Chapter 548 - Venting (2)
Elder Hiram.
As a direct subordinate of Balrog Bessias, he was one of the few authorities within the Bohemirn magic tower who could autonomously carry out unofficial experiments.
───His tier limit is the worst, but his magical knowledge is exceptional. Computational ability and other aspects as well. It's almost regrettable that he wasn't born with true talent.
Back when Verden was first dragged into one of the magic tower's unofficial laboratories.
It was he who, watching Verden's entire body bound by a magic circle, gave the above assessment among the Balrog division and assigned him the number 77.
Verden had many a bitter entanglement with him.
"A mage's lifetime makes three years not such a long time. But even so, neither you nor Rayshen has changed in the slightest. Pathetically so."
In the eyes that stared at the elder of the Bohemirn magic tower, heavy disappointment lingered, though mingled with a strange, emotional expectation.
At the utterly incomprehensible gaze, Hiram furrowed his brow.
"…An unfamiliar appearance. Who are you? How did you enter here?"
"It's not that you don't remember me, it's that you cannot recall me. The me in your head is already someone dead."
Verden tilted his chin slightly.
The shadowed face was exposed to the glow of the mana stone lamps, revealed in full.
"Do you recognize me now?"
"Recognize what nonsense…"
His words faltered.
Hiram's wary eyes slowly widened.
A head's silhouette that had seemed unfamiliar a moment ago, now somehow familiar.
The features, save for the grayed hair and pale eyes, looked strikingly similar—no, identical.
"77…?"
The number slipped from his lips, echoing lowly.
Impossible.
Confronting a test subject that should not exist in theory, Hiram shook his head, denying his own judgment.
"…A magic that, based on another's memory, induces individualized hallucinations and auditory illusions? I should have prepared countermeasures against mental interference. It must be that you developed some special Mado, or you possess a related artifact."
Hiram, analyzing the situation with reason, reached a conclusion close to certainty.
It was rational enough.
When faced with an unknown magical phenomenon interfering with mind and senses, dismissing it as such was statistically the most likely explanation.
Ultimately, it was denial of reality.
Just as Rayshen Tailroad had cried "fake" when pointing at Verden.
Whooong.
Hiram tilted his gnarled staff, its surface faintly reddish.
The artifact [Essence of Wooden Flame].
Four embers floated in the air, revolving on a horizontal orbit around the staff's head, casting light upon the darkness.
"By what means, and for what purpose, you dare intrude here, I do not know. But surely it is not with good intent. State your purpose."
It was a composed response.
No carelessness.
No matter the means, the location of the unofficial laboratory had been pinpointed, the unique magic circle of a transcendent had been breached, thus he could not afford to underestimate.
'Judging by the inability to determine his tier, his realm must be at least sixth-tier or higher.'
Furthermore, the magical items draped across his body were no ordinary thing.
'Avoid a clash.'
Better to hurry and alert the Bohemirn magic tower, gather the main force, than to suffer injury by recklessly engaging.
With that decision, Hiram glanced through several possibilities.
Then, Verden spoke.
"Hiram, unlike those upstairs, I do not intend to kill you so easily."
"What?"
"Show me your full power. Leave not a single pitiful excuse."
Verden, brimming with ease, lightly jerked his chin. A sign meaning, 'I won't interfere, so go ahead and struggle properly.'
Though Hiram still did not grasp the true purpose behind such words… he had no intention of wasting the opportunity his opponent had so boldly presented.
He stepped back slowly toward the experiment capsule behind him, speaking as he moved.
"I will awaken number 108. Just in case, keep your eyes on him."
"..."
There was no reply.
Sensing a strange undercurrent, Hiram tilted his head slightly.
The expression on Kullus, the host of Gluttony, had hardened completely.
***
Countless impulses, woven into primal instinct, all converged toward survival, making it most sensitive to death.
For life is the basis, the essence of all living things.
Fear is an emotion born to survive.
Tak, tak.
His teeth clattered.
His entire body trembled with a faint shiver that was almost impossible to suppress.
The three hearts, transplanted from different high-ranking mages, pumped mana and blood with furious vigor.
Kullus's chest heaved.
'What is that mage?'
Though the true power was not outwardly displayed, it could not completely fool the artificially enhanced magical sense Kullus possessed.
An overwhelming presence.
His instincts whispered that standing against him alone was suicide. His overstimulated senses made his ears ring.
Pushing aside the cluttered thoughts, he tried to sort the situation.
'He shows strong hostility toward Elder Hiram, so it seems clear he's an enemy of the Bohemirn magic tower…'
The reason didn't matter.
If the target was Hiram, then he could use him as bait, minimize conflict, and escape from the unofficial laboratory, that was enough.
As always, Kullus prioritized the choice instinct had picked—flight.
But that thought changed in the next instant.
Verden turned his gaze away from Hiram, who was operating the capsule.
His eyes shifted toward Kullus.
"So, you are the only host of Gluttony in this laboratory."
"?!"
He knows Gluttony.
That could mean only one thing about his identity.
Ark.
Not merely a candidate, but perhaps the very Captain himself.
"How did you get here…!!!"
Kullus, horrified, accelerated his thoughts in a burst, activating his mana circuits. Flames and wind burst from the four arms aimed forward, intertwining.
A wave of fire, infused with the vortex of the atmosphere, erupted violently. Smoke filled the air, blinding the view with searing heat.
Without hesitation, Kullus
Verden teleported into his path, blocking him. Not a single burn mark marred his form, even from a concentrated sixth-tier flame spell.
The Mystic Eye gleamed.
Interis, bolstered with rotational force, closed the gap in a blink.
Triple casting.
───Kwoooooooom!
The moment he was struck head-on by the gravity wave, Kullus was slammed straight down. His body smashed through the floor, even embedding deep into it.
"Kuugh… kuhk…."
Even though he had maximized his physical resistance with enchantment magic right before impact, one of his hearts was crushed, and one arm snapped.
Barely clearing away the debris, he pushed himself upright. A heavy spurt of blood poured out from deep in his throat.
Kkudeuk, kkudeudeuk.
Regeneration began.
The surging life force within his body restored the parts that had been damaged. It took mere tens of seconds for his whole body to return to its original state.
Verden, who had landed on the ground, observed the process with interest.
"They say that the hosts carrying a Red Fragment are stronger than others. It is indeed true. Tougher than you look."
"Khup."
Kullus groaned, swallowing the blood pooled in his mouth in a large gulp.
That was the moment.
Having watched the series of exchanges, Hiram spoke quietly.
"Gravity and spatial attributes. And to even know of Gluttony… I cannot at all predict what group you hail from, but, that you possess enough talent to stand against the Bohemirn magic tower alone, I can understand──"
"If you're going to spout trivial nonsense, shut your mouth. How long until preparations are complete?"
Though openly ignored, Hiram did not let out his emotions. Instead, he drew in a deep breath and raised his voice.
"Awaken."
Crack, crack.
The experiment capsule cracked greatly, then shattered completely. Transparent fluid gushed out, and the mage contained within stepped forth.
Draped in a robe bearing the insignia of his native magic tower, a short staff in hand, he swept back the wet hair covering his face.
Only then was his identity clear.
Someone Verden knew.
To be precise, a visage from Dahit's memory.
"Last year, in the war between Black Hour and the Western Continent Magic Tower Alliance, I heard that one of the Helion Tower's elders died with his corpse utterly destroyed. To think the real one was here."
"He did die indeed. But midway, we swapped the corpse, barely succeeded in keeping him breathing, and used him as a test subject."
Experimental Subject No. 108, Abram Rekin.
A high-ranking elder of the Helion magic tower, slain by Maybel Risonia Siller, a top executive and founding member of Black Hour.
Using techniques gained through dealings with Gluttony, the Bohemirn magic tower poured everything into transforming his brain-dead state into a new existence.
Having lost all reason, Abram was no longer a self-willed man. He was no different from a puppet that obeyed only orders.
Verden furrowed his brow.
"Utterly repulsive. And that is all?"
"Of course not."
Whooong.
Manipulating the magic circle on his hand, Hiram triggered a distant rumble.
The isolation chamber opened.
Along with it, a fierce murderous aura swept through the lowest level of the unofficial laboratory.
Verden's senses reacted.
'That familiar No. 70. A strong presence.'
They said she was once a disciple of a transcendent. The aura made it believable. As it drew nearer, a shadow appeared at the entrance of the left passage.
A woman with a cold expression, her footsteps faint, emerged. In her arms lay a Greatsword.
Experimental Subject No. 70, "Enette".
Once a disciple of the transcendent Master, wielder of all arms, but excommunicated for some reason, she was a powerful swordswoman.
Her mind unstable, her aggression toward others so severe that she had to be isolated separately, she was a special test subject.
Hiram, introducing the woman thus, added words.
"No. 70's basic behavior principle is composed purely of instinct. Among them, the protective instinct is especially strong, so within the range her senses reach, she always prioritizes killing the one judged to be most threatening."
Enette was glaring at Verden.
"…As expected, your realm is the highest here."
Hiram lowered his gaze, fully activating his mana circuits.
Unlike other elders of Itium, he was specialized not in battle but in research, yet even so he did not assume defeat.
With Kullus, No. 70, and No. 108 at his lead, he was certain he could not only expel the intruder but also secure the unofficial laboratory.
Rising tension.
At the center, Verden scrutinized No. 108 and No. 70 in turn.
'Abram Rekin is mentally completely dead, nothing can be done about him… but Enette, she might be recoverable.'
Two forced magic circles had taken root in Enette's head and body.
Unlike the structure branded on Adrian, he did not know what side effects there might be, but at least it was possible to break them.
Whooong.
Verden stored Interis into subspace. Seeing him put away his weapon, Hiram and his group asked with their eyes what he meant.
"It's easier to adjust force with these."
Verden displayed his two hands, clad in jet-black gauntlets, as he assumed his stance.
A blazing jet-black fire.
At the sight of the concept of annihilation, Hiram's eyes widened till they nearly tore. Overcome with shock, he faltered, letting out a trembling voice.
"T-that, that's, of the Dark Moon…?"
"There is much I want to ask you about the experiments the Bohemirn magic tower is conducting. But it seems you won't need those arms during interrogation."
Verden twisted his lips into a crooked grin.
"Don't give up too easily."
With his mana, he thrust his arms forward. At the same moment, Hiram, Kullus, Abram, and Enette moved reflexively.
The sharp-surging flame of Waning Fire exploded at the very center of the lowest level.