Chapter 266

Chapter 266 – ……Again, Slap!

A crimson-hued sky was the first thing Aster saw when his eyelids fluttered open.

Regaining consciousness, Aster blinked repeatedly in succession. He was attempting to grasp his current circumstances.

“……I’m still breathing?”

The memories prior to blacking out remained crystal clear in his mind.

Eliminating the remaining Decullan spellcasters one after another, trading final, lethal strikes with Zaipo. His own magic skewering that man’s chest……

While Zaipo’s counter-spell simultaneously impaled his own torso.

“At the very least, my physical state seems intact.”

He didn’t require a physical inspection to confirm this.

His overall state felt superior to any point in his past.

In fact, calling it his peak would be an understatement—it transcended that entirely.

An astonishing, peculiar rush of life force coursed through his veins.

Though the scenario defied logic, Aster suppressed his rising doubts and scanned the area. Or rather, he attempted to do so.

As he instinctively made an effort to sit up, a substance blanketing his frame drifted away with a faint, rustling sound.

“What is this……”

The material coating his flesh turned out to be a brilliant golden powder.

He gathered a small palmful of it, scrutinizing it intently. Beyond its radiant yellow hue, the consistency and sensation resembled the residue remaining after complete incineration.

Even so, instead of making him feel filthy, it offered an odd sense of solace. Could it merely be a trick of his mind?

Aster toyed briefly with the dense coating of dust that had swaddled him, then shifted his attention to the landscape.

The environment before him was entirely strange.

“……This definitely isn’t the Torres territory.”

That fact was indisputable.

The reason being.

No elevations of this magnitude existed within the Torres area.

Though that region was packed with mountain ridges of various scales, none of their highest crests had ever seemed to touch the heavens quite like this.

Consequently, he raised his gaze to determine his position utilizing the constellations, but unfortunately, dawn was already breaking.

……To review the situation.

‘First and foremost, I survived.’

His physical form was completely flawless.

The remaining riddles were his awakening in an unknown locale and the method of his deliverance from death. That encapsulated the dilemma.

Yet, he did not ponder the matter extensively.

The baffling occurrences that frequently plagued him tended to become logical once a single piece of the puzzle was inserted.

And what might that piece be?

Defying Heaven.

This was hardly an unfounded assumption.

For the simple fact that.

‘……The third Fire Mark.’

Unbuttoning his tunic to inspect his sternum, the Fire Mark bestowed upon him by Baharmut had grown faint.

Thus, it was undeniably linked to Defying Heaven.

The true conundrum lay in how such a phenomenon could even manifest.

At that realization, Aster clicked his tongue with a look of annoyance.

“……Tch.”

He had been completely out cold, so how could he possibly deduce the mechanics?

But it mattered little.

Despite losing consciousness, there existed a witness nearby capable of clarifying matters.

“Wyvern.”

Aster summoned the beast while sinking back down against the earth.

The mysterious golden dust enveloping his form yielded a pleasant warmth, and given his reclined posture, he decided he might as well enjoy a few moments of leisure.

While resting motionless, his gaze fixed on the illuminating firmament.

“……?”

Aster cocked his head sideways.

“Wyvern?”

What was going on?

Under normal circumstances, the creature would rush forward with immense enthusiasm the instant he showed signs of movement, yet it was nowhere to be seen.

Had it wandered off to some distant place?

‘……Wyvern?’

Reaching out via their telepathic connection this time, a sudden wave of unease washed over Aster, causing him to sit bolt upright, his features stiffening.

……The spiritual tie linking him to the wyvern had completely vanished.

“……Impossible.”

It was surely an error on his part. Such misjudgments were common enough.

A broken pact would signify that the beast had intentionally severed their ties, a notion that seemed utterly ridiculous.

It was far more plausible that his sensory perception was temporarily dulled due to his erratic internal state.

“Wyvern.”

Aster projected his voice once more, a faint quiver underlying his tone.

The waning power of Defying Heaven.

The yellow sediment shrouding his skin.

A dark, unsettling foreboding persistently crept into his thoughts.

……No, it had to be a mere figment of his paranoia.

The resemblance between the golden residue and the beast’s coloration was undoubtedly a coincidence he was misinterpreting.

Rustle.

The manner in which this dust drifted weightlessly, retaining an unusual warmth…… that had to be an error in judgment as well.

Rejecting the grim possibility, Aster forced the edge of his mouth into a slight smirk. He convinced himself he understood the true nature of the situation.

“Blast it, tch. This is precisely why dealing with spirits is such a hassle.”

The reality was transparent, wasn’t it?

Two parts in the morning, one part at night. It was likely harboring deep resentment over his unfulfilled pledges regarding the moonstones. Furthermore, witnessing that final, desperate conflict…… indeed. It must have decided that remaining by his side without proper compensation was far too troublesome.

Alternatively, witnessing him hovering at death’s door, it seized the perfect opening to abandon the agreement entirely.

“Good grief, talk about a lack of fidelity. I explicitly stated I would hand them over once the ordeal concluded.”

Aster offered a futile complaint before dropping back to the ground.

Yet, regardless of his attempts to mask his anxiety, his fingers continued to mindlessly sift through the shimmering yellow ash.

Moments later, Aster leaped to his feet with sudden urgency.

“Dammit, could it really be?”

Could this substance actually be the wyvern?

The concept defied all rationality.

While the manifestation of elemental entities was standard, leaving behind tangible, physical detritus was entirely unprecedented.

Furthermore, regardless of the miraculous nature of Defying Heaven, would it possess a function to mend his injuries by sacrificing a spirit? If such a capability existed, why hadn’t it activated during the heat of combat or on previous occasions……?

……His mind degenerated into a chaotic web of speculation.

Every detail he had initially perceived as a blessing now sent a shiver down his spine.

No, that was highly improbable.

The creature had likely fled under the assumption that he had expired. Or perhaps it departed out of sheer greed for a single moonstone. As for the convenience of the moment? ……It must have possessed its own motivations. Such beings were notoriously erratic; it was a well-known trait.

……Then why did this heavy dread persist?

Having stood up, Aster dragged himself out from the dense heap of yellow residue and dropped to his knees in front of it.

Rustle.

Clenching a fistful of the substance, the golden grains disintegrated into fine soot, breaking apart as the breeze caught them.

“This is just a trick, isn’t it?”

……It couldn’t be reality.

“The greedy thing just ran away, right?”

……That had to be the truth.

He would honestly prefer it if the creature had deserted him because the circumstances had grown too perilous. This terrible, suffocating intuition simply had to be false.

However.

No response echoed back.

……Instead.

Whoooosh—

A violent gust of wind swept across the peak as if to answer him.

“……Ah.”

Aster released a heavy breath, his eyes tracking the yellow dust as it dissolved into the howling currents.

Why did it have to occur at this specific moment?

He gazed vacantly at the unfolding sight, paralyzed by a sense of utter impotence, yet the gale only intensified.

Observing the sediment as it progressively dispersed into nothingness, Aster found himself forced to acknowledge the grim reality.

……The underlying cause remained a mystery to him. Yet a single truth stood irrefutable.

The wyvern was no longer in this world.

A stark, unyielding truth that no amount of denial could alter.

“…….”

Perhaps it was the harsh mountain breeze causing his eyes to water. Remaining on his knees, Aster drove his forehead hard into the dirt. Underneath the expansive heavens, at the pinnacle of the towering crest, upon a meager plot of land no larger than a palm, a sudden downpour began. His slender frame shook against the persisting cold of the winter season.

……The dimensional container, thirty-three precious moonstones, and a mere ten days of joyful companionship with the wyvern.

[Do, regret?]

Aster replied aloud.

“Yes. I do, regret it deeply.”

A full ten days remained for it to experience joy. Why did its departure have to be so premature?

[Give, moonstones?]

He possessed an abundance of moonstones ready for the taking. Yet what purpose did they serve under these circumstances?

Remorse invariably manifests long after the opportunity has passed, regardless of one’s speed, and squandered moments can never be restored.

[Morning, lunch, dinner, three.]

Whether it was three or four meals mattered little now……

“……?”

Aster’s eyelids flickered.

The moist earth sat directly beneath his nostrils. Strands of his hair shifted, yet it was not due to the atmospheric currents. ……Rather than shifting, it felt more like……

Thwack, thwack.

An object was repeatedly tapping against his cranium.

Confused, he raised his face.

Whack!

A cord-like object lashed out with sudden velocity, striking his cheek and forcing his head sharply to the flank.

“…….”

Aster blinked repeatedly, keeping his gaze averted where it had been driven.

[No, answer. Go, me.]

……There was no doubting it.

This was no trick of the mind.

Aster slowly rotated his head, utterly bewildered. Immediately following that movement.

He released an empty laugh, all the tension evaporating from his frame.

“What on earth……”

In the exact location where the mound of golden residue had rested.

How could one even classify such a specimen? A gilded reptile? No, it wasn’t a mere reptile. It possessed appendages for flight.

Yet designating it as a wyvern felt equally inaccurate. Its appearance closely resembled a drake.

The peculiar, reptilian-shaped entity lay fully extended, its rear limbs pointing straight out, its chubby midsection expanding and contracting rhythmically with its respiration. The instrument that had delivered the blow to his face was none other than the beast’s tail.

As he remained frozen, observing the spectacle.

……Whack, once more!

“…….”

Receiving a subsequent blow to his face, Aster knitted his eyebrows together. Right then, an auditory message echoed in his mind.

[Primitive human. Lower, head.]

Following this majestic pronouncement from the miniature reptile, Aster shifted his gaze once more.

“……Wyvern?”

He muttered in a state of utter shock.

The reptile retorted.

[Wyvern? No. This body is……]

The creature arrogantly elevated its jaw line. As its jaws parted, Aster’s expression twisted in disbelief.

[Great dragon.]

……A dragon?

“What absolute nonsense……”

Aster’s declaration was abruptly cut short.

Smack!

The appendage of the self-entitled supreme reptile lashed against his skin.

[This body, dragon. Friend, primitive.]

……An undeniable truth emerged.

The entity resting before his eyes was indeed the wyvern. It had simply become far more conceited and discourteous than its previous iteration.

Perhaps that accounted for his reaction.

A subtle grin formed on Aster’s mouth, a sudden warmth flushing his vision. His face burned intensely…… scratch that, the agony was quite sharp, yet the sensation brought him nothing but immense relief.

Within the private quarters of the Decullan family head.

“……An anomaly has occurred.”

The military leader who had rapidly retreated to the primary residence kept his face pressed against the floorboards, offering a profound prostration. He had journeyed back specifically to deliver a firsthand account of the events observed within the Torres territory, yet a subtle tremor shook his entire frame.

His terror was entirely justified.

The utter eradication of two distinct magic regiments.

Furthermore……

The demise of two prominent figures belonging to the Seven Mages.

A catastrophe of this magnitude was easily sufficient to provoke the absolute fury of the house leader.

Template, the subordinate remained motionless and apprehensive, suppressing even the sound of his breath, until a calm tone broke the silence.

“It seems Zaipo and Coxen met their ends in that location.”

“……Correct. We managed to secure the corpse of Sir Zaipo, though the physical remains of Sir Coxen could not be retrieved.”

“The perpetrator?”

“……Based on the investigation of the marks left upon the fallen and the surrounding terrain, the culprit is believed to be a spellcaster rather than a Swordmaster.”

“A spellcaster.”

Pahren scrutinized the kneeling officer with a completely expressionless stare for a brief interval before continuing.

“Provide a more comprehensive description regarding the final sight you encountered.”

“Regarding that……”

The officer’s gaze flickered nervously.

He was obligated to convey the information, yet the details seemed farfetched even to his own mind.

That colossal gilded figure. Those piercing, frigid eyes. And the suffocating aura that blanketed the entire vicinity.

In addition to that……

• Depart from this place.

Regardless.

“I shall recount the events precisely as they unfolded before my eyes.”

Complying with the patriarch’s command, the military leader expounded upon the events with far greater specificity than his initial summary.

Inevitably, a few subjective observations found their way into the narrative, and upon its conclusion, Pahren, who had kept his peace, propped his elbow upon the chair’s support and placed a finger to his lips.

A heavy stillness filled the room once more.

The reporting officer found the oppressive atmosphere incredibly taxing to bear.

Mercifully, Pahren broke the tension shortly thereafter.

“Dismissed.”

“……As you command.”

The officer offered another bow and exited the chamber.

Creak, click.

Following the sealing of the entranceway.

Pahren’s expression shifted, becoming as frigid and sharp as a polished weapon.

He was now in a position to place a reasonable degree of confidence in the theory he had been secretly contemplating.

The peculiar beast possessing dragon-like traits. Regardless of its actual classification, it was unquestionably an entity that defied conventional logic.

Furthermore, there existed only a single spellcaster of such immense talent associated with Lortel.

‘……That abominable spellbook.’

Just as he suspected, the tower master held possession of it.

Thus, what course of action should be taken?

“Amusing themselves by conjuring a deceptive specter, are they.”

What strategy would prove most effective in flushing this apparition into the open?

This was the pressing issue that Pahren now pondered.