Free Web Novel— Kill the Saintess and seize the Sacred Stone.
That was the command handed down from the Pope.
But Darentz couldn’t simply repeat it word for word. He didn’t know what the Dragon Lord was thinking.
“I... I merely came on His Holiness’s orders to confirm whether the Julien Mercenary Corps is alive or dead. As for killing the Saintess... that’s not something I can decide.”
Darentz smoothly shifted the topic. He repeatedly emphasized that he was only a subordinate carrying out orders, that whatever was done was not of his own will.
There was no way Arterion could fail to understand the meaning behind Darentz’s words. And he had already guessed what the current Pope thought of the Saintess.
So he said,
“The reason the dragons made a pact with the Pope was to fight against the Demonic Realm. So tell him this.”
Rumble...
Arterion’s intense aura closed in around Darentz.
“Tell him not to take the hard path, but to stand against the Demonic Realm together with the Saintess. Promises are always open to interpretation. Understood?”
The pact had been made, but the range of possible interpretations was vast. In other words, while the dragons could not openly obstruct the Pope’s affairs, they could always exert indirect pressure.
Darentz, trembling under the suffocating presence, bowed his head deeply.
“I will... make certain to convey the will of the Great One.”
'The Saintess is alive!'
Darentz let out a faint sigh of relief. If she was alive, the Pope would, for now, be reassured.
But then Arterion’s voice once again pierced his ears.
“This is not advice. It is a warning.”
He had never thought highly of the current Pope. From the first time they met, Arterion had sensed something very wrong.
In the Pope’s gaze, an odd emptiness and greed had coexisted.
'A look no ordinary human could possibly have.'
But he could not oppose the election of the Pope. According to the law handed down from the very beginning, only humans could choose the Pope.
He had not interfered with the election, but even under the Pope’s persistent demands, he had refused to hand over the Sacred Stone. A dragon’s intuition had sensed the ominousness emanating from the Pope.
'I thought he’d vanish soon enough since he was just a human...'
That expectation had been wrong. With the Demonic Realm’s rise in this era, the Pope now wielded more authority than anyone.
There was no helping it now. All he could do was hope the Saintess and the Julien Mercenary Corps could persuade the Pope without incident.
The only things he could do at present were to help the Julien Mercenary Corps grow stronger, and send a warning like this.
Arterion spoke slowly.
“The Saintess is alive. The Julien Mercenary Corps as well. So don’t worry—return.”
“C-can you tell me how long they intend to stay here?”
Darentz’s mouth went dry.
If they said they planned to live here permanently... things would get complicated. They might have to wait for them for the rest of their lives. Even if the Pope asked for the Saintess’s return, they would have to wait until the Dragon Lord agreed to release her. free𝑤ebnovel.com
Naturally, Darentz had no desire to live like that.
Arterion answered with a voice full of derision.
“Who knows...? The Julien Mercenary Corps and the Saintess are trying to persuade me right now. I’m interested in them, so I’m watching a little longer... but if you wish, I can send them back right this instant.”
“Gasp! N-no! I’ve confirmed they’re alive, so I will report that to His Holiness!”
Darentz flinched in fright and bowed again.
If Arterion used his excuse as a reason to withhold the Sacred Stone, his own life would be in danger. Better to retreat for now and await the Pope’s next command.
But Arterion had no intention of letting him go so easily.
“You’re the Pope’s envoy, so I can’t kill you. Leave an arm behind.”
“W-what do you mean by that?”
“The price for your insolence. Be grateful that the pact allows me to leave it at this.”
“G-great one...”
“Place your arm on the magic circle. I’ll give you the choice of which one.”
The air grew heavy the moment Arterion finished speaking.
Darentz, trembling, placed his left arm on the magic circle.
He had no idea what insolence he had committed, but instinct told him that refusing would bring an even greater cost.
Fwoooosh!
In an instant, a burst of icy energy erupted from the magic circle. The chill bored into his bones, freezing his arm solid.
Craaaash!
The frozen arm shattered into countless fragments, scattering in all directions. Ice shards flew, and Darentz let out a groan full of despair.
“Ghhhhh...”
Now he understood exactly what the dragon had meant about “room for interpretation.”
The dragons might not openly interfere with the Pope’s affairs, but damaging his subordinates like this was entirely possible.
Arterion’s voice echoed again.
“Go and tell the Pope everything you’ve heard here. If the Julien Mercenary Corps succeeds in persuading me, I’ll hand over the Sacred Stone. Tell him to wait.”
“...Understood.”
Darentz staggered as he turned away. He clenched his teeth in a way that wouldn’t show outwardly, flames of fury rising inside him. But a deeper fear held him in its grip, keeping him from uttering a word.
'Just wait and see...'
For now, all he could do was swear to himself that he would one day catch and kill the Saintess.
Arterion watched Darentz’s back for a moment. He could still see him clearly even from afar thanks to a special method.
In the massive spear hovering before him, the scenery around the altar was perfectly projected.
He turned his body slowly.
“Will that do?”
Ghislain nodded.
“Yes. Thank you for the consideration.”
“Even with the pact, I could kill that one without issue. Reducing the number of transcendents makes ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) persuasion easier, doesn’t it?”
It was true. Putting some pressure on the Pope so he wouldn’t act rashly wasn’t a bad idea.
But Ghislain shook his head.
“There’s someone else who’s supposed to kill him. I’d like to leave it to her.”
Ghislain had spared Darentz for Marika’s sake—she wanted to take revenge on him herself.
Of course, having someone else carry out her revenge wouldn’t be bad, but her goal was to kill Darentz and destroy the Crips entirely. If he died now, her resolve could weaken, leaving her with a hollow emptiness.
“...I see. If that’s what you want.”
Arterion replied without much concern and waved his hand lightly.
Ssshh...
The projected scenery vanished at a single gesture.
Ghislain asked curiously, “What kind of magic is that?”
“Nothing special. Just a combination of spatial magic and vision magic. It takes quite a lot of mana, though.”
“Mmm, impressive.”
As expected of a dragon—he spoke casually about a method that consumed enormous amounts of mana.
Of course, Ghislain believed that one day he would reach that level himself. He didn’t doubt that future in the slightest. Strong conviction eventually became the power to make reality.
And that conviction... had been passed entirely onto Astion.
“Urgh! Why do I always have to be the one stuck with the headache-inducing study?!”
Magic from the 8th Circle onward was on a whole different level of difficulty compared to everything before it. But Ghislain didn’t even blink—because he had absolutely no intention of studying himself into a headache. That was why, in his consciousness, he cheered Astion on with all his might.
— You can do it. I firmly believe that ‘I’ will reach the 8th Circle.
“Why are you trying to realize that belief through me?!”
— I believe in myself... believing in you.
“What kind of nonsense is that?!”
In the end, Astion had no choice but to study alone night after night. Well, not always alone.
From time to time, Naktura, an 8th-circle mage, would help with his studies on Arterion’s orders. Naturally, Naktura—still holding a grudge over his failed escape from slavery—would take every chance to verbally abuse Astion.
“What, are you stupid? How can you not understand this? Seriously, even these days they let dimwits become mages? Back in my time, only the smart ones made it.”
Naktura pushed Astion mercilessly, driven by the memories of how badly Ghislain had beaten him. He had no idea that the one who hit him and the one learning magic now were two different souls.
In the end, it was Astion who took all the abuse. Naktura, for his part, found the constant scolding strangely therapeutic.
'It really is important to talk to people.'
Mages were, by nature, solitary beings who enjoyed their own company. They preferred to be alone, playing or musing in their own thoughts—so long as it was by choice, within a normal society. Being forced to live in isolation like this was not something anyone would enjoy.
'This is so much fun!'
Inwardly, he wished the Julien Mercenary Corps would just keep living here.
Even so, Naktura reported Astion’s progress to Arterion every time—that was also part of his orders. And then, on the day Astion finally clawed his way to the 8th Circle despite all the abuse, Naktura learned of a promise he had never known about.
“Has Astion reached the 8th Circle?”
“Yes. He’s only just entered it, but he has reached that realm. Would you like to confirm it yourself?”
“No, that’s fine. If you say so, I’ll take your word for it. Then it’s time for you to leave.”
“...Leave? But I serve you, Lord, don’t I?”
Naktura was taken aback. To him, “leave” sounded like he was about to be completely annihilated. And for someone who had become a lich to escape death and live forever, true annihilation was the most terrifying fate imaginable.
Arterion looked at him with a faint hint of regret.
“When you were briefly destroyed, I promised that if Astion reached the 8th Circle, I would hand you over to him.”
“M-me?”
“That’s right. You’ll become Astion’s slave and help the Julien Mercenary Corps. Can you manage that?”
“Of course! I can do that!”
“When Astion’s mastery ripens a bit more, I’ll transfer the contract. Keep that in mind.”
“I will obey your command, Lord!”
Inside, Naktura was shouting for joy.
'Perfect! This is perfect!'
It was sheer good fortune that his face was a skull and couldn’t show expressions—he was barely restraining the urge to jump for joy. Living in this frozen wasteland with only a dragon was terrifying, miserable, and boring. No matter what he ended up doing with the Julien Mercenary Corps, it would be better than living here.
From that day onward, Naktura’s attitude changed completely.
“Ah, a genius! I’ve never seen such a genius in my life. Ah, I’d swear you were a dragon!”
“...???”
“How can someone know not ten but a hundred things after being taught one? Amazing. Where have you been hiding until now?”
“...???”
Astion looked at him with suspicion. Someone who had bullied and harassed him every day was suddenly full of praise—it was suspicious. And worse...
“Studying must be tiring, huh? Oh, look at those stiff shoulders. You need a good massage at times like this.”
...was the way that bony hand kept giving him massages while he studied. It sent shivers down his spine.
For a while, Astion kept his guard up against Naktura’s sudden change. Then he realized the reason.
'So that bastard only just found out his ownership is being transferred to Ghislain!'
He had thought Naktura already knew, but apparently Arterion had only told him recently. Once Astion understood that, he no longer held back. It was his chance to repay all the harassment.
Whenever he felt the slightest difficulty or annoyance while studying, he ordered Naktura around.
“Water.”
“...”
“Fruit.”
“...”
“Shoulders.”
“...”
Naktura obeyed every order without a word—a groveling investment in their future relationship.
Thanks to that, Astion could now study in far greater comfort after reaching the 8th Circle. And without fail, as soon as he cast a spell once or twice, Ghislain would forcibly engrave it into his own body and master it.
Every time he saw that, Astion would click his tongue.
'Seriously, that’s a monstrous sense for magic.'
He still couldn’t grasp how Ghislain could learn spells like that—using the power of will to act in harmony with the laws of the world was a realm beyond even the transcendent.
The rest of the group improved quickly as well, especially in terms of mana reserves, which now far surpassed their previous levels.
As time went on, Ghislain grew more ambitious.
'If we could train in such a perfect environment for just a few more years, I could probably make even Osvald a transcendent...'
“Osvald the man! I have grown revolutionary strong again today!”
Even lazy Osvald was fairly satisfied with life here, so long as nothing dangerous was happening. After all the life-threatening hardships he’d endured, training seemed preferable.
But Ghislain’s wish was impossible. Humanity simply didn’t have the time he wanted.
On the third year since they had arrived here, Arterion called the group to him and spoke in a heavy voice.
“It seems we must move now.” frёeωebɳovel.com
“Has something happened?”
In answer to Ghislain’s question, Arterion waved his hand. The space rippled like water, and soon a crimson, shadowy scene unfolded before their eyes.
“This is an image another dragon placed in a crystal sphere to send me news. It’s short and unstable, but enough to grasp the situation.”
Kyaaaaaah!
Monstrous creatures rampaged through a burning ruin. Ghislain knew those creatures.
Riftspawn.
The monsters from another realm had finally shown themselves.
Arterion stared at them with a deep, serious gaze and spoke again.
“The army of the Demonic Realm has moved.”
His head slowly turned toward Deneb.
“And faster than expected.”
