Aaaah!
As soon as they entered the banquet hall, Aslan was greeted by a chorus of shouts and screams from a group of men.
It wasn’t hard to guess what was happening.
‘It must be Lewena’s magic.’
Recalling the magical traits and spells possessed by Lewena, Aslan ran ahead, while Lumel, despite being dressed in a dress, swiftly took the lead with agile strides.
Passing through the wide-open main gate and heading toward the staircase leading to the banquet hall, something suddenly burst out from the corners of the spiral staircases on either side.
They were sentries wielding a mace and a halberd.
Clad in chainmail and plate armor, their eyes blazing with fire, the two sentries charged forward. Aslan lowered his stance and accelerated the moment he saw them.
“Hold it right there! We are…!”
Lumel attempted to reason with the sentries, opening her mouth to protest, but the sentries didn’t even acknowledge her and immediately swung down their halberd.
The heavy axe blade of the halberd came crashing down with a ferocious sound.
With enough force to split a head in half upon contact, the attack from the veteran sentry was weighty, yet it missed Aslan entirely.
Aslan raised his arm, complete with the wing-like appendage of the Steamfalos.
Kagagajak!
The bewildered expression of the sentry amidst the sparks flying around him. A faint purple hue emanating from his pupils.
Aslan glanced at the halberd sliding along the surface of the Steamfalos’ wings before delivering an upward strike with his elbow.
Jjeg!
Simultaneously, the marble floor was struck by the halberd, sending stone fragments flying, while the sentry’s jaw met Aslan’s elbow, causing his eyes to roll back.
Without confirming the unconscious sentry, Aslan seized the halberd and swung it around.
Aaaaek, kang!
“Ugh…!”
The powerful slash emitted a sharp tearing sound, colliding with the mace, causing the mace-wielding sentry to stagger. This was because the sentry wasn’t skilled enough to withstand the full-force blow from the seasoned warrior.
As the sentry stumbled, Aslan was already charging forward. Dropping the halberd, he reached out and grabbed the sentry by the collar. The chains tore with a loud crackling sound.
Gang!
All that remained after grabbing was to throw. Aslan slammed the sentry to the ground, causing marble pieces to fly everywhere as the sentry collapsed, his eyes rolling back.
With both sentries unconscious, Lumel looked at Aslan with wide, startled eyes.
“Aslan sir… Is this really alright…?”
While watching Aslan confiscate weapons from the unconscious sentries, Lumel wore an expression of perplexity. Aslan glanced at her briefly and replied.
“There is no other way.”
It was a firm answer.
“These individuals are currently suffering under an illusion spell, one of an exceptionally high level from the School of Illusions. It’s so advanced that even Anna-sama, who isn’t here, wouldn’t be able to dispel it.”
Thus, knocking them unconscious was the only option. Aslan added while holding the mace in his left hand and offering the raised halberd to Lumel.
“This spell will continue unless the caster is found and killed or driven out of a certain radius. Lumel-sama, please subdue those affected by the School of Illusion magic within the banquet hall. I’ll handle the rest.”
“The rest.” Lumel instinctively realized that greater danger lay in that “rest.” Her trembling brown eyes met Aslan’s, who reciprocated the gaze.
“Then, perhaps I should come along….”
The sight of the man shaking his head and instead placing a translucent cloth-covered hand on Lumel’s shoulder.
“Then Lumel-sama would be in danger. Though you haven’t accepted my feelings, Lumel-sama is my comrade. You’re someone too precious to die here. I cannot put you in harm’s way.”
Lumel moistened her eyes at the earnest tone and had no choice but to close her mouth. It didn’t take long for a rebellious glint to appear in her gaze as she stared at him.
“I’ll die if you do first. So….”
“…I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll try my best not to die.”
With Aslan’s smiling response, Lumel managed a slight smile. Lumel headed inside the banquet hall, while Aslan ascended the spiral staircase towards the second floor of the palace.
Upon reaching the second floor via the desolate spiral staircase, several sentries came into view. Two of them, their eyes tinged with purple upon seeing Aslan, recoiled in shock.
While they foamed at the mouth, charged in panic, or uttered indescribable sounds, Aslan juggled the mace in his left hand and stepped forward.
A clear moonlight filtered through the long corridor where hooks filled with murderous intent surged towards Aslan.
Kaang!
The first spear aimed at his head was deflected with the mace. The spear bounced off, and the sentry wobbled.
As the sentry without a helmet leaned heavily, Aslan’s fist lunged directly into the gap.
Ppueok!
Several teeth erupted from the mouth. Ignoring the sentry clutching his face and falling, Aslan eyed the next charging sentry.
The bewilderment and anger clouding the charging sentry’s face allowed Aslan to read the emotions and begin to understand the kind of magic Lewena had used.
There was order in their attacks. It was plainly visible that they were attacking according to training.
Aslan tapped the flat side of the axe aiming for his head with the mace and then twisted his wrist to swing horizontally. The chunk of metal struck the sentry’s shoulder, causing him to lose his weapon and his face to twist with fear and pain.
This was not the type of illusion magic that strips away sanity and intelligence. Aslan gripped the neck of the weaponless and frightened sentry and pulled him close.
Ppueok!
And then a knee strike. Accurately landing on the face, the sentry crumbled. After briefly checking the fallen sentries, Aslan crossed the long corridor while organizing his thoughts.
The Black Witch Lewena excelled in the School of Illusions.
Of course, she could use other kinds of magic. Other types were terrifyingly powerful, but Lewena particularly stood out in the School of Illusions.
In terms of illusions, she demonstrated a mastery comparable to Anna’s.
It was safe to say that Aslan had no chance of dispelling such illusions created by Lewena.
The best options were either finding and killing Lewena directly or making her retreat and lifting the spell.
So Aslan had two choices.
Find and kill Lewena before any allies or comrades were harmed.
Or find Angie.
Passing the unconscious sentries, Aslan considered possible locations where Lewena might be.
Considering that she deliberately left behind a talisman and that external sentries seemed unaffected, Lewena desired a private confrontation with Aslan.
She undoubtedly sought a private meeting.
If Aslan knew Lewena correctly, then certainly.
And within this palace, there was only one place perfectly suited for such a private encounter.
Just as Aslan raised his head to look up at the upper part of the palace, a scream suddenly rang out.
A shrill, horrified scream of a girl. Lowering his head at the sound, Aslan soon noticed someone running towards him from the end of the long corridor.
The figure running with flowing platinum hair was distinct enough to recognize from afar.
A girl with piercing eyes that shone vividly even under the pale moonlight dimly filtering through.
Seeing the girl running towards him, Aslan momentarily worried if she had fallen prey to the illusion magic.
“A, Aslan…?!”
Her calling his name and stopping confirmed his worry was unfounded.
Thankfully. As Aslan approached with a slight smile, the girl emperor extended her arms in panic.
“Just a moment, don’t come closer! Run away! That child is…!”
The urgency in her voice as she extended her arms puzzled Aslan.
That child?
Her desperate cry urging him to flee rather than asking for protection made Aslan curious just as a vague vibration began to be felt from above.
Kuung, kung, the sound of something breaking. A thunderous crash akin to a heavy object smashing into place soon followed, shaking the entire body violently.
Frowning at the tremor, Aslan watched as the emperor, turning pale, rushed towards him.
That child.
The moment Aslan recalled a person the emperor might describe as “that child,”
Kwaahaaaaang!
The ceiling of the second floor of the palace collapsed, and massive chunks of stone fell.
The piece plummeting where the emperor had been standing moments ago was enormous, resembling a boulder, and atop it sat someone.
The face revealed amidst the swirling white marble dust was very familiar to Aslan.
Angela Tail.
The steed of the ancient deity.
A girl possessing strength comparable to giants, regeneration surpassing trolls, and agility rivaling wild beasts.
As the crimson-haired girl landed gracefully on the ground, her bright golden eyes opened, and Aslan carefully examined her form while holding the mace.
Her dress was already torn, possibly missing its original side slits, and her long sleeves were shredded, almost resembling short sleeves. The hem of her skirt had also shortened significantly.
The curves visible beyond the shortened, slit, and torn skirt clearly indicated the girl had grown considerably.
‘She’s in her growth spurt.’
Amidst these observations, what caught Aslan’s eye most distinctly were the boots. Boots made from dragon leather, brought from the city of wizards.
Seeing those boots, Aslan couldn’t help but smile. How much must she have liked them to wear travel boots beneath her dress to a banquet?
As Aslan hid his unintended smile, Angie looked up and glared at him with eyes reminiscent of a wild beast. Meeting those golden irises tinged with purple, Aslan let out a subtle sigh.
He wished she hadn’t fallen victim to the magic, but evidently, she had.
The golden eyes tinged with purple held little kindness. What remained was merely hostility. Recognizing the flicker of rationality in those eyes, Aslan sighed again.
“Of all people…”
That Angie would fall victim to it was unfortunate.
But upon reflection, it was quite natural. Unlike Aslan, whose determination shielded him from magic, Angie’s mana, luck, and determination were all at their lowest.
Moreover, considering that the caster was Lewena, it wasn’t surprising that Angie had succumbed to the spell.
At least some degree of rationality remaining was fortunate. Aslan stepped forward, twirling the mace in his hand and plucking a single feather from the Steamfalos with his right hand.
“Your Majesty, are you injured anywhere?”
“Yes… I’m fine. I haven’t been hurt yet.”
“Then please stay behind me. I will protect you.”
As the emperor nodded and moved behind Aslan, Angie bent her knees. Aslan didn’t miss that subtle sign.
“Purity.”
Following the solemn voice, a dagger transformed into a glowing broadsword. Just as the emperor turned around, Angie disappeared.
The violent rise of dust. Her target was obvious; foresight wasn’t necessary. Aslan had observed Angie for a long time.
Likewise, if Angie still retained some rationality, there was a way to reduce the effects of the magic.
Aslan pushed the emperor aside with his shoulder and lifted ‘Purity.’ The ancient relic imbued with Aslan’s unwavering determination, which would never break.
He raised it to block the emperor’s front. An invisible force collided with Purity.
Cheeeeeeeeng!
“Kyaah!”
The deafening roar caused the emperor, pushed by Aslan’s shoulder, to fall over, and Purity was pushed back. In that gap, Angie’s punch came crashing down.
The intense impact pushing Purity aside. Aslan did not resist this impact. Instead, he yielded to it. Rotating with the force, he stopped the momentum, revealing the halted girl.
The girl raising her second punch to deliver another strike. If hit, it would surely be fatal. Before the overwhelming violence could reach him, Aslan spun and swung the mace.
Cheug!
Accelerated by centrifugal force and delivered with the precision of a seasoned warrior, a lump of iron struck Angie’s head.
A small tear appeared on Angie’s scalp from the sharp edge of the mace, spilling a minuscule amount of blood.
No substantial damage was inflicted. Given the common mace and the reduced power of the blow, it couldn’t cause meaningful harm to Angie. However, Aslan’s aim wasn’t to crush her head.
His goal was to instill discomfort in Angie.
Her head swayed from the impact, and her brain likely rattled from the precise strike, causing her body to tilt and kneel.
“…Eh?”
The confused murmur escaping Angie’s lips. The enlarged pupils filled with bewilderment quivered slightly.
Angie slowly raised her head to look up at Aslan. Despite the lingering tinge of purple, the hostility in her gaze had subsided.
Seeing this, Aslan deduced that the magic Lewena used didn’t strip rationality and intellect but distorted what was seen, heard, and felt.
Since the magic preserved rationality and intellect while inducing hallucinations, those affected could still feel fear, confusion, and even use techniques.
Hence, awakening them was straightforward.
By presenting a truth different from what they perceived—a solid truth that they could comprehend through their rationality and intellect.
For the girl, the most resonant truth was technique.
Techniques that made impossible feats achievable despite her immense strength and power—clearly superhuman techniques.
Aslan’s techniques.
As the girl’s eyes trembled upon witnessing those techniques, Aslan extended his hand.
The soft touch of his hand resting on her head made the girl flinch slightly and look up at Aslan.
The deep doubt settling in her pupils as Aslan registered it while gently brushing her hair.
Caressing her crown, feeling the warmth radiating from it, his fingers trailed down to her cheek. The gentle touch prompted Angie to close her eyes.
For a moment, it seemed like she relished the caress before slowly raising her hand to place it over Aslan’s.
In a voice softened by tenderness, the girl spoke.
“Aslan…?”
When the girl reopened her eyes, there was no trace of purple in her golden irises.
“Hello, Angie.”
As the doubt clouding the girl’s eyes dissipated, Aslan smiled and said,
“Could you help me a bit?”
