Chapter 265
“What nonsense! A trap?!”
Baekrang shouted, shaking Damian.
However, Damian’s face remained pale, perhaps due to the blood loss.
“Tsk!”
Baekrang bit his lip and quickly rummaged through his belongings.
It’s a shame, but…
He had been saving a top-grade potion for a long time. Surely, it would help Damian regain consciousness.
Baekrang retrieved a transparent vial containing crimson liquid and poured it into Damian’s mouth.
Gradually, color returned to his pallid face, and the wound in his abdomen began to heal.
The cost of this exceptional potion was steep, but it was worth it.
“Hey! Get up now and explain!”
Baekrang shook Damian, relieved that his condition had improved.
Suddenly, someone grabbed his shoulder.
Baekrang turned to see her unexpected savior. His eyes widened.
“…My lord?”
It was none other than Vivian Melkir.
Vivian Melkir shook her head gently. “No need to wake him. I think he knows why he called it a trap.”
“What? What do you mean…?”
Vivian Melkir examined the magic circle with a disappointed expression.
Although her expertise lay in shamanism, she had some knowledge of magic as well.
The catalysts of shamanism and the “joo” (呪) in magic, the “jin” (陣) and the “yeongchang” – they all dealt with the manipulation of symbols to produce specific effects. While their meanings differed, the underlying principles were similar.
Thus, if she could decipher the meaning behind the symbols in the circle, she could determine its purpose.
From the moment she arrived, her attention had been drawn to the inscriptions on the magic circle.
Now, imperfectly but sufficiently, she understood its nature.
“This is just a part of something bigger.”
“What do you mean?”
Argon’s urgent question hung in the air.
Just a part? Vivian Melkir rose weakly from her seat and surveyed her surroundings.
“While this magic circle is related to soul transference, it’s only a small component. In other words…”
Everyone leaned in, waiting for her explanation.
“It’s one of the hundreds of axes forming the Grand Magic Circle. Yes, that should be easier to understand.”
When they arrived, knights and soldiers had restricted the imperial citizens’ movements within the capital.
And the inexplicable unease they felt upon entering the capital – it was all connected.
Each element, from the houses to the citizens and the central palace, contributed to drawing a single massive circle.
They were all components of the same design.
The houses in the capital, the citizens, and even the central palace – all interconnected.
Vivian Melkir’s revelation left her companions stunned.
“Our assumption that the emperor’s war was a diversion was correct. Now, every living being within this capital is meant to be a sacrifice for the soul transference.”
And the reason they could execute this plan?
Their presence in the capital, especially the elite special forces, was crucial.
Each member was extraordinary, and among them, four stood at the pinnacle.
With this level of sacrifice, they could fulfill the energy requirements for the soul transference.
In other words, it was simple.
The founding ceremony had lured them here, and the special forces had unwittingly stepped into the trap.
Merriott’s eyes widened as he exclaimed, “We need to leave immediately!”
“It’s already too late.”
Vivian Melkir’s bittersweet smile accompanied her solemn words.
And then…
A deafening roar erupted.
The crimson radiance of the magic circle consumed them all.
* * *
At that moment…
Yan found themselves trapped in an unseen darkness.
‘…’
Just moments ago, the ambitious Emperor had greedily fixed his gaze upon Yan. But now, something black emerged from him, enveloping Yan completely.
From then on, this was their reality.
It felt as though they were abandoned in a void, alone with their thoughts.
No matter how loudly they screamed, there was no reply. Turning their head yielded nothing but an empty expanse.
For someone with claustrophobia, this environment would be enough to drive them mad.
And so, an eternity seemed to pass.
Then, a voice echoed.
“Still standing strong, I see. Truly the chosen one.”
It wasn’t the Emperor’s voice. Rather, it carried even more weight and dignity.
The voice seemed to fill the entire space, as if speakers were hidden everywhere.
“…Bahamut?”
Yan’s words were met with a solemn acknowledgment.
“Yes, it is I.”
And then…
A burst of unknown crimson light flickered before Yan.
Initially, it was just a glimmer, like a fingernail catching the light. But gradually, it took shape. Yan squinted, trying to discern the figure.
A massive frame, golden hair, the face of a middle-aged man—features that resembled the Death Knights from beyond.
However, there was a difference. While the Death Knights had vacant expressions, this figure exuded both indifference and charisma.
And most importantly…
It was the same face Yan had seen in imperial statues and portraits throughout the palace.
This was none other than the Emperor himself— Bahamut Caballan.
Yan swallowed hard as they took in the situation. They had a rough idea of what was happening.
And then it happened.
“Do not think of it as stealing your body. You will merge with me, becoming one. Achieving the unity of souls—the true transcendence of a Paragon. I will handle everything; you need only observe my actions. You won’t regret it.”
“Transcendence? Unity?”
“Among the Empire’s knight ranks, I speak of Grade 1.”
“To attain this state, you’re willing to take over my body… Is this what greatness looks like for the hero once hailed as you?”
Yan’s skepticism elicited a wry smile from Bahamut. His expression then turned serious.
“Though numerically divided from Grade 10 to Grade 1, the gap between Grade 1 and Grade 2 is immense. The Sogongjak? They’ve merely created vessels capable of transcending humanity, but they remain within human boundaries. However, Grade 1—no, those who truly transcend—step beyond mere humanity.”
“But they seem the same to me.”
“Foolish. They are nothing alike. What does Grade 2 represent?”
An unexpected question.
But Yan answered, hoping to uncover more and seize an opportunity.
“Manifestation of ideals…”
“Only half the answer,” Bahamut asserted.
Half? Yan frowned.
What did “manifestation” truly mean in this context?
Bahamut continued, “To manifest ideals into reality—that’s the essence of Grade 2. And from Grade 1 onward, one becomes a Paragon, a being that transcends humanity.”
“Grade 1?”
Yan’s mind raced.
If Grade 2 involves imprinting ideals into reality, what could Grade 1 signify?
Why would Bahamut go to such lengths, seeking this state?
Yan’s eyes widened.
“Could it be?”
Bahamut chuckled.
“Indeed, you’ve caught on. As expected of my chosen one. Yes, Grade 1 involves inscribing ‘nationhood’ across every corner of this world. Permanently.”
Abstract words, yet weighty.
At the second level, to Yan, who had grasped the meaning to some extent, it was far from abstract. No, it was vividly clear.
The second level inscribed symbols into reality. It was the domain, where spellcasters wielded power akin to that of gods within its boundaries.
Even tasks deemed impossible by the laws of physics were achievable here.
However, maintaining such a vast domain came at a great cost—a burden that weighed heavily on the spellcaster.
But what if…
What if one could encompass the entire world as their domain?
What if they could draw all existing mana into that domain?
Would there still be a price to pay?
A shiver ran down Yan’s spine.
No, there wouldn’t be a price. Boundless omnipotence could be sustained without any cost.
And then, the answer emerged.
“…A god.”
“Yes, that’s my ultimate goal.”
Bahamut extended his hand toward Yan.
“Let’s achieve that goal together. You need only relinquish control over your body. Once you do, you’ll merge with me, basking in all the glory. Promise me. I won’t shatter your mind. I’ll protect you, allowing you to witness everything. So…”
But at that very moment, Yan interrupted Bahamut.
“I have a question.”
“…?”
“Why do you want to become a god? And why sacrifice so many lives for it? Aren’t you already a hero?”
Bahamut fell silent, contemplating Yan’s question. Moments stretched into eternity.
Finally, Bahamut looked directly at Yan.
“I seek to become a god to protect humanity. Under my dominion, humans will thrive, civilizations will flourish. There will be no sorrow—only boundless happiness.”
His voice grew louder.
“That’s the world I desire. A place where no one suffers, where everyone is blissful. A world devoid of war, disease, violence, and tragedy.”
He gripped Yan’s shoulder.
“Join me! Together, let’s usher in an era where humanity truly finds meaning!”
Anyone listening to this tale would nod, even if they harbored doubts. The nobility and determination in Bahamut’s voice would sway them.
But…
Yan was different.
“Falsehood.”
“…What?”
Bahamut furrowed his brow, staring at Yan.
Pointing a finger at Bahamut’s face, Yan said, “You speak with such a greedy expression, yet you expect us to believe your words?”
Yan continued, “You don’t care about humans. The human world? You’ve never considered it. If you had, you wouldn’t have committed such atrocities. Sure, maybe in the past, you entertained such thoughts, but not now. Now, it’s just a pretext to hide your true intentions.”
Yan smirked.
“You’re no hero. You’re nothing more than a wretched specter.”
Bahamut’s face contorted grotesquely.
His overwhelming force began to consume the surrounding space, threatening to devour Yan.
Yet Yan remained unfazed, even chuckling.
“It’s about time.”
As Yan finished speaking…
“Caballaaaaan! Bahamuuuut!”
A familiar voice pierced the darkness.
It was Momon.