Episode 81

We brought Hector, the dwarf hero disciple, and Charon back to the cabin. However, I couldn’t immediately learn about their situation. All three were utterly exhausted and collapsed as soon as they arrived.

“Charon doesn’t seem to have fainted from fatigue, though,” someone remarked.

“Do I look like I care?” I replied.

Though our condition was better than theirs, we couldn’t afford to let our guard down. We decided to keep watch, taking turns throughout the night. And so, the first night of the special trial—though perhaps it no longer deserved that name—passed.

The next morning, I stepped outside for fresh air and glanced at the sky, tilting my head in confusion.

“Is it morning? It’s hard to tell with the forest so dark,” Mir said, echoing my thoughts.

The dense canopy always made the forest dim, but today it felt unnaturally darker. My sensitivity to the sun’s presence made it clear something was off.

Has the sun not risen yet?

I pulled out the hourglass. A third of the sand had drained away, indicating that a full day had elapsed. Given that the trial started in the morning, the sun should have risen by now.

I hope it’s just my imagination.

However, clinging to such hope felt like delusion, especially after encountering demons.

I needed to verify the situation, so I returned to the cabin with Mir and found the hero disciples huddled together in the cramped space.

“It’s suffocating in here,” someone muttered.

The lack of windows made the air stifling. If it were summer, they would have overheated in there.

I turned to Hector first. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better. And you?” he asked.

“Me?”

“Your palm was pierced yesterday, and you were covered in burn marks,” Hector pointed out.

His eyes were sharper than I’d expected. He had looked on the verge of collapse, but he had likely witnessed my entire fight with Charon.

“I’m fine. I’ll recover fully by tomorrow,” I replied.

“I see…”

Next, I addressed the dwarf hero disciple, “And you? Are you alright?”

“Ah, yes. I’m fine.”

“What’s your name again?” I asked.

“I am Basil Jules.”

“Right.” Evan had mentioned it before, but I had forgotten.

Basil muttered with a downcast expression, “Evan and Charles filled me in on what’s happened. I didn’t think Pam was dead… If that’s the case, we shouldn’t hold out much hope for Tenma.”

At times like these, words of comfort felt hollow, so I stayed silent.

Finally, I turned to Charon. Yesterday, his face had been too swollen to recognize, but now the swelling had subsided significantly.

He’s remarkably resilient, I thought.

Perhaps he’d enjoyed as many luxuries as Hector.

“By the way, what happened to the rest of your group?” I asked.

“We decided to split up,” Charon replied.

“I see.”

It was insane to separate in such a dangerous place, but unsurprising coming from him.

“Were you all scrambling for points? Did you buy potions using Zeros’ blessing?”

Charon silently confirmed it.

I felt an even greater urge to hit him, but before I acted on that impulse, I cleared my throat and asked, “Before we get into that, does anyone know anything about the Dark Church?”

Of the seven present, only Hector raised his hand.

“Then let me ask you something,” I continued.

“What is it?”

“Is there any connection between the Dark Church’s rituals and a solar eclipse?”

Hector’s expression hardened. “Is a solar eclipse happening right now?”

“Possibly.”

“This isn’t a trivial matter. Answer me clearly.”

I nodded. “The sun has been consumed by shadows.”

Everyone turned to Hector, whose stiff face had turned as pale as a corpse.

“Hector?” I pressed. “Do you understand what’s happening?”

“According to the literature, a solar eclipse that occurs without warning in a specific area signifies only one event,” he answered.

His next words confirmed my fears. “It’s a Demon King’s Summoning Ritual.”

It seemed the Dark Church’s lunatics were attempting to summon a demon king into the Badnikers’ territory.

Naturally, the hero disciples were astonished at first. They had nearly collapsed upon seeing the demon, and now, hearing the words “demon king,” it felt as if they had lost all sense of reality.

“A-are you joking? A Demon King’s Summoning Ritual?” Basil stammered, his voice trembling.

“This is the Badnikers’ territory, not some remote wasteland. It can’t happen here, right?” Charles chimed in.

“Of course, it won’t be a full summoning,” Hector interjected, his voice calm but firm. “They don’t have the time or the sacrifices for that.”

Despite being a dwarf, Basil seemed unusually timid. His face turned pale at Hector’s words. “S-sacrifices…”

Hector nodded gravely. “It’s only a part of the demon king’s body that will manifest here.”

“T-that’s a good thing, then,” Basil said, though his voice wavered.

“A good thing?” Hector smiled weakly. “Do you remember the city of Philpia, which was devastated in twenty-seven minutes twenty years ago? Even now, the land remains corrupted by miasma, and the priests have given up on purifying it. Back then, the church summoned just one of the demon king’s fingers.”

Charles spoke up. “I’ve heard about the tragedy of Philpia.”

“But I heard the sacrifices numbered in the hundreds…” Basil added, his voice barely above a whisper.

“The inner workings of the church are a mystery,” Hector replied. “What matters now is that the eclipse has already occurred, and the ritual has begun.”

I asked, “So what happens next?”

“First, living things will mutate. All non-resistant creatures will be affected by the miasma, twisting their bodies.”

“Mutations?”

“Originally, there were no wolf-type monsters in this forest. The beasts here must have already been affected,” Hector explained. “Second, demons will appear. Most will be low-grade, with the intelligence of beasts, but the Gates of Hell will open, and they will emerge in droves.”

Hector looked at me. “Then there’s the eclipse you mentioned.”

“How many levels does the ritual have?” I asked.

“As far as I know, there are four. In the final stage, the ground itself will rot, emitting a vile miasma. It’s a force so potent that even seasoned heroes won’t be able to withstand it.”

If the ritual reached that point, we would all die. There was no time to waste. Hector’s explanation cast a heavy pall over the group, and I felt it too.

I had known the situation was dire, but seeing it firsthand was beyond anything I had imagined.

I really would have died if this disaster had unfolded fully. Did Master foresee this?

However, this wasn’t about seeking advice anymore.

Have I grown enough to handle such a catastrophe in just one month? I wondered.

Then Evan asked calmly, “The Badnikers must know something has happened. Won’t your family send support soon?”

“Support will come, but we don’t know when,” Hector replied.

“Why?”

“A barrier with a twenty-kilometer radius surrounds the training camp. Archmage Assad himself created it to completely isolate the inside from the outside,” Hector answered.

“Why would such a barrier exist?”

“We couldn’t have set up camp in this dangerous place without it. It not only prevents monster invasions but also counters the forest’s unique effects, like the loss of direction.”

“Ah, so that’s how it is,” Evan muttered.

“The mastermind likely knows this as well.” Hector didn’t say it outright, but he clearly believed the mastermind was an insider within the family.

“It would be helpful if we could send word outside,” Evan said.

“Isn’t there someone with a blessing for that? After all, someone managed to bring in outside items at will,” Charles pointed out.

Our eyes turned to Charon.

Although it wasn’t clear whether he understood the situation, he replied bluntly, “If you mean Zeros, it’s impossible. His blessing doesn’t create a passage to the outside. It’s just a huge warehouse.”

I couldn’t help but admire Charon’s composure, speaking so curtly even after being beaten. Then something occurred to me.

“Wait. You said Assad created the barrier, right?”

“It is Sir Assad,” Hector corrected.

“Yes, Sir Assad.”

Hector gave me a disgruntled look before nodding. “That’s right. That’s why any power weaker than his is useless against it.”

“I have a magic tool that the family head gave me. Wouldn’t that be enough to break through an Archmage’s power?” I asked.

“A magic tool?” Hector asked.

I raised my middle finger—not to offend Hector, but to show him the ring I wore.

“What is that?”

“It’s said that if I inject mana into it, I can teleport to the fifth floor,” I replied.

“Ah!” Hector examined the ring closely, his expression brightening. “A plain ring, devoid of jewels or intricate patterns… It’s unmistakably Sir Assad’s work.”

I hummed in response.

“This magic tool should be able to breach the barrier,” Hector concluded.

Cries of relief erupted from the group, like a ray of sunshine piercing through the gloom that had settled over us.

“Okay, give me a moment,” I said, immediately infusing mana into the black ring.

I wondered what would happen if it didn’t work. Fortunately, the ring resonated with my mana without issue. Mana surged from the ring and engulfed me.

In an instant, my vision changed, and I gasped.

Before I knew it, I stood in the middle of a shabby room—a large, windowless, doorless space filled with bookshelves, most of which held books written in unknown languages.

Wasn’t it said that the scenery of the fifth floor changes every time? This means the Iron-Blooded Lord has to be here somewhere, I thought.

“What?” I exclaimed, sensing no trace of him. When I turned, I saw someone else seated at the table—a man wearing reading glasses, calmly reading a book without sparing me a glance.

It was Archmage Assad.

“Luan Badniker, why are you here?” he asked, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

“What about you, Assad?” I countered.

“Is it strange for me to be in my own room?”

“It is. I’m wearing this ring, so I should be on the fifth floor of the main house,” I replied.

“Ring?” Only then did Assad look up from his book, his tired eyes settling on the ring. “Where did you get that?”

“The family head gave it to me.”

“Delak gave it to you? Hmm.” Assad studied me with doubtful eyes, then shrugged as if losing interest. “If you say so, I suppose that’s the case.”

“So where is the family head?”

“I don’t know. You’re disturbing me, so leave now,” Assad said, attempting to dismiss me.

“W-wait a minute!” I exclaimed hurriedly.

“What is it?”

“We’re in a perilous situation because of your barrier,” I explained.

Assad raised an eyebrow. “My barrier?”

I quickly filled him in on the special trial, the casualties, and the signs of the demon king’s summoning.

Assad closed his book, held his chin, and seemed to ponder the situation. His reaction was far calmer than I had expected.

I had expected him to react more strongly upon hearing that a demon king was about to be summoned. I then recalled that mages who lived for centuries often developed a detached, almost dull emotional demeanor.

I believed that my life would be boring if I had to live like that.

Then Assad spoke, his tone even. “I see.”

“Um, excuse me, but is that all you have to say?”

“What is there to make a fuss about?” he replied.

“I thought you’d at least be surprised,” I said.

“Why should I be surprised to hear something I already know?” he retorted.

“What?” I blurted, unsure if I’d heard him correctly.

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