Botan’s fortress wasn’t built for defense. It looked more like a fang reaching towards the sky, forged from a desire to show off and dominate. The gallery was adorned with the decaying skulls of dead warriors hanging on poles, and crows flew between them.
The path leading to the fortress was littered with demon corpses. Steel and rocks were scattered chaotically, forming an arched bridge over flowing lava.
-Kugugugung…….
Occasional tremors of unknown origin shook the ground. Fernandez, supported by Kirhas, slowly walked towards the fortress.
-Are you okay?
‘What?’
-Pain.
Dark Mages are quite familiar with pain. bl**d, souls, and flesh are the preferred offerings for demons, and the easiest way to obtain these is through self-harm.
The numerous tattoos covering Faijashi’s body weren’t just for their magical significance. They also served to cover the countless scars from self-inflicted wounds.
For him to mention pain was, paradoxically, almost a joke. A jest to lighten Fernandez’s sharpened and sensitive nerves. So, Fernandez decided to play along. He chuckled.
‘If I were to list the three best things about obtaining Diemonica’s body, it would be less need for sleep, faster recovery, and strong endurance. Even if both arms were crushed, I could endure it.’
-That’s a relief. Ah, right. Those Diemonica guys were strangely tough. No matter how much you tore them apart, they kept coming back.
Faijashi shivered as he spoke. Fernandez laughed at his exaggerated gesture, feeling a bit more clear-headed.
-Ouch.
But that didn’t mean the pain was gone. Losing a body part you’ve used your whole life brings more than just nerve pain. Every instinctive attempt to move his arm, every step, brought waves of pain crashing over him.
Still, it was bearable. Fernandez steadied his breathing. Strength was gradually returning to his steps. It was a monstrous recovery.
“Your Excellency. I’m here.”
Every time Fernandez controlled his breathing, Kirhas whispered in his ear. She repeated it softly but firmly, as if trying to transfer her energy. Surprisingly, it helped. Fernandez nodded slightly.
Then, he pushed her away.
“Huh, Your Excellency?”
“I can walk alone. Kirhas. I need to walk alone.”
-Swish.
He pulled out the greatsword from his back with his left arm. The sharp sound of friction was chilling. Kirhas, flustered, looked straight ahead.
-Kugugugung…….
The gate to Botan’s fortress slowly opened. A massive steel gate, streaked with red rust like oil paint, creaked open in sync with their approach. Kirhas narrowed her eyes sharply at the sight.
“Your Excellency, don’t stray from my side.”
“Haha, Kirhas……. Don’t you stray from me.”
Kirhas spoke with a sense of solemnity. She believed Fernandez losing the use of one arm was entirely her fault.
“How arrogant, Botan.”
Beyond the massive gate, across a long garden, at the end of the corridor. A man stood before an altar made of brass and steel.
An old man with a long spear slung over his shoulder looked down at them with a sly smile.
[Arrogance, you say……. Well, isn’t it natural?]
The old man spoke in a low voice. Like a snake slithering, his voice reached them across the distance without needing to be loud.
A hot wind blew. The rain had stopped.
[Asgard is my domain, and you are mere intruders. Mortals. Arrogance, arrogance. I am the king of the Aesir, the ruler of victory, war, warriors, magic, and mystery. Among all Aesir, none are older or greater than I.]
-Creeeak……. Thud.
As Fernandez and Kirhas stepped into the corridor, the gate behind them closed. Rusty hinges twisted, locking themselves, and iron bars descended to block the entrance.
“Your Excellency. We’re trapped.”
“Am I?”
Fernandez deftly spun the greatsword in his left hand. He quickly assessed his condition. Far from perfect, facing a mage who had fully established his domain and a god who had reached the pinnacle of divinity.
-I’ve never killed a god before.
‘This will be a good opportunity.’
A familiar presence emanated from Botan. The stench of sticky hellish magic……. The experience of a Dark Mage and Diemonica’s sense of smell combined to detect the unmistakable stench of corruption.
And corruption, in any case, leads to the same result. Self-destruction. No matter how much power or secrets one gains, the power from hellish magic is merely a debt, with one’s soul as collateral.
“How many of your kin have you killed?”
[Countless.]
“How many souls have you sacrificed?”
[Too many to count.]
Their conversation intertwined like a poetic exchange. They slowly approached each other, no hostility in their gaze, only familiarity.
[You feel familiar to me. You…… have learned the secrets of hell. I see an indelible sin in the depths of your soul.]
Botan’s single eye gleamed wickedly. A three-eyed crow flapped down onto his shoulder.
“Once.”
[If you once sought this power, this knowledge, you should know. You stand no chance. But I hold your soul in high regard. The great serpent is also quite interested in you. Now……. Tame the woman by your side and kneel before me.]
-Whoosh…….
For a moment, Fernandez’s heart raced violently. A sticky, hot wind tangled his hair. His vision turned red, and his grip on the greatsword tightened.
He gritted his teeth. It’s magic. A type of mental magic. The decorations and structure of this fortress and corridor formed a kind of barrier, and within it, Botan was suppressing their minds with mere words.
“Ugh.”
“Stay focused, Kirhas.”
Kirhas’s eyes were turning red. Botan hadn’t cast his magic solely on Fernandez. Kirhas bared her teeth, growling as she glared at Botan.
[Now, k*ll. Accept your fate.]
The whispers grew stronger. It felt as if the earth itself was shaking. Fernandez instinctively knew it wasn’t a physical vibration. Botan was engraving his words deep into their souls, into the realm of instinct.
“Shut up!”
-Clang!
Suddenly, Kirhas drew her sword and growled. Her bloodshot eyes fiercely stared ahead. Botan smirked at her.
[You have a strong will, child. Now, mortal. I will break the precarious boundary of your soul. Take my hand, kiss it. Submit to the authority of the Aesir. I shall grant you a fragment of true power, the wisdom of Rune Glyphs.]
“I’ve already learned it.”
[What?]
Fernandez pushed the trembling Kirhas aside. His wounded body felt dizzy, and the arm holding the greatsword felt distant. It was hard. He sighed. He was tired. He needed rest. And the temptation, promising power and peace, was strong.
But. He was more accustomed to tempting others than being tempted himself.
