Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The brilliant flare that had momentarily washed the white plain in light, seizing the attention of all onlookers, persisted for only a heartbeat. When that brief moment ended, the snowy field, now nothing more than swirling dust and a blizzard of fine particles, settled back into its dull, ashen hue.

A deep silence fell. It was so absolute that even the softest inhalation seemed a transgression. The only sounds were the faint trickle of shifting pebbles and the settling dust, as the survivors looked upon Alon with a spectrum of emotions.

The soldiers’ faces were etched with veneration. The knights’ eyes shone with newfound hope. Yet Alon, the recipient of this awe and hope, maintained a completely blank countenance. To be more accurate:

‘Please, please, please.’

He was praying with desperate intensity. His most sincere wish was for that single strike to have annihilated the Outer God. But—

“Ah.”

A soft, regretful murmur from nearby confirmed that his prayers had gone unanswered. The giant stood with his arms raised in a triumphant pose, his face turned to the sunset in an ecstasy of joy, despite the massive, gaping hole that pierced clean through his chest.

[Impressive.]

The low voice resonated. The sight of the giant, beaming with such brightness while his heart was destroyed, instilled in the soldiers and knights a reverence that went beyond mere fear. For Alon, however, it was a plunge into bottomless despair.

‘It’s over.’

His attack had unquestionably landed a direct hit on Ulthultus. The issue was that it had only obliterated the heart, rather than erasing the entity’s entire form.

‘…Was the power not enough?’

Objectively, for a mage who had only just ascended to the third tier, the fact he could muster such force was due to a confluence of factors. Among them, the constraints he imposed were pivotal. The use of Babylonian phrases and bestial power were notable restrictions, but this time, the limitations he had set were even more severe.

In fact, specifying a ‘species’ or a ‘specific enemy’ in a constraint amplifies the pure power of a spell by over 100% and 200% respectively, even by the rules of the game. Furthermore, the lengthy incantation time, normally unthinkable for an offensive spell, had stretched to dozens of seconds. This was only possible because his opponent made no attempt to evade. By preparing auxiliary magic to set the coordinates at the spell’s initiation, allowing for an even greater concentration of power, he had finally managed to unleash a spell of that magnitude.

In essence, the magic he had just cast was Alon’s ultimate and only trump card at this point in time. Consequently, with this attack’s failure, Alon’s defeat was assured. He had indeed destroyed the Outer God’s heart, but the destruction of a single heart would not cause an Outer God to vanish.

As if to prove this point, Ulthultus remained proudly in place, his broad smile undiminished. His body was covered in severe burn marks and his chest was a cavernous void, yet that majestic smile persisted.

[Ah— I understand. So you were still clinging to your will.]

Uttering words that only Alon could comprehend, the giant spoke in enigmatic tones, prompting Alon to lower his hands, which had been clasped together in a sealing gesture.

Even now, the effects of the high-grade potion continued to mend his body. Though still uncomfortable, he had recovered enough mobility, but that meant very little. Having exhausted all the magic stored in his bracelet with that final spell, Alon no longer possessed the strength to keep fighting.

Because of this, his expressionless face hid a somber mood as he lifted his gaze, puzzled by Ulthultus’s next words.

“?”

At that moment, he saw it. Ulthultus’s body was slowly beginning to fade. Reflecting the light of the setting sun, the giant started to vanish from his feet upward, and Alon’s face showed bewilderment.

‘Is he… disintegrating?’

The thought flashed through his mind, but Alon quickly dismissed it. He had never witnessed an Outer God’s dissolution occur in such a way. His moment of confusion passed.

[Impressive, noble one. I never imagined you would carry ‘rank’ within you as well.]

Though Alon was perplexed by the Outer God’s statement, he kept listening.

Boom!

With a great smile, Ulthultus sat down heavily, propping his chin on a hand before speaking again.

[Noble one, though our exchange was but a single clash, it was truly magnificent. Indeed, the ‘black one’ and the ‘blue one’ have chosen well.]

“…?”

Alon, confused by the sudden voice in his head and the cryptic words, felt a surge of questions. Of course, his face remained a mask, betraying none of his inner turmoil, so Ulthultus continued.

[Since I have been defeated in our duel, I shall grant you a gift. I shall also bestow upon you an authority.]

He grinned.

[Remember us, we who preserve the mystery and legacy of the forgotten great god.]

By now, nearly half of Ulthultus’s form had disappeared, and his disintegration seemed to be accelerating. Still, he smiled even more warmly and spoke again.

[When the ‘Usurpers’ crawl free from their restraints, summon me. Call upon my true name, not the false, derogatory titles they have spread.]

He continued.

[For you have earned that right.]

And then—

[Call me—]

With those final words,

[The God of Chaos and Disorder.]

The accessory that had been tied at the Outer God’s waist fell to the ground, and he vanished completely, leaving behind only a lingering smile filled with anticipation.

“…?”

Alon, having witnessed the Outer God’s total disappearance, stared blankly at the leftover accessory. Bathed in the sunset’s glow, he gazed impassively at the spot where the Outer God had been. This sight was observed by the soldiers and knights.

As the living watched, a wave of reverence spread through their ranks.

***

After the giant vanished, the land, once bitterly cold and filled with the whispers of the dead, fell into a deep silence, the void now occupied only by a sharp, cutting wind. The restless undead, who could not truly die, had finally found peace, and the living began the grim task of gathering and sorting the remains of the fallen.

Roughly a day later, their mission to capture the Outer God accomplished, the expedition began its journey back to Caliban.

About two days after that, as Alon traveled back with the knights, just as he had on the journey north, three significant changes had taken place.

“Salute!”

The first was that nearly every knight now saluted Alon when their eyes met him. While the relationship between wizards and knights had never been particularly hostile, a degree of professional rivalry had always existed. Wizards, being more scholarly, were distinct from those who used magic purely for combat. Their relationship had been cordial yet distant, but never marked by this level of mutual respect.

Yet now, whenever Alon simply stepped outside his carriage or tent, he would receive salutes from everyone nearby, regardless of which unit the soldiers or knights belonged to. This was the first major change Alon experienced.

The second:

“Vice-Tower Master.”

“Yes, yes…?”

“I just have a question I’d like to ask.”

“W-Whatever it is, please go ahead…!”

Penia’s misunderstanding had somehow intensified in a peculiar way. Seeing her tremble like a leaf the moment he addressed her, Alon wore a troubled expression.

“I believe you’re misunderstanding something—”

“I’m not misunderstanding at all…! You’re a 2nd-tier mage, aren’t you?!”

Penia exaggerated, her voice quivering and her eyes shaking slightly, making her look pitiable. Apart from that, Alon began to feel a touch of indignation.

“…I’m a 3rd-tier.”

“Oh, th-that’s right!! You’re a 3rd-tier mage! My mistake…!”

Penia nodded furiously at Alon’s calm, though slightly offended, tone.

“…But why does the Vice-Tower Master of the Blue Tower speak so respectfully to someone who is only 3rd-tier?”

“Oh, th-that’s… is that so? Perhaps I should start using informal speech…!”

Penia, now speaking like a malfunctioning doll, attempted to switch to a casual tone, which caused Alon to sigh in resignation.

“…Just speak in whatever way is most comfortable for you.”

“Ah, understood. Th-thank you…!”

Penia immediately reverted to formal speech, bowing her head in gratitude. As Alon received thanks for simply allowing her to continue using honorifics, he felt like some sort of cruel manipulator and quickly changed the subject.

“By any chance, do you know anything about ‘the black one’ and ‘the blue one’?”

“No? I-I don’t know anything.”

“…Really?”

“Yes, really, I know nothing at all.”

Penia shook her head vigorously, as if she were entirely ignorant.

“If you know anything, just tell me.”

“I truly don’t know. I’ve never seen anything black or blue.”

Her rapid reply left Alon speechless, wondering if she had even taken a moment to think. Realizing he would get no useful information from her, he nodded.

“Well then, I’ll be going…!”

As she practically fled, her mouth twisted into a strange smile, as if escaping the conversation brought her immense relief. Watching Penia run off, Alon felt oddly wounded.

As Penia retreated into the distance, Alon noticed a mage watching her with reverent eyes. Alon recalled the keywords the Outer God had uttered.

‘The black one, the blue one, the sign and mystery of the forgotten great god, the rank, the heir of will, and authority.’

The only thing Alon could deduce from all this was one point:

‘The “heir of the forgotten god’s sign and mystery” is definitely something I heard when I placed the restriction through the ring… but beyond that, I know nothing.’

Alon absently touched his forehead. Truthfully, there were many things he could not comprehend. While it was fortunate, he still didn’t understand why the Outer God, who shouldn’t have been destroyed by such means, had disintegrated after that attack.

And that wasn’t all. He couldn’t grasp what Ulthultus meant by “the black one” and “the blue one,” nor did he understand the meaning of “rank.”

‘If the only rank I know in this world is divine rank, but it can’t be that, can it?’

Alon was also baffled by the true name Ulthultus had revealed—”God of Chaos and Disorder.” That name felt alien, more fitting for an Eastern deity than the northern barbarian god he was familiar with, leaving him deeply confused.

‘Perhaps I’ll understand if I go there?’

Alon pulled out the accessory from his robe. It was the leather ornament, with three amethysts set in a row, that had belonged to the Outer God, Ulthultus—no, the “God of Chaos and Disorder.” In the game, this was an item obtained after defeating him, and its effect was to precisely double the user’s damage output.

However, when equipped, the damage received was also doubled, leading players to call it the “glass cannon belt.” As Alon examined the inside of the ornament, he soon discovered an inscription that hadn’t been there before.

“To the heir of the will, journey to the ancient city of Kahara.”

Seeing these words, which were not part of the belt’s original design, Alon easily deduced this was the gift left by the Outer God, and he began to think.

‘…Getting there shouldn’t be too difficult.’

The ancient city of Kahara, as its name implies, no longer exists in the present era. However, Alon had a rough idea of its location. That was because, in the game, it was one of the secret dungeons accessible after arriving at the “Colony.”

So, as Alon made his way back to the carriage while studying the belt’s inscription—

“…There you are.”

“Ah, Deus.”

He noticed Deus, who had, at some point, begun following him, his expression as inscrutable as ever. Watching Deus, who seemed no different from usual, Alon felt a slight unease. That was because Deus represented the third major change Alon had experienced since beginning the return to Caliban.

Of course, outwardly, Deus hadn’t changed much. He carried himself with a slightly sharper tension, but it was barely perceptible, with no significant visible difference.

Still, the reason for Alon’s disquiet was—

“…Count.”

“What is it?”

“Shall I kill the Vice-Tower Master?”

“…Why…?”

“…She used informal speech with you, Count.”

Deus had become more proactive in expressing his loyalty since that day, which made Alon uncomfortable.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“…Understood.”

Though not obvious, Deus seemed somewhat disappointed by Alon’s refusal, leaving Alon with a peculiar expression.

“Well then, Count.”

“…Now what?”

“Shall I make an example out of a few of the wizards?”

‘What is wrong with you?’

Alon felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.