Chapter 391 - Blind Faith
True to the name of a great city, Gargant's actual scale was the greatest across the entire continent.
Moreover, as it harbored countless factions, it stood at the very forefront of global development.
That the central forces of the current magical world had extended their reach here was only natural.
Among them, excluding the "No. 1-ranked Magic Tower" and "DarkWarton", each magic tower wielded its influence within Gargant.
Of course, the Bohemirn Magic Tower was no exception.
Though the war against Black Hour had recalled its forces scattered across the continent back to headquarters, Gargant was never left unattended.
"Haa, as expected of the Dragon's Spine, it sure drew a massive crowd. Forget everything else, just how many Reachers of Mado gathered in that theater? I couldn't even breathe properly for fear of being noticed."
Inside one of the safehouses prepared by the Bohemirn Magic Tower, Rayshen sprawled on a sofa, idly grumbling about everything.
His direct escorts, Sarokan and Barkent, stood silently, guarding his back.
"..."
Across from him sat Rovellin, quietly folding her arms.
Her closest aides, Arril and Hezen, kept to her side with tense expressions.
Rayshen muttered.
"By the way, how should we select the participants for the labyrinth? With tiers and Mado sealed, sending capable ones recklessly would bring enormous losses… but sending mediocre ones won't satisfy me either. No, how on earth did they even prepare such a labyrinth? Is this what it means to be a Transcendent?"
He had never even heard of a labyrinth capable of accommodating as many as 400 people, let alone one that restricted the strength of every participant in real time—such things lay far outside the realm of common sense.
And that wasn't the only thing.
The Scales of Ignacia.
Its timing was irregular, it always showcased astonishing prizes, and it was conducted in an extraordinary fashion each time within Gargant's auctions.
It was the exclusive domain and eerie pastime of the Transcendent, Ignacia—something all those in the know were well aware of.
Then, Rayshen rolled his green eyes.
"They said a single organization can't monopolize the participant slots, so at most we can send, what, 7 or 8? Then let's pick about five at the branch, with 3rd-tiers and 4th-tiers. Rovellin, how about those two on your side? I'd say they're quite suitable as candidates."
Suddenly singled out, Arril and Hezen flinched, though it was within their expectations.
Both were upper 4th-tier Mages, seasoned with combat experience, more than capable of enduring the survival game within the cramped labyrinth compared to others.
Rovellin, who oversaw their deployment, narrowed her eyes.
"As candidates, they're not bad, but surely the tower master instructed us to 'cooperate' in acquiring the dragon's remains… You don't mean to send only my subordinates into the labyrinth, do you?"
"Come on, as if I would. You know as well as I do what Master truly wants—the dragon's remnants, not some foray into this so-called Labyrinth of Ants. I'll be moving separately, so don't worry about it."
He smirked.
"You just need to follow my orders."
Ultimately, the final authority rested with Rayshen Tailroad.
Rovellin, as the fourth disciple of the tower master, held a voice in decisions, but that was all.
With a small sigh, she nodded.
"Understood. As you say, I'll send Arril and Hezen to the Scales of Ignacia. But in exchange, I myself will participate in the labyrinth."
"L-Lady Rovellin?"
"For nearly two years, I've accumulated experience on the Black Hour front, and I possess an innate special trait. In a situation where tiers and Mado are sealed, few participants could match me. Compared to any other faction."
Despite Arril's dissuasion, Rovellin continued, unwilling to bend.
"Hm, that's true. Though all Mages entering the labyrinth are fixed to start at 2nd-tier, by the rules special traits are unaffected. Even so, sending the tower master's fourth disciple into a deathtrap weighs on me a bit as your senior."
"Cut the chatter and just give the order."
A cold current flowed.
Though openly defiant, Rayshen didn't reprimand her, instead brushing it off with a light chuckle.
Whether she addressed him formally or coldly, within the tower hierarchy their difference in rank wasn't large, so it was tolerable.
And.
'Good, no need to persuade her.'
Judging by the conditions of entry revealed that very day, Rovellin was the most suitable participant.
Balancing the tower's gains and losses, leaving her out of the labyrinth would have been wasteful.
The only issue had been her own intent…
But with her declaring she'd follow her subordinates in, there was no denying her.
'She really does care for the comrades she fought alongside, it seems.'
Was it camaraderie? Or responsibility?
Whatever it was, to Rayshen it felt laughable.
To a true Mage, such things were nothing more than impurities.
"Fine, since that's what you want, I can hardly refuse. The Labyrinth of Ants is yours to manage."
Rovellin nodded.
Without further courtesy, she left the safehouse with Arril and Hezen.
The sound of three sets of footsteps receded into the distance.
Staring at the door for a moment, Rayshen twisted his lips.
"Well, I said that, but we'll still need to make sure she properly entered the labyrinth, won't we?"
Rayshen always remained wary of any factors beyond his control.
It was an ailment bordering on obsession.
Whoooong—
He activated the ring on his right hand.
The irregularly flickering light of magic power formed a "short code".
At once, the paired ring transmitted a simple signal to his direct escort, Shedger.
***
After the opening ceremony, Gargant was enveloped in the dim of dawn. In three to four hours, the plaza would fill with the 400 designated participants.
With little time remaining,
Adrian, concealed in darkness by the robe-type artifact [Shadow Spider], reported to Verden.
"We've confirmed the existence of that 'Shedger' you mentioned. A faint trace detectable only by focused senses, keeping a steady distance while persistently tailing and watching Rovellin—no doubt about it."
The awaited moment had come.
Verden's blue eyes filled with magic power.
'Once Shedger unleashes his Mado at full force, he'll vanish from sight and senses in an instant.'
If that happened, even Rayshen Tailroad would become aware.
To prevent disaster, their first priority was to cut off his means of communication, then suppress him alive.
Shedger's left hand was adorned with various accessories, but those were mere distractions.
His true equipment—especially the rare magical item called [Resonance]—was hidden, worn on his right hand.
'Therefore…'
Verden summoned Orient.
Among them, the swordsman who possessed the greatest stealth and overwhelming mobility received his order.
"Sever his right arm."
Adrian smiled beneath his metal mask.
"Leave it to me, my lord."
***
Shedger.
Once, he had been a heinous 5th-tier mid-rank Magus, infamous for assassinations and slaughters of nobles in the Central Continent, until he was eventually captured and supposedly subjugated by the Bohemirn Magic Tower… or so the common tale went.
In truth, he had become Rayshen's test subject, transformed into an almost perfect servant.
For Rayshen's sake, he would gladly gouge out his own eyes, even chew off his own fingers.
His mind held only a single track—moving solely under Rayshen's command.
Beyond simple phrases, his linguistic ability was gone.
He was, in every sense, an artificial loyalist.
Even without Balrog's forced magic circle, Coercion, betrayal was unthinkable.
Rayshen was certain of that.
'Rovellin. Labyrinth. Entry confirmed.'
The code, sent earlier through [Resonance], remained etched in Shedger's mind.
The reason for the order? Such things were meaningless.
His sole duty in life was to obey.
"..."
In the distance, within his perception range, the presence of Rovellin's party stirred.
Following their route, Shedger cut across the dawn of the great city.
Over the countless buildings, a chilling spring wind blew.
It was a natural current, no different from usual, stirring no particular feeling.
In that instant,the airflow suddenly twisted.
Startled, Shedger immediately turned his gaze, but it was already too late to respond.
With the pure physical reflexes of a Magus whose body had not been tempered, the gap in perception was impossible to bridge.
The price, inevitable.
"…?!!"
Adrian's demonic sword flashed past like a bolt of lightning, severing Shedger's right arm cleanly below the elbow, robe and all.
Along with a fountain of blood, his right hand floated into the air.
Only after being struck did Shedger realize he had been ambushed, his eyes flying wide open.
'How.'
He had been maintaining the Mado
Detecting him should have been impossible unless one already knew of his presence.
Though incomprehensible, he did not scream or show signs of losing reason.
Because, due to countless human experiments, his sense of pain was almost nonexistent.
Huuk.
Shedger steadied his disrupted magic power and controlled his falling body with
Instinctively, having lost the means of communication once held in his right hand, he sought another way to report the anomaly to Rayshen.
'Escape. Necessary.'
Yes, he needed to get out of here quickly.
In that instant of decision, Shedger focused, trying to cloud the senses of his assailants with Mado.
But it was a meaningless struggle.
───!
Cain burst from the darkness, flashing the demonic sword, Cretima.
Kuung! Kwajijik!
In the blink of an eye, the hilt smashed into Shedger's solar plexus, crushing it, then spun to slam the sword's back into his shoulder.
"Keuk."
Shedger's vision went dark, his body plummeting toward the ground. He crashed into an empty back alley of Gargant, tumbling harshly across the ground.
Though he barely regained his senses to stop himself, the real blow came after.
"A first-time combination, but not bad at all."
"…!"
The moment Shedger turned his head toward the voice behind him, Verden swung Orient at his waist.
Ujijik!
His organs and spine twisted together.
An artifact it was not, just a robe, and such a thing could never withstand a focused strike of magic power delivered with the Demon King's technique.
Shedger spat blood and collapsed forward onto his knees.
Verden grabbed his hair and slammed his head into the pavement.
Jjeoeoong!
From head to toe, an internal shockwave roared through him.
Forget the pain, the sheer force of it surpassed what a mere Magus's body could withstand.
"Kkeuk, kkeuruk…!"
Bururur, tuk,
Shedger's twitching hand fell limp.
The power had been moderated, so though his eyes rolled back and foam frothed at his mouth, he still clung to life.
'Perfect.'
Verden smiled.
The hunt was a success.
***
Within Gargant, the Society maintained multiple safehouses.
Each was a place near impossible to detect from the outside, and as their ally, the Society had provided Verden whichever safehouse he desired.
A deep underground chamber, lit by a magic stone lamp on the ceiling.
At its center, in a chair, Shedger sat completely subdued.
As a precaution, they had bound his entire body.
'But I have no intent to interrogate him.'
Indeed, had only the forced magic circle, Coercion, been inscribed, Verden could have used the confidential knowledge he held of the Bohemirn Magic Tower to deceive him into serving their side.
But Shedger was the product of human experimentation.
Physically, no longer a normal human, persuasion was impossible.
The only thing he possessed was loyalty to Rayshen.
Verden's gaze shifted slightly.
Cain, visibly tense, glared at Shedger.
Verden had yet to share information about Coercion or the experiments with the Society. Naturally, Adrian's identity was kept hidden as well.
The reason was simple—it was far too difficult to prove with words alone. Even if he asked them to trust him blindly, they would hardly believe it.
'The experiments, I could explain… but the problem is Coercion.'
The forced magic circle's effects were so far beyond imagination, there was no way around it.
Thus, Verden intended to provide information gradually, subtly.
As an organization opposed to the magic tower system, the Society would surely crave the secrets the Bohemirn Magic Tower had buried so deeply.
'I must use this to secure their continued cooperation as much as possible.'
So that even if, someday, after keeping all their promises, they parted ways, the achievements left behind would not feel lacking.
Of course, that was only if it came to that.
From Verden's perspective, so long as their directions aligned, he had no intention of letting go of the hand clasped with the Society.
"My lord, as instructed, I've laid out all the items he carried."
Various magical items lay atop the metal table.
Adrian had neatly arranged them, making them easy to see. Looking them over, Verden nodded with satisfaction.
"As expected, he had all the things I had in mind. With this, there will be no hindrance to the plan."
"Um, senior, could you tell us what that plan is? You told us to think on it, but… I still don't quite get it."
"It isn't all that complicated."
As Verden opened the Mado
The [Circlet of Projection], obtained from Tersau, the secret treasury of the Republic of Beldirn.
Ever since acquiring that magical item capable of controlling
Before long, a new
The foundation was already similar, and any mismatches could be corrected immediately.
On one side lay all the items Shedger had carried, and in Verden's memory were etched his every detail.
"My intent is to use this
Into the sockets where Rayshen's loyalist's eyes had been gouged, a new set would be fitted.
A bait, a scheme to lure him perfectly into the trap. It was one of the three reasons they had targeted Shedger.
'This is insanely complicated.'
Cain muttered inwardly.
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