Chapter 176

Everything froze.

The lava, the flames, the heat…perhaps even time itself.

The magma that had been surging upward with ferocious momentum only moments ago lost all motion, becoming a still life.

It hardened into black, frigid stone, transforming into huge pillars as if they had existed there from the very beginning.

However, this was only a temporary measure.

A volcanic eruption occurs when gases dissolved in magma boil up, much like shaking a bottle of carbonated water.

Even if the outflowing magma were frozen and the opening sealed, the pressure would inevitably seek another escape and erupt elsewhere.

Thus, the clash between Winter Winslet and the grand magic of the lava explosion ended in a draw.

But when it came to a battle between mage and mage, it was a different story.

The Hound of Venizelos, shocked that the grand magic he had prepared with every ounce of his ability over the past week had been blocked, lost his will to fight.

“This is… quite something… beyond my expectations…”

His speech was slow and labored.

He was dying.

The ice spear I had created and thrown earlier was embedded in his abdomen, but the truth was that his impending death was largely his own doing.

Sssss……

All over his body, clumps of magma clung to him, charring and melting his flesh black.

After detonating lava in such an enclosed space, there was no way he could have escaped unscathed.

“To unleash a grand spell like that without even considering your own safety. What were you thinking? Were you planning to take me down with you from the start?”

“As I told you, I intended to recruit you into our organization. I had no intention of killing you.”

It made a certain twisted sense.

Even if that so-called “recruitment” meant taking only my head and turning the rest of me into a half-dead corpse.

“And the reason I failed to evade the lava in time…”

“…was because I was utterly captivated by your beautiful mana.”

Was this some kind of confession attack?

Praise like that coming from an old man did nothing to please me.

And then he immediately added—

“That beautiful cold was clearly not something human. Did your mother, by any chance, lie with a demon and give birth to you?”

“……”

This bastard.

That’s a remarkably creative insult.

“So you’re saying I’m a demon’s bastard?”

“No. That’s not what I mean. I’m speaking quite literally. I’m genuinely curious. If it wasn’t a demon your mother slept with, then perhaps a demigod… or a spirit that had reached a similar realm…”

“Shut your mouth.”

I had no intention of indulging the insults of a defeated man any further.

Slandering someone’s deceased mother by implying she had some kind of exotic sexual proclivities. There were limits.

“Do you really want to die?”

Of course, he was already in the process of dying.

Yet even as his life ebbed away, there was no fear or terror in his eyes.

It wasn’t the composure of someone who had transcended death.

Rather, it was the indifference of someone who regarded his own life as a disposable, single-use tool.

I clicked my tongue and asked,

“That body of yours…an extra life?”

“A vessel created to steal Venizelos’s secret spells. That madman is famous for trusting no disciple unless they share his blood. He only accepts those who submit to the taboo of soul destruction as members of his school, so I had no choice but to use such a method.”

“But taboos act on the soul, don’t they? Swapping out the body shouldn’t let you avoid that.”

“Ah, the magic I use is a little special, you see. By dying and reviving physically several times, washing the soul in the process, the taboo gradually becomes diluted. It’s an ancient method, with a few side effects… but it is also one way to achieve the physical transcendence Venizelos so desperately desires.”

His pupils rolled as he slowly looked me over.

Soon, he let out a low hum, as if he’d realized something.

“Aha. Now I understand why this interests you. Come to think of it, there’s a taboo placed upon your soul as well.”

“A taboo?”

“Yes. A very large and powerful one is bound to your soul. This happens to be my area of expertise, so I can tell.”

A taboo placed upon Winter Winslet’s soul?

It made no sense.

If it were truly something so large and powerful, there was no way I wouldn’t have noticed it myself.

As if reading my thoughts, he added,

“It’s because it was finished with such exquisite skill. And if the taboo was engraved when you were very young, it’s possible you wouldn’t feel it at all.”

Somehow… it feels familiar.

Didn’t what he was saying sound exactly like grabbing a random passerby on the street and telling them they’re possessed by dark energy, that terrible misfortune will strike unless they hurry up and perform a ritual to cleanse it?

“Trying to scam me, are you?”

When I looked at him suspiciously, the Hound of Venizelos explained himself.

“A taboo is, in the end, like a leash fastened to prevent certain actions. Disobey, and the leash tightens, choking you. There is always a pattern to it. That is why one can suspect whether a taboo has been placed upon oneself.”

“A pattern?”

“Look for unnatural phenomena that never happen to others but always happen to you. For example, you might trip the moment you make direct eye contact with someone, or suffer headaches if you don’t return before sunset, or encounter nothing but bad luck whenever you gamble. Most taboos manifest in such ways.”

“Hmm.”

“Have you truly never experienced anything like that? Not even once?”

I couldn’t honestly say no.

In fact, there was far too much of it. One thing in particular was still ongoing even now.

Whenever Winter Winslet uses mana, his heart comes under strain.

Just earlier, after expending a massive amount of mana to freeze the erupting lava, my chest immediately began to feel tight and constricted.

This was a phenomenon seen in no other mage. It was something unique to Winter Winslet alone.

My father, Count Winslet, had said it was a hereditary disease passed down through the Winslet bloodline.

But what if this was actually a form of taboo, as the Hound of Venizelos claimed?

I asked,

“Can a taboo be passed down through generations?”

“All humans are connected as one body with their mother until the moment of birth. Thus, if a taboo is placed upon the mother’s soul, there are cases where it is inherited by the child.”

“Then what about cases where it continues within a family for hundreds of years?”

“Hmm… I’ve never heard of such an example. If one did exist, I’d very much like to study it myself… Could this be your story? How about joining our Knowledge Liberation Front and becoming my very first research subject?”

“No. Now get lost.”

Figures.

It was obvious he was making up whatever he could, saying anything and everything just to drag me into their little organization.

I nearly fell for his honeyed words.

Deciding to neatly erase the scammer’s ramblings from my mind, I finished off the man who was now little more than a corpse that could barely produce a voice and cut off his last breath.

Then I turned away.

It was time to leave the lord’s castle before the lava erupted again.

[Casting Camille’s Mountain Shatter spell.]

Baaaang!

When I used a tunnel-digging spell, one entire side of the Winslet lord’s castle was completely dismantled and collapsed.

Due to an unknown awakening, the quantity and quality of my mana were now so unstable that controlling them properly was difficult.

Judging by the standards of the Candela Judgement, it was at a superhuman level, and perhaps even SS-rank which was beyond the limits of humanity.

Outside the castle, an awkward, half-choked sky where volcanic ash had begun to spread, and a townscape that felt strangely empty now that the castle walls were gone, stretched out before me.

As I wandered aimlessly down the hill, I spotted Sir Joseph standing watch outside a collapsed private home and approached him.

“Sir Joseph.”

“Young master…ah… you’re safe. Then that means!”

“The enemy mage is dead.”

“Young master has won!”

Overcome with emotion, Joseph dropped to both knees and offered a prayer.

Then he bowed his head deeply toward me.

“Thank goodness. When the castle exploded with that tremendous noise, I truly felt despair.”

“In the end, we couldn’t protect the lord’s castle.”

“It’s destroyed… and burning as well. The same goes for you and the Count, but that place also held many memories of you and the young lady.”

“The present matters more than the past.”

It’s not like I said this because I couldn’t remember any of those memories.

Really.

“For now, let’s focus on taking Father and returning to where Anna is.”

“Yes, you’re right. As long as people are safe, a castle can collapse and be rebuilt any number of times.”

With a resolute expression, Sir Joseph made that vow and led me to a nearby civilian stable.

He said that was where he had tied the horses we’d ridden from Maronford City to this place.

“I didn’t even tie them up separately; I just let them roam free. They grazed and rested on their own, and when I came back, they showed up by themselves.”

“Horses really are intelligent animals.”

“If we ride these, we should be able to reach the defensive base Miss Anna headed for. Once the Count awakens and recovers, we’ll depart immediately.”

“Alright.”

“By the way, are you all right, young master? You’ve looked pale for a while now.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. Were you perhaps injured during the battle?”

“I just used a bit too much mana, so I’m exhausted. If I rest for a day or two—”

As I was saying that, my breath suddenly caught in my throat.

It was because of the throbbing pain spreading through my chest.

It was far stronger than any chest pain I’d felt before.

It felt like being slashed by something sharp.

If I relaxed my focus even for a moment, it felt as though my heart might split cleanly in two.

“Joseph.”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

“I think I need to mount a horse and leave immediately.”

“Huh?”

“I’m going back to the capital.”

The pain was unbearable.

I needed to meet Rose Bly right away and have this condition treated.

But how many days does it take to get back to the capital from here?

Because of the pain, my thoughts wouldn’t come together properly.

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to rein it in, when I heard someone urgently calling my name.

When I came to my senses, Joseph was shaking my shoulders.

“Young master, young master!”

“What is it.”

“An enemy.”

“An enemy?”

I’d just finished off Venizelos’s Hound and there was another enemy already?

I struggled to lift my head and look ahead, and then I understood why Joseph had said that.

Someone was standing in our path, pouring killing intent toward us.

It was dense enough that even I, my consciousness wavering from the pain, could clearly feel it.

And the face was one I knew all too well.

[Notification]

[A death flag has been raised by this character.]

Yellow eyes like those of a crocodile, black, disheveled hair.

A sharp, menacing-looking figure.

“…Monastrell?”

Why did this woman follow us all the way out here?