Report
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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Chapter 116
"……."
The man froze as if time itself had stopped. Moments later, bright red blood gushed from his mouth.
"Khuhhk."
But he wasn’t dead yet. His heart still beat, and his bloodshot eyes glistened with murderous intent.
Ian, wearing an impassive expression, watched him closely. He twisted the blade he held in his hand.
Grip—
He tried to pull it out, but the man clung tightly to the sword, resisting its removal.
Despite Ian tugging at the blade, the man stubbornly refused to release his hold, as if driven by some hidden motive.
Ian let out a scoff.
"Must be burning hot."
The man’s injuries were severe enough to disrupt his mana flow, yet he clung to the blade foolishly.
If a searing hot chunk of metal was embedded in your body, the rational response would be to remove it quickly. Holding onto it as he was doing defied logic.
Mana users might be tougher than ordinary people—they could survive falls from cliffs and endure harsh environments longer—but in the end, they were still flesh and blood.
The man’s attempt to suppress the blade’s heat with mana was barely effective. His palms and fingers began to cook against the searing metal.
Ssssss—!
"Doesn’t it hurt?"
A Battle Wraith may be a type of wraith in essence, but once anchored to a physical body, they were no different from humans. This meant they experienced pain just as keenly.
The Battle Wraith’s face contorted in agony.
"Khrrk…!"
Though he didn’t scream, a testament to his resilience, his flesh began to melt, fusing grotesquely with the blade.
The sight was grotesque enough to make anyone wince. Ian, however, didn’t grimace; instead, he smirked.
Was it a side effect of the Wigner Delta? Or was he simply pleased to have overpowered a Battle Wraith? Whatever the reason, Ian didn’t care.
Standing face to face with the Battle Wraith, Ian laughed lightly and asked again:
"Are you still attached to that body?"
"What… do you mean?"
"I’m saying there’s no hope left for you. Why not abandon it now?"
"Are you suggesting… I choose… annihilation?"
The man’s voice was faint, barely audible without straining to hear.
Looking at the dying Battle Wraith, Ian replied nonchalantly, "If that’s what you want, go ahead. But is there any need for that? There’s a perfectly appetizing body right in front of you."
The man let out a dry laugh.
"You insane bastard… Do you even know what you’re saying right now?"
As the man dribbled blood from his mouth, Ian nodded.
"Of course. If you can, go ahead and devour me."
"There is an unspoken law among Battle Wraith."
"You’ve got time to spare, huh? Shouldn’t you be focusing on something else right now?"
The man was dying—rapidly. Ian could have ended it all with a single thrust when he skewered him earlier.
But he hadn’t. He was deliberately giving the man time, and the Battle Wraith understood Ian’s obvious ploy.
Even so, the man, gasping for air, continued speaking despite Ian’s taunts.
"Never covet the bodies of the priests of the Pantheon, holy knights… or the flesh of the Red Spear Knights…!"
“That’s an obvious reason. Since opposing attributes are involved, there’s a high risk of being countered if you make a half-hearted attempt, right? If that so-called law keeps you from trying, I’ll respect it.”
Ian shrugged. If the opportunity he was offering was rejected, there was nothing more to say.
“What is it… that you want from me?”
The man coughed violently, the amount of blood he was spitting up steadily increasing.
“Consume me. That so-called law probably only applies to the weak, doesn’t it? If one side holds a clear advantage, there shouldn’t be any issue.”
The man could feel his strength draining. Time was running out.
If death was inevitable, whether he did or didn’t comply, he had no choice but to bet on the slim possibility of survival.
“Very well. If that’s what you want…”
“Very well! If that’s what you want!”
Two voices overlapped. One was faint, the man’s weak voice. The other was deep, resonant, and grotesque—the voice of the Battle Wraith’s true form.
Ssshhhkk!
A black energy began seeping out from the man’s body.
Ian immediately shoved the collapsing man away, and the black energy—the true form of the Battle Wraith—lunged toward him.
“Surrender your body to me!”
Watching it approach, Ian didn’t hesitate. He extended his left arm.
[Bane of Evil Sixth Form: Partial Deployment of Sacred Flame Armor]
Flames swirled and surged from his elbow, meticulously crafting a gauntlet that radiated searing heat.
Ian swung his arm upward, diagonally from below, and caught the black energy by the neck.
“Kyaaaahhh!”
The Battle Wraith’s true form thrashed violently, struggling to break free from Ian’s flaming grasp. But Ian had no intention of letting go.
“This should make our conversation easier, right?”
Within the black energy, a face began to emerge. The part Ian held corresponded to a human neck.
“So you provoked me just for this?”
“That’s right. Though it wasn’t just provocation—it was a gamble. I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be able to grab the Battle Wraith’s true form like this.”
“You insane bastard!”
“I hear that often. Anyway, let’s have a little chat, shall we?”
“Do you think I’ll just answer your questions?”
“You won’t want to, but you’ll have to.”
“Say what you want. I won’t give you any answers.”
“That’s inconvenient. Are you sure about that?”
……
When dealing with humans, there were countless ways to break their will. The simplest method was to establish an intimidating atmosphere, then resort to threats or violence. Most would eventually cave to fear and provide the answers sought. Alternatively, bribery worked just as well.
But what if the target was a spirit? And not just any spirit, but a Battle Wraith—a dangerous specter among wraiths?
While there were methods to deal with them, their pride often led them to choose obliteration rather than submission.
Ian briefly considered trying to persuade it but dismissed the idea as ridiculous. Instead, he decided to cut straight to the point.
“Eclipse.”
……!
The Battle Wraith flared violently, clearly startled.
“Such an honest reaction.”
“How… How do you know that name?”
“I know quite a bit. It’s a name that will come to light soon enough—no need to act so surprised.”
"Did you hear that from Mari?"
“Who knows? Think whatever you like. But let me propose something here.”
"What…?"
“If you answer my questions properly, I’ll let you die like a warrior. Choose—will you vanish cleanly, or will you suffer a miserable, agonizing end?”
“…And what guarantee do I have that you’ll keep that promise?”
“I don’t go back on my word.”
“…What do you want to know?”
“You specters who used to skulk around the defense line—what brought you across it into the heart of this territory?”
“A simple question. We came to strip away the arrogance of that so-called Absolute Defense Line you’ve built. No matter how strong the shell might seem, is the inside just as solid?”
“Undermining from within…? That doesn’t seem like your way of doing things. It’s more of the Dark Mages’ style. Did you join hands with them?”
“That, I don’t know. Even if you ask me, I can’t give you an answer.”
Ian nodded. The presence of a Battle Wraith here already told him plenty.
“…Alright. Next question. How did you cross the defense line? It shouldn’t have been that easy.”
The El Carda Empire didn’t call its fortifications the Absolute Defense Line simply because it had a few fortresses lined up.
The line was bolstered by layers of surveillance networks centered around the fortresses and was thoroughly prepared for any possible intrusion. Independent units like the Rangers added to its formidable defense.
While gaps would eventually form as time went on, Ian knew that for now, the defense line should still be robust. That’s why even Dark Mages trying to infiltrate the empire typically avoided direct crossings.
‘Unless I’m missing something.’
Ian knew his understanding wasn’t perfect. Though he had returned to this time, there was far more he didn’t know than he did. A little knowledge could be a dangerous thing.
Absolute, eternal, immutable perfection didn’t exist. There had to be a breach somewhere in the line.
The Battle Wraith grinned.
“We had help. But I can’t tell you more than that.”
“This is my last question.”
“Oh? I’m sure you have more to ask.”
“You seem eager to talk now. Why not just spill everything?”
“Didn’t you say you don’t go back on your word?”
“…How many of you crossed over?”
The Battle Wraith chuckled as if it had regained its composure.
“Too many to count!”
Realizing it wouldn’t provide any more useful answers, Ian drew upon his mana.
Fwoooosh!
Ferocious flames erupted from his grasp, engulfing the Battle Wraith entirely.
It thrashed and writhed, struggling to escape, but Ian held firm until it was utterly consumed.
“Don’t think this is the end!”
“How clichéd.”
“I am but a part of the greater plan! Soon, the god shall cross that sea of darkness and…”
Ian didn’t let it finish. The fire’s intensity surged, melting away the Battle Wraith’s form as a shockwave rippled outward.
The black energy dissipated, mingling with the flames until it faded completely. Looking up, Ian saw that the dark cage encircling the village was also gone.
It was over.
As he extinguished the lingering flames around him, soldiers and two priests emerged from where they had been watching silently.
There were no cheers. The scene was too devastating for celebration.
Too many had died, bleeding out where they fell, and the village itself was left in ruins.
Ian turned to approach the priests when a thought struck him—the body the Battle Wraith had possessed.
The flames Ian had conjured earlier had reduced the possessed body to ashes, but amidst the remnants, something glinted.
He picked it up and turned toward the approaching priest.
“Thank you, Inquisitor, for saving us. Thanks to you, we survived. I am Deon, a priest serving under the Temple of the All-God Nerdial. Please forgive me for the delayed introduction.”
Formal pleasantries followed—acknowledgments of gratitude, mentions of having heard of Ian, and expressions of honor at meeting him. But it was clear these were surface-level courtesies.
Deon looked like he had many questions, likely spurred by witnessing Ian’s earlier exchange with the Battle Wraith. Ian, too, had his doubts. For a team sent by the Temple, the soldiers' quality was too low, and their numbers were insufficient.
Deon broke the formalities. “Ideally, I’d like to move elsewhere to talk. But for now, could you wait a moment? I need to handle this situation first.”
Ian nodded. The priest immediately began organizing the somber soldiers, their spirits visibly crushed.
“Bring an empty cart. We cannot leave the dead like this.”
At his command, the soldiers stirred into action.
Soft sobs broke the silence. No one chided the young man shedding tears; instead, they silently loaded the bodies onto the cart and moved them beyond the village.
Ian lent a hand as well. The soldier who had guarded the village entrance lay dead, a whistle still clutched in his lifeless fingers. A pang of regret hit Ian.
“Excuse me, Inquisitor. May I ask for one final favor?”
“Go ahead.”
“Would you grant them Berger’s Flame?”
It was a request for cremation.
Ian nodded. Under the somber gazes of all present, he summoned fire once more.
The intense heat quickly filled the air as the flames obeyed Ian’s gestures, spreading out to envelop the bodies of the fallen.
The fire burned for a long time. As the soldiers stood silently watching, Ian turned to follow Deon to a more private location.
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HELHEIM SCANS
[Translator - Kiteretsu]
[Proofreader - Kyros]
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