Chapter 923
“What’s going on?”
Chrony, watching the advance, noticed something off about the soldiers’ movements. When he asked, one of his subordinates raised a telescope to take a closer look—and soon furrowed his brow.
“…It looks like a protective barrier.”
“A barrier? From a mage?”
Chrony took the telescope and scanned the Astana camp. It was as if an invisible wall had been erected around a certain point, preventing any soldiers from breaking through. Swords slashed, spears stabbed, even stones were hurled—but all they did was stir the air; no damage reached the Astana side.
‘Who could be behind this?’
It probably wasn’t that crazy woman with the bun or Ian. How could someone from the Mage Department shield the enemy? It had to be that mercenary named Hale or something. Though unseen, it was certain.
“Check if there are any mages inside their camp.”
“Yes, Captain.”
With a whistle and a hand signal, the subordinate sent the message back. Moments later, a report came in.
“Captain, there’s no one there. No dragons either.”
“They left first. Quick on the uptake.”
This complicated things.
Chrony glanced at the other tribes retreating in the distance. They were leaving traces behind, making it easy for Bariel to follow.
‘As long as that barrier holds, engaging Astana is a waste of time.’
It was best to assign only minimal forces to hold the line against Astana and have the rest pursue the tribes.
“Leave one unit of the White Vanguard to guard against Astana. The rest, chase after the tribes. Move quickly.”
“Yes, sir!”
The blast of the horn signaled the change in orders, and the soldiers’ formations shifted instantly.
Chrony liked this—the way hundreds, even thousands, of people moved as one under a single command.
Watching it stirred a deep thrill within him. If gods existed, perhaps this was the joy they felt every day.
“And—”
Chrony flicked his finger, giving another order.
“Bring me ‘that arrow.’”
“Understood.”
Though he didn’t specify exactly, his subordinate immediately knew what he meant. Soon, a quiver was brought over, filled with arrows. Among them was one unique arrow, distinguished by its decoration—a magic-sealing stone embedded in its tip.
Chrony slung the quiver over his shoulder and hung his bow at his horse’s side.
“Let’s go.”
All the magic-sealing stones in Bariel were distributed proportionally—mostly to the emperor, then the palace guards and the Mage Department.
Though rare, the Imperial Defense Department had its share. And this was the only one given to Chrony.
‘Just one.’
The magic-sealing stone at the arrow’s tip—who would it pierce? Chrony ran through the possibilities in his mind: Aco or Ian. Which would be more advantageous to hit?
Thud thud thud!
The mobile unit, led by Chrony, surged forward, cutting through the wind. As he circled around Astana and closed in, the northern allied forces hesitated briefly, then resumed their retreat northward.
Then—
A high-pitched whine!
The horses stirred uneasily. They were galloping at full speed, the sound of hooves pounding the earth filling the air. Yet, even amid the rush, a faint tremor was felt.
“Captain! It’s an earthquake!”
An earthquake? Now, of all times?
Chrony smiled, amused, and cracked his whip harder.
“Ugh! Cough! What is this?!”
“Ahhh!”
The tribe members near Aco covered their eyes, writhing in pain.
Blue sparks of static electricity flickered faintly around them. Aco grinned and warned,
“Hold onto your eyeballs tight. Otherwise, they’ll pop out. Feels tingly, doesn’t it? Deliciously so.”
“Y-you’re insane!”
“Shut up! Who started this first? This is the upgraded lightning bomb—aka the ‘eyeball-tingling’ attack!”
Just as Aco had been immobilized, the tribe members curled up, shielding their eyes and writhing in agony.
Only then did Ian realize what that lightning bomb really was—the one Aco had used before. Good thing he hadn’t used it on people.
Kyu unleashed a massive pillar of flame into the sky, mimicking Ian’s technique of using light to erase shadows.
As the towering column of fire stretched toward the heavens, Kyu’s shadow vanished. At the same moment—
Sssshhh.
The shadows binding Aco’s hands and feet weakened.
Puzzled, she twisted her wrists. The Megetu tribe cursed at the shadows, pointing fingers.
“Cowardly scum!”
They had already feared Bariel, but after witnessing Aco and the dragon’s assault, their morale completely collapsed.
Ignoring the Megetu’s insults, the tribes melted into the shadows of the thicket, vanishing from sight. Aco dusted off her collar and laughed.
“Cowardly scum, huh? Smart enough to know when to run.”
“Grrr, I’ll say again—this isn’t Bariel’s territory, it’s ours. You can’t claim ownership of Idgal.”
“Who’s claiming that? What if the crack reopens while you’re messing around? Who’s going to clean up the mess then? We’ll be the ones grinding our bones and flesh again. Right?”
Could you handle it? Could you protect Gaia against the Great Flood or the descent of the Underworld God?
A crack this size was a disaster waiting to happen. Aco readied another attack.
“Anyone wanting to die, come on. I’ll make your eyeballs pop.”
Chak.
She slipped potions between her fingers.
The tribes hesitated, weighing their options. Then something caught their eyes—a platinum-haired child standing on Idgal Hill, looking down with a mix of fear and confusion.
“We only need to take a little—just a tiny bit—of Idgal.”
“Better to aim for that side.”
“Agreed.”
The Megetu and Engzargal tribes exchanged signals. The still-tingling tribe members crawled backward, groaning.
“Ian! Keep the barrier strong—”
Aco turned to warn Ian.
But Ian’s expression was grim. He seemed frozen, as if bound by the dark eyes swirling beneath his feet.
“Ian!”
What’s wrong with him?
Aco shouted, but Ian didn’t seem to hear. His face pale, he stared down into the crack.
There was an abyss there.
“Lord Hadel, are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine. If I die, Ian’s the only one left. What would happen to the Hadel name then?”
“…Mother, do you love Father?”
“Ian, why ask that?”
“I’m curious about what love is. Mother, do you love me?”
“That’s a difficult question.”
Fragments of memories long buried surfaced, stabbing at Ian’s heart.
Unconsciously, Ian knelt, peering deeper into the darkness. Faces he knew appeared, passing by.
“Ian Hadel. You’ve lost your power as a mage. Then you’re no longer needed. Leave the palace.”
“After all, wasn’t it your fault that my disciple Jeria died? Hadel, leave the Zach mansion.”
“Sorry, Ian. Grandpa told me not to play with you.”
“I wish you wouldn’t talk to me.”
“Are you really a noble? I heard you’re only half.”
“The Underworld God called that child his own, didn’t he?”
“Is he even a mage?”
Arena, Count Zach, Barsabe, Hans, Naum, even Romandro—all had turned their backs on him in that world.
Ian’s heart felt torn to shreds, and a tear slipped down his cheek.
“Ian, snap out of it! What’s wrong with you?”
Aco’s shout was the signal for the entire tribe to attack—mostly to break Ian’s barrier. Aco hastily drew a magic circle and countered.
Ziiing! Ziiing!
[Binding.]
Damn it! Fine, I admit it—I’m a lab rat, not a battle-hardened mage.
Still, Aco refused to give up. She had a gut feeling that if she failed, everything would be lost.
Shwaaah!
Soon, glass-like walls crashed down from above, subduing the attackers. Thick beads of sweat rolled down Aco’s jaw.
Unable to stand by, Kyu charged through the tribe, heavier than a carriage, sending enemies flying.
Kraaaang!
Chaos erupted everywhere. Explosions rang out, the ground shook. Aco ignored it all, continuing to cast spells and strike the tribes.
Then, somewhere, a sharp cracking sound echoed.
Aco’s mind flashed with a thought.
‘The cracks are controlled by sealing stones or Idgal—magic stones that neutralize magic. But if we keep casting spells nearby…’
She’d forgotten a simple fact: the cracks reacted to magic, growing larger with every surge.
In desperation, Aco pulled out all the remaining potions and shattered them.
“Ian, don’t use any magic except the barrier!”
I’m not sure if he fully heard those words. Ian, who had stared into the abyss, faltered and took a step back. At that very moment, the ground shook violently.
Rumble! Thud!
Thud-thud-thud-thud!
“E-Earthquake!”
The tremors were so strong that standing upright was nearly impossible.
Ako lost her balance and fell, and Ian slipped and tumbled down the slope beneath Idgal Hill. Kyu sprang up instantly, grabbing onto Ian’s clothes.
Whoosh!
“Good! But—”
Thud! Rumble!
The earthquake was so fierce that Ako’s shout was drowned out. Trees toppled, the earth twisted, and the once-solid Idgal cracked open with sharp, splintering sounds.
The tribes flattened themselves against the ground, watching the chaos unfold.
“A fissure…”
Kraaaash!
From the crack, a massive darkness burst forth like a fountain. Shattered fragments of Idgal scattered like stardust, and no one could quite grasp what was happening.
“It’s broken!”
In the next instant, they sensed the presence of a monster. The earthquake had shattered Idgal’s core.
The underground god’s power, likely triggered by the magic of Ako and Ian, had been activated. In any case, Idgal Hill was utterly devastated.
“Ian! Kyu!”
Ako took to the air, calling out to them. This was beyond what they could handle alone. They had to alert the center immediately and bring in the full force of the Magic Department.
“Get back—”
—Wait.
Ian, my long-time companion.
Ako sensed another presence approaching near the thicket. Soldiers from Bariel’s side. All mounted on horseback, they looked around bewildered, clearly unsure of what was going on.
—A toast to a new beginning.
Then Crony arrived cautiously, slipping a hand into his quiver. The fissure had been caused by the earthquake, but now that things had escalated, the Magic Department would intervene in full force. Which meant…
Crack!
His arrowhead was aimed steadily at the dragon and the hovering Ian. Perfectly timed. If Ian got hit by accident while they were trying to take down the monster, it would be an easy explanation. A faint smile played on Crony’s lips.
Whoosh!
But before the arrow could fly, a black hand shot out first.
It flew past Ian and struck from behind. Ian, expecting the hand to reach him, instinctively turned his head toward it. The underground god’s target was clear.
“…?!”
The moment the arrow left the bowstring, the black hand swallowed Crony whole. In one swift gulp, as if savoring a delicious meal.