I Became the Narrow-Eyed Henchman of the Evil Boss – Chapter 180

Chapter 180:『White Light』

As soon as Orthes stepped through the door, he felt blood trickle from his eyes.

The sheer amount of information was overwhelming. A battle between two Archmages connected to the Commandments. Hundreds, thousands, perhaps an uncountable number of magical energies were being loaded, intercepted, and consuming each other in a ferocious cycle.

He accelerated his thought process. Filtered out the unnecessary. Ignored all trajectories of lethal attacks that wouldn’t land.

He witnessed and analyzed the solemn flow conjured by White Light.

Orthes let out a hollow laugh. The condensed and focused energy formed into a ring reminiscent of a solar eclipse. It was a mystical secret of the Mage’s Ascension.

It was built on the same principles as connecting to the Divine Domain of the Artificial Commandments. A power drawn from a transcendent providence, far nobler and greater than this world, one that mortal realms could never dare to reach.

But White Light had constructed it not as a faint imitation through the Commandments, but purely with her own magic.

An infinite force. An absolute truth that stood above any law or principle of this world.

No magical defense, no material protection, could hold against it. Even a Holy Incantation user channeling divine authority wouldn’t be able to rival it.

Because divinity and divine power were entirely different concepts. Divine power was the imperfect attempt to confine the absolute nature of divinity within the limits of human understanding. Compared to divinity itself, divine power was inherently incomplete.

That spell was magic elevated to the level of divinity.

Perhaps only a Holy Spirit above even the saints could resist it. But the only two candidates capable of wielding the Holy Spirit—Kore, the Priestess, and the Pope—weren’t here.

Yet Orthes had his “eyes.”

Through ancient priestly dialogues and his own accumulated experiences, Orthes suspected his eyes were connected to something divine.

He wasn’t certain, though. No one had ever given him a clear answer to his questions.

But…

If I can’t succeed here, we’re all dead.

He widened his eyes and gripped his sword. The vast Celestial Sphere above and the starlit water landscape below—both crafted by magic. The formula to embed into this scene was—

Orthes realized that the sharpness of the High-Frequency Blade had amplified severalfold in an instant. Carisia.

The formula embedded within the High-Frequency Blade or the magic engraved device wouldn’t be enough to contend with that monumental magic.

Only Carisia’s magic—no, only her magic, closer to White Light’s realm than anyone else’s—could disrupt the intricate mechanics of that spell.

Orthes plunged his blade into the starlit waterscape. An incomprehensible movement. White Light recognized the person behind such an action.

Every step he took was a variable. Every motion was a disruption. He was the Ender of the Mythical Era. The Mage King.

For the first time, White Light felt a strange mix of déjà vu and unfamiliarity toward this unexpected swordsman. She didn’t dismiss her intuition. She shifted the target of Infinite Starlight.

***

The galaxy came into view.

The magic White Light had prepared to kill Carisia—a spell of absolute lethality—was awe-inspiring in its sheer construction.

Countless formulas and an unimaginable amount of mana had crystallized into a shape that could only be described as a starry expanse. A pure white brilliance, so dazzling it threatened to blind.

I looked at the blade in my hand, forged to challenge the galaxy itself.

Carisia’s magic had also taken the form of a star. A single thread of starlight, pitifully faint compared to the galaxy’s overwhelming radiance.

But it was enough.

I categorized the magic.

Beneath the galaxy-representing magic of the solar eclipse, there was the magic forming White Light’s domain.

The erosion of the Artificial Commandments clashing against White Light’s domain. And between those two, countless offensive spells were aimed at each other.

The magic of the solar eclipse was the canvas, and every other spell was my paint.

The single thread of starlight Carisia had handed me soon became a comet, streaking through the galaxy. Its erratic movement disrupted the silent order controlling all the galaxy’s stars. Its scale was laughably insignificant, but it created a crack nonetheless.

Following the comet’s trail, other streams of light began pouring in. They were the power of the Artificial Commandments, beams prepared by Carisia, and counterattacks from White Light.

The chaos of colors painted over the galaxy. The starlight, which had previously flowed serenely under White Light’s control, began producing discordant notes. The darkened domain cast shadows of a black nebula, scattering stardust that refracted the galaxy’s light in random directions, distorting its focus.

Thus, across the pristine white Milky Way, vibrant arcs of color began to bloom.

***

White Light gathered the most refined, condensed concept of “light” at her fingertips through Infinite Starlight. A single drop of that pure light was enough to bleach all creation into nothingness.

But then it happened. The sound of shattering glass, the tolling of a high tower’s bell, the freezing of a winter sea, the roaring boil of the sun.

All these sounds blended into a single tone that filled the space.

At the exact moment when the light extended in a straight line from her fingertips, White Light instinctively realized something was wrong.

The mana concentrated within the domain had caused the trajectory of the light to refract ever so slightly.

This should not have happened. If Infinite Starlight had been perfected, no such phenomenon could occur. A beam that ignored the laws of the lower realm, advancing in an unerring straight line, erasing all in its path—it shouldn’t have been deflected by mere mana.

She saw the dark-haired swordsman open his eyes wide. Within those blue eyes spun an immeasurable depth of the unknown, beyond this world’s comprehension.

It was an ominous sight. Even if the spell wasn’t entirely complete and thus failed to fully project the providence of ascension, anyone struck by that light should have been erased along with the surrounding space.

But the light’s advance was blocked. It was Carisia’s hastily constructed seven-colored defensive spell.

White Light’s mana-detection ability reported that Infinite Starlight had been neutralized. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t dismiss the possibility that her sixth sense, refined through magic, was being deceived by an illusion, so she glanced behind her.

The ring of light connecting heaven and earth was crumbling into fragments.

***

Carisia appeared beside Orthes through photonization. It was the result of quickly pulling herself together during the brief moment White Light had launched Infinite Starlight.

“Damn it. That woman fights dirtier than I thought.”

“Is this really the time for comments like that?”

It was a scolding tinged with worry, implying she would’ve been helplessly killed if Carisia hadn’t arrived in time. Carisia grinned at Orthes’s concern and retorted.

“You’re not exactly one to talk.”

She gestured toward the blood streaming from Orthes’s bloodshot eyes. Orthes merely shrugged.

“It’s more manageable than I thought.”

“Keep disrupting her magic. I’ll adjust my attack angles, and I’ll block as much as I can of her lethal spells. You keep attacking.”

“What a reckless plan. A game of chicken, where either White Light or we die first.”

“Well, there are two of us, so she’ll probably go down first, don’t you think?”

Their exchange served as both strategy discussion and a brief respite to recover. Carisia restored her body through mana, while Orthes blinked to readjust his vision.

They moved in a way that covered each other’s blind spots—something they had done often during their desperate days in the Screaming Desert.

A sense of dissonance struck Orthes. An attack that should have followed hadn’t.

He turned to look at White Light, who stood with her back turned to them, and the fragmented ring of light beyond her.

“Boss, I’m going ahead.”

He charged forward.

***

For a moment, ripples appeared on White Light’s expressionless face. If her Infinite Starlight had merely been blocked, she might have been able to comprehend it. The mage before her, after all, was her own most ideal creation.

Compared to the millennia White Light had lived, the mage’s lifespan was but a speck of dust. Yet, perhaps through sheer talent of her body, she might have blossomed into a mage equal to White Light herself.

But just now, Infinite Starlight wasn’t countered by her creation—it was undone by a swordsman. A technique that nullified the spell itself, a feat neither seen nor possible before.

No—

A memory surfaced in White Light’s mind, of someone, or perhaps something, that had once resided in the deepest part of her consciousness.

If it was the Mage King, he might have achieved such a feat. No, “might” wasn’t enough. He absolutely would have.

Was this swordsman, Orthes, standing in the same realm as the Mage King?

Impossible. The Mage King was a figure who existed once and never again, as he must not.

While White Light was lost in her thoughts, Orthes’s blade struck. White Light conceded her mistake, offering her left arm as a sacrifice. With just a few seconds, she could regenerate her body with ease.

“…!”

Her calculation was off. The flesh cleaved by Orthes’s blade didn’t regenerate. The very structure of her body, crafted from mana and bound by formulas, began collapsing.

White Light recalled a memory of those who once trained in swordsmanship solely to dismantle magic. She had suspected they might have survived into this era, but she never imagined they would side with Hydra Corporation.

“The Demon-Hunting Sword Technique. You must be the Order’s leader.”

“Who knows? Why don’t you try being a bit more creative?”

Carisia noticed White Light’s disturbance. Though hidden beneath her stoic face, the very fact that she spoke revealed her composure was shaken.

“Who could possibly exist in this world capable of breaking your magic?” she teased with a mischievous grin.

In truth, by succession, Kine was merely the second to inherit Orthes’s swordsmanship.

The one who had spent more time with Orthes than anyone else was none other than Carisia.