TL/Editor: raei
Status: 5/week mon-fri
Illustrations: none
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The enemies were crumbling.
Watching the backs of terrified enemies fleeing is one of the few dopamine-inducing monts in dieval tis.
"Waaaa-!"
Excited soldiers shouted battle cries.
The black wizards, who couldn't even maintain proper formations, abandoned even their minions as they fled.
The rcenaries they'd brought with their filthy gold did the sa.
The mont the black dragon Predius fell,
the black wizards' morale completely broke.
There were many who could still fight, but none who wanted to anymore.
"Retreat!"
A black wizard with so rank shouted.
"Retreat and hide! As ti passes, our day will co-!"
This was common sense among black wizards.
They were wizards who avoided the light, hiding in the shadows.
They were people who practiced magic through cruel and horrific thods, seeking power they hadn't previously possessed.
Cowering in the shadows was sothing they were confident about.
Even those belonging to the [Golden Rule Society] weren't much different.
After all, the society mostly operated as a cell organization.
'...No, you fools.'
But this was clearly short-sighted thinking.
The black wizards thought that if they escaped now, another opportunity would co.
That's how it had always been before...
However.
Despite nurous failures, the main reason the [Golden Rule Society] hadn't collapsed until now was the existence of [Regent] Antios.
All those processes of organizing, generating revenue, and creating monsters—
Antios and a few executives had handled them all.
Without exaggeration, the entire [Golden Rule Society] could be considered Antios's underlings.
'There is no tomorrow for you...!'
Antios knew.
If he fell, the organization itself would collapse.
It was an organization cobbled together from assorted wizards.
They had served their purpose in securing funds and producing minions...
But rebuilding the organization without Antios was nonsensical.
Antios considered:
Could he possibly escape alive from this battle?
Probably... impossible.
The mont Predius died, the society's strength was effectively halved.
Even if they escaped now, they would only be hunted down by the Pope's minions.
The noble mission of creating the [Golden Age of Magic] would fail...!
"Regent!"
Through the chaos, a man appeared.
Celestial Wizard Bertholdt.
Though Ian mocked him as a 'necromancy one-trick pony,' he was still treated as the second-in-command in the society.
"Tzitzimitl has fainted!"
"It's not fainting, it's being reverse-summoned."
"Isn't that even worse?!"
Dragon and demon.
Antios's ambitious one-two punch.
With the dragon dead, if they lost the demon too, the society would literally 'collapse.'
"Damn it! Regent! Take cover!"
"...You want to run away?"
"Larabel will be here soon!"
Space-ti wizard Larabel.
A space-ti wizard who held a grudge after being defeated by 'Gerard' and joined the society... or so they believed.
Until now, Larabel had helped the society greatly.
Whether teleporting Antios during the attack on Araz,
Or lending spatial movent magic freely when Bertholdt and other executives needed to move.
...Thanks to this, Bertholdt seed to think Larabel was a society mber.
But Antios couldn't shake his doubts.
Would Larabel really appear in this situation?
Was she 'truly' on the society's side?
Was she 'truly' hostile to the space-ti wizard Gerard...?
'Stop thinking, Antios.'
Antios warned himself.
When dealing with space-ti wizards, extended thought is dangerous.
One must move with conviction, ready to control the flow of the world itself.
No matter how powerful a space-ti wizard is, they cannot stop the great flow itself.
Antios sensed it.
A massive branching point lay before him.
Whoever won this battle...
Would grasp the true [future].
"I... will not run away."
"Regent?!"
Bertholdt shouted in surprise.
It sounded like soone who had given up everything?!
But that was Bertholdt's misunderstanding.
Antios hadn't given up.
Quite the opposite.
He had steeled his resolve.
"Space-ti wizards bend the stream of [ti] to manipulate the flow of [future]."
"...?"
"They can divert small brooks, but cannot control great rivers."
"Regent...?"
Antios looked at Bertholdt.
In that mont.
Bertholdt felt a fear as if his entire body was freezing.
He was a necromancer who dealt with death power.
Very intensely.
When fated death approached, he could hear voices like future predictions.
[Now it's your turn... Bertholdt...]
"N-no...!"
Bertholdt fell to his knees.
He had dedicated much to the society.
He had manufactured countless undead and reinforced the black wizard army.
Despite so failures... he was still a wizard recognized by everyone!
"Regent! I'll clear a path, so escape right away..."
"Bertholdt."
A cold touch caressed Bertholdt's neck.
He knew who owned that touch.
'Demon, Tzitzimitl...!'
Having lost its body, Tzitzimitl should return to hell.
But Antios forcibly held onto the departing Tzitzimitl.
It was the achievent of a great summoner.
"You must do it."
"Regent...! Regent!"
"With your hands, you must usher in the golden age of magic."
The demon extended its hand.
As if passing through a narrow cave, the demon slit Bertholdt's throat and slowly began to crawl inside through the gap.
No blood sprayed.
What the demon was tearing was... Bertholdt's soul.
"No... please...! Regent...! I! I still have use...!"
"If we lose here, it's all aningless."
"..."
"If you still had the [Human King] with you, perhaps. But you failed your mission and even lost your undead monster."
"Ah... aaaagh!"
"I'll rember your na, Bertholdt. You are the first cornerstone of the [Golden Rule Society]."
"Antiooooos-!"
Bertholdt scread from his soul.
But it was an empty echo.
The demon, indifferent to human suffering, calmly stole the body.
Bertholdt's soul perished.
Instead, the demon's soul took its place in the body.
...Tzitzimitl was reborn.
"Victory or death."
Antios stretched out his hand.
As if trying to grasp wizard Ian.
Or perhaps the space-ti wizards beyond him.
"I will fight until my soul shatters."
Antios clenched his fist.
***
Ian judged that the battle was over.
The dragon had been killed by Belenka stabbing its eye.
The demon called Tzitzimitl or whatever had been taken down after one hit from Ian and another from the wizard Avengers(?).
The remaining black wizards were just cannon fodder.
Sir Reshach could handle them.
Ian smirked as he watched the motionless Antios.
That guy Antios. Calling himself Regent.
With all his summons and subordinates lost, it was now just a laughable nickna.
"...?"
But sothing was strange.
The mystery of death was thrashing violently.
Even considering this was a battlefield, the movent was abnormal.
Could it be... that Bertholdt guy?
Bertholdt knew how to fire a death-beam using the mystery of death.
The only problem was that it required an enormous amount of death power.
If he prepared the spell in advance, or in places like this where people were dying in droves, he could probably fire one death-beam.
"Ian!"
A welco voice was heard.
The voice of wizard Herta.
He would have liked to exchange greetings, but the battle wasn't over yet.
"I hear an angry voice! Ian must know what it is!"
"It's the mystery of death!"
For it to be audible even to non-necromancers, it was an enormous death power.
That Bertholdt bastard. What kind of magic is he preparing to cause such—
That's when it happened.
[Kyaaaaaaaa-!]
Ian was startled.
Bertholdt was howling like a beast!
What? Had he given up being human?!
But Ian quickly realized.
"Oh... shit!"
Bertholdt wasn't crazy.
He had transford into a [different being]...!
Into the demon Tzitzimitl!
"Herta! That's a demon!"
"What...?"
"The demon has resurrected!"
The wizards quickly exchanged opinions.
"That demon seems to be summoned without a body."
"It might be physically weaker, but still a demon with powerful abilities."
"Possession summoning, is it."
Earth wizard Carl muttered.
"If it devoured a necromancer's body... this is troubleso."
It wasn't just troubleso.
Regent Antios.
That crazy summoner hadn't lost control over his summon, even with the situation this dire.
Unless Antios was neutralized, the demon wouldn't disappear.
He could just [possess] the demon into another suitable body!
As long as the possessor lived, it ant infinite resurrections!
"Don't run away! If you run, you'll die like dogs!"
"Y-yes, Regent!"
"Gather around Tzitzimitl! Protecting the demon is your only chance to survive-!"
Antios was clearly cornered.
But the desperate struggle of a cornered person was powerful.
[Co to hell with ! Help destroy the prison of gods! Free my brothers!]
"U-uaaagh!"
"Heavens! Protect us!"
The demon Tzitzimitl wielded trendous death powers.
Though it couldn't speak a word of Maronius language, the demon handled death power more skillfully than any necromancer.
Wizards called such beings [those born with magic].
[Brothers! Rise and assist !]
As Tzitzimitl gestured, corpses rose in droves.
Wizard Anton shouted impatiently:
"How can a demon bastard use necromancy...!"
Soon Sir Reshach bellowed:
"[Dead ones, return to heaven's embrace!]"
Holy magic.
The corpses who heard Sir Reshach's command rembered their proper place(?) and lay back down.
Oh! I was a corpse! Like that.
Restoring the natural order was also one of holy magic's powers.
"Saint Marcus says...!"
"No, cleric! Your sermon isn't working at all!"
"You think preaching is easy?! Have you ever recited a single line from the gospel?!"
Takarion recited holy language... but it was useless (probably because he mixed in too many 'fan-made settings' he created himself).
Sir Reshach's holy magic alone had its limits.
Finally, the soldiers picked up their weapons again.
Ti to start exorcism (physical)...!
[Join !]
"Aaaaagh!"
Whenever Tzitzimitl wielded the death whip, humans died in heaps.
No joke, it was worse than a dragon's breath.
The demon's power was truly fantasy incarnate.
A monster that could sweep away dozens of people alone!
"S-save ...! Ack!"
"..."
A soldier breathed his last right before Ian's eyes.
There was no ti to hesitate.
He needed a definite spell to subdue that demon!
Ian decided on the magic to use.
...Yes. Let's use necromancy.
Just as fire magic could disperse a dragon's breath—
He would neutralize the demon's whip with necromancy.
"[Death-]"
Just as Ian was about to use necromancy magic.
"Ian!"
Maria ca running, panting.
She hadn't even wiped the sweat flowing from her forehead.
"I'll... fight with you!"
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