Chapter 71 – Extinction, The Coming (1)

The wind and rain intensified. The second-year students, making their way to the Shrine of Storms, tightened their robes, their discomfort evident.

At the front of the group, Rick turned to their guide, Peter, with a question. Something about the mana flow in the air felt unsettling.

“Are we really going through with this? The weather seems rather unfavorable today…”

“Yes, we must stick to the schedule. All students need to experience the nightmare before the training session ends.”

Ralph, another student, grumbled at Peter’s response.

“But it’s dangerous! Liv, don’t you agree?”

“Me? I… well…”

Boom——!!

A deafening thunderclap halted their steps momentarily. Peter frowned, checking the weather device in his hand before speaking.

“Let’s proceed to the shrine and assess the situation there. If the gate proves unstable, I’ll contact the tower master via the communication crystal.”

“…Understood.”

The group ascended the steep hill in silence. At the cliff’s edge stood a small shrine, before which yawned a gaping black hole. Surrounding it, swirling clouds and mist were swept into an unrelenting gale, reminiscent of dust and ice fragments drawn into a planet’s gravity.

Liv shuddered involuntarily at the sight of the ominous blackness, reminiscent of an abyss. Peter positioned the students before the shrine.

“Don’t look down—it’s dangerous. And refrain from reaching out to the gate recklessly. Damn it, why isn’t this thing working…”

The elevated terrain posed a risk of falling. As Peter tapped at the communication crystal, the other students turned their gaze to the view below the hill, where the rain-drenched expanse of Batudis unfolded.

Beyond the open gray plains, the endless stretch of land drenched in torrential rain was a sight to behold.

“How much magical hierarchy would it take to reproduce something like this?” Rick mused.

“Maybe around the 7th rank?” Ralph suggested.

“That high?”

“Well, Terra Ernestine’s <Grand Canal> is said to be 10th rank magic, and it reportedly brought rain like this for three days over an entire continent. For the Batudis region alone, 7th rank seems reasonable.”

“Hmm, I see…”

“What do you think, Liv?”

But Liv’s gaze remained fixed on the gate, leaving Rick and Ralph to their magical discussion. As she stared, she began to discern a familiar landscape within the black hole—a vision of Greenwood Forest, her cherished childhood home.

“Ah, finally…!” Peter exclaimed. “Tower Master, may I proceed to send the students in?”

Within the mysterious green tinged with sinister violet hues, Liv glimpsed a face she could no longer meet.

Ah… Father?

She took an unconscious step forward, only for an unknown force to yank her body violently.

Thud.

“Tower Master?”

“Liv?”

When her companions and Peter turned, the only trace left of Liv was the bag she had been carrying.

***

“Now do you see?”

The memory flooded back.

A crimson sky, dark as flowing blood. He had been frantically digging into the ground.

Heedless of discovery by other demons, he tore through the hills.

Covered in blood and sweat, he dug hole after hole without respite.

“Cough… So that’s how it was…”

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Instinctively, his mage’s mind wrapped mana around his heart to sustain it, but the hand that had crushed his clavicle could easily end his life at any moment.

“I wasn’t digging… to find my master…”

“…”

“But to bury a corpse… cough! Ha-ha…”

“That’s your nature.”

The man brushed wet black hair from his eyes, appearing as though he already knew everything. Before Dominic could ask how he had figured it out, the man spoke again.

“Dominic. I don’t believe you created this demonic statue. You might have altered its appearance with illusion magic, but you must’ve received it from someone else.”

“…Why would you think that?”

“Ironhound’s notes mention that these statues were discovered in Edenbury.”

Edenbury. Since the war’s end, Dominic had not once set foot in the northern seas ruled by Rochear.

His consciousness blurred, his limbs trembled mid-air, and his throat spewed clots of blood as the man continued.

“Time is short, so think carefully. Who gave it to you?”

Who was it? Who had handed him so many demonic relics, claiming they could revive his master?

The mage, though brilliant, couldn’t pinpoint anyone. He had encountered too many people.

To narrow it down to someone likely to be a demon’s pawn—

“Ah.”

In a death rattle, a single word escaped. Perhaps…

“I don’t know. I can’t narrow it down.”

“What? Damn it, think seriously. If I have to search again alone, it’ll be hopeless.”

“It wasn’t… just one person. The ones who mentioned the statues to me were…”

“Too many? What a damn mess.”

“No, it’s not that…”

When he revealed that the statues’ form wasn’t singular, the man’s expression hardened.

“Fuck.”

And then, almost as if reciting a prayer, he muttered,

“Guess she wasn’t dead after all.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“There’s someone who’s been forcing me to keep this damn magic active. I never found her body, you see.”

With that, the hand impaled in Dominic’s chest withdrew smoothly, and his body slumped forward.

Falling into a puddle of rainwater in the pit, Dominic realized he was on the brink of death.

“Good job.”

“…”

“Any last words?”

A final wish, one he hadn’t had the chance to hear before. Now, it was his turn.

“Master…”

Through tears mingled with rain and blood, Dominic recalled his master’s words.

Always be wary of illusions, Dominic.

Don’t let yourself be consumed by grandiose dreams. Mental imagery is a beacon, but get too close, and you’ll get burned.

“Forgive… your unworthy disciple…”

Watching Dominic’s lifeless body, Louis pulled a wet cigarette from his pocket.

“It’s warm where you’re going.”

As he turned to leave, the communication crystal in the ash-like remains of Dominic began emitting an urgent voice.

***

We have a problem, Tower Master! A student has fallen into Baldur’s Nightmare…!

We can’t verify the interior! Warnings from the observatory keep flooding in!

Wailing——!!

Wailing——!!

Wailing——!!

Just when it seemed everything was over, an ear-splitting alarm blared across the area.

The name of the student who had fallen into the gate reached my ears through the communication crystal.

Second-year student, Liv Labre.

“Shit…”

In hindsight, even dealing with this guy hadn’t improved the situation. The magic prepared to turn illusion into reality was already active.

I dashed toward the horizon, where an outcropping jutted out, as described through the communication crystal.

Braving the pouring rain, I drew closer. A mage from the Phecda Tower shouted upon seeing me.

“Who are you? Where’s the Tower Master!?”

“The bastard caused a massive shitstorm and then croaked.”

“What?”

“That thing, can’t you stop it?”

I pointed to the black hole greedily devouring the surrounding mist, resembling the birth of a nebula. At this rate, there was no telling what might emerge from within.

“It’s uncontrollable. Besides, there’s no known way to stop Baldur’s Nightmare!”

I had my doubts.

Up until now, the reason nightmares were smashed through brute force was that the phenomenon of <The End of Magic> manifesting as Baldur’s Nightmare couldn’t be broken directly.

However, this one was different—a collective of nightmares wandering all over Batudis. It looked fragile enough to shatter with a mere touch.

Still, I couldn’t recklessly deploy Unique Magic with Liv’s bag lying conspicuously in front of the gate. What would happen to her if the nightmare vanished entirely?

“Can’t you pull out the person inside?”

“Anyone who’s tried has been sucked in, except for the tower master…”

“Damn…”

In the end, there was only one way.

“Hey.”

I tossed the communication crystal to the bewildered mage who hadn’t yet grasped the situation.

“Evacuate everyone from the tower.”

“What?”

“We don’t know what might come out of there, so get as far away as possible.”

“And you?”

Of course…

“I’ll go get her.”

***

When Liv regained her senses, she was walking through a forest. Yet, the barren trees stripped of all but skeletal branches and the crimson sky that looked as if lava might spill over at any moment bore no resemblance to her childhood home.

“Ugh…!”

A vile stench carried by the hot wind and mingled with ash made her retch. It was her first encounter with the odor of death.

She collapsed, gagging, though nothing came up except a trace of stomach acid. This wasn’t anything like what her friends had described. It was far too vivid for an illusion.

As she steadied herself, leaning on a charred tree, someone spoke to her.

“What’s this? A survivor?”

A boy appeared, descending from higher ground, blackened leaves crunching underfoot. Seeing him, Liv instinctively reached for her staff.

His claws, unnaturally long for any human, and the half-burned, darkened skin covering one side of his face betrayed his nature.

And the small horn protruding from the left side of his head confirmed it.

The enemy of humanity.

“A demon…!”

“Harsh words. We sacrifice ourselves for humanity, and you still call us that? Are you from the Holy Kingdom?”

“‘We,’ you say…?”

“Anyway, follow me. This place isn’t safe.”

Though bewildered, Liv followed the boy as he cut through the forest. Along the way, they passed pits filled with corpses of unfamiliar monsters.

Beasts, humans, and demons alike. She hadn’t encountered a single living thing, but in just a few minutes, the number of dead bodies she’d seen was countless.

This is just a dream, an illusion, she repeated to herself. But in the back of her mind, the sinister term “fantasy murder” kept surfacing.

What if I can’t go back? No, where is the exit?

Is this place even an illusion? It feels so real—no one mentioned anything like this.

Snap.

At the sound of a breaking branch, she quickly turned her head, bumping into the boy who had stopped abruptly just before a sharp turn.

“What is it…?”

“Time to confirm something. Where are you from?”

“I’m from Farencia Academy…”

Stab!

Huh?

Liv looked down at the boy’s claw that had pierced her chest. He withdrew his hand and wiped the blood from his fingers.

“Hmm, Farencia. It’s relatively safe there, but I suppose people from there could show up. If you meet anyone from your region, say hi.”

“Cough…! What… are you…?”

“A simple check. Your attire is suspicious, but you don’t seem to be a doppelgänger… so I guess you’ll be of some use.”

He extended a normal human hand this time, different from the claw that had pierced her heart.

<Black Magic: Cellular Regeneration ⌜Regeneration⌟>

The blood that had been pouring out of the small wound stopped. Twisting the hand that had cast the spell, he offered it for a handshake.

“My name’s Kundra. I’m part of Pennheim’s royal army, the second unit of the 108th Lavierre Alliance Reconnaissance Battalion, ‘Skirmisher.’”

“Skirmisher…?”

“Yeah. Half-human, half-demon. A traitor to the demons. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

At that moment, Liv finally realized where she was. As Kundra pulled her around the bend, a sight she couldn’t believe stretched before her eyes.

“Oh, I forgot to ask your name. You’ll understand—it’s not common to exchange names here. Most of the people around here are already as good as dead.”

“This place… could it be…?”

“Yes.”

Towering mountains so high they seemed to pierce the clouds, with endless ridges extending to either side.

Between them stood innumerable military banners—most broken and burned, yet still fluttering.

Watchtowers scattered across the land emitted smoke from signal fires, while familiars and magical airships floated in the skies.

Knights fed their still-green mounts, mercenaries repaired fortifications, and mages inspected the charred areas they had just passed.

“Welcome to humanity’s last line of defense!”

Baldur’s Nightmare had led her to the Lavierre Mountain Range, the heart of the Great War.