Chapter 94

Chapter 94
“Array of Thunder”

Electricity started to arc over Alon’s form as he advanced.

“Disassemble.”

The dancing lightning broke apart into innumerable azure motes.

Simultaneously, Alon retrieved a Paladin’s blade that had been cast to the ground during the fight.

“Dissolve.”

The blue specks flowed into Alon’s form.

“All Things Circulate.”

His figure wavered, moving like a barely-there ghost.

“Form of the Thunder God.”

As a hand seal was completed, he transformed into pure lightning.

“Branches incoming!”

The moment the protective dome’s top was opened on Alon’s order, branches started to push their way in.

Hopelessness filled the eyes of all who witnessed it.

Yet, in that exact instant, Alon ripped through the encroaching branches and launched into the sky.

Boom!

Accompanied by an overwhelming thunderclap, fragments of shredded wood flew everywhere, outlining the figure of Marquis Palatio against a cerulean moon.

Suspended in the air, Alon watched the branches now targeting him.

‘Just as I thought, they’re slow.’
Even as the branches advanced, their lethargic pace gave him confidence.

Gripping the sword in his left hand, he reflected:

‘It’s near, but all the preparations are complete.’
Two factors had prevented Alon from acting faster until now.

The first was the duration needed to pinpoint Machina’s vulnerability.

Before this, Alon had never attempted to find the weaknesses of Outer Gods.

Outer Gods who hadn’t achieved full divinity typically retained the design of their proto-divine bodies.

Furthermore, most Outer Gods he had encountered were confined to a scale within his magic’s effective area.

Essentially, there had been no need to aim for specific weak spots.

This occasion, however, was an exception.

The Machina he faced was so colossal it eclipsed the reach of his spells and had immense regenerative power.

Simply put, random magical assaults were insufficient to destroy this foe.

But now, Alon clearly knew Machina’s weakness.

This was due to an artifact obtained in the Holy Kingdom—a game item named the Eye Eater’s Pendent.

In the game, this necklace enabled the user to gradually detect an enemy’s vulnerabilities after over ten combat turns, improving critical strike chances.

And now, the weakness was clear: the solar plexus.

Within Machina’s crimson branches and stony physique,

Alon saw a luminous blue humanoid shape located at the solar plexus.

He released a heavy breath.

‘One opportunity. My mana is nearly gone.’
Mana.

This was the second reason for Alon’s delayed action.

He hadn’t anticipated the situation escalating to this degree.

The majority of his mana had been expended during Anderde’s initial assault, when he used it to rescue Yuman.

Consequently, Alon required time to restore his mana.

Even now, the outcome was unsatisfactory.

His inherently limited mana reserves were almost entirely consumed in the blink of an eye it took to activate his magic and propel himself upward.

The amount that remained was so minimal it could fuel just one more incantation.

Though he had hastily consumed two potions in a row, risking mana addiction, the replenishment was agonizingly gradual.

Even at full capacity, Alon’s mana was merely a pittance.

In summary, absurd as it seemed, Alon currently lacked the capacity for any significant spell.

Under normal circumstances, that is.

“Phew—”

Letting out a deep breath, Alon aimed the sword in his left hand at Machina.

“Formation of Thunder.”

He spoke the words.

Crackle!

The moment the incantation was uttered, the sound of sizzling energy filled his ears.

The last dregs of his mana vanished completely, leaving him utterly empty in an instant.

“Ugh—”

Simultaneously, a sharp agony rushed through him.

His body convulsed in rebellion, incapable of yielding any further mana.

Still, Alon continued his chant.

Because the magic he meant to cast was not the Form of the Thunder God.

“Disassemble.”

Since his return from Raksas, Alon had committed himself to magical research—specifically, the efficiency of material manifestation.

For someone like him, whose scant mana would be exhausted by a single materialized spell, this study was crucial.

“Dissolve.”

Yet, after six months of endless trials, Alon had not succeeded in enhancing the efficiency of material manifestation.

Nevertheless, he had found something of great worth.

And that was—

“All Things Circulate.”

He could manifest the Form of the Thunder God not within himself, but within an object.

Crackle!

The sword in Alon’s left hand started to draw in the blue particles, its shape glimmering and shifting like a phantom.

This was a finding born purely from accident.

While frantically investigating methods to lower the mana cost of material manifestation, Alon had inadvertently made this breakthrough.

But now, at this very moment—

“Form of the Thunder God”

This chance discovery materialized as the most potent magic Alon could currently command.

Crackle!

The shimmering sword in Alon’s grasp suddenly blazed with blue lightning, unleashing brilliant white currents outward.

Clutching the sword as if ready to hurl a spear, Alon drew his arm back and extended the weapon’s form with a skillful manipulation of its energy.

What he forged was slender, elongated, and—

Crackle-crackle-crackle!

—a javelin infused with the keen, distinct force of lightning.

The instant everyone, Yuman included, saw Alon holding the lightning javelin beneath the blue moon, the weapon flew from his hand with immense power.

And then—

BOOOOOOM!

With a sound that seemed to shake the world, the lightning spear pierced straight through Machina’s solar plexus.

####

The second the lightning javelin hit Machina’s chest, everything stopped.

The gigantic roots that had been on the verge of devouring the entire Holy Kingdom crumbled into dust, carried off by the wind.

The massive hands that had been about to crush Yuman and the priests broke apart into white powder, drifting away like snow.

Thud—

Rumble-rumble-rumble—CRAAACK!

Machina’s formerly formidable body, made of innumerable branches, started to fall apart as its framework turned to ash.

Yet, rather than concentrating on Machina’s ruin, every person there, Yuman among them, had their eyes locked on one individual.

Under the blue moon, surrounded by drifting white ashes falling like blossom petals, stood a man.

Even after single-handedly vanquishing an Outer God, his face remained impassive, as if the triumph was merely expected.

That man—the Marquis Palatio.

Everyone could only look on in silent astonishment, a faint gleam of awe in their eyes.

But at the same time—

“This is terrible!”

Behind his blank expression, the marquis wore a look of genuine gravity and concern.

Everything had proceeded as intended.

Placing himself in the air to cast magic free from vine interference—check.

Locating Machina’s weak point using the Eye Eater’s Pendent—check.

Expending mana recklessly and taking two potions despite the danger of mana exhaustion—check.

Everything had gone according to plan.

Save for one crucial oversight:

He had not planned for what would follow Machina’s defeat.

To be more accurate, he had considered it.

After his attack, he intended to create an ice wall with magic, shape it into a curve, and make a controlled descent from the air.

Naturally, he knew that even with this method, the chance of injury was high.

However, since this was the Holy Kingdom, he was sure recovery would be fairly straightforward.

The priests of the Holy Kingdom, particularly those of bishop rank and above, could heal nearly any injury provided the person was still living.

But that was the essential point—the patient needed to be alive.

No matter how capable the priests were, they could not resurrect the dead.

‘I didn’t foresee the mana cost being this extreme…!’
As Alon regretted the unforeseen mana required to fine-tune the arrangement for Form of the Thunder God, he briefly considered his current dilemma.

Thunk.

He noticed that his rapid descent had decelerated.

And then, another understanding came to him.

“…Yutia?”

A gentle, white, cloud-like substance formed from divine power had broken his fall.

“You did wonderfully, my Lord.”

Soon, Yutia’s beaming smile, set against the blue moon, came into view.

Alon gathered his remaining energy to give a nod of thanks.

####

In the end, the Holy Kingdom’s festivities for the goddess Sironia’s birth were entirely suspended due to Machina’s abrupt arrival.

This was unavoidable.

Although Machina was finally destroyed, the harm inflicted upon the Holy Kingdom was devastating.

Even a nation as durable as the Holy Kingdom could not proceed with a celebration under such conditions.

As for Alon, the one who handled Machina—

“Are you feeling alright, Count? Or should I address you as Marquis now?”
“I believe I’ll be able to get moving again shortly.”

He received treatment for roughly two days in a hospital connected to the temple.

Externally, he appeared to have no major injuries.

The minor wounds he had resulted from his imperfect mastery of Form of the Thunder God, not from anything Machina had done.

However, the true problem was his mana core.

‘A full week to recover from mana depletion…’
Despite the risk of mana addiction from quickly consuming two potions, Alon had still fallen into severe mana exhaustion.

Consequently, he was confined to the hospital for at least a week.

But truthfully…

Alon was eager to get out of the hospital.

No, more than that, he wished to depart the Holy Kingdom entirely.

He had fulfilled his objective and had no remaining reason to stay.

His urgency stemmed from a simple cause.

“Marquis.”
“What is it?”
“You are a very sought-after man.”
“…”

Alon sighed. During his hospital stay, he had been subjected to the intensely weighty stares of the priests.

He looked toward the doorway, where priests walked past, their eyes brimming with veneration and esteem.

Speaking almost to himself, he stated, “To be honest, I’m not very comfortable with it.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”

Alon recognized that earning others’ respect wasn’t inherently negative. In fact, right after being hurt, feeling the priests’ admiration had been somewhat pleasing.

After all, everyone possesses a fundamental desire for acknowledgment.

But still—

‘Isn’t this excessive?’
It was overpowering for every single priest he met to gaze at him with such rapt admiration.

And, honestly, there was another motive for his wish to leave the Holy Kingdom promptly.

“Marquis, do you have a moment?”
“…Saint.”
“Yes, Marquis.”

The reason was Yuman himself.

“Ah, Marquis, now that I think of it, I’ve just recalled some information I must retrieve. I’ll excuse myself for a while,” said Evan, standing up the moment Yuman entered. He hurriedly left the hospital room.

Alone with Yuman, Alon ran his fingers through his hair.

“Well, please sit down.”
“Yes.”

Yuman sat with remarkable speed and immediately started talking.

“How are you feeling, Marquis?”
“As I mentioned yesterday, it’s manageable.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”

Yuman nodded, appearing comforted, then lifted his eyes to Alon with a look mixing esteem and deep reverence.

And Alon found it intensely uncomfortable.

Cultivating a positive relationship with Yuman wasn’t disadvantageous.

Yuman was, after all, fated to become Eliban’s key ally in the future.

But having him visit daily, looking at him with such admiration and reverence, was honestly more than Alon could bear.

Grateful for the concern but hoping to gently discourage him, Alon said, “I appreciate your concern, but it isn’t necessary to visit so frequently. Please, attend to your responsibilities.”

Yet—

“That is not possible.”
“…Why is that?”
“Because you and I carry the same duty, Marquis. No, the weight you bear is greater than mine.”
“…?”
“Knowing this, how could I possibly turn my back on you?”

Yuman’s eyes gleamed with even greater respect as he nodded firmly, reinforcing his resolve.

“…”

Alon could only stare at him, completely perplexed, as Yuman went on,

“I will never forsake you.”

With no way to comprehend Yuman’s inexplicable statements, Alon was left gazing at him, speechless.