The Problematic Child of the Magic Tower-Chapter 295

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Chapter 295: Primordial Evil (10)

Death was something he had grown quite familiar with in his previous life.

As the constant companion of the battlefield, it always lurked nearby, waiting to claim him.

Perhaps that was why—

he sensed the familiar smell of death creeping in.

‘That guy… he’s aiming for me.’

From the moment Belpher began absorbing the tidal wave of malice, Oscar’s instincts screamed.

And those instincts placed him at a crossroads.

Should he trust Lloyd and the Heavenly Sword and continue maintaining the spatial pocket?

Or cancel it now and evade the incoming attack himself?

‘…This isn’t good.’

It was just a feeling—

but it was the intuition of a 9-circle archmage in his past life.

And Oscar’s survival instincts had saved him countless times.

‘Release the layers… one by one.’

An 8-layered spatial pocket was like eight heavy locks.

Just as locking them was difficult, unlocking them was no easier.

Oscar began peeling away the layers one at a time—

like removing delicate petals from a flower.

And the moment he dispelled the third layer,

Belpher’s mana vanished.

‘He’s coming.’

Thump, thump—

his heartbeat quickened, and Oscar hastily forced it down, calming himself.

With steady hands, he finished dispelling the remaining layers.

Whish!

His head jerked aside just in time, narrowly dodging Belpher’s blow.

‘Damn it.’

But it was too early to breathe in relief.

The moment Belpher realized his attack had failed, he instantly followed up.

Slice!

A hand flew.

“You dare show your back to me? Isn’t that a bit arrogant?”

The Heavenly Sword’s icy voice rang out as Belpher’s eyes twisted in rage.

Without hesitation, Belpher swung his other hand.

Slice!

This time, everything from his fingers to his shoulder crumbled into dust.

And that wasn’t the end.

A vine erupted from the ground, wrapping tightly around his ankle.

“Tch.”

Clicking his tongue, Belpher chopped off both knees and leapt backward.

His momentary ambush had failed, and the flow of battle slipped from his grasp.

“Well dodged.”

The Heavenly Sword naturally stepped in front of Oscar, blocking him from view.

He glanced back and saw Oscar wiping blood from his face.

“Are you ready?”

“Probably.”

The holy sword Itaca had said it needed around a thousand years to fully recover its divine power. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

‘Though I did pull it out about ten seconds ahead of schedule…’

A difference of ten seconds mattered little when dealing with spans of centuries.

At 8-layer storage, that was only a difference of thirty-five years.

Meaning,

right now, Itaca held nine hundred sixty-five years’ worth of divine power.

“Let’s hurry. Before he stuffs himself with more of that black filth.”

The moment the Heavenly Sword finished speaking—

Lloyd unleashed a colossal burst of mana.

“Bloom—Cradle of All Things.”

Once again, a massive flower bloomed within Lloyd’s world.

It grew explosively and soon sealed the gaping hole in the ceiling.

Naturally, the torrent of malice pouring in from above was cut off.

“Kh…!”

Lloyd’s contorted face gave way to a desperate shout.

“Just buy a moment! Quickly!”

“…Young one, mind your manners.”

The Heavenly Sword clicked his tongue lightly and reached out his hand.

Every gesture radiated the relaxed confidence of a true master.

“Bring out the holy sword. I will finish this.”

“Yes, just a moment!”

Since Itaca was in sword form, the Heavenly Sword was unquestionably the best wielder for the job.

Both allies and enemies knew this well.

Belpher, face twisted like a monstrous demon, moved to stop them.

“Don’t you dare!”

Kwaaaaaa!

A huge wave of malice surged toward them.

At the same time, the maze wall behind them collapsed, and a flood of malice crashed forward.

“We’ll handle the back—focus on the front!”

Lloyd roared fiercely, unleashing everything he had.

“Grow—Green Barrier!”

Kwaaaa!

Vines burst from the floor, walls, and ceiling, weaving themselves into a thick green wall.

It held firm against the oncoming tide.

“Kh!”

Seeing Lloyd straining, Oscar opened a spatial pocket.

Just moments ago, he had placed Itaca inside.

Now he retrieved it and handed it to the Heavenly Sword.

“Here!”

“Mm. Excellent.”

The Heavenly Sword gripped the hilt and calmly faced the oncoming malice.

His back looked like something out of a legend.

‘No… it IS.’

The continent’s greatest knight wielding the holy sword forged by the goddess herself.

Even compared to the hero of 842 years ago, the combination was flawless.

“I go.”

As the Heavenly Sword lowered his stance—

Oscar felt something deeply wrong.

‘…What is this feeling?’

A strange unease fluttered in his chest.

Like the sensation of leaving for a long journey and realizing you forgot something crucial.

His gaze drifted to the sword in the Heavenly Sword’s hand.

“…?”

Itaca had been stored within eight layered pockets for five entire minutes.

It should be overflowing with divine power.

‘Then why…?’

Why did he sense nothing from the sword?

And why, upon emerging, had Itaca not spoken a single word?

“Wait—”

The moment Oscar opened his mouth—

Crack!

The sword’s hilt shattered.

The Heavenly Sword’s eyes snapped down.

Crackle—Crack!

The holy blade disintegrated into dust.

“…”

His pupils widened.

He turned forward again and tried to unfurl his will to block the incoming malice—

Kwaaaaaa!!

But he was too late.

The malice struck squarely into his chest, crushing it inward like soft clay.

“Guhheueeek!”

The man who had never feared anything—

the man acclaimed as the pinnacle of humanity—

coughed blood.

Thud!

His knees dropped to the floor.

“…….”

“…….”

Knights of the Heavenly Sword family and priests of the Church stared in disbelief.

They knew all too well what the fall of this one man meant.

“Grandfather! Lord Grandfather!”

Young Lord Cheon Ajin, the Little Sword Master, screamed and charged forward.

The Heavenly Sword had forbidden him from joining, but the sight of him injured shattered his reason.

“Stop—!”

Oscar didn’t even have time to warn him.

Belpher’s lip curled.

Boom!!

His malice struck him like a meteor, slamming him into a wall at twice the speed he had run.

“Well now.”

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Belpher spoke leisurely, as though he had never been desperate at all.

“Seems something went wrong with your little holy sword, hm?”

“…….”

“Heh. Honestly didn’t expect things to go this well.”

Oscar bit down on his lip.

Only one question echoed in his mind,

‘Destroyed? A holy sword… destroyed? How?’

Itaca had told him there were only two ways to recover divine power,

either receive overwhelming divinity,

or wait for it to fill naturally.

‘So I gave it time. Almost a thousand years of it.’

But the sword had shattered.

Leaving behind not a single trace of divinity.

The radiant holy power bestowed by the goddess herself—

gone without a speck.

“…El Sia…”

Priests closed their eyes and prayed through tears.

The fall of the Heavenly Sword meant the battle was already lost.

Their prayers were, perhaps, simply the cries of those awaiting death.

“Kh… I can’t…!”

To make matters worse, Lloyd’s body trembled violently.

His mana had completely dried up, and the flowers and vines withered away.

“Mm.”

Kwaaaa!

The tide of malice surged into Belpher.

He welcomed it with open arms, devouring all of it in seconds.

His half-closed eyes gleamed.

“A wonderful day.”

“G-ghhh…!”

“Uweeeek!”

His mere muttering filled the air with enough malice to twist the mana circuits of everyone present.

People vomited blood.

Oscar barely held his own circuits from collapsing.

“Huff… huff…”

Stabilizing his insides was all he could manage.

He scanned the area.

And despaired.

There was no winning.

No strategy.

No hope.

The knights had lost their will.

The priests had lost themselves to prayer.

Oscar closed his eyes.

He counted his remaining mana.

‘With this much… somehow…’

He no longer sought victory.

Only the best possible loss.

When he opened his eyes,

a hand gripped his ankle.

Lloyd.

Shaking, bleeding, barely upright.

“…Don’t. Please… don’t.”

His eyes held fear and fury—

but not toward the enemy.

Toward Oscar.

“I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do it.”

The boy rose unsteadily, collapsing like a newborn deer but forcing himself upright.

“You think I wouldn’t notice?”

“…”

Oscar gave a tired smile.

“You know there’s no way. We’ve lost. Now we pay the price.”

“Fine. Then I’ll pay it with you.”

Oscar shook his head.

“No. Even if everyone else dies, you and the Heavenly Sword must survive.”

“I refuse!”

Crack!

Oscar’s fist struck Lloyd’s jaw like a bolt of lightning.

He caught the collapsing boy and whispered bitterly,

“…This isn’t your decision.”

They needed an 8-level knight and 8-level mage alive for the future.

Without hesitation, Oscar tugged at the strings of space.

Fwoosh! Fwip! Fwip!

In an instant, Lloyd, the Heavenly Sword, the Little Sword Master, and Archbishop Baldwin vanished.

‘Sorry… I’m sorry…’

His mana could only move four people.

So he chose the four the future needed most.

“What’s this?”

Belpher scanned the room, frowning.

Like a predator robbed of prey.

“You used that pathetic power of yours again.”

“Give it up. They’re already off the island.”

“Keuk—am I supposed to believe that?”

Belpher swept out his senses

and looked upward toward the sky.

Through the hole in the ceiling, a large airship hovered.

“So that’s where you sent them.”

“…”

He was annoyingly quick to notice.

Oscar’s power wasn’t enough to send them back to the continent—

only as far as the Nosfela airship.

Crack!

“…?”

Belpher lowered his gaze.

A chain of mana wrapped tightly around his waist.

“What are you doing?”

“They won’t escape if you go after them.”

“…Hah. Hahahaha!”

Belpher laughed loudly, grabbing the chain and pulling casually—

to tear it apart and chase the ship.

“…?”

But it didn’t tear.

Oscar smiled faintly.

“You can’t brute-forcibly rip it. The more power you use, the tighter it binds.”

Crunch!

As he pulled, the chain constricted harder, crushing his waist.

“You little worm.”

He yanked harder—

dragging Oscar toward him.

Slam!

He kicked Oscar to the ground and planted a foot on his neck.

“One little push and your neck snaps like straw.”

“…Go ahead. If you can.”

That inexplicable confidence made Belpher scowl.

He pressed down—

Kwaaaa!

A blast of holy power smashed into Belpher’s face.

Though his face melted from the incompatible energy, it healed instantly.

He turned toward the attacker.

“Huff… huff…”

Aine Fenerbahce stood with sword drawn and trembling breath.

“Archmage Oscar—were the Heavenly Sword, the Little Sword Master, the Archbishop, and the Ashen Mage truly sent to safety?”

“…I’m sorry.”

Oscar bowed his head.

He expected resentment.

Instead—

“No. It’s fine.”

Aine smiled weakly.

“I trust those four. They will prepare to face the Demon Lord.”

“…You do not resent me?”

“For what? If you had the power to save everyone, you would have. Since you couldn’t… there must have been a reason.”

Oscar had never once thought of himself as righteous.

“I only ever chose the best option I could. That’s all.”

“No.”

Aine denied it firmly.

“If you were not righteous, you would have boarded that airship yourself. That’s what most people would have done. To lay down your life while saving others—that alone makes you righteous.”

“…”

And at that moment—

through the chaotic mana in his circuits, a faint warmth seeped in.

Not mana.

Something familiar.

Something gentle.

—Correct.

A voice he had heard long ago echoed through his mind.

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]