Chapter 489 – Crash Landing
No mistake about it.
Judging from memory, such a nature of magic power had only ever been seen in the power source of the magic tower.
It cannot be dismissed as coincidence.
With the intuition of a Transcendent, he realized there was an inevitable causal relationship.
Gulp.
"Kuuk…."
Dahit coughed up blood from deep in his throat, cold sweat running down his face.
The inside of his body was in shambles.
In particular, nearly half of his mana circuits had been damaged. For an ordinary Mage, this was no different from a permanent disability.
To deliberately force such monstrous magic power into me, overloading my mana circuits… what a deranged notion.
If he had at least abandoned the superlative magic midway and focused on defense, he would not be in such a state.
Even though the magic power was absurd in quantity, it was still pure magic power.
Had he only wrapped his whole body in the flames of
Of course, a considerable amount of magic power would have been consumed.
Tch.
Clicking his tongue, Dahit brushed away the tangled feelings of anger and dismay in an instant.
Dwelling on emotions was pointless.
It was far better to analyze rationally after reviewing memory later.
Still.
…How could he be bearing the magic power of the tower's power source?
It was widely accepted as fact that Bohemirn Magic Tower's power source had gone berserk for some unknown reason and collapsed.
But could it be that the reaction shown by the power source's magic was actually the aftereffect of relocating its origin?
And that origin had been transplanted into the body of the Transcendent who had invaded the Great Hall?
It sounded plausible.
Yet the hypothesis contained a decisive contradiction that defied reason.
If so, then he should have been long dead.
By direct insight with his own eyes, Dahit knew—the tower's power source was complete as it was.
It could not be destroyed or interfered with by even superlative magic that shook the world, nor harnessed by any means other than as a power source.
It could not be handled.
No matter the method, a human body would inevitably collapse.
The fact that Dahit's own circuits had been grievously damaged simply by containing infinite magic for a short while spoke enough.
But if the hypothesis is true… then that Transcendent is not merely some successor of Black Hour.
There was clearly a far greater background behind him.
Compared to him, Melard, Cayman, and Harkan's disciples were nothing.
Because there was no way that the founding members of Black Hour had done anything to Bohemirn Tower's power source.
No matter how great they were, they could never have breached the defenses of the world's second-ranked magic tower and meddled with the power source.
As a disciple, Dahit could state this with certainty.
Yes, perhaps even the masters themselves do not know that the Transcendent they raised is related to the power source.
Unbidden, Dahit recalled the enigmatic Transcendent.
By some means, his perception had been obstructed, leaving the appearance unclear—but with the ancient artifact [Machbat's Pupil] in necklace form, he had glimpsed fragments of information.
He did not know the color of the eyes.
But on the right eye was inscribed a magic circle of a form he had never seen before.
Nor did he know what kind of robe he wore.
But the power radiating from him was enough to infer that it ranked among the highest of all artifacts.
He had heard the man's voice.
But it was a voice he had never heard before, meaningless in itself.
There are countless voices in this world.
He had seen the staff.
The only shape clearly remembered.
A dark gray body, a blue sphere encased by three sharp, angular pillars… If he was not mistaken, that blue sphere was an Orb crafted from Breath of Element and a mana crystal.
The Mado was also unfamiliar.
Nothing else.
Other than that, he had manipulated the Ring of Myriad Changes at a bizarre speed, dismantled a magic circle imbued with black flames, and had as his closest aides individuals capable of standing against Carindin and
I was had.
The information was absurdly insufficient.
Dahit turned his gaze.
The 50th ring, where the [Hourglass of Perpetuity] should have been stored, lay empty, cooling his head with a sharp chill.
"The other executives?"
At his question, Carindin, who was downing a supreme potion, replied.
"…Struck by the Transcendent's ambush, Revana lost consciousness. Though gravely wounded, she can be healed. But Molovas was killed instantly."
Molovas, one of Black Hour's high executives.
A dark mage specializing in physical black magic, who had developed a Mado to replace parts of his body with those of corpses.
He had been struck by a dark crimson lightning bolt, his body shattered into pieces.
Though he had been useful in many ways… he was by no means indispensable to Black Hour.
In terms of importance, Revana ranked far higher.
"Burn the corpse, recover the intact magic items."
Dahit showed no grief. Such things were inefficient.
That was also why he did not bother to punish those who had failed to capture the intruder.
Carindin understood Dahit's way of thinking all too well.
"But what about the Transcendent? If we trace the faint residue of spatial teleportation, we could pinpoint the coordinates and pursue him."
"The very fact that he chose spatial teleportation means he surely prepared decoys. We would not only risk losing the trail but might walk into a trap. Pursuit is out of the question."
Whoom.
Dahit forcibly opened his Mado, transforming the [Calamity of Revelation].
The Gauntlets of Pitch-black ignited with black flames, rising into the air and reshaping into the form of his usual staff.
"And is there any need to chase? Taking the [Hourglass of Perpetuity] means he will come back eventually. To seize my Black Hour."
"..."
As befit a Transcendent, Dahit had already calmed all emotions and was regarding the situation serenely… while Carindin struggled to control his expression.
The return of friends he had betrayed left his heart in turmoil.
"And what of the war with the magic tower alliance?"
"This assault was nothing more than a diversion by my former masters to benefit the Transcendent who infiltrated the Great Hall. Thus, withdraw the Western Continent front as far as possible. If we humor them any further, our forces will be needlessly wasted."
Dahit turned his body.
"Carindin Lerhar, until I return, summon all high executives to the Great Hall and have them remain assembled."
"Ah, understood."
Amwol, towering above his master as he issued commands, slowly began to walk.
He trod upon the bloodstains he himself had left, observing his own body.
Though far from enough to ruin the homeostasis of a Transcendent, he could feel that much of his mana circuits had been wrecked.
I will need to devote myself to recovery for a while.
The current Black Hour existed solely for a single Transcendent.
Naturally, restoring Dahit's full strength was the utmost priority.
"…Hm?"
A sudden thought struck him, furrowing his brow.
"Wait. If he truly holds the magic power of the power source, then that means he embodies the nature of magic itself… He could activate the [Hourglass of Perpetuity] at will without any device."
Of course, not immediately.
After all, he had taken the full brunt of
Even if he had not died, it would take quite some time before he returned to normal.
Anyway.
"Someday, you may come to see my research on the 'Ancient Mage in Ice'."
He did not particularly mind.
Even if one strayed from the original placement and searched through the jumbled records inside the [Hourglass of Perpetuity], the truly important conclusions had not been stored there.
It did not matter even if they were discovered.
For nearly all preparations had already been completed.
No one can interfere.
Yes, not much time remained.
The new age that would soon visit the world of magic would begin from him.
He was merely curious.
"…Just what kind of reaction will he show?"
On the other hand, Ignacia had been so satisfied upon hearing the story that he had gladly yielded superlative magic.
Recalling such memories, Dahit headed toward the secret chamber of the Great Hall.
***
At the place where the spatial waves of the
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[...]
Verden, Adrian, Isabella, Alpha.
All of them were so exhausted that they were close to collapse, too weary even to want to rise.
The tension had vanished, replaced by relief.
Among them, Isabella, who had sustained the worst injury—her right arm severed—raised only her upper body.
Blinking, she looked around.
White breath escaped her lips.
"…Snow?"
No wonder the skin touching the ground felt cold—everything around them was covered in snow. It should still be far from winter on the continent.
"Um… Patriarch? Weren't we supposed to head to the Western Continent first? According to plan, so Black Hour couldn't track the teleportation…"
"That's right."
Leaning his back against the ground, Verden replied.
Quietly catching his breath, he was unable to move even a finger.
[!]
Alpha tossed the [Hourglass of Perpetuity] with a flick, its single eye gleaming at Verden.
[Scanning… His Majesty Verden's condition critical. Mobility impossible. Severe physical overload. Absolute rest required.]
"I am quite fatigued. But not to the point of risking my life."
[Considering His Majesty Verden's resilience. Natural healing possible. Confirmed.]
Verden dismissed Alpha's concern.
Though his eyelids were heavy, he still had enough strength to converse.
Adrian, now that the excitement had ebbed, was overcome by searing pain, his expression dark.
Clutching his abdomen, he took a deep breath and asked.
"My lord, what went wrong?"
"As you can see, there was a problem with [Ainber]. Because of that, the spatial coordinates set for the
Verden's blue eyes moved slowly.
"I cannot say precisely, but this place should be…"
The view from the snowy white hill.
Under the star-filled night sky, an endless snowfield spread before their eyes.
"…the far north of the continent."
This was the end of the central continent's northern edge.
In short, Verden and his companions had crash-landed in the north of the continent.
***
They each checked their condition.
Adrian Chambers.
When Carindin's flames penetrated, his abdominal organs had been burned.
And when he cut through Dahit's magic once, his magic sword, Cadence, broke.
"Still, after first aid, it is bearable."
Isabella Argyle.
Thanks to the regeneration of her altered form, most wounds had healed.
Except for her right arm.
The flames imbued with the annihilating power of Dahit's Mado slowed her recovery considerably. To restore her lost arm would take time.
"…Ah, seriously. When I caught Rayshen, I lost my left arm. Now it's my right?"
Alpha.
The mini golem's right arm had almost half disintegrated, but otherwise, there was no issue.
However, because Verden's condition was poor, replenishing magic power was difficult, so magical functions would need to be restrained for a while.
[No problem.]
Lastly, Verden.
Having dueled in magic against Dahit Wethroel, he could exaggerate only slightly in saying that there was nowhere left uninjured.
The external wounds are nothing…
By driving Interis to move infinite magic at will, his already burdened mana circuits had overloaded.
The superlative magic was the decisive blow.
Swept by Dahit's annihilation, much of his strength had been drained and grievous internal injuries inflicted.
Without [Ainber]'s resistance, his limbs would not have remained intact.
At this level of injury… I can recover naturally enough.
This too, a privilege of a Transcendent.
"Haa."
According to plan, they had seized the [Hourglass of Perpetuity].
More than anything, Verden felt deep relief that no one had died in the Great Hall.
Now only one challenge lay before them.
…With the
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