Chapter 315

Chapter 315

Scattered winds, dancing snowflakes, and Decullan.

Aster stood directly in the center of a savage winter.

The fierce animosity of his former life, the lingering, unresolved bitterness, had dragged everything into his current existence.

Therefore, no regrets remained.

He merely seared the image indelibly into his mind.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Pahren von Decullan. I am the uncle of the fool you hold captive, and the head of the Decullan family.”

The plain was littered with the corpses of Decullan mages, yet the solitary mage offered a dignified greeting; it aligned flawlessly with his memory.

His attire, his gaze, even his composed demeanor.

Setting aside his slightly more youthful appearance resulting from his journey through time, the fundamental nature of the entity known as ‘Pahren’ was completely unchanged.

Exactly as he had in his past life, Pahren spoke serenely.

“I have yet to receive your reply. Are you the Lord of the Tower?”

This time as well, Aster held his tongue.

It was at that moment that Pahren shifted his gaze.

“Holland.”

“……Yes, Patriarch.”

Holland lowered his head, begging for clemency.

Originally, the directives Pahren had given him were not supposed to cause such an uproar.

Apprehend him if possible, but if not, prevent pointless casualties and arrange a gathering.

Nonetheless, blinded by his own rivalrous nature, he had defied those commands; a dozen mouths would not suffice to vindicate his actions.

“Withdraw.”

“But……”

“There are numerous attendants present. Go reflect and gather your thoughts.”

“Understood……”

Holland’s lips twitched as though he wished to speak further, but in the end, he obeyed the Patriarch’s mandate and strode toward the far edge of the plain.

Even for someone of Holland’s caliber, traversing the snow-covered expanse in his current condition would be no simple task, yet he pressed forward in silence.

By the time Holland dissolved into the swirling snowflakes, Pahren spoke once more.

“I still have not received your reply. Are you the Lord of the Tower?”

Aster, who had been tracking Holland’s departing form, shifted his gaze to look directly at Pahren.

What reason was there to hide it now?

“That is correct. And who are you?”

It was a query posed despite knowing the answer perfectly well.

Aster was already well-acquainted with Pahren’s visage.

Even if he weren’t, Holland’s demeanor and their dialogue made it impossible to remain ignorant.

Nevertheless, Pahren replied placidly, without a hint of irritation.

“Pahren von Decullan. The master of Decullan, as you are aware. Setting that aside…”

Pahren’s focus shifted toward the azure flames hovering in midair.

The eerie fire that washed the entire surroundings in a blue hue.

A spark flared in Pahren’s eyes as he observed them, and he soon spoke.

“Why not dispel the magic? There are matters we ought to discuss between us.”

Instead of answering, Aster kept his eyes locked on Pahren.

As if reacting to his intent, the azure flames surged violently.

As anticipated… not just yet.

Aster perceived the monumental obstacle. Yet that sensation endured for only a fleeting moment.

The flames vanished.

Aster dropped down to sit on the ground right where he stood and spoke.

“Take a seat.”

He possessed a commanding aura, as though the entire land belonged to him, yet Pahren merely looked at Aster and seated himself in the exact same manner.

……And so, upon the snow-shrouded plain.

The two individuals sat directly opposite one another.

Pahren initiated the conversation.

“Has the refinement of the Art of the Celestial Origin been achieved?”

It was an abrupt inquiry, but Aster maintained his poise.

Decullan was already aware that the Tower was conducting research into the Art of the Celestial Origin.

And the inquiry regarding whether the refinement was complete was likely prompted by those azure flames he had ignited at the very end.

They contained not only the mental concept of the New Art of the Celestial Origin, but also components of the secrets regarding the Azure Flame.

It would be far stranger if he remained oblivious.

For that exact reason, Aster gave a calm nod.

“Just as you witnessed.”

“I see.”

Pahren displayed no astonishment whatsoever, behaving as though he had foreseen it. Aster scrutinized him and posed a question of his own.

“And what of the second black-and-white slums?”

“There is no cause for anxiety. I anticipated that the rumors might be embellished, but if anything, they seemed to fall short of reality.”

He was uncertain which rumors were being referenced, but it was evident that Pahren had verified the presence of the Second Black-White Slum with his own eyes and altered his trajectory accordingly.

Is he merely blustering?

If such words came from an ordinary individual, they could be dismissed as empty bravado… but coming from Pahren, even Aster could not easily gauge his true depth.

Regardless, that was not the crucial matter.

“Very well, what is it you wish to discuss?”

To the straightforward inquiry, Pahren countered placidly.

“I have journeyed here to obtain the refined Art of the Celestial Origin. Can you surrender it to me?”

“And if I comply, does everything conclude there?”

“I would prefer to hear your response first.”

Aster’s eyes narrowed slightly.

He was incapable of fathoming the man’s motives.

Surely he could seize the New Art of Origin by sheer strength if he so desired, so why commence with dialogue?

“There is no need to overanalyze it. View it as a form of token.”

“A token?”

In response to Aster’s query, Pahren nodded while sweeping his hand once. A gentle wind sliced through the atmosphere.

With a solitary motion, the dark clouds parted and the snowfall came to a halt.

The snow continued to pour down heavily across the rest of the plain, but the zone surrounding Aster and Pahren felt as balmy as the approaching spring.

Within that cleared territory, Pahren nodded.

When he parted his lips, a name emerged, recognizable yet strangely distant.

“Did you not likewise bestow tokens upon us, Coxen and Zaifo?”

Coxen and Zaifo… the two Seven Mages whose lives he spared when rescuing the mercenary commander of Kalia.

And those were considered tokens?

“They were nearing their retirement. I pondered how to utilize them in their final days, and you provided the flawless application. The elders served as superb nourishment for the youth.”

What did that imply?

It implied that their passings had galvanized the young mages of Decullan.

“I suspect you also instigated the conflict with Lortel. Am I mistaken? For that, I am also appreciative. It permitted us to excise the corrupted elements of Decullan.”

It was an assertion that no one who viewed human beings as actual people could ever utter.

Transforming a war that claimed countless lives into a mere purge, and labeling the deaths of lifelong, devoted retainers as “nourishment”?

“Aebiron… I ought to express my gratitude for him as well. Owing to you, he attained profound enlightenment. He has become far more valuable. It will be well worth awaiting his emergence from seclusion.”

Pahren carried on explaining serenely how Aster’s deeds had played to Decullan’s advantage.

It was a viewpoint entirely incomprehensible to ordinary human logic, for instance.

……The demise of Karahen.

He conveyed his appreciation for it, viewing it as the spark that psychologically awakened Holland.

……The Bimar family, wiped out during the Trial Tower affair.

It offered a rationale for neutralizing prospective future perils, and even… on extremely rare occasions… a smile touched his features.

“It is no simple feat to sever connections with vassal households that have been loyal for generations. Convention and devotion… minor incentives breed complacency. We required a fresh current precisely at that juncture.”

He subsequently detailed how the destruction of the Troubleshooter training grounds had served Decullan’s interests.

Pahren articulated his thankfulness for the remaining actions Aster had carried out, whether directly or indirectly, and how he had capitalized on them.

And ultimately…

“I must also extend my gratitude for this. Thanks to you, Holland has grown more capable.”

After introducing Holland, Pahren brought his monologue to a close.

Aster stared at Pahren, who recounted the sequence of occurrences without shifting his facial expression, and fell into deep contemplation for a brief period.

Initially, Aster had hypothesized.

If anything, Pahren shared a common streak with Patriarch Muhard of Lortel.

No, more accurately, like a blend of Patriarch Muhard of Lortel and Patriarch Leodis of Banderaga.

Yet now, confronting reality, both notions proved to be flawed.

To begin with.

The entity before him… was not human.

Human authority was merely a facade he donned when it suited him, and though he possessed sentiments, they resembled those of a beast.

Which was why… he spoke with such twisted satisfaction.

“In that regard, this is a genuine opportunity I am offering.”

What alternative do you truly possess? Can you hand over the refined Art of the Celestial Origin? Perform that deed, and not only will I grant you clemency here, but I will also provide the Magic Tower with a magnificent recompense.

Aster remained mute in the face of the inquiry.

The New Celestial Origin Art.

Surrendering it was not a taxing demand.

Why?

Because a secret technique was precisely that: a secret technique.

Merely a sheet of parchment containing invaluable data.

If a simple sheet of parchment could rescue Blandoga from devastation and preserve the Second Black and White Slums from the inferno… yes, he could surrender it without hesitation.

Thus, it was not difficult. It was not difficult in the slightest… and yet.

Why?

Aster could not easily utter, “Very well.”

A sensation of impending peril refused to exit his consciousness.

Even if he surrendered it here, what then? After a span of seven years, would he truly possess the capability to halt Pahren?

“As anticipated…”

……It will not suffice.

At that instant, Aster reconfirmed his resolve and made an effort to stand up.

Crack, cra-ck!

Abruptly, his field of vision shattered. Like an image reflected in a fractured mirror, the terrain splintered into fragments and drifted away.

‘……This.’

He cast a calculating look at Pahren, but Aster quickly recognized that this occurrence was not of the Patriarch’s making.

There was no recognized magic capable of directly manipulating space in this fashion. Consequently, what was this spatial fracture?

A boundary.

By the time Aster deduced that.

Clang-!

The fragmented realm dissolved completely, exposing the undisturbed reality underneath. And Aster witnessed it.

Positioned between himself and Pahren was a collective group.

They numbered roughly twenty individuals, their visages concealed by masks and impossible to identify, yet the individual positioned at the forefront was intimately familiar.

Muspellun of Gigas Adrian.

The trespassing Muspellun locked eyes with the Patriarch of Decullan and questioned him, flashing his customary gentle grin.

“Patriarca, did this old fellow not state it to you unambiguously? That you ought to retreat stealthily like a rodent. And yet, here you stand, so swiftly.”

A grin that was devoid of true warmth. His predatory aura was so overwhelming that even Aster found himself struggling for breath.

That was not all.

Rustle, rustle…

The mages of Sakwol organized their ranks around the Patriarch of Decullan.

The weight exerted by this group was fundamentally distinct from that of an Archmage.

……The Archmage and the Moon Devoured by the Bear.

As the legendary champions of prehistoric conflicts leveled their auras against the Patriarch of Decullan, he too rose from his position.

The firmament obscured by the moon.

The terrain blanketed in darkness.

It marked the precise instant where the absolute past and the absolute future crashed into one another.