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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Night]
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Chapter 38: The Will (7)
Fwoooosh!
The flames roared.
Fierce flames, as if they would devour the entire world, raged violently.
Gray ashes swirled around the blazing fire.
"What the...!"
Astaroth urgently invoked the Blessing of Distortion, watching the greedy flames approach.
A violet aura spread out like a spiderweb, consuming the space.
The distorted space became a massive shield that enveloped Astaroth.
And then—
Crash! Crack! Shatter!
The clash between the distorted space and the sword.
The sword, which had previously been helplessly deflected by the distorted space, began to push through the space itself with overwhelming power.
The more the power surged, the more ferociously the flames burned.
The sword, engulfed in flames, sliced through the distorted space.
"This is insane...!"
Without even time to exclaim, Dale's sword pierced through the split space like a beam of light.
Slash!
"Aaaaargh!"
An excruciating pain spread from the severed left arm.
Astaroth clutched the bleeding stump of his left arm and urgently retreated.
"Damn it!"
Astaroth, who had once been calm and collected, now spat out harsh curses.
He glared at Dale, who was engulfed in flames, with explosive fury.
"I'm so sick of this!"
He had expected some variables.
Plans never go exactly as intended.
'But this is ridiculous!'
Breaking through the Veil of Illusion, which had been conjured at the cost of 200 subordinates' lives, in an instant.
A mere candidate possessing power far beyond any professor.
After somehow killing him, he suddenly resurrects in no time.
'I thought he'd be out of mana by now, so he wouldn't be able to interfere this time.'
But now, out of nowhere, flames were erupting from his body, spewing mana in all directions?
'What kind of freak is this?'
Astaroth looked at Dale with an incredulous expression.
It was as if the entire world was conspiring against him.
"Ugh..."
As Astaroth held his severed arm, confused by the sudden situation—
"Hah."
Dale, too, looked down at his flame-covered body with a similarly bewildered expression.
'What is this?'
Even though he was engulfed in flames, there was no pain.
His clothes hadn't turned to ashes, nor had his skin been burned.
'Is this the Primordial Flame?'
If the flames engulfing his body were indeed the Primordial Flame...
Why was it now, after countless failed attempts, suddenly enveloping him and burning so fiercely?
'But that's not the issue right now.'
Pushing aside the questions in his mind, Dale turned his gaze towards Iris.
"D-Dale!"
Iris's eyes widened as she watched him engulfed in flames.
Dale strode over to her.
"How did this happen... Eek!"
He lightly smacked Iris on the head with his fist.
She clasped the spot with both hands, tears welling up in her eyes.
"W-What was that for?!"
"I told you earlier to stay put, didn't I?"
"But!"
"No buts."
Dale sighed deeply and stood protectively in front of Iris.
"Don't get involved this time. Stay here."
"...Okay."
Iris nodded with a sullen expression.
Dale turned his back on her and faced Astaroth.
Thud.
At that moment, Astaroth's severed left arm, lying on the ground, touched Dale's foot.
In Astaroth's left hand was a tool bent like a spoon.
'The tool he said he would use to gouge out Iris's eyes.'
Dale's heated mind cooled down instantly.
'If not for the Primordial Flame, Iris's eyes would have been gouged out by now.'
The flames surrounding his body spread to his heart.
Whoosh, whoosh.
The fire that spread within him turned into a massive fire demon, ready to devour the world.
"Astaroth."
Dale spoke to Astaroth, who was watching him warily.
"Earlier, you said we should see who is more loved by the gods, didn't you?"
According to the records, the Primordial Flame was a power created by the Demon God.
Well, the Demon God was still a god like the seven deities, wasn't it?
"Come on, don't just stand there. Let's finish what we started."
Boom!
Dale stomped the ground and spread the overflowing mana from the stigma throughout his body.
The mana surged through his veins, threatening to burst them.
For someone like Dale, who had suffered from chronic mana deficiency in both his past and present lives, it was a sensation he had never experienced before.
'I don't know why the Primordial Flame suddenly started moving, but...'
He had a rough idea of why his stigma was now overflowing with mana.
'They said the Primordial Flame creates mana as it burns the Tree of Creation.'
In other words,
The Primordial Flame has the ability to generate mana as it burns something.
'If that's the case, then what is the "something" that the Primordial Flame is currently burning...?'
Isn't it obvious?
Dale looked down at the flames engulfing his body and chuckled.
"I never thought I'd end up as firewood."
The Primordial Flame was burning his body to generate mana.
As proof, there was no gray ash swirling around the fierce flames—the kind of ash that usually appeared when the Blessing of Revival was active.
'If the Primordial Flame is using my life force as fuel to generate mana...'
In theory,
It means that as long as the Primordial Flame burns, it can generate nearly infinite mana.
"Hah."
A thrilling sense of omnipotence flowed down Dale's spine.
His body felt light as if he had shed the heavy shackles that had bound him.
He instinctively knew.
The techniques he had only been able to imitate until now,
Everything he had endlessly practiced in the white snowfields,
'Now...'
He could fully unleash them.
"I'm coming."
Rumble!
With a light step, the ground trembled as if an earthquake had struck.
The distance between them closed in an instant. Astaroth, who was retreating with wide-open eyes, found a fist flying towards him. It was a Berald’s Martial Art, Mountain Breaking.
Boom!
A deafening roar accompanied by a terrifying gust of wind swept through the surroundings.
“You... madman!”
Astaroth spat out a curse in disbelief, using the Blessing of Distortion.
For a moment, the distorted space blocked the gust of wind, but it was quickly penetrated.
Astaroth’s body was caught in the wind and flung backward.
"Ugh!"
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Coughing up blood, Astaroth fell to the ground.
"Huff, huff!"
Breathing heavily, he staggered to his feet.
Glancing at Iris in the distance, he bit his lip hard.
“...Damn it.”
The illusions and the Blessing of Distortion had both failed.
He had no means left to face this immortal monster.
‘I’ll give up on the Seven Eyes.’
Though uncertain when another opportunity to obtain the Seven Eyes might arise, he knew staying would only lead to a pointless death.
“Dale Han,”
Astaroth snarled, contorting his face with rage.
“I will remember your name. Mark my words.”
Snap.
With a snap of his remaining fingers, the purple veil surrounding them disappeared.
The cool night air rushed in, revealing the darkened sky above.
Astaroth turned to leave the school grounds when—
“Where do you think you're going?”
As Dale lightly stomped the ground, flames enveloped him and spread out, forming a barrier around them.
“Is this... a barrier?”
Astaroth stared at the wall of flames, his mouth agape.
No way.
Now he was even using barrier magic?
“Aren’t you a candidate for the Warrior Division?”
“Why? Is there a rule that says warriors can’t use magic?”
“...”
Astaroth fell silent, as if he couldn't even think of a retort.
“Not only do you have the Blessing of Immortality, but you’re skilled in swordsmanship, martial arts, and magic as well...?”
The sound of his teeth grinding in frustration echoed.
“Seriously, this is... bullshit.”
Astaroth muttered a rough curse, clutching his head in disbelief.
“Do you know no bounds?! How is this even possible?!”
Astaroth’s scream was close to a desperate cry.
It wasn’t hard to understand his frustration.
As the ‘Archbishop’ who ruled over thousands and tens of thousands of demons, the idea of being cornered like this by a mere candidate, not even a professor, must have been unthinkable.
In fact, considering the immense power an Archbishop wielded, even if all the professors of the school fought him together, they probably wouldn’t have been able to keep him from escaping.
‘But.’
So what?
“Earlier, you said that the kids from the orphanage had no reason to die other than being unlucky enough to be there today, right?”
I remembered hearing those words from beyond the veil when I first arrived at the scene searching for Astaroth.
“It’s the same for you.”
I raised my sword, a fierce grin tugging at my lips as I aimed it at Astaroth.
“You were just unlucky enough to meet me today.”
Isn’t that reason enough?
“W-wait! If you kill me...!”
Before Astaroth could finish his desperate plea, I channeled my overflowing mana into my sword.
Whoosh!
The flames surrounding me surged even higher, climbing up the blade of my sword.
Though I had wielded a sword countless times before, this was a new and unfamiliar sensation, sending a thrilling shiver through my body.
“Hah.”
A dry laugh escaped my lips as a brief conversation from my past life suddenly came to mind—a conversation I’d had with a close friend.
‘You know, Dale? They say that when you reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship, you can cut through the sky with just your sword, no mana required.’
‘You were wrong, Yuren.’
I gripped my sword tighter.
The feeling I couldn’t grasp when I was struggling with insufficient mana was now vividly clear.
It felt like wings had sprouted from my back, and all the things I couldn’t do before now played out clearly in my mind.
Sun Sword, Ninth Form, Twilight.
The flaming sword split the sky in two.
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