Episode 704
Chapter 179: An Inescapable Trap (3)
Suddenly, Veradin waved his hand, and a green spear materialized in midair.
The green spear bore an uncanny resemblance to record magic.
It radiated the same lingering energy that Zipple called the “Holy Land”—the residual power of the Sun God’s domain. Jin immediately recognized it as the price Veradin had paid to save Valeria from that sacred place.
“…Record magic?”
“You’ve probably seen the original many times. If you’re so easily impressed by my imitation, I’d be embarrassed.”
Yet, it wasn’t Jin who looked most surprised. The elders who had followed him into the office were visibly shaken.
“L-Lord Soga! You’ve finally obtained that magic!?”
“Why didn’t you tell us about this great fortune?”
Their eyes gleamed with greed, as if the tragedies the Federation was enduring meant nothing to them.
Veradin kept smiling, but Jin sensed the darkness behind that grin and instinctively knew what was coming next.
It was a purge.
“Why wouldn’t I tell you, elders? Because old, useless men like you don’t need to know.”
“What do you mean—ugh!”
“Lord Soga—ugh, ugh—”
Before they could respond, the elders suddenly clutched their throats, twisting their bodies in agony.
They couldn’t breathe. Strange symbols were inscribed along Veradin’s green spear.
“Consider this a parting gift for your past efforts. See? It didn’t take long, just as I said.”
Ronil stood calmly, as if he had expected this. Veradin looked down at the elders foaming at the mouth and collapsing.
One elder, bloodshot eyes blazing, struggled to resist Veradin’s magic. He barely managed to stand and reached out toward Veradin.
From his hand, a distorted fireball erupted, but Veradin stepped forward and easily sliced it apart.
As the flames scattered, blood tears streamed from the elder’s eyes.
“Ah, I should have spared you…”
Those were the last words the only elder who had briefly resisted the magic ever heard.
As he fell forward, no elders remained alive in the office.
Jin felt a chill run through his entire body—not because of the godlike magic Veradin wielded or his flawless swordsmanship, but because he realized once again that his friend had changed.
His friend, his brother—they had all become monsters.
“I originally planned to deal with this after you left, but this works just as well. Anyway, where were we? Ah, yes—we were confirming the scale of despair. Take a look at this.”
Veradin’s green spear expanded, filling the entire office.
Within it was a map of the world, covered in writhing black blotches scattered across every region.
Hupester was especially dark, almost impossible to find any clear spots, while the rest of the continents were stained with blotches of varying intensity.
“These black areas on the map represent despair being harvested by the Malignant God. Right now, it’s about fifty percent complete.”
“What’s the basis for that estimate?”
“The rate at which the ship ‘Ram’ is forming. Every time the black spots grow, the Ram changes. Orgal came before you and placed the completion of the Ram and the Malignant God on the same timeline.”
Veradin pointed to the blotches over Drakka, the autonomous districts, and the Milkun Kingdom.
“These spots formed simultaneously with the Federation’s attack by Dipus Runkandel, when the Milkun Kingdom’s civilians were massacred and hostages taken. The spots continue to darken and expand. It’s because the civilians’ belief that places like Drakka—our home—were safe has been shattered.”
True enough, the blotch there was slowly but relentlessly growing.
Though small compared to the whole of Hupester, it was still large compared to other areas.
Jin’s gaze lingered on a blotch over the Tikan Kingdom.
It was tiny, barely a speck, but unusually dark and noticeable.
“Mary… or perhaps the despair held by Yuria.”
Those two immediately came to mind.
“I’ve heard about the relationship between the Four Horsemen and the Seven Horsemen. And Az Mil’s contractor must be suffering from visions of a terrible future.”
Veradin spoke, aware of Jin’s gaze. Jin said nothing and turned to examine another blotch.
One blotch in Hupester was particularly active.
Ricalton.
The land where the prophet once gathered human sacrifices.
Jin had asked the Black Knight Dox to investigate there long ago. Dox had been out of contact ever since.
“Since you’re watching Ricalton closely, I take it you’ve noticed. We’re certain the Four Horsemen are transporting all the hostages there. It’s the place where despair is growing most rapidly since the Federation was attacked.”
That made their mission clear.
Strike Ricalton and rescue the hostages.
A small-scale operation like before wouldn’t suffice. Though not all of the thousands of hostages could still be alive, even saving a thousand would require a fleet.
“Doesn’t it feel absurd that humans are fighting gods? Without despair, the world’s greatest forces wouldn’t risk themselves just to save civilians.”
“What do you mean?”
“If the enemy were human, it would be horribly inefficient. What if you, immune to chaos, were injured trying to save civilians? Or if other elite forces suffered irreparable losses? That can’t happen.”
Jin felt as if he were hearing Rosa from Veradin’s human days.
In Veradin’s world now, ordinary people were nothing but meaningless.
“Enough pointless talk. It’s not a comforting story anyway. Since Orgal has already been here, he must know the situation. What we need to decide is the date of the Ricalton strike and the number of troops to deploy.”
“Right. We should move as soon as possible. The Four Horsemen and chaos forces must have some mobility limits, but we can’t estimate them yet. Is Hister the same?”
With Valeria’s current record magic, Jin couldn’t have created a map like the one Veradin had formed.
Jin nodded, and Veradin shrugged.
“Too bad… you still can’t handle the original that well. If you’re going to use it like this, you might as well hand it over to us.”
“More nonsense. I agree we need to start the operation quickly—before the Four Horsemen strike again somewhere else…”
Just as Jin spoke, a new blotch suddenly appeared on the map.
Veradin flinched and studied the map. The new spot of despair had formed in the Empire.
Specifically, in the capital—the land Dante himself was guarding.
Given the timing, Dante wasn’t alone in the capital. Siris, Kashimir, and their comrades were likely there as well.
“…They’re moving as soon as you mention it. It might not be the Four Horsemen, but—”
“I have to go immediately. We’ll talk about the rest when I return.”
Jin turned to leave, and Veradin followed.
“Let me come with you.”
Jin looked at him for a moment, then nodded.
Empire Capital.
“The pursuit squad is hereby disbanded. Focus on protecting the citizens. This is Lord Gaju’s order!”
“Yes, sir!”
At the commander’s shout, the knights halted and reformed their lines. Around them lay chaos energy and corpses—mostly civilians, though some knights were mixed in.
The knights scattered to tend to the fallen citizens. Every collapsed building trapped civilians beneath the rubble.
About thirty minutes ago, a black dimensional gate had suddenly opened in the heart of the capital. From it poured chaos dragons and black ships, turning the area into hell in an instant. Dante had responded almost immediately.
Fortunately, Kashimir and Siris had just arrived. Without their help, the damage would have been far worse, no matter how fast the response.
It took Dante only fifteen minutes to eliminate over eighty percent of the chaos dragons and black ships. Still, thousands had died in that brief time—an unavoidable tragedy.
Now, Dante had ordered the pursuit squad and defense forces to rescue civilians, while the Dragon Knights and family knights hunted down the remaining enemies.
He was chasing the fleeing enemy commander.
“I will find you and tear you apart…!”
Dante’s furious eyes scanned ahead relentlessly. The enemy had already slipped beyond the city outskirts, desperately trying to open dimensional gates to escape, but Dante kept catching him.
Since Mote was exhausted and could no longer teleport, losing sight of the enemy even once would mean the end.
But Dante wasn’t the type to lose his prey out of impatience—especially not in the heart of the land he protected.
Swoosh!
Rashid emitted a brilliant light, and a section of the outer forest was sliced away like puzzle pieces.
Dante sent sword energy in all directions from the cleared area, blocking the commander’s path.
The enemy tried to force his way through Dante’s sword energy but stumbled forward, and Dante seized the moment.
“You bastard!”
He struck the helmet with the hilt, revealing the face beneath.
It was none other than Joshua Runkandel.
“Joshua Runkandel… so it was you!”
Joshua looked even more withdrawn than the last time Veil had gotten the better of him. His eyes trembled with uncertainty, and cold sweat poured endlessly down his pale face.
“Go and strike the Empire. It was originally the Fourth Division’s mission, but I didn’t inform them for your sake. If you succeed in the attack instead of the Fourth Division and return without Nana or the family’s help, I’m sure you’ll be given another chance.”
Before attacking the Empire, Joshua had heard those words from Ilina.
But now, captured and unable to return without assistance, the mission had fallen far short of what the Prophet had hoped for.
Once again, Joshua had failed.
What made his despair even deeper was the sight beyond Dante’s face—far off in the sky, another dimensional gate was opening, completely unrelated to him.
Through it, he could see the army of Dipus emerging.
And so, Joshua’s despair only grew larger, this time for Rosa’s sake.