-level supreme ability users had gathered to construct the Eight Trigrams Formation and prepare the ritual. How could one describe the time and value invested?
At this point, it became clear that even the cult’s attack, which began simultaneously with the ritual, was solely for the manifestation of this man.
However, as soon as Lennok confirmed Anathema’s awakening, he quickly scanned the entire ritual site.
‘Only five have gathered immediately, it seems.’
Slain and Rage. The telekinetic giant who had been snacking throughout the entire meeting, and the blind Habaek. And Lennok himself.
Each of them had rushed to the ritual site, their momentum somewhat disrupted.
It was a strange situation where other attendees, and even Guileless, whom Lennok had sent to the ritual site first, were nowhere to be seen.
“……”
Yet, Anathema remained silent for a long time even after opening his eyes.
He merely sat on the altar, his lips sealed, gazing down at his own body, covered in blue scales, for a long while.
Despite having manifested for the seventh time in this world, just as Slain had explained, he seemed to feel no emotion about it.
In the quiet ritual site, Slain was the first to speak.
“Armas. It’s understandable that you feel out of place after being summoned back to this world after so long, but we don’t have much time.”
“……”
“We completed the manifestation ritual using the Eight Trigrams Formation, but there’s a problem.”
Slain looked at the attendees observing the situation from the back of the ritual site and spoke.
“Someone attacked the satellite city to interfere with your manifestation. We need to escape to safety—”
“Ugly.”
“……What?”
Ignoring Slain’s retort, Anathema murmured.
His gaze was still fixed on his own body, covered in blue scales.
“Indeed, truly unsightly.”
“……”
“After six manifestations, is this still my form? There is nothing to be done.”
Anathema’s words, spoken thus, sounded almost resigned.
However, he gazed at his scaled body with a sorrowful expression, then slowly rose from the altar.
Standing naked on the altar, Anathema’s transparent eyes looked down at the superhumans gathered below the ritual site.
“Are you the ones who have resolved to assist in my manifestation and fulfill your duty?”
Rustle!
He raised a hand and grasped at the invisible air.
As his scaled hand clenched the atmosphere and slashed diagonally downwards, a piece of deep black silk appeared in his hand, wrapping around Anathema’s body.
Lennok’s eyes shimmered subtly, instantly recognizing the true value of the artistry.
‘Property Transformation of atmospheric particles. In a way, it seems similar to Hermes’s Mass Spellcraft.’
The skill to apply Property Transformation not to mana or will-thought, but to the very physical laws existing in reality.
Anathema, instantly clad in a black light robe, floated above the altar.
“After the painful civil war ended.”
He took a step, walking on nothing but empty air.
“After Kaiser departed.”
Another step.
“After the project failed.”
Anathema, standing on two feet beneath the night sky, murmured.
“And now, only we remain.”
“……”
Had he, in that brief moment of manifestation, read the success or failure of various events that had transpired in this city?
A super-sensory perception that transcended cognition, accessing information about objects simultaneously with their existence in the world.
Lennok’s lips tightened as he recognized that familiar sensation he had seen somewhere before.
The young man, who had been staring blankly at the sky, then closed his eyes.
“I believed things would improve, but as time passes, it only grows more painful.”
“Slain.”
At that moment, Rage, who stood behind Slain, spoke in an unusually cold tone.
“This is a different story.”
“……”
It was hard to believe such a cold voice, emerging from behind her bike helmet, belonged to the same person who had been so playful just moments ago.
“Armas. He wasn’t like this before. Was the ritual performed correctly?”
Rage herself was drenched in blood that wasn’t her own.
She too must have cut down the flesh monsters that attacked during the ritual, then abandoned everything else to rush to the site.
That’s why she was reacting so sensitively to Anathema’s seemingly unwell state.
Blind Habaek and the telekinetic giant also seemed to have a similar feeling.
“Her words are not wrong. He used to be a bit more mechanical than that.”
“He was an entity with sparse emotions. Quite different from now.”
But Slain, unswayed by their words, replied with a cold expression.
“He is a noble of Ars Nova. He was not born a normal human, so it’s impossible to grasp what he was thinking before his manifestation.”
“I don’t think that can be an excuse for the current situation, however……”
Habaek, the blind swordsman of Sihyegeomjong, chuckled wryly and stroked his chin.
“Perhaps we might have to send Lord Armas, whom we’ve painstakingly summoned, back to his rest with our own hands.”
“Lord Habaek. Don’t talk nonsense. Don’t you understand what the cult is after right now?”
Rage retorted sharply, but Lennok ignored the tumultuous conversation and focused on the current situation.
Outwardly, there was still no abnormality detectable in Anathema’s body.
His soul still emanated a transparent fragrance, possessed a refined aura, and shone most brightly.
However, the 8-level ability users gathered here were not short-sighted or oblivious.
They were civil war veterans who had lived for an extremely long time, overcome countless life-or-death situations, and were personally acquainted with Anathema himself.
And precisely for that reason, they felt an unsettling strangeness from the Anathema standing before them now.
“……”
Yet, Lennok, looking at the attendees and Anathema, was thinking of something entirely different.
During Anathema’s manifestation, Lennok had observed the presence and will-thought of all the attendees gathered here with his mystic eye.
Lennok had previously accompanied the cult priestess in Yorta and inherited the authority of the cult’s high priestess from her.
That’s why, even while at odds with the cult, he was better able to identify those connected to it than anyone else.
He had used the Oracle’s Divine Ability, which the priestess possessed, to search for an informant among them.
Absurdly, not a single person among them was colluding with the cult.
There was no informant.
Just as Lennok realized this and slowly lowered his head,
Anathema, who had been gazing at the sky for a long time, turned his head and spoke.
“The one who greeted my rebirth with the most joy is here.”
The noble’s gaze, which felt infinitely transparent, pointed directly at Lennok amidst the crowd.
“Come closer, mortal.”
Anathema extended a hand towards Lennok with an infinitely gentle look.
“I shall first bestow upon you my humble ability.”
“I won’t tell anyone, so can’t you tell me what trick you used?”
Rage, who had approached Lennok, quickly whispered into his ear.
It was an attitude hard to believe belonged to the same person who had just minutes ago emanated a chilling killing intent towards Slain.
To treat people so casually, flipping like a palm, and feeling no compunction about it, was not normal.
Perhaps this woman was of a similar ilk to Peshia Grisbern, if one were to categorize them.
Just as Lennok ignored Rage and was about to walk away, Rage urgently spoke.
“Why is Armas reacting to you first, someone he’s never met before? Given his personality, he shouldn’t be like this.”
“Because he’s never met me.”
“……What?”
At Lennok’s outlandish reply, even the others, who had been keenly listening to their conversation, frowned.
But Lennok, staring intently at Anathema, who was looking at him, said,
“He claims he’s been reborn, but his fundamental nature doesn’t change.”
“……Are you saying his personality changes every time he manifests or something like that?”
“No.”
Lennok chuckled.
“It’s a much dirtier story than that.”
“I, I have no idea what you mean?”
Lennok ignored Rage’s complaint and immediately walked forward, stopping before Anathema.
By eye-level, Anathema was about the same height as Lennok.
Aside from being covered in blue scales, he had a sturdy physique and was quite handsome.
Perhaps in his lifetime, he received compliments similar to Gillian Myloze.
While Lennok was lost in such utterly useless thoughts, Anathema spoke.
“Nobles of Ars Nova are born blessed with the ability to wield special innate powers.”
“……”
“The eight innate abilities bestowed upon nobles who inherit the name of Anathema are called the Post-Heaven Eight Trigrams, symbolizing—”
“—all changes existing between heaven and earth, and explaining the cosmic principles upon which all things are ordered.”
Lennok interrupted Anathema and nodded.
“I heard that from a man named Slain, so let’s move on. I understand the general idea.”
“Good. Then, among the abilities of the Post-Heaven Eight Trigrams, I shall grant you the concept most suited to your aptitude…”
“Time.”
Lennok said.
“The trigram symbolizing the concept of time. I will accept that ability as the price for your manifestation.”
“……”
“You said it mimics the changes of all creation and explains the principles of the universe, didn’t you?”
Seeing Anathema’s silence, Lennok explained.
“Among them, if there’s an ability closest to the concept of ‘change’, it must surely be the power to manipulate time, right?”
After hearing about the meaning and symbolic concepts of the Post-Heaven Eight Trigrams, Lennok had clearly defined his reason for participating in Anathema’s manifestation ritual.
The mimicry and explanation of all creation’s changes.
If that concept could exist through infinite applications, then the ability to manipulate the changes of time must surely exist within the Post-Heaven Eight Trigrams.
Lennok had confirmed this fact at the same time he decided to participate in the manifestation ritual, and demanded it from Anathema.
The ability to manipulate time, which he had never touched directly, except when wielding it through Kaiser’s Mind Imprint.
If he could obtain it, perhaps one day he might even be able to create time-based spellcraft.
“The spirituality of time manipulation is, by nature, a hypothetical reference point created by relatively observing a concept that does not inherently exist.”
Anathema, who had been silent, spoke.
“If one’s aptitude and talent are not a match, it is a dangerous power that can drain one’s spiritual essence to no purpose, even for a noble.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not in a position to quibble over such side effects.”
Lennok nodded.
“What’s important is the catalyst to awaken the sensation. Even a trivial inspiration, if you can let me experience it directly, is worth a fortune.”
“If your resolve is firm, then…”
Anathema nodded, as if understanding.
“Come onto the altar. I must awaken your spiritual essence.”
Thump!!
Following his words, Lennok stepped onto the highest point of the ritual site, the altar.
A place from which the vast ritual site could be surveyed at a glance.
At the foot of the altar where Anathema had awakened, fragments of blue scales, seemingly shed by him, were visible.
Anathema, having ascended the altar, extended both hands and clasped Lennok’s.
Simultaneously, a transparent radiance enveloped both men, swirling violently.
Whoooooosh……!!!
A colossal ring of light, like a planetary ring, encircled Lennok and Anathema, glowing intensely.
Hundreds of thousands of threads of light extended from within the ring, touching Lennok’s entire body and beginning to transmit boundless inspiration.
“……”
With the intense flow of information that completely overturned his mind, Lennok’s eyes naturally closed, and his body slumped.
Enveloped by the ring of light, the moment their forms were obscured from anyone outside the ritual site.
“I’m tired.”
Anathema murmured.
Releasing Lennok’s hand, he said,
“No matter how many times I repeat atonement, I see no way to remain in the material world, and the end is near.”
“……”
“The efforts I made during six manifestations have all vanished like foam, meaning nothing. Only regret remains.”
Anathema whispered, as if confessing to the silent Lennok, within the ring where only the two of them resided.
“This opportunity must be my last. I don’t want to leave any regrets in the end.”
“……”
“I’m sorry.”
Anathema’s incomprehensible monologue.
But without seeking Lennok’s understanding, or expecting him to hear, he tilted the ring of light.
Anathema, gazing at his scaled hands with an expression of revulsion, slowly clutched Lennok’s neck with both hands.
Lennok, with his eyes still closed, replied.
“So, that was it after all.”
“……!!”
Anathema flinched and tightened his grip, lifting Lennok into the air. Lennok’s body floated without resistance.
Clench……!!
The terrifying grip around Lennok’s neck, squeezing him, was a stark lie to the tranquility he had exuded until now.
But even as his face turned pale from strangulation, Lennok did not stop speaking.
“From the moment I heard that your body doesn’t exist in reality… I had a thought.”
“You……!!”
“You met him, didn’t you?”
A chilling laugh. A question without a subject.
But Anathema, hearing those words alone, trembled violently as if struck to the core.
Lennok, his eyes strained open, looked down at Anathema and thought.
Why the cult intervened as soon as the manifestation ritual began, targeting Anathema.
Why the cult aimed for Anathema’s manifestation and tried to enter the ritual site.
What was the reason the Director of Pandemonium chose a mega-city to complete his manifestation in the world.
Now he understood.
Other people’s memories and beliefs. Worship and fanaticism directed towards himself.
A Transcendent who hid among concepts beyond human reason, managing the side effects of ascension.
“After repeated manifestations, all of which failed, at the very last moment… you took his hand.”
The cult did not attack the satellite city to stop Anathema’s manifestation.
The objective of those fanatics was, in fact, the opposite of stopping Anathema.
Lennok looked down at Anathema’s stiff face and grabbed Anathema’s hand, which was choking him.
The moment the authority of the high priestess, etched on Lennok’s right wrist, emitted a pale light.
The ring of light surrounding Anathema and Lennok cracked and shattered.
KWA-ANG!!
The broken and shattered ring of light, once infinitely transparent, now dyed a pale hue.
The light that had impartially illuminated all transformed into the colors of the cult, trapped in blind fanaticism.
Lennok began to absorb all the radiance that fell down from the shattering altar.
Screeching……!!!
A grating sound, like gears grinding.
“You were the one colluding with the cult.”
Perfectly absorbing Anathema’s Eight Trigrams Formation using the priestess’s divine ability, Lennok landed on the ground.
“You were an Apostle of the cult.”
The noble of the Central City. The 8-level Dragon Sorcerer. The hero of the civil war, known as Six Heavenly Tribulations.
Armas von Anathema had already taken the Pontiff’s hand and completed his Apostle Transformation, becoming an Apostle of the cult.