479 - Regressor of the Fallen Family
Chapter 479 What does it feel like for a god to descend into the body of an apostle? This question arose from a curiosity about the foolishness displayed by the apostles. Upon asking, Ilya and Harman promptly provided an explanation. "It feels like forcibly synchronizing your consciousness into a tiny, ant-sized doll. Both senses and power are limited by that scale." "Engaging in trivialities with ants might be amusing, but generally, wouldn’t one want to escape as soon as possible?" "It’s much like humans." Even gods have their judgment clouded when in a hurry, a fact evidenced by the apostles standing before us. "Let's just handle it." "It was something that needed to be dealt with anyway. Eliminate it!" "Vanish, remnants of Gibrik!" Despite realizing they had been tricked, their reactions were precisely as expected. "They never even considered deceiving Your Majesty in the first place, which is why they’re so reckless." "Simply, 'It's good if followed, if not, then whatever.' That’s likely their mindset." "For them, it’s merely a change in the process of something they should or can do." "The outcome is predetermined, so they don't get hung up on the process..." They must have this certainty that everything will turn out as they desire, which made such actions possible. The unexpected part was the sudden grandstanding of Cassel, the Tower Lord. The transformation into a colossal demon was astonishing, but even more so was that he managed to single-handedly face all the apostles, despite being decidedly less formidable than each one individually. "That magic circle…" The magic circle on the vast square floor emitted immense energy, seemingly the source of his power. "Traitors, you shall never stop the descent of the One!" With a desperate roar from the demon, the dark crimson flames gained more momentum. The misfit crown and silvery bracelet momentarily flashed with energy, causing the apostles to be repelled collectively. Though it was a potent spell, it was not enough to simultaneously defeat six 8th-class apostles, yet it did. "This is strange." As the process repeated several times, Logan naturally began to understand the reason. "The apostles are holding back... It's absurd." The more we uncover about the gods, the more disillusioned we become. The apostles appeared to press the Tower Lord aggressively, but whenever his attacks seemed even slightly focused, they hesitated not an instant before retreating to conserve energy. All six apostles, without exception. This hesitancy enabled the Tower Lord to maintain a competitive standoff, even with his limited strength. Of course, this uncomfortable standoff couldn’t last long. "Pathetic. Even now, the divine is being drained." "If you take the brunt first, it might resolve quickly, Aion." "Stop spouting nonsense, let's do it together. Evenly, 10% each?" "I agree." "Me too." "Fine, let's go." As soon as the eerie voices pierced through the explosions, the apostle who spoke first began transforming rapidly. Blue scales enveloped him, and wings sprouted from his back. Four horns emerged on his lizard-like head, and his previously ordinary build doubled in size, tearing his robe to reveal bulging muscles. Resembling a mythical dragonkin, but slightly more massive. Subsequent apostles followed suit, morphing into similar monstrous forms, their scales varied only in color—golden instead of blue. Each apostle transformed indiscriminately, from the stereotypical dwarf form to a gargantuan representation, a massive elf, and an orc with a tremendous build. Lastly, one apostle transformed into a truly dragonkin form, more streamlined and with far larger wings than the others with scales. The six apostles shed their human forms, revealing a glimpse of their true selves. The dark crimson flames surrounding the area didn’t deter them as they each radiated their own unique colors, asserting their presence. "They're slightly beyond the limit of 8th class." Even for Logan, handling more than one apostle in this state seemed daunting. The only consolation was the visible degradation of the transformed apostles’ bodies, the foundation keeping them in the present world. "At best, they’ll last a week. There was a reason they hadn’t transformed until now." Logan watched the battle intently amidst immense tension, holding his breath. "This can’t be!" As the titanic clash of energies and explosions faded, a pile of people lay unceremoniously like logs, drawing his gaze. All were unconscious, clad in fine garments suggesting nobility. Among them, familiar faces caught Logan’s eye piled in one corner. A handsome middle-aged blond man, a black-haired woman collapsed beside him, and a scarred older man. "...Clayton, Louisa." While he could ignore the blond man, King Dongik, the other two he could not. Clayton had made significant contributions to the current Macline, and therefore must be saved. And Louisa, as well. "I'm a knight too. Whatever it is, never. My family, our house, the kingdom comes first." Upon seeing her, his sister’s face flashed in his mind. Though her voiced words differed, the sincerity of her soul also flickered within him. "I wish to save them." He couldn’t ignore his sister’s earnest wish. "...I'll save them both." Logan resolved himself, biting his lip as he steeled his resolve. It could be a foolish endeavor. This method of concealing his presence by splitting space was a recently developed trick, one he hadn’t tested fully for duration. Being revealed prematurely could lead to disastrous consequences. Moreover, by remaining passive, there was a chance everything could resolve on its own. The Tower Lord, transformed into a demon, wouldn't be able to manage the apostles for long. The apostles, revealing their true forms and risking the collapse of their physical bodies, would last a week at most, two weeks at best, before departing this world. However, if those two people were sacrificed in the process, Logan felt he couldn't face the other "family" members again. Ria, his sister. Even if he pretended not to see, he couldn't deceive his own conscience. "I must act." Having remained unnoticed thus far, now he could only attempt, as he always had. "I’ll wait for the moment they clash again." As Logan's eyes gleamed, the apostles charged towards the Tower Lord. Again, the dark crimson flames and various lights collided violently. Yet, the outcome this time was markedly different. "Aaaaugh!" The demon’s thick arm was severed and rapidly dissipated into black smoke. At this rate, the fight would conclude sooner than anticipated. As Logan moved discreetly with an anxious heart, a voice suddenly cut through. "There you are." The yellow eyes of the blue dragonkin fixed on him directly. "…Descendant of Gibrik." Crack. The power to slice through space broke effortlessly, revealing Logan's presence. "You dare deceive a god." "Foolish human." "Pay the price!" The orc, elf, and dwarf among the apostles turned towards him, unleashing their severe fury. Simultaneously, the demon who had screamed over a lost right arm let out a jubilant shout. "Logan Macline! Haha! The sacrifice came on its own!" Boom. Flash. Boom boom boom boom boom! As the demon stomped, an overwhelming energy erupted like a storm, sweeping through the arena, momentarily restraining the apostles and Logan, halting their movements. ‘Ugh!?’ His efforts to stay outside the spell's range proved futile. The apostles widened their eyes slightly, revealing their surprise at the binding force. A power that fully restrained the capabilities of space and soul, binding seven beings who nearly surpassed the 8th class—truly an astounding feat. And the result: "He comes!!! Ahahaha!!" Creak. Rustle rustle. Amidst the black smoke dissipating, maniacal laughter escaped from the demon. What madness kept him so joyful while his body crumbled? The demon, the Tower Lord's body, vanished, leaving only a silver crown and bracelet afloat. Finally, as even the black smoke cleared, a middle-aged man's severed arm floated in the air in the uncovered space. Adorned in resplendent golden armor, the man was all too familiar to Logan. "Emperor!?" Could the reason the Tower Lord had stood firm there be because of him? Why was the Emperor here? As the powerful binding force held him, Logan's questions only grew. The silver crown and bracelet found their way to the Emperor's head and right arm, respectively. "Finally…!" In that instant, a strange but familiar voice struck Logan's ears. The identity was revealed through the apostles' mouths first. "Zibrik!" Hum. The diverse energies radiated from the apostles but failed to break free from the powerful bindings created by Cassel, the Tower Lord. "I said we should’ve finished this sooner!" "Someone break these chains and step forward!" ‘Step forward?’ It almost sounded like anyone who steps forward could immediately break free from the binding. Yet behind the apostles who stayed unmoving, an even more captivating scene unfolded. Swish. The bodies of nobles piled behind the Emperor in the center of the magic circle suddenly began to wither rapidly. ‘What!?’ Those without special abilities seemed to lose life force first, suggesting Clayton and Louisa weren't immediately in peril, but Logan's anxiety only grew. Then, at that moment: "The sacrifice and the Avatar have switched, foolish descendant. But this is acceptable." Zibrik Cassel's voice echoed once more, and the crown on the Emperor's head jolted and flew toward Logan. As the crown fully settled on Logan’s head: "It’s been a long wait." The familiar voice resonated with words he felt he had heard before, and someone’s life began to swiftly unfold in his mind. Yet Logan, pressed for time, neither wanted to revisit what was already imprinted in his memory nor was he inclined to savor it. So inwardly, he yelled. "Zibrik Cassel!!" "That was the turning point of my life… How do you know me, descendant? Surely you didn’t before the return." Those words alone revealed much to Logan. Zibrik Cassel's splintered soul remembered its past life, but was unaware of having met him via the holy sword Baritas. Unaware, too, that Logan had erased a piece of that soul. "Archmage, betrayed by the nine gods, left behind comrades, and my ancestor. What more do I need to know?" "So my history remains somewhere… No matter. To have a descendant on the verge of the divine is gratifying for an ancestor. Worthy of the power spent on your return." "Take my divinity and rise as the true god of this land. It is my final wish…" "Screw that… just…" "Hm?" "Get lost!!" With a shout that burst aloud, the golden light surging from Logan’s soul hurled the intruder’s soul away in an instant. "What, what is this!?" The power of will to extinguish Zibrik Cassel’s soul. He hadn't fully grasped its mechanics before, but now it was clearer. "The return was not powered by you, Zibrik Cassel. It originated from the hopes of those who suffered at the hands of you and your descendants." That Logan’s power of desire reacted so fiercely to Zibrik Cassel’s soul was precisely due to this. "Don’t make me laugh! Such insignificant things…" "Had it not been for their wishes, how could you have possibly turned back time with a power that hadn't even captured its full divine status?" "Nonsense!" "Proud achievements, but even more shameful ancestor." Flash. "Now, just disappear." Crack. With those softly spoken words, the silver crown resting on Logan's head shattered into pieces and scattered. "How dare you!!!!!!" A terrifying roar reverberated through the cavern as the silver bracelet adorning the Emperor's right arm began to emit an intense light.