Chapter 92
A harsh storm began to rage across the golden desert. The sand and flecks of gold that had formed hills were scattered in all directions.
The massive wind, laden with sand, surged forward with the intent to swallow everything in its path. The tranquil desert had been suddenly disturbed by this storm, and the Sword Saint, the source of this chaos, clicked his tongue as he stared at the sword in his hand.
“Tch, what a mess.”
The Marauder Michael offered no resistance.
There was no will to live, no despair in the face of death in that dirty face of his. He simply exhausted his life in a futile attempt to cling onto the Sword Saint’s legs. Layer upon protective layer he built and reinforced with spells.
To the Sword Saint, the sight was nothing short of revolting.
Efficiency, rationality, reason.
The calmness displayed by a creature facing death was beyond belief.
‘This isn’t life.’
A living being should naturally struggle, letting go of everything in the face of death. Meaning and justice are only relevant to those who survive. But the Marauders did not behave this way.
Could something unafraid of death truly be called alive? Something with flesh and bone, a body that bled and thought, yet the Sword Saint refused to recognize them as life.
Because of this, the Sword Saint harbored a deep-seated hatred for the Marauders. And the attitude Michael displayed today in the face of death could be described as nothing short of the worst.
Neither attempting to survive nor showing the slightest bit of regret for not doing so – his expression and demeanor were filled with such acceptance.
Enraged by such an attitude, the Sword Saint infused even more force into his blade than usual.
“…….”
The result was this massive storm that now loomed before the Sword Saint’s eyes. Even he wasn’t sure when it would end or how far it would grow. As he watched the unpredictable sandstorm, the Sword Saint let out a low sigh.
The sword he gripped tightly with both hands had lost its blade entirely, and its guard was melting away. The blade had vaporized due to the immense sound-speed friction generated as he swung it.
The Sword Saint threw the useless hilt to the ground.
*
My head feels like it’s about to split open. The darkness that consumed my vision gradually began to return to a spectrum of colors.
As my dulled senses returned, the pain in my fingertips and toes grew sharper.
I’m not even sure if I’m breathing properly.
…No, not just breathing—am I even alive?
“You’ve slept quite enough.”
“Ugh…!”
Suddenly, a massive breath of air rushed into my lungs like a storm. My ribs groaned in protest. The previously aching tips of my hands and toes now registered a chilling cold.
“How can you sleep soundly when such a foul stench permeates the air?”
Daljin’s voice, filled with malice, pierced through my ringing ears and reverberated in my skull.
I feel dizzy. I might throw up. But amidst all this, there’s one positive fact: I’m still alive.
“The heat and wind of the explosion were all blocked by my protection. But judging how feeble your body is, I can’t even begin to estimate.”
I make out the brown floor vaguely. That’s strange. Just moments ago, I was in a dense forest, but now, all there is around me is a pile of dirt and rocks.
Slowly turning my head, I survey the surroundings with blurred vision.
The lush vegetation is gone. The massive ancient trees and the fiery leaves have all evaporated.
“…Huh?”
Instead, a colossal crater, large enough to fit an entire mountain, stretches before my eyes. It feels like looking down from the stands of a Colosseum.
“…”
In the center of this Colosseum-like crater stood Maltiel. His dark skin, crimson eyes, and grotesquely long nails were easily recognizable, even with my unfocused gaze.
By my side was Daljin, made of shimmering blue lightning. The blasted deer appeared beside me even though I hadn’t summoned my staff.
…I owe my life to this guy, it seems.
Maltiel looked at us with an expression that suggested irritation at Daljin’s soft lightning wrapped around me.
It was clear that Daljin had been watching over me while I was unconscious.
“Don’t glare at us so menacingly. I won’t do anything.”
Daljin glanced down at Maltiel, who was observing us from atop the crater, with an air of leisure.
“You seem awfully frightened. Marauders can roughly gauge the magical power of their opponents, can’t they? With that ability, surely you must know that this isn’t my true form.”
“…Indeed, the magical power of a 7th Tier Mage. But magical power isn’t everything. I’ve seen too many Mages who can produce immense spells with just a fraction of magic.”
Maltiel knew that Daljin was a spirit far weaker than his original form but still regarded him with caution.
Even if significantly weakened, Daljin’s essence was elemental magic itself. The fundamental gap couldn’t be bridged merely by a decrease in magical strength.
“In short, you lack confidence, don’t you? Pity, those born with ambiguous talents often have lukewarm goals.”
Daljin sighed, looking genuinely bored as he stared at Maltiel.
“You all could stand to be a bit more reckless and foolish.”
While saying this, Daljin lightly caressed my head with his warm lightning.
…My mind is a bit cloudy, but did this guy just call me stupid?
“…”
Daljin glanced at me irritably, swiveling his hoof.
“I think I’ll just spectate from here.”
“…What?”
I’ve barely regained consciousness, but what is this guy even saying?
“You should help me! What do you mean spectating…?”
“If you and I combined our strength, the Grand Marshal would be annihilated instantly. Where’s the fun in that? After all, a fight should be thrilling and precarious, no? Be grateful for being saved.”
Daljin spoke with the arrogance of someone who believes that all the truths of the world are within his grasp.
I couldn’t stop my expression from contorting in frustration as I desperately wanted to rip the horns off this arrogant deer right at that moment.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’ll give my silent support, at least.”
With that, the lightning that made up the blasted stag began to dissipate into thin air. Simultaneously, small particles started flowing out from my right hand and coalesced.
Soon, a small staff appeared in my grasp, and the lightning swiftly disappeared into it.
“…What an absurd kid.”
Enraged, I slammed the staff into the ground, but it transformed into tiny particles once more and returned into my skin through my right hand.
“Suck… Haah.”
To calm my rising irritation, I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky.
‘Stay calm, analyze the situation. Daljin has made his decision. Getting angry at this stag won’t change anything.’
The heat in my head subsided instantly after just one deep breath.
The benefits of being born as a vagrant to attain the trait of “Calmness” cannot be overstated.
The sky was clouded with oppressive dark clouds. This was clearly not the bright, sunny day it was before I lost consciousness.
‘Something strange isn’t it?’
A sudden massive explosion occurred in the lush mountain area. The air around was intensely heated, all the moisture in the vegetation had evaporated, and the subsequent massive shockwave likely converged toward the center of the explosion. It’s plausible that the rising air currents could have formed these dark clouds.
‘…The weather helps me, in any case.’
Dark clouds are the best friends of those who wield lightning. I could feel the lightning behind those dark clouds colliding and gnawing at each other, eager to be used as my sword and shield.
“General!”
A thunderous voice echoed from behind the crater. I looked for the familiar voice, lowering my head.
There was Rex, not far from Maltiel, standing in an awkward stance that suggested his condition wasn’t normal.
Rex was safe.
…What about Alter and the other soldiers?
“…”
The late-coming question shakes the composure I’ve barely regained.
Alter is dead.
‘No, no. That’s Alter Heinzel. The most brilliant storm mage alive.’
Except for three 9th Tier mages from other disciplines, Alter is acclaimed as the strongest mage amongst them all.
‘What are the odds that he survived that explosion?’
The answer to that question was presented right before my eyes.
A vast crater more than 30 kilometers in radius. Beyond this, nothing was left.
‘To assume he survived wouldn’t be prediction, but prayers.’
Images of the past three months spent with Alter flashed through my mind.
‘…Did he really die?’
The first moment he taught me how to use my magic book inside that rattling carriage immediately came to mind.
That moment when his eyes, filled with doubt, transformed into joy and expectation…
“Reporting the damage status of the main strike force!”
An enormous shout pierced through the fog of conflicting emotions in my head.
I raised my head, which had unconsciously been facing the ground.
At the edge of my vision stood an Orc with mobility issues in their legs and Rex.
“Except for the General and me, the status of all the strike force members is unclear! It’s highly likely they were killed by the explosion!”
Rex informed me of the current situation. His face showed no hint of sympathy or anxiety.
That was odd.
Why could he bravely stand there like that?
“One, they aren’t confirmed dead! Don’t forget how great Alter is! The status of life or death is ‘unconfirmed’! I repeat! The status of life or death is ‘unconfirmed’!”
He didn’t offer awkward comfort. He didn’t lie with some stupid assurance that “Alter would surely survive.”
He simply reminded me of the situation as it was right before my eyes.
“…That’s right.”
That was enough.
Alter is a great mage, one who could be called the closest to 9th Tier without any shame.
Am I even in a position to worry about Alter’s safety right now?
He certainly dealt with Maltiel’s explosion in some way that fitted his intelligence. The one who offered himself as bait to fight against the Grand Marshal while leaving me, who couldn’t think clearly, behind – it was him, wasn’t it?
His sharp mind, deep experience… and those blazing red eyes were never meant to belong to someone who would die today.
“So focus, General! Maltiel is standing right before our eyes!”
Let’s trust.
There is still nothing resolved.
Maltiel is alive before my eyes, and he could take flight with his wings whenever he chooses.
Trust that Alter, a mage great enough to survive such an explosion, exists and don’t dwell further on it.
“Let’s go.”
I took a slow step down the steep incline.
As if waiting for this exact moment, the stormy skies responded with the roar of thunder.
