Chapter 792

The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

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― Kill the Saintess and seize the Sacred Stone.

That was the order from the Pope.

However, Darents couldn’t repeat that command word for word.

Because he didn’t know what the Dragon Lord was thinking.

“I… I only came here under His Holiness’ orders to confirm the fate of the Julien Mercenary Corps. Killing the Saintess… is not something I can decide.”

Darents subtly shifted the subject.

He repeatedly emphasized that he was merely a subordinate carrying out orders, that whatever happened was not by his will.

There was no way Arterion couldn’t understand what Darents truly meant.

And he already had a good idea of how the current Pope viewed the Saintess.

So, he spoke.

“The dragons made a pact with the Pope in order to fight the Demonic Abyss. Tell him that.”

Drrrrr…

Arterion’s intense aura coiled tightly around Darents.

“Instead of choosing a difficult path, stand against the Demonic Abyss with the Saintess. Promises are always open to interpretation. Do you understand?”

Though a pact had been made, the range of its interpretation was vast.

In other words, while the dragons could not openly interfere with the Pope’s affairs, they could always apply indirect pressure.

Darents, overwhelmed by the suffocating force, trembled as he bowed deeply.

“I shall… faithfully deliver your will, Great One.”

‘The Saintess is alive!’

Darents let out a faint sigh of relief.

If the Saintess was still alive, the Pope would be reassured for the time being.

Then Arterion’s voice pierced his ears once more.

“This is not advice. It’s a warning.”

He had never thought well of the current Pope.

Even at their first meeting, Arterion had sensed something deeply off.

In the Pope’s gaze, a strange emptiness and greed coexisted.

‘It was a look no ordinary human could have.’

But he couldn’t oppose the election of the Pope.

Only humans were allowed to choose the Pope, as decreed by ancient law.

Though he didn’t interfere with the election, he also never handed over the Sacred Stone despite the Pope’s persistent demands.

The dragons’ intuition had detected the ominous aura radiating from the Pope.

‘I thought he’d vanish soon enough—just another mortal…’

But that prediction had been wrong.

As the Demonic Abyss rose in power during this era, the Pope came to wield greater authority than anyone else.

Now, there was no helping it.

All that remained was to hope that the Saintess and the Julien Mercenary Corps could persuade the Pope without incident.

At this point, the only things Arterion could do were help strengthen the Julien Mercenary Corps and issue this warning.

Arterion continued slowly.

“The Saintess is alive. The Julien Mercenary Corps as well. So don’t worry—just return.”

“C-could I ask… how long they plan to remain here?”

Darents’ mouth was completely dry.

What if they declared they would live here permanently?

Things would get complicated. They might have to wait for them indefinitely.

Even if the Pope requested the return of the Saintess, they’d have to wait until the Dragon Lord was willing to release her.

Naturally, Darents had no desire to live like that.

Arterion replied with a voice full of mockery.

“Who knows… the Julien Mercenary Corps and the Saintess are trying to persuade me right now. I’m watching them because I find them interesting… but if you insist, I could send them back to you now.”

“Gah! N-no! I’ve confirmed they’re alive, so I’ll report that to His Holiness!”

Darents recoiled in shock and bowed once again.

If Arterion used him as an excuse not to hand over the Sacred Stone, his own life would be in danger.

Right now, it was best to retreat and await the Pope’s next command.

But Arterion had no intention of letting him go so easily.

“You’re the Pope’s envoy, so I can’t kill you. But leave behind one of your arms.”

“W-what are you saying…?”

“A price for your insolence. Be glad it ends here because of the pact.”

“O… O Great One…”

“Place your arm on the magic circle. I’ll let you choose which one.”

As Arterion finished speaking, the air around them turned oppressively heavy.

Darents, trembling, laid his left arm over the magic circle.

He had no idea what offense he had committed, but instinct told him that refusing would lead to something even worse.

Paaaah!

In that instant, a cold energy exploded from the magic circle.

The chill pierced his very bones and instantly froze Darents’ arm solid.

KAAANG!

A moment later, the frozen limb shattered, scattering into pieces.

Shards of ice flew through the air as Darents let out a groan filled with despair.

“Guhhh…”

Now he understood clearly.

What the dragon meant by “open to interpretation.”

They couldn’t interfere directly in the Pope’s affairs, but they could absolutely maim his subordinates like this.

Arterion’s voice echoed again.

“Go and report everything you’ve heard to the Pope. Tell him I’ll hand over the Sacred Stone if the Julien Mercenary Corps succeeds in persuading me. So wait.”

“…Understood.”

Darents turned and staggered away.

He gritted his teeth subtly, making sure it didn’t show on his face.

Rage burned within him but greater than the rage was the fear gripping him, silencing any thought of protest.

‘Just wait…’

“All he could do now was vow to one day kill the Saintess.”

Arterion gazed after Darents for a moment.

The reason he could still see him from so far away was because he had a special method.

Projected within the massive spear floating before Arterion was a vivid image of the altar’s surroundings.

He slowly turned his body and spoke.

“Is that enough for you?”

Ghislain nodded.

“Yes, thank you for your consideration.”

“Even with the pact, I could’ve killed that one. Taking out even a single Transcendent would make persuasion easier, wouldn’t it?”

Arterion’s words were true.

Putting pressure on the Pope to prevent any rash actions wouldn’t be a bad idea.

But Ghislain shook his head and said,

“There’s someone else meant to kill that man. I’d like to leave him to her.”

Ghislain had spared Darents for Marika. She wanted to take her revenge on him herself.

Sure, letting someone else carry out that revenge wouldn’t be terrible, but her true goal was to kill Darents and bring down Crips.

If Darents died now, her resolve and determination could weaken. It would likely leave her with a sense of emptiness and loss.

“I see. If that’s your will, so be it.”

Arterion responded indifferently, then lightly waved his hand.

Saaah…

With a single gesture, the projected image in the air vanished.

Ghislain, his face tinged with curiosity, asked,

“What kind of magic is that?”

“Nothing special. A mix of space magic and sight magic. It takes a considerable amount of mana, though.”

“Hmm, that’s impressive.”

As expected of a dragon—he spoke casually of a technique that consumed massive amounts of mana.

Of course, Ghislain believed that one day, he too would reach such heights. He didn’t doubt that future in the slightest.

For strong belief, in time, becomes the force that turns into reality.

And that belief… had been entirely offloaded onto Astion.

“Ugh! Why is it always me who has to do all the brain-breaking studying?!”

From the 8th circle onward, magic became a whole new level of complexity.

But Ghislain didn’t even blink.

He had absolutely no intention of doing that kind of headache-inducing studying himself.

So, within his consciousness, he passionately cheered on Astion.

—You can do it. I believe that I will definitely reach the 8th circle.

“Why are you trying to realize that belief through me?!”

—I believe in me, who believes in you.

“What kind of bullshit is that?!”

In the end, Astion had no choice but to stay up every night studying alone.

Well, not always alone.

Occasionally, Nakturah, an 8th-Circle Mage, would help him study under Arterion’s orders.

Of course, having failed to escape slavery, Nakturah harbored a grudge and took every opportunity to berate Astion.

“Are you stupid? Why can’t you understand this? Wait, are people this dumb becoming mages nowadays? Wow, back in my day, only smart kids were mages.”

Nakturah relentlessly hounded Astion with brutal criticism.

It was because he remembered being beaten the most by Ghislain.

However, he had no idea that the person who hit him and the one learning magic were entirely different souls.

So all the abuse was directed solely at Astion.

Berating Astion felt cathartic for Nakturah.

‘Yep, people really do need someone to talk to.’

Mages, by nature, enjoy solitude.

They prefer playing alone and pondering over mingling with others.

But that’s only when it’s by choice and within a normal society.

Being forced to live in isolation like this was far from enjoyable.

‘I’m having a blast!’

He secretly hoped the Julien Mercenary Corps would continue to stay here.

Even so, Nakturah dutifully reported Astion’s progress to Arterion each time.

That too was a part of Arterion’s orders.

Then, on the day Astion finally reached the 8th Circle despite all the harsh treatment…

Nakturah heard about a promise he hadn’t known existed.

“Did Astion reach the 8th Circle?”

“Yes, he’s still at the entry level, but he’s attained the realm of the 8th Circle. Would you like to verify it?”

“No need. If you say so, I believe it. That means it’s time for you to leave.”

“L-leave? But I must serve the Lord, mustn’t I?”

Nakturah was startled.

To him, “leave” sounded like a sentence of complete annihilation.

For a being who had become a lich to pursue immortality, total erasure was the most terrifying fate imaginable.

Arterion spoke with a hint of regret in his gaze.

“When you were temporarily extinguished, I made a promise that if Astion reached the 8th Circle, I’d hand you over to him.”

“T-to him?”

“Yes. You’re now Astion’s slave, and you must assist the Julien Mercenary Corps. Can you handle that?”

“Of course! I can absolutely do it!”

“Once Astion’s mastery matures a little more, I’ll transfer the contract. Keep that in mind.”

“I shall follow your command, my Lord!”

Nakturah shouted joyfully in his heart.

‘Perfect! This is perfect!’

Thank goodness his face was a skull—his expression didn’t show.

He was barely holding back the urge to jump with joy.

Living alone with a dragon in this land of extreme cold was terrifying, painful, and mind-numbingly boring.

But living alongside the Julien Mercenary Corps—doing anything at all—would be better than staying here. So Nakturah couldn’t help but feel delighted.

From that day on, Nakturah’s attitude changed drastically.

“Aigoo, you’re a genius, an absolute genius. I’ve never seen a genius like you in my life. Ah, must be a dragon in disguise!”

“…???”

“How can someone learn not just ten, but a hundred things from being taught one? Amazing. Where were you hiding until now?!”

“…???”

Astion made a suspicious face.

The same guy who had berated him every day was now suddenly full of praise—it was hard not to be skeptical.

And what made it even more unbearable…

“You must be tired from all that studying, huh? Look at those tight shoulders. Gotta loosen those up properly.”

…was that Nakturah kept trying to massage him with those thin skeletal fingers while he studied. It was downright creepy.

Astion stayed wary of the suddenly sweet Nakturah for a while, until he realized the reason.

‘That bastard only just found out Ghislain’s taking ownership of him!’

He had assumed Nakturah already knew, but it seemed he had only recently heard it from Arterion.

Once Astion realized that, he no longer felt any hesitation. It was finally his chance to pay back all the torment he had endured.

Whenever he felt tired or annoyed while studying, he worked Nakturah like a servant.

“Water.”

“…”

“Fruit.”

“…”

“Shoulders.”

“…”

Nakturah obeyed every command without complaint. A pitiful investment for a future of peaceful relations.

And so, Astion, having reached the 8th Circle, could now study more comfortably.

Meanwhile, every time he cast a spell once or twice, Ghislain would forcibly engrave it into his body and master it.

Whenever he saw that, Astion could only click his tongue.

‘Seriously, what a monstrous instinct.’

He still couldn’t understand how someone could learn magic like that.

To use the Power of Will to align with the laws of the world—this was a realm beyond even the Transcendent.

The rest of the group also improved rapidly. In particular, their mana had increased drastically compared to before.

As time passed, Ghislain grew even more ambitious.

‘If we could just train in this environment for a few more years, even Osval might reach the level of a Transcendent…’

“The manly Osval! Has once again grown stronger today—in a revolutionary way!”

Even lazy Osval was fairly content with life here, since there weren’t any life-threatening missions.

Having risked his life so many times in the past, he now considered training the lesser evil.

However, Ghislain’s wish was impossible.

Humanity didn’t have the luxury of time he desired.

On the third anniversary of their arrival in this place,

Arterion summoned the group and spoke in a grave voice.

“It seems… the time has come to move.”

“Has something happened?”

At Ghislain’s question, Arterion waved his hand.

The space around them rippled like water, and a dark, crimson scene appeared before their eyes.

“This was captured by another dragon in a crystal orb to deliver the message. It’s brief and unstable, but enough to understand the situation.”

Kaaaaaah!

Monstrous beasts rampaged through burning ruins.

Ghislain recognized those monsters.

Riftspawn.

Creatures from another world had finally revealed themselves.

Arterion, his eyes solemn, continued as he looked upon them.

“The army of the Demonic Abyss has begun to move.”

His gaze slowly turned toward Deneb.

“Sooner than we expected.”