WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
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◈ Whispers of a Scheming Demon ◈
Chapter 69: Capital Assault (3)
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The enormous saw blade descended over Mapheltan’s head.
Mapheltan did not move. He merely watched the approaching blade with a calm expression.
A trace of doubt passed over Azbal’s face.
The moment he sensed something strange, blue Mana unfolded around Ilea.
A biting chill swallowed the surroundings.
Azbal froze in an instant as he fell.
He looked like a statue made of ice.
It was beautiful, but the work of art soon broke apart.
Starting from the cracks along its surface, the statue shattered with a Crash!
Fragments of ice scattered through the night sky.
The enormous bird swooped down and snatched Azbal away.
Keeping his distance from Ilea, Azbal spoke.
“Are ya a Mage?”
He seemed slightly surprised, but he still wore a relaxed smile.
He simply had a naturally smiling face.
Ilea replied.
“Something like that.”
“Did ya open that spatial transference gate too?”
“That’s right.”
“What’s your name? Feels like I’ve heard it before.”
Most highly skilled Mages had been reported to the Great Saint Church.
The act of using magic itself was a crime, and a skilled Mage was a disaster simply by existing.
If a great Mage set their mind to it, they could turn an entire city to dust.
The Great Saint Church always remained on guard against them.
Ilea said,
“That’s a difficult question.”
Azbal’s narrow eyes swept over Ilea.
She wore both a black hood and a face covering, making it difficult to identify her by sight.
She had likely altered her voice as well.
Mages were that meticulous.
Azbal scratched at his hood.
“Well, this is something. I bragged that I’d figure out who was behind this.”
Confirming that White Horn was behind this incident was already a major achievement.
Still, he somehow felt that it was not enough.
Ilea lightly tapped Mapheltan and spoke in a quiet voice.
“...I’m at my limit now.”
Her Mana was completely depleted. The spatial transfer formula would soon close as well.
They had to leave the royal capital.
Mapheltan nodded.
“You have done well. This is enough.”
The countless fears on the ground had accumulated as nourishment, and he had also gained a deed of evil called the assault on the royal capital.
By attacking the royal capital, he would also disperse some of the attention focused on the south.
The results were quite substantial.
The Dark Elf spoke.
“Are you leaving?”
“It is about time.”
“Do not forget the contract.”
“How could I? My life depends on it.”
As Mapheltan turned away, Azbal opened his mouth.
“You can’t go. We have to see this through.”
Mapheltan looked at him and gave a short laugh.
“We will have another chance to meet. Keep this with you.”
A pitch-black fairy rose from Mapheltan’s hand and flew toward Azbal.
“What’s this?”
“A means to talk with me.”
“I told ya before. I don’t do that with demons.”
The instant he finished speaking, Azbal kicked off from the bird and flew forward.
He raised Vizard upright in midair.
The enormous saw blade reflected the moonlight with a cold blue gleam.
The Dark Elf immediately leaped forward as well. A pitch-black dagger was clenched in each hand.
Azbal swung down the saw blade.
The Dark Elf crossed their daggers to meet it.
The blades collided.
Holy Power and Demonic Energy clashed.
A massive shockwave spread in every direction. The hem of Ilea’s hood whipped wildly in the wind.
A sharp bursting sound rang through the night sky.
Azbal put strength into his arm as he spoke.
“This is really annoying. Lackey, get lost.”
The Dark Elf shouted desperately.
“Leave quickly! I cannot hold on for long!”
The saw blade was steadily chewing through the daggers.
The Dark Elf’s body was gradually forced downward.
Mapheltan spoke in a low voice.
“I will keep my promise.”
Then, together with Ilea, he slowly vanished into the spatial transfer formula.
Until the very end, he acted as though he were completely at ease.
As long as he had to live as an Apostle, he had to act like one.
Once Mapheltan and Ilea left, the formation immediately lost its light.
The night sky was once again dyed in darkness.
The Dark Elf fell toward the ground.
A trail of pure white light followed behind them like a tail.
The Dark Elf’s body was burning away under Holy Power.
Standing atop the enormous bird, Azbal quietly looked at the remnants of the formation.
“...They got away.”
The pitch-black fairy landed on his shoulder.
Azbal considered it briefly before grabbing the fairy tightly.
“No talking with demons. Next time we meet, you get cut in half.”
He flicked the fairy on the forehead.
A dull sound burst out.
The fairy’s body exploded and scattered into pitch-black smoke.
* * *
In Death Gorge, Raguel, now alone, looked around as though savoring every sight.
His eyes shone with life.
The simple fact that light entered his eyes and objects formed on his retinas filled Raguel with excitement.
The act of seeing itself made him happy.
He would no longer have to live as a blind man.
He was no longer lame, either.
Strength surged through his entire body. His new body filled him with joy.
Raguel began to run.
He did not stop until he was gasping for breath.
He ran until exhaustion made him collapse.
The moment he fell facedown on the ground, tears streamed from his eyes.
“...Thank you.”
Johan had truly kept his promise. He had brought light into a life that had known only darkness.
It had been a transaction in which they exchanged a price, but Raguel was grateful simply to have been given this chance.
God had ignored his prayers, but Johan had answered them.
The Great Saint had already been erased from the boy’s heart.
Johan had taken that place.
Johan had given him a reason to live, so the path Johan showed him would now become Raguel’s life.
Raguel steeled himself.
Just as he tried to wipe away his tears, a familiar voice came from behind him.
“I wondered where you had gone. You were here alone, putting on a melodrama.”
Raguel immediately turned around.
Mapheltan approached with a short laugh.
“M-Mapheltan!”
Zalkarin sprang out from Mapheltan’s arms.
“Tsk! The End’s left arm is getting all sentimental.”
Zalkarin’s appearance had changed greatly.
The small ball of fur had become a little demon with a clearly separated upper and lower body.
Its red fur had changed into small flickering flames, and its once round body had grown fairly long.
It had grown quite a bit too. It was now about as large as an adult man’s forearm.
Raguel spoke with a startled expression.
“Zalkarin?”
Zalkarin wore an arrogant expression.
“What do you think, kid? Do I still look insignificant?”
Honestly, Zalkarin still did not look threatening.
“Yeah, you do. But you have grown a little.”
Scarlet flames surged from Zalkarin’s mouth.
“Even now? Even now?”
Ilea sighed and removed her hood.
Ignoring Zalkarin, she spoke.
“You have changed so much too, young master.”
Raguel was almost like a different person.
His skin was so pale that it seemed transparent, while golden light scattered from his hair.
His eyes shone with a clear jade color.
Mapheltan’s mark was engraved in his left eye.
Raguel’s eyes widened.
“I-Ilea?”
He froze like a statue.
Ilea tilted her head.
“Yes, it is Ilea. What is wrong?”
He had seen her once or twice before losing his sight, but he had never known she was this beautiful.
Ilea looked like a sculpture made by a god.
She inspired awe.
Because of a High Elf’s unique sense of beauty and sharp eyesight, Raguel could now judge things more objectively.
Ilea was clearly a different species from humans.
“I was a little surprised. You look like a doll.”
Ilea smiled softly with her eyes.
“Young master, you say such things so casually. Still, thank you.”
Raguel turned toward Mapheltan.
“Mapheltan is... still a little frightening.”
Mapheltan clicked his tongue.
“For a demon, I look fairly decent.”
He looked vicious, perhaps, but he was not grotesque or repulsive.
Raguel gave an awkward smile.
“I-Is that so? Thinking about the demons in the mausoleum, I suppose you are right.”
They had truly been hideous beyond measure.
Mapheltan studied Raguel closely.
“My face is one thing. You are the problem, Raguel.”
Ilea nodded.
“It is definitely a serious problem.”
Tension appeared on Raguel’s face.
“Is it... that bad?”
Mapheltan said,
“You have changed too much. Your skin was pale before, so that is one thing, but your eyes and hair are completely different.”
It was a more serious matter than expected.
Every servant in the lord’s castle who knew Raguel would find it strange.
Ilea opened her mouth.
“For the time being, you can wear an eyepatch and dye your hair, but that is only a temporary measure.”
Mapheltan let out a low hum.
“We will need a permanent solution.”
“Let us think about it slowly. I will give it some thought too.”
“Very well.”
Ilea approached Raguel.
“Young master, please excuse me for a moment.”
She placed her palm atop Raguel’s head.
At the same time, dark blue Mana wrapped around him.
His hair began to turn a dull brown.
Raguel regained at least a little of his former appearance.
Mapheltan said,
“It seems you have recovered your Mana already.”
“My Familiar is nearby.”
Mages borrowed Demonic Energy from demons and converted it into Mana, while Witches automatically received Demonic Energy through their Familiars.
“The World Tree?”
Ilea smiled.
“So you knew after all.”
She had not told him. He had already known through the original work.
“Yes, something like that. Go on. You have business with the World Tree, do you not?”
Ilea stared intently at Mapheltan.
After a brief silence, she spoke.
“I have made up my mind.”
“About what?”
“I will tell you when I return.”
Mapheltan slightly frowned.
“What are you talking about out of nowhere...?”
“Please wait just a moment.”
She immediately headed toward the World Tree.
* * *
A great deal of time passed.
The sun would soon rise, but Ilea had not returned yet.
Mapheltan wanted to return to the territory before sunrise if possible.
Just as he began to grow impatient, he saw Ilea walking toward him in the distance.
For some reason, her steps seemed a little lighter.
A deep smile rested on her lips.
Ilea arrived before Mapheltan and spoke.
“There is something I want to tell you.”
Her mood was different from usual, making Mapheltan feel a little tense.
“If it is not important, why not discuss it after we return?”
Ilea shook her head.
“It is something we must discuss now.”
Mapheltan clicked his tongue.
“Then stop drawing it out and say it. The sun will rise soon.”
Ilea’s expression turned serious.
“I have been thinking about how a Thirteenth Apostle could exist.”
“And?”
“If the gods of the Twelve Forgotten Races are the twelve Apostles, then the Thirteenth Apostle may also be the god of some race.”
Mapheltan’s expression grew calm as well.
“...What are you trying to say?”
“You have probably already guessed.”
He had a rough idea.
Still, he had never voiced it even once.
He knew the unwritten rule of the Witch race well.
Mapheltan spoke.
“Witches do not believe in gods.”
Ilea smiled softly with her eyes.
Then she suddenly knelt on one knee.
Confusion appeared on Mapheltan’s face.
“Then shall I begin believing now?”
“What are you suddenly...?”
Ilea spoke in a serious voice.
“Please consume my Familiar, Mapheltan. O Thirteenth End.”
She was telling him to absorb the World Tree.
Mapheltan was deeply startled.
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