The Sword Emperor Transmigrates-Chapter 283

As the battle between Surtr, the Archduke of Swords Declan, and Ancestor Cardenas erupted, the battlefield began to move in earnest.

The hordes of outer-dimensional beings pouring out of the sealed abyss surged endlessly toward the defensive line. Towering over the battlefield, Hydra and Monegarm raised their massive bodies—each over a hundred meters tall—and let out deafening roars. The roars were not mere sounds but waves of power that made the air tremble. The force was so overwhelming that it hammered home the vast difference in existence between them and their foes.

■■■■■■■■■——!!!

Even those stationed kilometers away felt a chill race down their spines. Even if the enemies descended as Demigod Tier beings, mortals could hardly endure the presence of such beings. And these were not merely brushing the threshold of True Gods—they had surpassed it.

If not for the past three years of relentless special training, countless troops would have collapsed under the sheer pressure of their existence. There were ways to mount a resistance against Demigod Tier foes, but the moment the enemy was at the True God–level, they would cause unimaginable devastation if they were left to freely roam the battlefield. Thus, the allied forces had no choice but to deploy forces that could match them.

With thunderous steps, the bronze giant Talos sprang into motion.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Every time the bronze giant’s feet struck the ground, the earth quaked, and deep craters were left in its wake. Talos’s strides grew longer, its momentum accelerating, each step pushing it faster and faster. The shockwaves from its movement blasted the dust and debris outward. The technology and material that went into creating Talos were not weak enough to be damaged just from the pressure of breaking through the speed of sound.

The sheer mass of Talos—hundreds, perhaps even thousands of tons—rushed forward like a living cannonball. Then, with all that force, Talos collided head-on with Hydra, crashing directly into its monstrous, nine-headed form.

Kabooom—!!!

The impact resounded as if the sky itself had collapsed. The bronze giant and the nine-headed Outer God tumbled away from the battlefield, locked in a violent struggle. Incredibly, Talos’s charge had forcefully pushed Hydra back, creating a distance between it and the defensive line. Though the damage was superficial—some scales tore loose and a faint shock vibrated through its monstrous body—the mere fact that Hydra had been repelled at all was astonishing.

Hydra itself seemed momentarily stunned. All nine of its reptilian heads blinked, their eyes widening as they gazed down at the bronze giant now crashed into its body.

—...■■■? ■■■■, ■■?

Talos, the giant of Crete, and Hydra, the beast that had once suffered humiliation at the hands of the God of Heroes Heracles—both had once roamed the domains of Olympus. Even if they had never encountered one another before, recognizing each other was not difficult.

Having identified what Talos was, all nine pairs of Hydra’s gleaming green eyes suddenly ignited, unleashing a barrage of toxic rays.

Shiiiing!!

Though inferior to the venom excreted from its fangs, these beams still carried a lethal, corrosive force capable of melting through most metals with ease.

Poison came in many forms. It could be mineral-based or biological. It could manifest as acids, chemical reactions, or even intangible phenomena like radiation and waves. Anything that induced harm was considered a poison. And at its core, Hydra’s divine authority was the ability to manipulate the concept of harm.

Ssssssssshhh...!

At first, Talos’s bronze surface sizzled and corroded, a faint bubbling appearing across its metallic skin. Then, the bubbling ceased as if the venom’s effect had simply been washed away, and the bronze giant’s gleaming blue-tinted bronze body was fully restored.

The corrosion had been nullified. The secret lay in the nature of Talos itself. Bronze, one of the oldest alloys known to human civilization, developed a patina over time that protected it from further corrosion. Ancient rulers favored it for its resilience and durability, even when ancient metallurgy failed to fully explain why it remained so impervious. This misunderstanding gave rise to the notion that bronze did not rust.

So as a construct embodying this very principle, Talos was conceptually immune to corrosion.

Inside the bronze giant’s head, seated in the cockpit, Drake let out a quiet sigh of relief. He barked out a command.

“Divert heat, Talos!”

Though Drake had anticipated Talos could withstand Hydra’s poison, witnessing the sheer presence of the Outer God up close had triggered a primal terror within him.

But since Talos had endured, Drake could now choose to fight. The bronze giant obeyed its pilot’s orders and redirected energy from its power core, sending heat coursing through its metal veins.

Vroooom—!

The turbines within its power core roared to life, spinning at incomprehensible speeds. The heat spread rapidly. Talos’s blue-tinted body began to glow. It only took an instant for Talos to turn red from the heat.

According to ancient records, Talos had once annihilated entire fleets attempting to land on Crete. Even in an age where magic engineering had not reached its current heights, there had existed relics of unknown origin—wonders lost to time.

The Argo, the legendary ship of the Argonauts, had been one such relic. If Talos had been able to incinerate warships of that era so easily, how intense must its heat have been?

—■■, ■■■■!

One thing was certain. Even a True God entity like Hydra had instinctively recoiled, attempting to retreat the moment it felt the rising heat. Now radiating a golden-white incandescence like the sun, Talos distorted the air around it, creating heat mirages that blurred its silhouette.

This was no mere war machine. It was a weapon capable of dealing with True God entities.

“You’re not getting away!”

Sensing Hydra’s retreat, Drake immediately pulled at the controls, commanding Talos to lunge forward. The bronze giant grabbed one of Hydra’s necks, its molten-hot arms coiling around the beast’s flesh.

There was no need to punch or crush. Just the act of holding was enough to cause devastation. Sure enough, with a sickening crack, one of Hydra’s necks snapped clean off, the severed stump turning black as it burned to ash.

In Heracles’ legend, cutting off one of Hydra’s heads without sealing the wound would cause two more to grow in its place. But if the wound was immediately seared, the regeneration would be stopped. Talos had just accomplished this effortlessly.

—■■■■■■■■...!!

Hydra was enraged, its rage so fierce it twisted Hydra’s very form. Abandoning its retreat, the monster coiled in on itself, preparing to retaliate. Its eight remaining heads spewed acidic breath while its massive tail lashed out, striking Talos with enough force to send the bronze giant flying several hundred meters.

“Urgh! What monstrous strength!”

It would have been obliterated had it been a Masterpiece-class vessel, let alone another lesser machine.

Feeling the full brunt of the impact from within, Drake gritted his teeth and yanked at the controls once more while suppressing the fear welling from within him.

Talos’s conceptual resistance to poison had allowed it to endure so far, but it was not invulnerable. Hydra’s divine authority was continuously eroding Talos’s poison resistance. Would Talos melt away first, or would the remaining eight heads of Hydra be severed?

“Let’s go, Talos! Just eight more to go!”

The ancient automaton responded, its will faint yet still present. The turbines flared. The heat surged.

The ground itself melted beneath its feet as Talos launched forward again, charging straight toward Hydra. Hydra lashed out furiously, its heads and tails striking like whips as it resisted with all its might.

The battle between the bronze giant and the serpent Outer God was nothing short of a natural disaster. The earth was torn apart in their struggle, while searing heat and deadly venom rained down across the battlefield.

* * *

Monegarm was an Outer God associated with Utgard, the frost giant stronghold within the dominion of the jotun, the sworn enemies of the Aesir gods.

The most famous Outer God from Utgard was Utgard Loki, who had once humiliated even Thor, the strongest God of Thunder and Martial God in Asgard. However, Monegarm was nowhere near as powerful or legendary. Compared to other Outer Gods, its reputation was rather insignificant.

“...The corpse-eater, Monegarm, is it? It seems they’ve specifically chosen this entity as a countermeasure, fully aware of the netherworld’s unique properties.”

Hearing the remark from Nicholas, the Librarian, both Alastair and Antonius nodded in agreement.

“In a land where the dead are strewn about, that creature will only grow stronger the more it feasts. It will recover its divinity and expand its presence with ease.”

“It may be a lower-ranked jotun, but if it manages to restore its original divinity and presence, it could become an even greater threat than Surtr and Hydra. We must not hold back—we must strike it down before it reaches full strength.”

Even if it was classified as a lower-rank Outer God, if Monegarm managed to regain its true form, it would become an even greater menace than Hydra and Surtr, who lacked the ability to expand their existence.

Ordinarily, Monegarm was not considered a particularly formidable Outer God among the jotun. However, here in the underworld—where countless corpses lay in eternal rest—its ability to devour the dead turned it into an immensely dangerous threat.

And in this realm, even the living could sometimes be perceived as among the dead. To Monegarm, the regular troops of the allied forces likely seemed like nothing more than sacrificial offerings waiting to be consumed.

■■■? ■■?

Just as the old legends claimed, Monegarm seemed unable to suppress its instincts, driven solely by an insatiable hunger for corpses. Its intelligence did not appear to be particularly high; Monegarm hesitated, uncertain whether the mages discussing its fate above its head were prey or not.

This provided the Grand Magi with the opportunity they needed.

“Let’s begin.”

“This should be an interesting experience.”

“I’ll be counting on you both.”

Even with three Class 9 Grand Magi present, victory against a True God–level Outer God was not guaranteed. The only reason Monegarm hadn’t already attacked was that it did not perceive them as a threat.

That, however, was its greatest mistake. Unlike warriors who fought using their own physical strength, mages borrowed power from external sources. Their strength fluctuated drastically depending on their level of preparation. If Monegarm had understood this, it would never have given them time to act.

“Thee, born between Aether and Gaia!” Antonius, the Barrier Master, was the first to begin his incantation. “O deepest, darkest prison of the underworld—Tartarus! Abyss from which neither god nor giant can escape! By the authority of the King of the Underworld, Hades, and as his duly appointed emissary, I command thee—manifest!”

It was a barrier magic that partially materialized Tartarus itself—a realm that even Class 9 mages would normally have no right to touch. However, as this was done within Hades’ territory and with his explicit permission, it barely became possible.

The spell activated, and the boundary of Tartarus unfolded around Monegarm.

■■■■!? ■■■!

A moment too late, Monegarm realized it had been imprisoned. It let out a furious roar, but before it could activate its divine authority, Nicholas’s supreme magic was already upon it.

“In the Dionysiaca of Nonnus, it is written! O thee, Drakaina, with the lower half of a serpent and the upper half of a woman! Thou, elder even than the Gorgons! Thou, who once stood boldly before the King of Gods! I call thy name! Let all know of thine existence! The keeper of ancient tomes speaks—the Warden of Tartarus, the Nymph of Tartarus!”

Hundreds of scrolls and grimoires burned away, consumed as sacrifices, yet this was merely the preliminary ritual.

Summoning magic was not Nicholas’s specialty. From the very beginning, both Antonius and Nicholas had been acting in support of Alastair, the true summoning expert among them.

A summoning ritual meant to call forth a True God being from the ancient era. It was an impossible task for a mere Class 9 mage. And yet, by fulfilling a near-impossible set of conditions, they had managed to increase their chances ever so slightly.

Now, at the climax of the spell, Alastair delivered the final invocation.

“O thou, whose hair is of serpents, whose wings are of bats! Thou, with the tail of a scorpion and the hide of beasts! Keeper of the Purgatorial Flame! Guardian of the Abyss! Fulfill thy duty against this blasphemous intruder!”

The sheer strain of surpassing the limits of magic caused his circle to distort. Blood poured from his eyes and nose, yet his chanting did not falter.

At last, Alastair spoke the name of the being he sought to summon: “Manifest thyself—Kampe!”

Kampe was appointed as the Warden of Tartarus during the reign of Kronus, a divinity of an era even older than Zeus. Though she had once been slain by Zeus’s lightning spear, Hades had later resurrected her after the war, reinstating her as Tartarus’s gatekeeper.

Among the Monstrous Gods who had not betrayed Olympus, she ranked among the strongest. And now, she had answered their call.

—...How dare you summon me, you insolent wretches? Were it not for his will, I would have torn you all apart and fed you to the dogs of Tartarus.

The very air trembled as the newly manifested godly beast, Kampe, let out a low, menacing growl.

—I shall tear this wretch to shreds first. Then I will decide your fate.

Her presence alone was overwhelming. Even Monegarm instinctively took a step back. But Kampe did not intend to let it retreat.

Her serpentine lower half coiled, her massive wings flared, and she lunged forward with her claws, wreathed in purgatorial flames. Monegarm’s thick hide split open, foul-smelling pus and blood oozing out, the burning claws searing its flesh.

■■■?! ■■■■■!?

—A wretched stench of rotting corpses pours from thy mouth! To think thou would dare defile the Underworld by devouring his denizens. Thy crime is worthy of death a hundred times over, traitorous cur!

Monegarm thrashed wildly, overwhelmed by pain and shock, but Kampe was merciless. With relentless fury, she slashed at it again and again, her flames carving deep wounds.

The battle against the third Outer God had begun. And so far, things seemed to be going very well.