Chapter 395 – No.77
Once, the prestigious House of Argyle of the Mado Kingdom possessed three heirlooms.
[Eye of Replication]
[Nucleus of Multiplication]
[Blood of Resurrection]
Materials of special entities, bestowed by the first Demon King, gained through subjugating beings that threatened not just countless lives but the very survival of neighboring countries.
Isabella had two of them stolen, yet there was one she could protect.
By consuming it herself.
***
The forced spatial teleportation manifested by [The Price of Phalanhard] was a different type than spatial magic materialized through actual magic power, making resistance impossible.
But there were two drawbacks.
One, it could not transport over long distances.
And another, if resistance was low, the body could be torn apart.
A hollow within a massive rocky mountain.
Sunlight poured down through cracks in the ceiling, the flow inside the cave reversed.
Soon, the twisted space exploded, two people bounced out.
"Guh…!"
Rayshen swiftly regained balance as he rolled across the ground.
Along with that, he pulled out his personal staff from his spatial bag, activating his mana circuits.
When his deep green eyes turned forward, there stood a woman, her body stained with blood from the assault on the safehouse.
Isabella could resist the forced magic circle, yet the aftereffects had left her body in tatters.
Especially her magic resistance, weakened, unlike Rayshen who had endured the spatial distortion in full.
"Haa, haa…"
Her left arm was entirely gone.
From the torn stump, blood gushed forth, the pooling crimson melting stone and exhaling poisonous fumes.
A faint mist of blood spread.
Rayshen, carefully watching Isabella, narrowed his eyes.
"Forced spatial teleportation… doesn't seem to be Mado or tier magic, so is it realized through an artifact? No way my escorts would have been wiped out like this, which means all three were likely teleported elsewhere. Nearby, at best."
Such analytical power befitting one of the authorities in charge of Bohemirn Magic Tower's unofficial experiments.
Rayshen simply marveled.
"Wow, this is the first time prey I planned to make into an experimental subject struck back like this. And to think the Melodist of Fortune, who performed in theaters, turned out to be none other than Isabella Argyle herself?"
"..."
"You don't quite look like what Senior Crodon described. Different hair, different eyes, I couldn't recognize you. Ah, so is this also a transformation caused by consuming the 'special entity's pure blood', just like how you resisted Master's magic circle? Am I right?"
The instant the name Crodon was spoken, Isabella's golden gaze wavered.
A murderous fury.
Knowing the truth, Rayshen licked his lips mockingly.
"Hm, normally, absorbing the [Blood of Resurrection] should've killed you instantly… maybe a phenomenon caused by clashing with Master's magic circle? Fascinating."
Blood, steeped in deadly poison.
Though Isabella had lost much already, she still breathed.
The bleeding slowed, wounds closing.
"This is no human, but a monster."
An undying test subject.
Exactly as Master said.
Rayshen's chest surged with excitement.
"Oh, right. Been wondering, why target me? You and I have no real ties. Planning to kill me instead of Senior Crodon?"
From the moment she sensed the pursuer, Isabella knew he was Rayshen Tailroad.
Crodon had once told her who Rayshen was.
Bloodshot filled her eyes.
"Having the same trash as a Master is reason enough to die."
"You hold a grudge against Master too? Ah… right. The heirlooms from House Argyle, those were things Master coveted. Senior Crodon offered them up to gain favor. Tsk, I see."
He shrugged.
"So, how will you kill me?"
A bolt of thunder struck.
Isabella, hit in the abdomen, spat blood and fell to her knees.
"I can tell you prepared something grand, but no matter how I look at it, I won't lose. The difference in power is simply too wide."
Rayshen was complete.
A robe and staff, both artifacts. The robe impervious to harm, the staff unrivaled in performance.
And Rayshen's own magical ability ranked at a national level, with secret trump cards yet unrevealed.
In contrast, Isabella, though regenerating, could barely stand.
"Tell me, what plan do you have left?"
Rayshen's goal was Isabella's capture.
To completely neutralize her and bring her to Bohemirn Magic Tower, he needed to remain cautious.
'The wounded beast is most dangerous to hunt.'
Never careless.
That was always Rayshen's creed.
At that moment.
"If you're that curious… I'll show you now."
Isabella clenched her teeth.
The hidden vial within shattered, bitter liquid spilling down her throat.
Consumable artifact, [Screamer].
One drop burns a year, two drops a decade, a suicidal means.
Isabella downed the whole bottle, igniting her life in an instant.
Crack.
Veins bulged across her entire body.
Blood wind surged, filling the cavern with overwhelming magic.
Her weakened flesh returned to a prime even greater than before. The realm, the magic power, surpassing Rayshen's.
"…What?"
Rayshen flinched.
Not because of the pressing mana.
Something seeped into his respiratory tract, invading his veins.
How?
The [Immaculate Robe] constantly blocked all external elements.
He hastily checked the artifact, eyes widening.
"What is this."
The formless barrier protecting him was unraveling, no, being gnawed away.
'Mere magic power nullifying artifact effects?'
Isabella's golden eyes gleamed with madness, her laughter low.
"Watch closely. This is the Mado I gained because of that bastard Crodon."
Her original Mado, transformed by the [Blood of Resurrection], a newly born Mado
Upon release, any organic or inorganic touched by Isabella's magic had its resistance weakened in real time.
A simple, yet alien and unique effect.
The waves of lightning Rayshen cast dissolved before reaching her.
A 6th-tier spell, disassembled in an instant.
Utterly unforeseen, Rayshen panicked, tried to flee, but his body refused.
"W-wait, this is…"
His frightened voice was delightful.
With little time left on [Screamer], Isabella turned it into a requiem, unleashing her full magic.
Thump.
Isabella and Rayshen became linked.
Literally one body for a time. Movements, wounds, shared as one mass.
She drew a dagger from her waist.
A blade chosen to resemble as much as possible the one her gentle little brother had used to take his own life for her sake.
As Isabella raised her right arm, Rayshen raised his.
"W-why is my resistance…?!"
The faces of her dead family surfaced.
For the last time, she recalled their names, their features, sharper than ever, pouring all her grief into her strike.
Stab.
The dagger pierced lungs and heart.
She twisted her wrist, shredding them beyond recovery.
The greater the pain, the stronger her grip.
"Aaaarghhh!!"
Together with Isabella, Rayshen's chest caved, his scream tearing the cavern.
Dark crimson blood sprayed from his lips.
Weeping blood, Isabella glared at him, forcing her arm deeper.
Crunch.
The blade broke through his back.
A fatal wound beyond compare.
Enough to kill Rayshen outright.
With the backlash of [Screamer], even her monstrous regeneration could not save her.
Thud.
Isabella collapsed weakly.
A similar thud sounded ahead. The bond dissolved, life draining away.
Finally, Isabella's eyelids grew heavy, her lips curving faintly.
She had not achieved revenge.
But she had vented her rage.
Let Bohemirn Magic Tower's wrath follow.
"Sorry… I'm coming."
At last.
Darkness swallowed her sight.
***
Head maid Marianne polished the mansion's windows, gardener Carver trimmed the trees with artistic taste.
Isabella lay in the yard, gazing at the clear blue sky.
The spring breeze blew softly.
Such a peaceful afternoon felt like a luxury.
"Sis! Look! I drew this better than yesterday!"
Her younger brother, Kael, proudly showed her a portrait of Isabella.
Hideous, yet lovely.
"Ehehe."
Isabella stroked his head, lavishing praise.
Then her younger sister, Xenia, approached.
Xenia was crying.
Startled, Isabella rushed over, asking, consoling.
Tears welled in her eyes.
"Sis Isabella."
Xenia held Isabella's hand.
"Sis, wake up."
Her tears fell onto Isabella's hand.
"Please, wake up."
***
"…!"
Isabella's eyes opened.
Breath, once severed, resumed, air rushing into her lungs.
Thump, thump.
Weak but steady, her heart beat again.
Isabella had not died.
'H-how…?'
She had burned her life away, forced her lungs and heart to cease.
Yet she survived.
No longer human, a malformed existence, called blessing by some, curse by others.
A monster.
She loathed herself.
Yet she was not the only one spared.
"Well, well. Didn't expect you to hide such magic. That hurt like hell."
"…?!"
Rayshen wiped blood from his lips, rose to his feet. Isabella's horrified gaze fixed on him as he spat.
Broken shards scattered.
"I had something hidden in my mouth too. Ever heard of an Elixir?"
Elixir.
The highest alchemical potion, said to heal all but death.
"Ah, of course, not a real one. More like an imitation I crafted. Side effect of shortened lifespan, but in exchange, even a burst heart recovers. As you can see."
He proudly puffed out his chest.
"The outside world is too dangerous without a spare life or two. Don't you think, Isabella Argyle?"
Footsteps drew closer.
Isabella, who had not yet fully regenerated, could neither scream in rage nor gather her remaining mana to cast magic.
Certain of his safety, Rayshen seized her hair roughly.
She desperately spat out toxic blood, but it could not pierce the barrier of the [Immaculate Robe], which had regained its function.
"A woman with regeneration like an Elixir… I wonder, will this missing arm grow back too? If I have her, I won't need any more test subjects."
"Ugh…!"
"Let's get out. This place is stifling."
Dragging Isabella across the ground, Rayshen stepped outside.
It was daytime, the sun bright.
Stretching briefly, Rayshen sent a bolt of lightning into the sky.
A signal.
Moments later, Sarokan and Barkent, who had been scouting nearby, regrouped.
"You two are my direct guards, yet don't you think you're late?"
"Apologies. We sensed a mana reaction, but it suddenly vanished, making it impossible to pinpoint the location. Fortunately, you captured Isabella in the meantime. Well done."
"Yeah, well done indeed. Hurt like hell. But what about Shedger?"
"Ah, well…"
Barkent handed over a robe.
It was what Shedger had been wearing.
"To report without falsehood, Shedger vanished, leaving only this garment and his belongings behind."
"Shedger, disappeared…?"
Rayshen blinked.
'Could he have died, twisted in space…? No, even if he's the weakest among us, his resistance isn't that poor. And even if so, there should have been traces of a corpse.'
Then why did he vanish?
Rayshen pondered deeply, but could not find the cause.
An incomprehensible phenomenon.
A chill of nameless dread crawled down his spine───
"Wait…!"
Suddenly, countless mana signatures approached from all directions.
Not ordinary ones.
Some, even to Rayshen and Sarokan, felt threatening.
At a glance, at least dozens.
Numerically overwhelming.
Any attempt to counter was pointless; they were already surrounded in a circle.
Soon, the mysterious group revealed themselves.
"To walk openly across the Central Continent after leaving Bohemirn Magic Tower, you beg for death, Rayshen Tailroad."
"How do you know who I am…?"
Shrring.
A young magus drew his sword.
"For the honor of Darkmoon, Dahit Wethroel, I shall offer your heads."
They introduced themselves as Black Hour.
***
To capture him alive without deviation, Rayshen and his direct guards had to be split apart.
To that end, first, they needed to mentally suppress them.
Simple enough.
Just invoke the name of an organization that Rayshen's party would accept as a real threat.
Thus, disguising Society as Black Hour was one of Verden's stratagems.
"B-Black Hour…?"
Rayshen faltered.
Naturally.
Black Hour's forces should have been clashing with other magic towers in the Western Continent. Their presence here made no sense.
Yet the situation left no room for doubt.
Cain advanced, mana circuits lit.
As distance closed, Rayshen, instinctively rational even in crisis, shouted.
"Barkent!"
Triple Casting.
The staff's embedded spell unleashed.
The mountain and forest were consumed by fire, black smoke billowing.
Vision clouded.
Whoosh!
Taking the chance, Rayshen, carrying Isabella, broke through the thinned encirclement with Sarokan.
Only Barkent stayed behind, buying time.
'Just as Senior said.'
Not a single deviation.
According to plan, six Society members led by Heras pursued Rayshen.
The rest, with Cain, engaged Barkent.
***
Kwagwagwagwang!
Magic clashed with magic.
Sensing the tremors from afar, Rayshen's face showed no composure.
'No matter how I think of it, it doesn't make sense.'
How did Black Hour know he had left Bohemirn Magic Tower?
Where had information leaked?
Even with an informant, this was impossible.
And that wasn't all.
'How did they know I'd be here?'
Even Isabella's spatial teleportation had caught him off guard.
So was it just bad luck? No, Black Hour's calm reaction was too practiced.
His mind tangled.
For now, escape was priority.
Even Rayshen could not endure Black Hour's full might, mobilized to kill him.
Their danger rivaled Bohemirn itself.
Beside him, Sarokan shouted.
"Lord Rayshen! Beware!"
"What───"
Kwagwagwagwagwagwagwang!
A massive beam scorched nature itself.
Barely erecting magic to defend himself, Rayshen lifted his gaze.
There, the young magus from before, sword in hand, now stood with a dozen followers.
"Where do you think you're running, with me here?"
Society's reinforcements, Unia, flicked her staff in provocation.
The mana she radiated rivaled Rayshen and Sarokan.
Rayshen bit his lip.
"Damn it… how many Black Hour did they bring?!"
"I will face that woman. Go."
Sarokan's duty was to protect Rayshen.
It was loyalty to the supreme master of Bohemirn.
"Fine, then hold them. Even in death, hold them!"
If Sarokan stalled, time would be bought. If he died, the forced circle would collapse, alerting Bohemirn.
With luck, Master might cross space through Gargant immediately.
Thinking fast, Rayshen accelerated with Isabella in tow.
Over ten pursuers followed.
Sarokan faced Unia's group.
"To send a half-grown brat from Black Hour, what a joke."
"Such childish provocation. Bohemirn Magic Tower is wasted on you. Or perhaps, that's exactly your level."
Venomous words.
As if promised, both flared their mana, staffs thrust simultaneously.
Blinding light.
Two national-level powers collided.
***
Whoooosh!
Rayshen fled at full speed.
Senses spread wide, calculating shortest routes, devoting everything to losing his pursuers.
It seemed to work; the pursuit weakened.
But he could not run forever.
He had to hide, then secretly use the spatial teleport Master had given him, to return to Bohemirn in the West.
At all costs.
Then, a massive rift───a languid crack, appeared before him.
'…! There!'
Rayshen knew.
Then, displaying agile flight, he reached deep into the fissure at remarkable speed.
Whoosh!
Immediately, he drew a high-grade concealment circle at the entrance.
Not only that, from his spatial bag he took out two Dexar's 2nd-gen jewels, each inscribed beforehand with different high-grade circles, and activated them in all directions.
In a blink, a sealed space was formed, leaking no mana.
"Phew."
Rayshen, having quelled the immediate crisis, finally exhaled.
Then, a faint voice.
"After all that boasting, you, who recovered from torn lungs and heart, are scared of Black Hour? Watching you scurry like a rat is amusing."
Partly regenerated, Isabella mocked him.
"I pray, may Black Hour capture you all, and tear you limb from limb."
"Why are you so desperate for me to die?"
"…Why? Wrong? Then tell me, what did I do wrong? My beloved family killed, our heirlooms stolen by Crodon and your Bohemirn Tower…! Our mansion destroyed, our garden burned! Tell me, what wrong did we commit? We only lived in peace. What did we ever do to you? Speak!!!"
"Ah, noisy."
Rayshen bared his teeth.
"You're the one who told Senior about House Argyle' secrets, so who are you blaming? If you'd just kept your mouth shut, none of that would've happened. If not for you, your pathetic family would still be alive."
"..."
"Crazy bitch. If you lack power, at least know your place."
Isabella, listening blankly, soon shook with bitter laughter.
Tears of blood streamed down her reddened eyes.
"Please. Please, may you all die. Cruelly, regret your birth itself."
"Say what you will, the world belongs to the strong, like Bohemirn Tower. The weak, they're only words. Like you."
The weak are devoured by the strong.
A truth unchanging, even as eras, even as magic advance.
Always.
Even now.
"Logic of power. Not wrong."
From deeper inside, a presence.
Ting───a metallic sound, something rolled on the ground.
A coin, engraved with a beautiful woman's face, clinked to a stop at Isabella's knee.
Rayshen turned his head.
A stranger, platinum robe pulled low to hide his face, sat perched on a rock.
'What, since when…'
He hadn't sensed him.
No matter the chaos, no matter if detection wasn't his forte…
To miss someone this close was unnatural.
Then the man spoke.
"Still mimicking that kid's tone, Rayshen Tailroad. Still looking at weaker humans only as test subjects. Nothing has changed."
"You… who are you. Do you know me? Are you Black Hour?"
"Still fragile against variables beyond your control. That voice should be familiar, yet you fail to realize who I am."
The man lifted his hood.
"If I said, 'Test Subject No.77', would you remember?"
"Hah, what bullshit…"
Oh.
Rayshen's lips froze mid-word.
Then, his pupils trembled as he stared.
Blue eyes, ash-grey hair, unfamiliar.
Yet the facial shape, the features, far too familiar. Of course. How could he forget?
He still remembered vividly the most special test subject, the one who made monumental contributions to Bohemirn, whom he dissected countless times.
Inevitably, he spoke the name.
"…Verden?"
The dead had returned.
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