I Was Mistaken as a Genius Mage in a Game-Chapter 87

The barrier was lifted. The huge wall with a radius of several tens of kilometers, the huge trap that had imprisoned all four of the overlords, disappeared from their places as if they had never existed.

“Ha! What a success!”

Malthael quickly looked around, then quickly finished assessing the situation and smiled. Michael, who had created the explosion, also had a satisfied expression on his face as his life-threatening gamble paid off.

The two overlords spread their wings wide and began to flee from Valerland without hesitation.

Michael, who had created the explosion, was not seriously injured, although his skin was scratched by the spears and swords swung by the soldiers who had arrived late to protect Bell.

Malthael also paid no attention to the magic and arrows that flew in to intercept him.

“......Damn it.”

The boy could not help but curse as he looked at the two overlords who had started to run away with a dejected expression.

As a result, the two overlords fled from Valerland.

Michael to the west, Malthael to the east.

“Bell......?”

As the two overlords fled the scene, the voice of the saint in despair filled the battlefield.

The wizard Bel Artois had lost an arm and a leg, lost dozens of liters of blood, and suffered large burns all over his body.

“......Ah, I missed.”

Bel leaned against Grisha and let out a hollow laugh.

I felt pain somewhere in my body, but I don’t know where it came from.

Something was seriously wrong with my body, but I didn’t have the time to figure it out. Maybe it was because I had hastily released the spatial magic, but I felt like my brain was badly damaged somewhere.

“Hey, Bell.”

My limbs were tattered.

My brain belatedly recognized the pain.

I had to breathe, but my lungs were just exhaling without taking in any air.

Consciousness faded and became clear repeatedly.

Once, she felt an intense light envelop her entire body, and another time, she felt pitch-black darkness engulf her body.

Belle Artois collapsed on the borderline between life and death, having lost one arm and one leg.

“......Why, why did you do that?”

Saint Grisha asked, holding Bel Artois’ tattered body in her arms. Her voice trembled, and her eyes were red.

“What?”

Belle Artois answered with her eyes closed. She couldn’t keep them open because the light and darkness kept intersecting and tormenting her vision.

“Why did you wrap me up?”

Grisha asked, clutching Bel Artois’ melted clothes tightly.

“......Huh? Ah.”

The moment Michael’s fingers exploded. Belle Artois’s brain was hurriedly pulling together all the nerves it could use to release the spatial barrier covering Valorand. At that moment, Belle didn’t even have the consciousness to order her body to crouch or lie down to avoid the explosion.

“I don’t know, me either.”

Nevertheless, the moment the explosion occurred, Belle’s body moved.

Belle’s body didn’t move when he covered Grisha from the explosion. It would be more accurate to say that his ‘body moved on its own.’

“......Well, I thought that if you were alive, you would somehow save me.”

So Belle answered with whatever came to mind.

In fact, there was no reason.

My body just moved on its own... ... If I had been honest, I thought Grisha would keep questioning me.

I was too tired and sleepy. I didn’t want to argue with anyone. I just wanted to make an excuse and rest.

“Consider my position too!”

Grisha shouted with a tearful voice.

The soldiers who heard her despairing voice were at a loss and could not even approach her.

The pillar of the battlefield that performed miracles with a kind smile in any situation, and the sword of the battlefield that gave orders with coolness in any situation, collapsed in an instant.

“......Position? Ah, position. Yes. There is a position.”

Bell, on the border between life and death, muttered to himself like a crazy person after hearing Grisha’s voice.

Grisha quickly removed the shield surrounding him and began to pray for healing.

It was the prayer he had prayed with the most earnest heart in his entire life.

The green light began to warmly embrace Bell’s skin that was burning red. The burning sensation gradually faded away, and a warm and cozy sensation enveloped his entire body. The pain gradually subsided, and the mind that had been in disarray from dispelling the spatial magic began to come back to life.

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“......Grisha.”

“Shut up.”

Grisha had no intention of letting Bell rest.

“Yeah. You don’t deserve to rest yet.”

Bell muttered to himself as he watched Grisha desperately praying to save himself.

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“When the Black Saint comes back after dealing with Raguel, tell him to follow them by scent. The wind has started to blow, so the scent will disappear quickly. We have to move quickly.”

Bell Artois shook off the helplessness and fatigue that enveloped his body and opened his mouth.

“Form a strike force. Excluding Vin, gather at least twenty men of the platoon leader level. With the Overlord dying, there is no need for many skilled soldiers to remain in this battlefield.”

His war was not over yet.

“......That’s enough. Just focus on surviving.”

After finishing one prayer, Grisha said in a tearful voice before offering the next prayer.

“Michael is strong against magicians, so send the Sword Saint to him and Malthael will chase the strike team. I also told him to avoid combat as much as possible and buy time until the Sword Saint arrives.”

Bell seemed unwilling to shut up no matter what she said.

Eventually, he burst into tears. Grisha couldn’t say anything more because he felt so sorry for Bell, who kept talking without thinking about his own body.

He just prayed for this poor soul.

“......I can’t rest, Grisha. I promised my subordinates. I’d give them victory no matter what happened. My dead subordinates won’t be satisfied with this kind of half-assed promise.”

Bell’s eyes, which were revealed, were filled with strong anger and a great sense of guilt.

If this continues, Bell won’t be able to close his eyes properly even in the grave.

Even after death, he would become a ghost who would follow the shadows of Malthael and Michael and curse those two monsters for the rest of his life, and Belle would gladly accept that fate.

“.......”

Like Astella’s guidance, or peace in the afterlife.

Belle Artois didn’t need those things.

All she needed was proof that this war was worth sending countless subordinates to their deaths.

“Make sure to include a magician in the strike force. And tell them to fire loud and noticeable magic high into the sky at regular intervals. Avoid combat if possible, and if Malthael attacks first.......”

Belle continued to babble about the detailed operation, tracking methods, and engagement rules to Grisha, who was reciting a prayer.

“Whew, in that case.......”

Eventually, her tongue began to freeze.

The coldness seeped into his chest, stabbing his heart, and the pain covering his entire body gradually disappeared.

“.......”

Belle instinctively felt that the next words he uttered could be the last words of his life.

Then, the countless cases and strategies that had filled his mind disappeared cleanly.

In his now-white mind, only one word remained.

“Thank you, Grisha.”

The two great monarchs appeared in person at the rear of the Allied forces’ formation.

Thanks to the two great monarchs’ clever maneuver, Belle and Grisha were exposed to a surprise attack, and as a result, Belle Artois was seriously injured.

In addition, the barrier surrounding them was removed, and Maltiel and Michael fled the battlefield.

Although the Sword Master was aware of all of this, he did not go to the rear to provide support. His sword simply extended towards Raguel, who was right in front of him.

“Run away! Hey, Maltiel and Michael are running away, you punk!”

Raguel ran away from the swordsman’s sword tip and screamed loudly.

“Aren’t you worried about your comrades?! And you’re going to let those two run away like this?! We need to hurry and take care of the situation......”

Crunch!

Raguel’s neck, who was flying through the sky at hundreds of kilometers per hour and chattering nonstop, was lightly sliced ​​off. Raguel’s severed head instantly rotted away and turned into dust, then a new head grew out of his torso.

“This crazy punk, what did I do wrong that he’s so obsessed with ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) me!”

The swordsman was quite clear about what he could and couldn’t do.

The situation on the battlefield had definitely changed. The great monarchs, who had been like rats in a poison, were dealing a big blow and running away, looking for a way to survive.

The plan Bell had designed while losing sleep in the bloody battlefield collapsed, and the few 9th Circle magicians on the continent were seriously injured.

Even so, Geomseong steadily carried out what he had to do in this chaotic battlefield.

“If this continues, we’ll lose both of the great monarchs! In that case, it would be better to abandon me and go catch those two right now, no matter how much you think about it?! It’s not too late now, you can kill them both! It’s much better to kill two than one......!”

Swish―

Geomseong quickly flapped his wings and plunged his blade into Raguel’s left chest as he fled. As if he was cutting tofu, the blade gently tore through his skin and muscles and stuck itself in.

As Raguel quickly turned his body, Geomseong twisted the blade and pulled it out. The speed at which he twisted and pulled the blade was so fast that a small vortex formed around Geomseong’s blade.

Raguel's bones and flesh were crushed by the small vortex created by the thin blade of the sword, and a large hole was created in his left chest. A pitch-black sphere the size of a walnut appeared inside the hole created by the sword.

"Wait...! You little punk. The situation has changed...."

Crunch!

The tip of the sword pierced Raguel's chest once again as he tried to cover his weak point with flesh and bone.

This time, the sound of bone and flesh being torn was heard, along with the sound of glass beads shattering.

"Don't worry."

There was not a single moment of hesitation in his actions.

Raguel's body, whose core had been destroyed, began to rot and crumble in an instant. The poisonous blood evaporated and the dirty flesh dried up like dried squid.

"A man named Bel Artois is the type who doesn't say empty words even if he dies soon."

The swordsman pulled out his sword from Raguel's body that was turning to dust.

The silver blade reflected the sunlight clearly. Despite grinding away dozens of tons of rotten flesh and bones, there was not a single speck of dirt on his blade, and the blade stood out eerily as if it had just come out of the forge.

"And he said that four great lords would die today."

Three minutes and ten seconds had passed since the swordsman arrived in Valorand.

"Four great lords will die today. It's already been decided."

The second great lord lost his life.