41. The Belated Judgment (14)

The wizard couldn't remember how long he had been planning for this day, but he must have thought about it seriously. Not only that, he had even figured out the answers to other questions in advance, imprinting them deeply in his mind.

Even now, in his near-madness, the answer still clearly emerges from the depths of his heart.

"You must be extremely careful," Seraphax heard himself say. "This is no small matter; no task you've ever undertaken can compare to its importance. But you must also be wary of that evil god and his minions."

Their help may seem selfless and generous, but in this world, what is free is often the most expensive. You can't afford to lose; as a gambler, you might only have the smallest denomination chip at your disposal.

The wizard walked unsteadily, and several times he was even forced to fall to the ground because of his unsteady steps. He was so weak that for someone who had once received divine grace, this situation was nothing short of the most painful humiliation.

But he felt no shame about it. He had long been mentally prepared—how could such a crazy thing as reversing time and reshaping the past be accomplished so easily without paying any price?

The wizard knew perfectly well that his current weakness was only the first step. In time, the god of mischief, who had willingly Deceit and pleased by his clumsy schemes, would extend his emaciated claws from the surreal nightmare.

By then, everything he had planned would have become a crude joke that would make a god laugh. But there was indeed some kind of understanding between him and the god that He would support Seraphax without reservation until that moment came.

"His so-called help will get you killed," Seraphax heard himself say. "But if you've really come this far, then it means there's nothing left in the world that can change your mind."

"The galaxy is burning, Seraphax. Our galaxy has been burning for ten thousand years. Countless people have been incinerated in this terrifying fire, their souls stolen and used as pawns in the games between gods."

"This world is too unfair to humanity. The Imperium shouldn't have collapsed, the Great Crusade shouldn't have ended, and the Emperor shouldn't have sat on that instrument of execution. Both sides of the scale now hold matters you need to consider. Make a decision. But remember, be careful; you have no room for error."

The wizard took a deep breath of the air that belonged to Caliban.

Yes, we need to be careful.

He managed to stand up straight, and the empty ashes in his veins began to flow again under the strong command of his master's will. His heart began to beat again, gathering all the little strength he had left into the palm of his right hand.

A deep blue Radiance then shone, bounced nine times on the wizard's fingertips, and then shot into his eyes like lightning.

This was one of the thousands of sorceries he possessed, its name so illegible that it couldn't even be pronounced in any syllable, but that didn't matter; the wizard only needed its effect.

He took another deep breath, and beneath his robes, his body, which had been as shriveled as a mummy, began to rapidly regain its youth.

From the depths of the void, a soft laugh echoed. Immediately afterward, an immense power, far exceeding his capacity to withstand, surged forth from the void and entered his body.

In less than a few seconds, the wizard returned to his peak condition. This was a good thing, both publicly and privately, but he showed no joy whatsoever, simply transforming into a beam of light and vanishing from the spot.

As his body solidified again, the wizard had silently arrived several hundred meters away from a seemingly peaceful grove of trees, where his target lay.

The wizard slightly twitched his left index finger, and instantly captured some flying insects. They flapped their wings listlessly, flying into the depths of the forest with a sound so faint it was almost imperceptible.

There was a crevice where a boy, his hands and feet covered in dirt and blood, lay asleep. He was curled up, looking utterly insecure—and he certainly should be, shouldn't he?

To survive alone in such a desolate wilderness, with barely any clothing.

The wizard manipulated the flying insects, directing them towards a behemoth the size of an armored vehicle.

It appeared to be some kind of bear-like beast, which had been dead for some time, yet its blood was still steaming and spreading across the ground.

It had two wounds on its body. The first was its jaw, where the entire jaw of this giant beast had been torn off. The second was its chest and abdomen, where something had struck with a heavy object, causing the flesh and bone to mix together and sink deeply, destroying the internal organs as well.

The wizard inevitably felt a sense of awe.

He gave the swarm of flying insects a new command, and they immediately turned and silently flew toward the sleeping child.

Just to be on the safe side, he decided to use the swarm of insects as his scouts for the time being—the wizard didn't want to venture into the forest rashly, especially since it had already been taken over by a terrifying predator.

There wasn't a single other carnivore within dozens of miles; wild animals always have an extremely keen sense of danger. Insects chirped and hovered a few steps away from him for a few seconds, but the wizard's heart suddenly stopped beating.

The reason was simple: Lion Aljonsen, who had not yet been given a name, opened his eyes and stared intently at the swarm of flying insects.

Long, blond hair obscured his face, blurring his expression, but his emotionless emerald eyes seemed to pierce through the barren instincts of flying insects, reaching straight to the wizard's heart.

Half a second later, the swarm of insects was swatted dead by both hands. The lion cub lay down again, quietly closing its eyes, as if its sudden waking up at night was simply because it found the insects annoying.

"This is getting a little tricky," Seraphax heard himself say. "You have to make him understand the importance of your mission, but right now he's just an uncivilized savage. Unless he encounters humans, he'll probably continue wandering like this. Wait, get out of the way!"

The wizard turned around abruptly and saw a flash of sword light.

The sword strike came suddenly, without any warning. Even though he had been warned, he had no way to dodge it. Fortunately, the permanent shield spell on his robes worked, otherwise the sword would probably have pierced his skull.

However, this was only the beginning. The attackers fled immediately after missing their target, leaving no trace throughout the entire process.

The wizard frowned solemnly, his right hand forming a hand seal. A shimmering white light emanated from his body, sweeping across the surroundings as he began to investigate the attacker's location.

However, in that brief half-second, the wizard felt a tingling, unsettling sensation in his right index finger. Looking down, he saw two gleaming silver needles, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, deeply embedded in his finger.

Bypassing the shield?! No, they probably seized the opportunity during the spellcasting.

The wizard, his face grim, summoned flames that burned the two silver needles to ashes. Then, he raised his left hand, forming a blade with his palm, and without hesitation, severed his right hand from his wrist.

Something resembling ash gushed out from the broken surface, and several flying blades fell precisely from the sky. Although they clattered against the wizard's shield, they continued to spin at high speed, scattering Mars.

The transparent liquid coated on the flying blade gradually turned into a malevolent black in the flames, and began to erode the stability of the shield itself.

The wizard's pupils contracted, and without hesitation, he withdrew the spell, instead releasing a new shield, which finally brought the dangerous flying blades to a stop.

"This tactic... could it be the Officio Assassinorum?" Seraphax heard himself growl. "Something's wrong, get out of here! You have plenty of time!"

As soon as the words were spoken, the assassin, still lurking in the darkness, launched a third attack.

As if he could hear Seraphax's own advice, he deliberately chose such a dramatic moment, but the weapon he chose sent chills down the wizard's spine—he clearly saw a silver arm holding a gleaming Aquila emblem, pressing it down on his face without hesitation.

The wizard roared and used a teleportation spell without regard for the cost, disappearing from the spot.

The assassin missed his target, yet remained calm. The dim forest light shone on his cloak, revealing a black winged sword emblem. He walked to the spot where the wizard had vanished and touched the ground.

The unnatural high temperature generated by the teleportation spell is rapidly dissipating, but it still has an impact on this place; the pervasive power of Chaos has quietly lurked here.

The assassin pondered for a moment, then pressed the Aquila emblem in his hand deep into the soil. Only then did he retrieve the throwing blades and hang them back on his belt. As he did this, his expression was utterly calm.

A few minutes later, he disappeared from the spot and walked into the forest.

Several minutes later, a wild beast, drawn by the scent and sound, twitched its nostrils in confusion and wandered around for a long time. Finding nothing, it had no choice but to leave and head deeper into the forest.

Half a day later, a giant in black armor cautiously arrived at the scene. He didn't know what had happened, but the winged sword emblem in his hand provided him with guidance.

He dug an Aquila emblem out of the soil.

--

"Oh, the wheel of fortune is turning, the wheel of fortune is turning—"

From the deepest reaches of the ceaseless tide of Chaos, a voice, filled with joy, resounded. Many ripples were born from it, becoming nightmares, some weak, some powerful.

Once they were born, they couldn't wait to rush out of this vast ocean, begin to learn how to stir up waves, and rack their brains to try to reach the material world.

The owner of the voice only needed a thought to turn these monsters created by it back into slaves without their own will, but it did not do so; instead, it enthusiastically encouraged them.

In return, the nightmares told it everything they had done without reservation.

"Very good, very good!" The voice turned into a burst of laughter. "You all did very well, but you can improve a bit more, and perhaps a little more creativity?"

"Don't limit yourself to the fate of just one person. You can weave threads to intertwine and connect their destinies. How about starting the disaster with an insignificant beggar?"

"Let his parents die, let him roam the streets. Let him starve to death, let his body be devoured by wild dogs—he never felt any kindness, did he? When he died, his heart was filled with hatred."

Its loud laughter turned into a snicker, as if it were delighted at something that was about to happen.

It didn't continue, but those nightmares who thought they had gained its approval rushed to plan their arrival in the material world, recklessly pushing forward the story it described, turning possibility into inevitability.

It sounds alarming, but it's actually just a form of entertainment.

"Hmph, hmph, hmph."

It hummed softly, sounding quite pleased, and even took the lead in greeting a drifting purple cloud, its tone playful.

"Hi, little sister," it said with a grin. "Has your injury healed?"

A beautiful form in the clouds let out a long, languid sigh and stretched out an arm that had been restored to its original state from the mist. A flash of silver light appeared, and a wisp of silver mist quietly condensed, beginning to observe the slender hand.

Its skin, as smooth as jade, its muscles, delicate yet full of vitality, and its slender fingers were all captured. Finally, the voice in the silver mist answered itself with great satisfaction.

"You've recovered very well. But you probably want to do it again?"

"No," the figure in the purple clouds denied with a wistful tone. "It's not the right time yet. He's not worthy of the pleasure of cutting through my flesh."

"I'll do my best to make him qualified!" Silver Mist shouted. "You don't need to worry about that at all, sister!"

Call me that again.

Silver Mist chuckled and changed the subject, "The wheel of fate has already begun to turn, my dear. Don't you even have the patience to wait a little longer?"

A cold snort came from the purple clouds, "Stop with the riddles. The play you promised still hasn't started, and I'm getting impatient, you know that. I only have patience for a select few, so you'd better bring me what you promised as soon as possible. Otherwise, our alliance is null and void."

The silver mist surged for a moment, then cast a hazy flash of light. In the light, the deep green Caliban gradually appeared.

"Don't be impatient, my brother, my sister," Silver Mist changed her tone, advising in an elder's voice. "You will get what you want, I promise."

His words elicited a surprised question from within the purple clouds. Immediately afterward, the clouds dispersed, revealing a shimmering, alluring eye, filled with curiosity and wariness.

"You didn't actually give that mortal a way to change time, did you?"

Silver Mist burst into laughter at this.