Chapter 161: Receiving a Guest (2)
“What on earth are you talking about?”
Carisia’s tone was one of utter disbelief. She stared at Hector, her face the perfect mask of incredulity.
Hector noted the naturalness of her reaction. Not just anyone can fake a response like that… This one’s sharp.
Orthes’ apprentice had a peculiar mix of traits — suspicious in some ways, yet strangely naive in others. With that kind of acting, it wouldn’t have been hard for her to break through Orthes’ seemingly high but loosely constructed walls.
“Are you serious? A boss who doesn’t even know the true nature of their own subordinate… how disappointing.”
Carisia wasn’t just pretending to be incredulous — she genuinely was.
She and Orthes had spent all night talking about how to defeat the Mage King. They’d barely slept. Of all the possible misunderstandings, why this one?!
“The Mage King, huh? I’d think the direction is a bit different from magic, wouldn’t you agree?”
This was a subtle probe. She wanted to gauge how much this secretive old man, Hector, actually knew about Orthes. If he knew the truth about Orthes, he would inevitably bring up the Divine Cult.
‘If he really knew about the connection between Orthes and the ancient Divine Cult, he wouldn’t be making such a ridiculous mistake.’
“The Divine Cult, huh? That ancient, decrepit group? I see, so you’ve got your eye on them as well…”
To Carisia’s surprise, Hector mentioned the Divine Cult without hesitation.
He knows about the connection between Orthes and the Divine Cult, but he still thinks Orthes is a fragment of the Mage King?
But more importantly—
‘He knows about the Divine Cult?’
The Divine Cult wasn’t just one of those “typical cults” dismissed as superstition. It was a shadowy organization, known only to specialized groups like Blasphemia within the Ten Towers.
Recently, the Ten Towers had made public statements hinting at the existence of such a “group unlike any other superstition-following cult” in connection to Argyrion’s movements. This had spread awareness of them to some extent.
But the way Hector immediately identified the “different direction” as a reference to a cult—and not just any cult, but that cult—was telling. Only someone with specific knowledge could make that connection.
“I only know about them because of my line of work. No need to be so wary.”
“Line of work? Your roles as a fixer and a ‘tax evasion consultant’ don’t sound like jobs where you’d run into them.”
Hector nodded knowingly.
“Everyone has their secrets. What about you, Boss Carisia? What do you think Orthes really is?”
“No point hiding it anymore. I figured he was probably a Pope or maybe a demigod.”
“A god, huh…”
Hector stroked his beard. Carisia was suddenly struck by how much he resembled Orthes in that moment. Their auras were different, but there was something about their mannerisms that overlapped.
“Well. I’m sure you’ve seen Orthes in battle.”
“More times than I can count.”
“Then you must have seen him use that bizarre technique called Spell Overwriting, yes?”
“…Yes.”
Carisia had been with Orthes longer than anyone. She’d seen him fight more times than anyone. It wasn’t just a matter of experience. She and Orthes had survived countless battles together.
Orthes never went out of his way to explain his abilities to her, but he didn’t hide them either. If she asked, he’d answer with a nonchalant, “No, I don’t have a dark dragon hidden in my arm, but I do have the Eye of Truth,” followed by a calm explanation of his abilities.
“Can anyone else replicate that technique?”
“…That would be…”
Orthes frequently lamented that, since he couldn’t use magic himself, he couldn’t induce Magical Interference. But Carisia found Spell Overwriting far more bizarre.
It wasn’t unusual to connect the gaps between different spell formulas — anyone could do that.
But doing it haphazardly would only cause the spell to explode, killing the mage in the process.
Yet Orthes not only avoided the explosions but wielded the potential of combined formulas freely.
It was an art so close to impossibility that even Carisia, despite all her experience, wasn’t confident she could do it herself.
“Even if a swordsman like me, with all my years of experience, had the skill of a Tower Master, it’d still be impossible. Now tell me, what are the three fundamental elements of magic?”
“Magic Power, Will, and Formulas, right?”
“Will is expressed through formulas. In other words, each formula requires a compatible ‘will’ to bring it to life. Where on earth would you find a ‘will’ compatible with the grotesque magical formulas that Orthes produces with Spell Overwriting?”
“Hector, you seem to think of Orthes’ Overwriting as a form of magic.”
“Does he not use another’s magic power, impose his will on it, and express it through a formula?”
It was a new perspective. The idea of seizing another’s formula and magic power, and then controlling it with one’s own will, was undeniably magical in nature.
Carisia’s interest was piqued as a mage. But she focused on the conversation.
“Orthes reverse-engineers the form of ‘will’ necessary to shape the formula, then uses that will to produce the result he wants. I’d call that magic.”
Who else but the Mage King could steal the magic of others, manipulate it with his will, and reshape the world?
That was the underlying message of Hector’s words.
Carisia shook her head.
“I don’t think the will involved in the process is Orthes’ own. It’s more like he distorts the formula to force the desired result, reflecting the ‘impression’ originally envisioned by the mage casting the spell.”
“Oh? Then how do you explain the magic power involved?”
“Magic power? He doesn’t have any. If anything, that proves Orthes isn’t connected to the Mage King.”
Hector shook his head.
He pointed out a simple truth known even to children: Mana exists everywhere.
“Any living being with will absorbs mana just by breathing, or even just by existing. It’s unavoidable, no matter how small the amount.”
But Orthes was the only exception.
“Think about it. The Mage King inscribed a principle into this world, and yet there’s someone who can so naturally reject that law. It’s like being able to command mana itself, ‘Do not come near me.’”
Carisia recalled the legends of the Mage King. He didn’t need to process mana into magic power — he could wield the world’s mana as his own.
Orthes’ inability to store magic power could be seen as a counterpart to that.
It was natural for mages to control their own magic power. But if Orthes was truly a fragment of the Mage King, it was plausible that he could treat the world’s mana as his own.
At that moment, a question flashed in Carisia’s mind.
“…But isn’t that incredibly inefficient?”
“Ah. That, my dear, is where the Divine Cult comes into play.”
Hector’s gaze shifted. His eyes, once filled with playful energy, now carried the weight of shadowy knowledge.
“I’m sure you know the Divine Cult was deeply involved in the creation of Orthes’ body.”
“I learned that while working with him. But how did you know?”
Hector raised a hand to his face, as if shading his eyes from a blinding light.
It could have been the reflex of an old man trying to block the sun.
Or it could have been the gesture of a sinner seeking to avoid the weight of his own sins.
“Because I’m the one who discovered him. Or perhaps ‘excavated’ would be a more fitting term.”
***
He avoided giving the full context, glossing over the details. He claimed to have detected a massive pulse emanating from an ancient ruin in an extra-dimensional incursion zone.
When he approached, Orthes was there.
“It wasn’t hard to tell it was a ruin of the ancient cults. There were numerous records written in Old Tongue, marked with the word Theos — ‘god.’”
“‘God,’ huh…”
Carisia recalled her earlier discussion with Hector, where she’d speculated that Orthes might be a demigod.
“Based on everything I saw, I concluded that it was the final sanctuary of the Divine Cult and the research lab for their ultimate secret weapon.”
“…The Divine Cult’s ultimate weapon…”
Hector nodded.
“Don’t you think it resembles the myth of Typhoeus?”
Carisia couldn’t deny it.