Chapter 310
“Right after that, it’s just like the history you know.”
At Schugenharz’s words, Vargan nodded and murmured.
“The magician, who gained a body optimized for eternal youth and magic, acknowledged that alone he couldn’t fend off the Demon King’s forces in various fields, so he meticulously selected and took on disciples. The power shared was… magic and a new body, right?”
“Exactly. After becoming the magician’s disciple, we were able to handle mana while simultaneously losing the concept of aging. Thanks to that, we could fight against our enemies in our prime for decades… no, even become stronger.”
Clink—.
Vargan placed his empty teacup on the saucer.
Schugenharz’s story wasn’t finished yet.
He had seen more about the life of a woman named Shalom and the history that followed.
To naturally draw out the conversation again, Vargan opened his mouth.
“Shalom and you eventually defeated the Demon King, and the world began to praise her. But then, the developments took on a new phase. Am I wrong?”
“…You’re right. So isn’t it obvious that I’m facing you now?”
Schugenharz smiled bitterly as he continued.
“The magician, who stood tall at the pinnacle of the world, has changed. The cheers of the people he longed for no longer delighted his ears, and no feast could satisfy his palate.”
“Well, you need to be treated as a guest a few times to appreciate it. He was already a celebrated hero across the continent even before the Demon King’s defeat, so it’s not surprising.”
Schugenharz showed no suitable reply.
He casually glanced at the Scripture floating on the table.
“…After the Demon King was defeated, the magician began to frequently absent himself from his position. He devoted himself solely to the interpretation of the Scripture, leaving the tyranny of his gradually corrupted disciples unchecked. But it wasn’t because he lost interest in the affairs of the world; it was quite the opposite.”
“The opposite?”
“Vargan, who do you think the previous owner of this book was? And do you know why the magician is trying to catch me?”
“Do you know why the Magic Instructor is trying to capture me?”
Schugenhartz said it wasn’t simply because he had committed disrespect and fled with monsters and spirits.
Vargan, after briefly pondering the question, broke into a grin, as if he understood the answer.
“The previous owner of that Scripture was the Demon King, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right. During the demon king subjugation… while others couldn’t see, Amon, Plauros, and I who were near him did. The demon king was trying to protect that Scripture, which was similar to the Magic Instructor’s book.”
Schugenhartz vividly described the scene from back then.
How flustered the magician was upon seeing the demon king’s Scripture.
How desperate the demon king was to protect it.
“The demon king prioritized that Scripture over his own life just before dying. He moved it somewhere while completely hiding any traces of mana.”
The reason Shalom obsessed over interpreting the Scripture after the demon king was subdued was because of this.
An unexpected second Scripture. The anxiety that someone might use it.
The reasonable speculation that there could be more.
Knowing better than anyone the power contained in the Scripture, she wanted to recover all Scriptures or destroy anything other than herself.
Thus, she commanded her most trusted husband, Bael, to find the demon king’s Scripture and retrieve it immediately if another Scripture was discovered.
“In the midst of that, without knowing the exact circumstances, I tried to scold the Magic Instructor with a forceful approach and ended up imprisoned in a solitary room.”
“But you escaped from there, leading monsters and spirits. …You mentioned there was someone who helped you escape… so it must be Plauros who wanted to save Buer.”
“Exactly as you said. However, to add, he didn’t just help me escape. It was Plauros who handed me that Scripture while I was locked in the solitary room.”
That meant Plauros was the one who discovered the Scripture that the demon king had moved somewhere.
Vargan scoffed in disbelief.
“He knew the power of the Scripture and still chose not to use it, but gave it to you? What foolishness!”
“What Plauros wanted wasn’t his safety or honor, but solely the well-being of Lady Buer. Though it’s a union of small nations, it has established a position far from the capital, and I was the only one capable of lifting the curse placed on Lady Buer.”
Knowing the immense power contained in the Scripture, Plauros handed it over to Schugenhartz in exchange for his and Buer’s protection, along with the lifting of the curse placed on Buer.
There was no reason for Schugenhartz to refuse this proposal, and the deal was made.
“Plauros, as a minimal safety measure, tore out a few pages from the Scripture. He said he would give them to Lady Buer on the day the curse was lifted.”
“I was told I’d be given it on the day the curse binding Buer is lifted.”
The curse placed on Buer was bothersome and complex, even for Schugenhartz, who wielded the power of the Scripture.
If it didn’t progress slowly over the course of several years, there was a risk that Buer’s body wouldn’t be able to withstand it, so he needed to proceed with caution.
At this point, Schugenhartz was building forces to save people from the corrupted magicians and their disciples.
Rather than a form where only a few elite magicians monopolized magic,
He aimed for everyone with a common purpose to have an equal opportunity to wield mana.
Schugenhartz aspired to a grand ideal and wanted a new beginning.
“… That’s how it was in recorded history. However, looking back later, it seems even that was just a game played by the Scripture.”
“That’s hard to deny.”
Vargan chuckled softly as he recalled information beyond the novel.
“People settled down to live stable lives and began farming. As a result, production increased dramatically, allowing more people to survive. But if you think about it, weren’t people instead being used by the crops? Instead of using their labor just for survival, they exponentially increased the number of crops. … There’s a theory that your relationship with the Scripture is similar to that.”
In other words, rather than Schugenhartz and Shalom utilizing the Scripture, they were being used by it.
Indeed, by using the Scripture, people gained greater military power, and the scale of war expanded significantly.
Schugenhartz let out a long sigh.
“It’s quite painful but not wrong. If we recall the events from the original history concerning myself, the Magic Instructor, and the Demon King.”
“Well. By the way, it seems that you clearly remember the situation after this point. Since you figured out my name, it feels like you know things from my era too…”
As Vargan looked at Schugenhartz with narrowed eyes, Schugenhartz decided to reveal everything anyway.
“In original history…. After I started building my forces, due to the tyranny of the magicians and their disciples and the monstrosity of the citizens, those who fled began to gather. I used the power of the Scripture even more to care for them and shared my strength.”
A new battlefield was being established.
Years passed, dividing into the Goddess Church and humanity.
It was a massive battlefield that persisted even until the time of the original work.
“However, just a few years after that point, something unbelievable happened.”
“Something unbelievable?”
“…….”
Up to this point, Schugenhartz had been spilling his story effortlessly, but he paused for a moment.
Then, looking around to check if anyone was nearby, he whispered.
“The Magic Instructor committed suicide.”
*
At that time in the Capital City of Petran.
A man who entered the room where the magician Shalom was in seclusion fell into deep silence.
In front of him lay a beautiful woman in a blood-soaked dress, sprawled on the bed.
With features so chiseled, she was peacefully sleeping with her hands folded in prayer.
But her heart had already stopped beating.
The curse she had placed on herself was devouring her body.
“Stop.”
Her body was burning away.
Blood continuously oozed from her mouth.
The man bowing in front of the bed murmured, “Stop.”
He repeated the same word, trying to halt the curse she had cast upon herself.
He was Bael, the husband whom Shalom trusted above all.
“… O curse, stop your greed.”
The violet mana responding to Bael’s words seemed to momentarily hesitate in Shalom’s curse, but it only delayed the decay of her body.
Shalom had already left this world.
She would not open her eyes again.
“…….”
Bael knelt, holding Shalom’s hand, which had grown cold and brittle.
It felt as if it would crumble like a fallen leaf if he gripped it even slightly harder.
Sssss….
Bael remained like a statue, waiting for Shalom’s entire body to turn to ash.
Yet no matter how long he waited, the departed wouldn’t return.
Eventually, even Shalom’s fragrance faded from the air, and Bael finally turned his head.
“…….”
In his tear-filled eyes reflected a violet light.
A sinister-looking book flaunted its presence.
Bael recognized that the book belonged to Shalom. He reached out and grabbed the scripture.
It was something Shalom always cherished and kept close, so he had never seen or opened it.
Overwhelmed by nostalgia, he turned the cover.
Rustle.
Rustle—.
What was written was the story of Shalom’s life.
The diary that she cherished so much.
Each carefully written entry chronicled their meeting and their marriage.
It even contained the moments of giving birth to Buer.
With every word he read, Bael’s throat trembled slightly.
He was suppressing his emotions as if they were choking him.
Eventually, he reached the last page where the writing was dense.
In stark contrast to the full pages, there was only one line on this page, and the ink was still wet.
“I wanted to annihilate the traitors without leaving a single one.”
Traitors.
This clearly referred to the rebel forces, including Schugenharz.
“Traitors….”
Bael quietly simmered with rage. Veins bulged in his neck, and the blood vessels around his eyes burst, yet he struggled to contain his emotions.
However, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, his extreme emotions dulled Bael’s senses.
There was a trace of a page torn out just before the last one, but in his fury, it was lost on Bael’s eyes.
