Ch.217The Final Work Order of the Corrupt Boss

Arabelle pleaded with the president.

“President? Um… If you’re going to launch a mass attack, wouldn’t it be better to detach Elysion and drop it?”

Carisia shook her head. Arabelle couldn’t understand why Carisia was being so stubborn.

“Right! Director Bertrand provided the steam engine designs and blueprints for the Silver Iron Magic Tower’s mages to alchemize and assemble the materials—”

“Director Bertrand is currently focused on calibrating the anti-magic field with External Director Kaicle. Apparently, numerous errors occurred during the short time they supervised the construction of this steamship.”

Arabelle closed her mouth. She had built up various mechanical engineering knowledge from being summoned to Bertrand and Kaicle’s work frequently, and she had immediately figured out how to pilot this ship.

The piloting method was actually much simpler compared to the spider-type information gathering enchantware she usually used.

‘But…!’

“What about the water needed for navigation!”

Arabelle didn’t want to approach that mythical battleground where the Magic King and Ortes were facing off.

“Director Arabelle.”

Carisia smiled gently.

“Just do it.”

Arabelle had to force herself to smile.

Carisia watched Arabelle heading to her position with a sad smile and thought.

At least one thing Arabelle pointed out was certain. A mass attack from a mere steamship would be meaningless against the Magic King. Even crashing the entire Etna-Elysion into him would be pointless.

However, Carisia never thought this steamship itself could inflict damage on the Magic King.

This was a symbol.

Noiro’s arrowhead. A signal emitted from a tool that operates without magic, just like this ship. Now was truly the time to set sail.

Carisia summoned water using ancient magic she had read from the White Light’s memories—primitive magic from the time before the Magic King existed.

***

Kine was meeting with Niobe and Kore. In a sense, it was a gathering of Ortes’s victims, but the situation was too urgent to realize this fact and deepen their friendship.

Niobe had brought all the detailed materials about the ancient god’s cult and all remaining sacred artifacts from the Blasphemia archives.

There was a limit to how many sacred artifacts one person could handle, and it was questionable how effective they would be against the Magic King, no matter how many were used.

‘The Magic King, huh.’

Niobe couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. How did she, once a mere low-ranking member of Blasphemia, end up in this position? She could understand becoming a key figure in an internal coup, but she never expected to be present at a historic and mythical battlefield facing the reincarnated Magic King.

‘Senior L13… No. Ortes, was it?’

She now questioned whether that person was truly her senior. But that wasn’t the important element. The Magic King—the embodiment of the mandate of heaven that Ortes had proposed to bring down together—was threatening the world.

Niobe had no intention of accepting a mandate that destroyed people. If that was heaven’s mandate, she would gladly contribute to defying it.

She handed over all information to Kine, from ancient records collected long ago to modern printouts.

Kine reluctantly took the hand of Blasphemia’s current de facto leader, yet somehow felt a sense of kinship with someone else who had been deceived by Ortes.

“So, Kine… was it? Can you actually do something with these records?”

It was Kore who answered, not Kine.

“Yes. I am the priestess of the underworld god Pluto. With sufficient mediums, I can summon souls sleeping from ancient times.”

Kore said this while glancing at Kine’s face. Though their hair colors differed, the two had a surprisingly similar aura.

Kine demonstrated with action rather than words. With a snap of her fingers, translucent figures wearing tunics from the ancient mythological era began to line up behind her.

The shadow procession wore more ancient attire closer to Kine, and more modern appearances further away. Seeing a somehow familiar face at the very end of the procession, Kine nodded resolutely.

To properly say goodbye to everyone in the Bacchus cult, she needed to protect this world now.

***

Something fell from the sky. Ortes instantly sensed that magical spatial movement had been activated.

However, this ‘magic’ was somehow different from the magic originating from the Magic King he was facing. He didn’t have enough time to observe and confirm exactly what the difference was.

What bewildered Ortes even more than the strange difference in magic was the nature of the object that entered his vision. The simple words “steamship” written on it.

Suddenly?

Why on earth a steamship?

It was a far less efficient power source compared to magical engines. And it didn’t seem to have any decisive weapon attached to it either.

The portal Carisia activated made an emergency landing at the battlefield of the Magic King, according to coordinates transmitted by Noiro. Seeing the rapidly approaching ground, Arabelle squeezed her eyes shut and prayed.

Fortunately, although the steamship crashed into the ground with a thunderous roar, it didn’t shatter into pieces. This was thanks to some defensive magic Carisia had activated.

“President?”

This was equally perplexing. The Magic King couldn’t use magic, so how could Carisia?

The Magic King watched the scene with interest.

Primitive magic of the White Light, I see. You were a pitiful child who honed primitive magic even before I taught you. Are you that child’s daughter?

Primitive magic. Magic that handled mana itself from the mythological era, before “magical power” spread throughout the world by the Magic King.

It was magic with roots different from modern magic founded by the Magic King.

“I wonder. I don’t particularly want to resemble such a human.”

Carisia emerged from the crash-landed steamship, dusting off her hands, wearing a gauntlet newly forged by Bertrand.

But only on her right hand. The gauntlet that should have been on her other hand was nowhere to be seen.

How foolish. The White Light abandoned primitive magic because it was weak. Your ability to draw upon ancient knowledge in this short time is a noteworthy display of ingenuity, but it’s a futile hope.

“Is that so!”

A familiar voice arrived. Kine. She held Aigio’s scales high, with Bacchus’s grapes placed upon them.

Bacchus was not only the god of wine but also called “the twice-born god,” symbolizing resurrection from death. The only priest of Bacchus in the current era had joined hands with the priestess of the underworld god Pluto.

All the spirits of priests they could summon, from the mythological era until now, were present.

The Magic King lightly praised them.

Quite an impressive army.

But have you forgotten that even the greatest practitioners among them, even the mightiest demigods, fell before me?

Ortes looked at Carisia. A look asking if all preparations were complete. Carisia shook her head.

She was waiting for the final symbol.

***

Because Astrape hadn’t learned the regular curriculum of the Ten Towers or other magic towers, she could grow without being bound by any framework of magic. She could extend her magical senses further into other dimensions than anyone else in the Lampades Magic Tower, thanks to that unlimited imagination.

‘I suppose seeing Ortes as someone sent by father was an extension of that…’

Lampades recalled Carisia’s request: to let Astrape freely unfold the magic she dreamed of.

That sounded nice.

Except that what Carisia provided as “materials for Astrape’s magic presentation” was the Ten Commandments.

Lampades watched Astrape with fear and also expectation.

Astrape looked up at the sky. As strange materials from other dimensions fell like dots, coloring the world, a night sky full of stars hung in the middle of the heavens.

It was a blank space in the sky desperately created by the priests of the Divine Name Order, including Joaquin and Demos, to receive Ortes’s signal.

Astrape recalled her old days living in Etna City. Her mother would look at such night skies and whisper stories about her father and his magic.

At those times, Astrape would imagine what that magic might be. Talking with fairies from stories, plucking stars, and frolicking on clouds.

Again, she looked at another part of the sky. She saw the scene of extra-dimensional rain falling and the world crumbling beneath it.

‘Is this magic?’

No. It couldn’t be. The magic she had imagined wasn’t this terrifying and frightening. For Astrape, magic was the magic from fairy tales her mother used to tell her long ago.

She first took out the Dark Abyss.

To paint the night sky, she needed the color black.

***

Suddenly, the sky turned dark. It was a scene of pure blackness covering the colorful shadows from other dimensions.

Then, dots of light began to appear in the sky. White, silver, and various blue stars. I realized that the darkness covering the sky was magical power emanating from the Ten Commandments’ Dark Abyss. The stars taking root in the night sky must have also originated from the Ten Commandments, each with their symbolic colors.

I hurriedly looked back at Carisia. Using the Ten Commandments’ magical power like this would inevitably weaken the anti-magic field.

The Magic King’s presence expanded. Once again, that infinite magical power extended its grasp toward the world.

And Carisia nodded. Trusting that intuition, I proceeded with my final task.