Chapter 592 – Crodon Olentia (3)
Indeed, setting aside his revolting inner self, Crodon Olentia was a mighty Magus.
Though limitations had emerged in his use of magic, the ability he had built since his Academy days—bolstered by the abundant resources of the Bohemirn Magic Tower—was nothing short of a mountain.
Moreover, before raiding the Grand Hall, he had boosted his abilities with every potion imaginable.
"..."
Yet, that alone was not enough to fully contend with Isabella's strength.
The space of the Grand Hall was in ruins.
The floor was scorched and broken, and the once-closed doors were splintered apart.
Clang!
A long icicle of Corrosion brushed past his shoulder before he could respond. The robe wasn't pierced, but a gem from [Quarto] fell.
'Only one gem left.'
Though the moment to unleash [Quarto]'s true power was approaching, Crodon's expression twisted subtly.
'To activate the artifact, I have to clasp the entire bracelet with my other hand and utter the trigger phrase. But right now, I can't.'
Isabella, while leaving herself some leeway, was keeping her gaze fixed on the bracelet.
Depending on how Crodon reacted when the last fourth gem was consumed, she was ready to respond instantly.
'The gap between when the remaining gem drops and when [Quarto] activates won't even be three seconds… but even that's too long.'
Naturally, Crodon's magic-resistance items were of the highest grade. Even being struck directly by a 6th-tier upper-class spell wouldn't kill him.
And yet, his instincts screamed that he mustn't allow himself to be hit carelessly, so grotesque was Isabella's magic.
Not only could she surpass others' spells and interfere with their magic directly, but she could also damage the mana resistance of objects, forcibly rendering them vulnerable to sorcery.
Such a form of magical understanding—he had never heard or seen its like.
'Still, Isabella can't use those eyes engraved with a magic circle right now.'
That was how Crodon knew—the faint sense of alien energy that had been pulsing within his body was gone.
'She used it twice—once on me, and once on my clone. So the number of uses within a given period must be three in total.'
Eyes that manifest magical phenomena.
That sort of trait usually appeared only among ancient bloodlines—so how could Isabella have gained it artificially?
It didn't seem to be the result of consuming refined blood from some special being either...
Regardless.
'I know what I have to do.'
Subdue Isabella, drag her out of the Grand Hall, then find Verden—the one claiming she's still alive—and kill him before her very eyes.
No, it would be better to use it as an unofficial test subject again..
Just having survived the power outage and having a limited lifespan is more than enough to warrant further research.
A judgment based purely on reason.
Such high-level reasoning was something Crodon had learned from the Tower Master of Bohemirn.
"I didn't expect you to still be able to move after burning most of your flesh with lightning. I suppose as long as you have the body's original form, you can regenerate quickly—but severed wounds are hard to heal, right? That's why you've been subtly avoiding them."
"..."
Isabella said nothing, not taking her eyes off Crodon for even a moment. To be precise, her gaze was focused on [Quarto].
'Such wariness toward the artifact. In that case───'
Mado
He summoned multiple clones, but this time he altered his usual tactics.
Instead of hiding behind them, he pushed his true body forward, using [Quarto] as a visible threat, while his rear clones began linking elemental magic for bombardment.
Fire, 6th-tier upper.
Lightning, 6th-tier upper.
Earth, 5th-tier upper.
Water, 5th-tier lower.
Wind, 5th-tier middle.
Having mastered as many as five elemental attributes, Crodon Olentia's rank was rare even among elemental Mages.
If he poured all his strength into it, the gap would only widen further.
The scattered remnants of earth magic all around suddenly exploded at once. The shrapnel pierced through the ice barrier and slammed against Isabella's robe.
"...!!"
A suppressed groan escaped through her clenched teeth.
Even if she continued regenerating through that bizarre, unknown process, she was still a living being—her speed would eventually slow, and her mana and mental strength were finite.
Seeing her stagger, Crodon's mind flashed.
Thud, boom!
In the chaos, a shard of stone shot upward at a sharp angle, piercing Isabella's knee.
In return, one of his clones' left arms froze solid and shattered.
"...Iza."
"Bella...!"
It hurt.
Yet it was exhilarating.
That pain he had long despised now felt strangely new—as if it brought him closer to Isabella.
"Isabella!!"
With her movement briefly restrained, Crodon forced his clones to collide fire and water magic, producing steam.
Then, manipulating the wind, he increased the steam's density until it liquefied. Toward this vapor, all five—including the original—cast
Pazzzzzzt!
Through [Lingering Regret of Havras], their magics linked. The multiplied chains ensnared Isabella.
Light flared at the center.
Amid thunderous roars, Crodon, staff in his right hand, began drawing a magic circle with his left arm and the remaining clones.
Several times faster than one caster alone could manage.
Circle of Omni-Ability
Whoooom!
A unique magic circle created by a transcendent being.
A three-dimensional pyramid sealed Isabella—space and all.
At once, the lightning chains inside solidified, retaining their electric properties while gaining physical force.
Tzzzzzzzzt───!
The lightning matter of heat and current coiled around Isabella's shoulders and thighs, burning and electrocuting her.
It scorched her outer robe and everything beneath it—all her flesh!
'If I burn the limbs and keep searing the stumps, regeneration becomes meaningless.'
Finally, realizing he had subdued and secured his "companion", Crodon couldn't suppress a smile… until Isabella, face twisted in pain, spoke firmly.
"Idiot."
"...."
Craaaash!
Suddenly, the thunderous pyramid shot upward and scattered in all directions. The Circle of Omni-Ability was broken.
Crodon blinked blankly—then an ice spike impaled him. The final gem of his bracelet dropped powerlessly.
How had she destroyed his master's magic circle so easily? Why target the real body instead of the clones? She'd been watching that artifact so closely…
Countless thoughts raced through his mind.
But instead of pondering, Crodon moved instinctively. With Isabella not interfering, this was the perfect moment.
Clack!
He clasped [Quarto] on his right wrist tightly with his empty left hand.
"Defend with magic."
Light burst through his fingers.
It was a rare incantation that explicitly used the word magic—an artifact that fused natural sorcery with artificial technology.
Numerous magical formulas surged forth, flooding Crodon with mana. A feeling of fullness spread through him.
This was only the beginning.
Crodon smiled.
"Isabella, let's stop. I'll even forgive your betrayal again. Let's just go back to the Bohemirn Magic Tower together───"
"I think you're misunderstanding something."
Isabella sneered.
"Do you think my magic can only affect other people's spells?"
"...What?"
"If that's what you assumed, then sorry—you're completely wrong. What I can control isn't that small in scope."
Mado of Corrosion.
Judgment of Dominion [Elderron].
Brilliant Eyes.
"It's the essence of all things themselves."
Crack.
A faint sound of fracturing echoed.
From within Crodon's own hand.
The magical formulas emanating from it tangled chaotically. The light from the bracelet flickered unstably.
"...Huh?"
Inside the bracelet, not from Crodon, the mana tumor that had been expanding under Isabella's gaze flashed.
BOOOOOOM!
[Quarto] exploded.
Hundreds of shards burst outward.
Ironically, his right wrist remained intact… but his left hand, which had been gripping it tightly, did not escape the disaster.
Shk!
Blood gushed from the empty wrist.
A wound as if torn off.
Crodon's pupils dilated to their limits as he clutched his left forearm.
"GAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"
Compared to his entire life until now, it was his most wretched scream.
And understandably so—this wasn't an injury transmitted through a clone, but the destruction of his true body.
A pain he had never experienced before.
Gasping raggedly, Crodon staggered backward.
An earthquake rumbled in his gaze.
"You… you seized another's artifact with magic? Nghh…! H-how could such an impossible thing…!"
"Took a long time, thanks to you."
Normally, artifacts cannot be easily destroyed. It's nearly impossible to tamper with them purely through magic.
That was why, in addition to using her Brilliant Eyes to discern its essence, Isabella had needed great effort to dominate its source with the Corrosion Magic empowered by [Elderron].
All to eliminate potential variables.
'If the head of the family were me, it would've been over far more easily…'
Though she followed Verden's teachings, Isabella was not Verden himself.
Her fighting style relied on regeneration—ignoring her own wounds as she and her foe exchanged relentless attacks until one could no longer stand.
Such desperate, brute-force combat was the way permitted to Isabella, who wielded her monstrous nature as a weapon.
Spit.
She spat out the blood pooled under her tongue.
The areas melted to the bone by the lightning chains began squirming—living tissue knitting itself back together.
"..."
Watching that sight, Crodon lowered his breathing quietly.
His expression cooled.
Even though he had invaded the Grand Hall with the Mage Division, he now stood alone, driven by obsession with Isabella. Deep down, though, was the certainty that he'd be safe unless he faced a transcendent—or something close.
Who could threaten him?
The next Bohemirn Tower Master?
At least within the Black Hour, unless it was the Dark Moon, there was no one worth considering.
Not arrogance—conviction.
And yet, Isabella's power surpassed any threat he had ever imagined.
'Don't tell me… this is the extreme of magic?'
The extreme could only be defined by oneself, so he couldn't be certain.
Meaningless to dwell on.
Aside from his master, the only one in Bohemirn capable of cornering him this far had been Angelo.
In other words, Isabella stood on a level comparable to Angelo.
"Ha."
At this point, Crodon's choices were limited. He dispelled his focus and cast
Without a shred of hesitation, he threw himself diagonally backward to the right—toward the sole entrance and exit, already half-collapsed from magical shock.
Crodon fled.
***
Where did it go wrong?
He'd followed his master's orders—clear the Grand Hall, occupy it, rescue Isabella from the hands of the Black Hour.
So why had it turned out like this? His mind couldn't grasp it.
'First, I'll bring in Saturation of Jinche. Then, I'll heal my lost limb with Rayshen's imitation elixir. The side effects—Master will take care of them. I can fix all of this…!!'
The shattered door, reduced to debris along with its frame, loomed closer. He lunged toward the gaping hole.
Just as his upper body crossed through, something grabbed him.
"Told you this would be your grave."
Isabella, who had somehow caught up, clutched his ankle with brutal force.
Crodon's face went pale.
Ever since he realized Isabella was on par with Angelo, his will to fight had evaporated. The thick veneer cracked, revealing the core within.
He had never learned at the Tower how the weak could resist and overcome the strong.
"Tilon...!"
Crodon screamed.
"Tilon Narger!!!"
He called for the Tower's highest elder and his direct guards, but no answer came back. A floating sensation seized every nerve of his body.
Kwaaaang!
He crashed to the ground in an arc, like a crescent moon slashing down. The heavy impact sent [Lingering Regret of Havras] flying from his right hand.
"Isabel───"
Crack!
A foot slammed across his face.
Blood sprayed far and wide, with shattered teeth scattered among the crimson droplets.
Crodon barely propped himself up with his remaining right hand. Sticky saliva and blood dripped from his mangled mouth.
"Puhk, haa, w-wait. Isabella, listen to me for a sec…!"
"Raise your head."
Isabella stomped down on his calf, crushing it flat.
"GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
His scream burst out as he reflexively straightened his back and lifted his head. Her clawed hand grabbed both sides of his temples.
Crrk, crkkk.
Each time the veins on the back of her hands bulged and throbbed, a dangerously sharp cracking sound came from within Crodon's skull.
"Kkgh, grrk."
"Gardener Carver died with a pruning shear stabbed through his throat. Head maid Marianne burned with the mansion, reduced to ash. The youngest, Kael, couldn't stand his family being threatened—he slit his own throat the moment he became a hostage. And your
Finally, finally—Isabella had succeeded in seizing the real Crodon. A fierce heat flooded her veins, like her blood itself was boiling.
Actual tears of blood flowed.
If she followed her heart, she'd make sure Crodon suffered a pain so deep he'd never forget it, even in death—far worse than what her family had endured.
But she wouldn't spend any more time here.
My revenge ends here.
Isabella pressed down on Crodon's jaw, forcing his mouth open.
Her fingers dug into his skin. The air instantly grew colder.
"Wait…! I have something to say…!!"
She didn't stop.
Desperation filled his voice as he forced out the words.
"Your little sister!!!"
"You—up to the very end…."
"She's alive!!! Your sister's alive!!!"
***
Isabella froze.
Her golden eyes widened in disbelief.
The strength left her hands—they stopped mid-motion.
"What did you just say, about Xenia?"
"Yeah, Xenia…!"
Crodon grasped her wrist, breathing shallowly. He sucked in air through his throat and forced his vocal cords to vibrate again.
"That day, when you drank [Blood of Resurrection] and turned into a monster…! You devastated everything and fled! When we came to clean up the site afterward…! Everyone else was there, but one body—one body was missing…!"
"..."
"It wasn't damaged beyond recognition—I swear! If it was, at least part of it would've been there! There was no way it was lost during recovery either! Isabella, think carefully—are you sure Xenia died?"
To Isabella, that day was pitch-black darkness. She remembered nothing of how she escaped the mansion—only the sticky sensation of the blood and madness.
But she remembered everyone's end vividly.
───Sister, run… away….
Xenia, struck by Crodon's counterattack, fell limp, her head drooping. Blood pooled beneath her abdomen where it touched the floor.
No reply came.
Without a priest nearby, resurrection was impossible.
And there had been no one—no one—to save Xenia. Naturally, Isabella had assumed she was dead.
"So, you're saying someone secretly took Xenia away from the scene?"
"Most likely! There's no way she escaped on her own…!"
Crodon forced his trembling voice to continue.
"S-still, I found traces…! Xenia had no value to the Tower, so I couldn't get official help, but I made progress alone! Just like I tracked you, Isabella, I've been tracking her…!"
"So where is she?"
"Only I know…! The clues—they're all in my head…! I swear it! You understand what that means, don't you…?"
He was claiming that if she killed him, Xenia's whereabouts would die with him. He was giving her a reason to keep him alive.
A lie?
Or the truth?
Isabella had no gift for discerning human deceit.
She needed Verden's help for that.
But the thought of sparing Crodon sickened her—it felt like surrendering control of her life again.
And then—
"Crodon Olentia, what a pitiful struggle for the next Bohemirn Tower Master."
Medrant stepped over the debris littering the entrance.
Crodon's eyes trembled.
"Tower Master of Ostea? Why… why are you here…?"
"Pardon me for intruding on your personal affair, Isabella Argyle. But it seemed you could use a bit of assistance."
Ignoring Crodon, Medrant faced Isabella. Then he raised both arms, showing his wrists beneath the robe.
Two bracelets.
Single-use Society magic items designed to discern truth from falsehood.
The first bracelet glowed red.
"The claim that your sister is alive—that's true. At least, we can interpret it as Crodon Olentia genuinely believing so."
The second bracelet flashed blue.
"But the claim that he found traces and is tracking her—that's false."
"Wha…."
Crodon's voice faltered.
He tried to argue, but it was too late.
He couldn't speak.
For Isabella was staring at him—wide-eyed, burning with fury.
"Isabella, you're not seriously trusting that unknown magic item, are you? The Academy—don't you remember those days? Huh?"
"If you don't know where Xenia is, then there's no reason to keep you alive."
Crack.
Her slender fingers hooked his upper and lower jaws like claws, forcing his mouth open wide.
"I told you."
Blood vessels bulged in her eyes.
"I'd tear that mouth apart."
"No… aaaaAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"
Krrrrrkkk───!
Vengeance came in an instant.
A human body was far too fragile—it tore apart effortlessly. So ended the life of the one she'd hated beyond measure.
Crodon's limp form tilted over, empty of thought.
Splatter.
Blood sprayed everywhere. The air escaping from his lungs hissed out, vanishing like the sound of a nightmare fading with dawn.
Crodon Olentia, first disciple of the Bohemirn Tower Master— was dead.
"Haa."
Since the age of twenty, the shadow that had haunted her life was finally gone. The relief of this moment was beyond anything she'd ever felt.
If only her family could take comfort in it too.
"Ahahaha."
Isabella laughed—her body nearly half-covered in blood.
'What a terrifying woman', Medrant thought.
Even as a Tower Master himself, he couldn't help but feel a chill as he removed the bracelets.
Then Isabella turned her back.
"Thank you, Sage of Protection. You were a great help. I'll repay this debt someday if I get the chance. But since you're here, it means you've already stopped Tilon and Saturation of Jinche, right? Shall we go now?"
"There's no need to repay me… but, are you sure you can move right away?"
"Yes."
Thinking of how Crodon had tried to deceive her even at the end reignited her killing urge—but along with it came something unexpected.
Hope.
The possibility that Xenia was still alive.
That alone filled Isabella with newfound vitality.
'Whoever took Xenia, wherever she is—it's fine.'
She could find her.
She would find her.
Unlike before, Isabella now had people she could rely on.
'But first, the all-out war must end.'
The battlefield of Sandir Paen.
The forces of the Grand Hall, their purpose achieved, began to move.
***
The elements conjured by the magic circle and the jet-black flames of annihilation canceled each other out. The continuing shockwaves caused quakes that split the earth apart.
Fwoooosh.
The Domain of Oblivion burned and absorbed everything combustible, expanding its reach— until it reached the feet of the transcendent being in the far distance. Yet even the flames of extinction couldn't touch that existence.
Second Collection [Lipraus]
The elegant robe worn by Balrog protected its owner completely from such magical domains.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwaaaang!
The anti-gravity magic circle floating in front of him struck the transcendent one head-on. The master of annihilation was forced back, distance widening again.
'It's definitely Wethroel.'
Everything Balrog had prepared for this scenario was working perfectly. There was no room for doubt.
All he had to do was follow the plan—stack decisive blows, seal resistance with hidden trump cards, and bring his foe to the brink of death.
'Then why…?'
The sense of wrongness he'd felt from the start only grew stronger. No matter how he looked, he saw only the traits of the Dark Moon.
So he hesitated to strike decisively.
A hesitation unbefitting Balrog Bessias.
By the time their magic had flattened an entire mountain near the Cliff of Eternity—
the transcendent finally spoke.
"Who are you?"
Balrog asked.
Purely on instinct.