The Miasma of Death looks like dusk from afar.
The Miasma of Death took on many colors as the sun rose in the morning. But moments before the sunlight begins to shine through the yellow wall, the entire miasma looks bloody red.
It was a terrible sight to behold, as if half the world was covered in blood.
“…”
One man stood atop a lonely crow’s nest as he watched the approaching rumored mist covering the world in most horrible red.
“Is that the unforetold Calamity? The unforetold Calamity seems even more fearsome and overwhelming then the foretold ones.”
The man wore an ordinary Adventurer’s outfit.
But behind him were dozens of ships of the Human Imperial Fleet flying in orderly military formation.
The identity of the man was the Emperor of the Human Empire.
William Quinton Marlboro
His gaze was fixed upon a spire rising out of the land completely dyed bloody red.
Ixion.
A legendary city of mages said to have been built in one day and destroyed in one.
Most of the buildings had been swept away by an inexplicable disaster, but there were still a few buildings left. In ten days’ time, a conference between the world’s leaders to determine the fate of the world was to be held in one of them.
The initiator of such a gathering was an old friend named Sungchul, also known as the Enemy of the World.
“What is your command?”
Many generals and admirals were waiting for his command.
“Will you destroy Ixion?”
“…”
The Emperor never hesitated in his decisions.
He carefully considered every possibility in establishing a policy. And once he arrived at a decision on a course of action, he was quick to implement them.
But at this moment, even the mighty Emperor was hesitating in making the call.
‘Why am I acting like this? Me of all people.’
He didn’t think he was a man who could be swayed by petty emotions.
He had lived his entire life eliminating anything that presented an obstacle.
It was not any different right now.
There was no alternative but to destroy Ixion.
He had to do it before the Wandering King of the Holy Kingdom of Ruteginea could finally reveal his cards at the conference.
The seeds of chaos sown by the Wanderer King decades ago were quietly germinating in the darkness and biding their time. Now that the world was descending into chaos and turmoil, these unseen machinations were finally coming out from hiding and threatening the Emperor.
‘First, when the conference begins, the Wandering King will publicly demand his seat.’
The military and the new nobility sided with the Emperor, but the Imperial Council and local lords of the surrounding provinces had been subtly expressing their rejection of an Emperor of Summoned origin.
When half of the Imperial Fleet, which had been the backbone the Empire, were vaporized by the Lesser Gods that had appeared in the vassal states, the Emperor’s position became highly unstable.
Movements condemning his incompetence and mistakes began in earnest, and radical opinions advocating forcefully deposing the Emperor gained support.
The Emperor was fully aware.
He was aware that left as it was, everything would flow according to the Wandering King’s will.
What the Emperor needed was time.
Time to find a new source of power, something to replace the role the imperial fleet had been playing, to turn the Empire into a permanent nation.
In order to buy such time, the conference had to be postponed by any means necessary.
And for that end, the Emperor ordered the surviving ships of the Imperial Fleet to converge on Ixion.
However, for some reason, the Emperor hesitated.
“…”
Why? The Emperor wondered.
What was making him hesitate?
He was briefly reminded of the face of his old friend, Sungchul Kim.
‘Is it because of him?’
But that thought was gone as quickly as it came.
What made the Emperor hesitate was not Sungchul, but rather the memory of his own past self, who had boldly and bravely expressed his thoughts to Sungchul.
“I see,”
The Emperor muttered gravely.
Deep in his jewel-like shining blue eyes, his past self who once had confidently spoke his mind before the Enemy of the World, was looking back at him.
“If it were me back then, I wouldn’t have resorted to such petty methods.”
The Emperor lowered his head to think for a moment before raising his head and turned around, swirling his cloak.
Once the Emperor showed his face, thousands of soldiers lined up behind him bowed their heads to salute him.
“To all ships of the Imperial Fleet,” said the Emperor in a sonorous voice.
“Return to La Grange.”
Dozens of ships turned their helm around and flew towards the west, leaving the blood-red eastern skies behind.
The survivors of Ixion, who had been hiding in the shadowy parts of the desolate earth, anxiously followed the withdrawal of the Imperial Fleet with their eyes.
“The Imperial bastards are retreating.”
“Someone, go inform McRaed. The Empire has withdrawn and Ixion is safe.”
There was a great deal of activity in the burrows. But among the hundreds of busy partisans, only one person stood still, staring blankly at the residual image of the withdrawing Imperial Fleet.
The person was none other than Ahmuge.
She, who had run away from Nimpas, was quietly waiting at the other end of the continent for something.
“History has changed. Once again.”
It wasn’t surprising anymore.
The flow of history was already greatly changed from where she had come from, and specific differences were beginning to arise.
But there was one thing that remained unchanged despite everything.
“…”
Ahmuge stared at the dagger at her fingertips.
Swoosh.
She pulled the dagger out of the sheath.
The dull black blade completely lacked any sheen, as if it was made of the darkness of night itself.
“He’s dangerous after all.”
Sungchul was the Black Giant.
He possessed the potential to destroy the world at any time.
Even though he turned out to be different from what she had thought, it was impossible to change the essence of someone.
He was the Black Giant.
“I won’t run or hide anymore.”
As she put the dark blade back into the sheath, Ahmuge merged into the busy crowd.
*
After finishing up with the Order of Extinction, Sungchul soon came to the realization that Sylphid was nowhere to be found.
The order given by Sungchul to Carbungbung was to be out at sea, but remain within visual range.
However, Sylphid’s whereabouts were currently unknown.
Although Sungchul did feel that this result was an inevitable result of the Order of Extinction prowling around murderously in search of him, it nevertheless left him in a pinch.
Not only could he no longer make use of the long range teleportation Tigon Bosborot had promised, he was now down one precious Soul Gem.
It goes without saying that the loss of Sylphid was also not something he had wanted, after he had put effort and time into customizing it.
Sungchul decided to search the nearby area first.
“Leave the reconnaissance to me, Destroyer!”
Marakia, who suddenly became a fervent follower of Sungchul, flapped his wings and flew ahead.
“What’s up with him? “
Bertelgia muttered while watching Marakia from behind.
“Seems he has a conscience.”
“But for how long?”
“…”
Sungchul could not answer Bertelgia’s question.
After about the time to drink a cup of tea passed, Marakia returned to where Sungchul was.
“I found a living human! Destroyer!”
Sungchul and Bertelgia followed Marakia into the forest.
Lo and behold, there was smell of rotten flesh accompanying the sound of someone’s groans somewhere in the forest.
“Ugh.. ugh…!”
A man was tied to a frame that the Order of Extinction had abandoned.
It was none other than the Inquisitor Tigon Bosborot.
The Order of Extinction had captured him, tortured him severely, and left him hanging to rot.
“······.”
Sungchul’s party stared at Tigon’s terrible state, covered in flies and maggots.
“Are you still alive?”
Sungchul asked Tigon.
“Of course I’m alive!”
Tigon replied vehemently.
He still seemed alive and kicking.
Sungchul ordered Marakia to untie Tigon.
“Acknowledged! You can depend on the repentant Marakia with things like this!”
Marakia, who suddenly began to show excessive displays of loyalty, flew impetuously towards Tigon and strung together complex and delicate magic to unravel the rope holding Tigon up.
“…”
But perhaps Marakia was too rushed to show his skills.
Tigon fell forward once released from his bonds and fell head first into a large boulder and collapsed.
“Urk…!”
Tigon normally wouldn’t have been seriously hurt by this level of impact. But he was currently gravely weakened by extreme torture and neglect. There was a gristly sound of something shattering and Tigon went rigid.
“What the heck?”
Marakia’s beaks and eyes opened wide in this unexpected development.
Tigon Bosborot had passed away.
He was 57 years old.
He had lived a tumulus and eventful life.
However, Tigon had an uncommon ability not many possessed.
His dead body seemed to radiate golden light until he abruptly jumped to his feet like a zombie.
“Oh~! Blessed be, great God of Order! Glory shall be in your name, o’ guardian of mankind!”
Just like other Inquisitors, Tigon had the ability to resurrect.
Anyways, due to the effect of resurrection, the ugly scars from the harsh torture disappeared without a trace.
His face that had been dirty with blood stains, was restored to its original state.
It was such a perfect recovery that it would not have been strange if Tigon would have chosen his own death without a hesitation if Marakia hadn’t beaten him to the punch.
Tigon brushed off the maggots that were still clinging onto him as if dusting himself off and picked up his clothing that had been discarded on the ground to put on as if he was just going about his normal day.
Once he was dressed back in his clothes, he directed his gaze back towards Sungchul and company.
“Why were you so late?”
“…”
No one was able to respond at first.
Finally, it was Bertelgia who broke the silence by flapping her pages as she flew above Sungchul’s head muttering,
“I hate it…”
“What? What do you hate, Living Book?”
Tigon asked Bertelgia with the most sincere, uncorrupted glean to his eyes, unspoiled by ulterior motives.
Sungchul finally opened his mouth to speak.
“What had happened?”
After being expelled from the dungeon by Aegehios, Tigon soon discovered members of the Order of Extinction in the area.
After several failed attempts to re-enter the dungeon, he changed his focus to the Order of Extinction to carry out his duty as Inquisitor; to purge the heretics.
But once realizing just how much force the Order of Extinction was bringing to bear, he ordered his subordinates to retreat back to Sylphid before acting as bait to give them a chance to slip away.
And that was how the events led up to Tigon busily explaining his story to Sungchul and others in the present moment.
“What a persistent human.”
Marakia expressed his surprise.
“I have died five times in fact.”
Tigon proclaimed proudly.
“But a true acolyte of god like I cannot be truly slain until I am killed nine times.”
“Are you a cat!”
Bertelgia quipped back immediately.
Tigon glared at Bertelgia but noticed Sungchul beyond her and soon averted his gaze.
But that did not stop him from finishing what he wanted to say.
“But I had my faith that you would defeat them. And with this newest sequence of events, I have certainty now that you are not on the same side as the Order of Extinction.”
Sungchul asked Tigon as to the location of Sylphid.
Sylphid was indeed sent far over the ocean to the west.
Tigon walked over to a boulder not too far from the torture rack he was hung from before returning with a communication crystal.
“I had hidden this before I was captured by the Order of Extinction.”
He used the crystal to establish contact with Sylphid far out at sea.
Perhaps the distance was too great, there was difficulty establishing connection. But once the sun reached its zenith, the connection had improved enough to finally relay information and communicate.
[ We will head there immediately.]
Tigon’s subordinate priest replied in a calm tone.
Looking at Tigon, Sungchul felt the man was not all that bad of a leader.
‘There are not many leaders left in this era who would sacrifice himself for his subordinates.’
Although Tigon himself did not know, Sungchul’s evaluation of Tigon went up a notch.
Sylphid seemed to have gone excessively far away. According to Tigon’s subordinate, it would take half a day to return.
Though it was possible to get back immediately through teleportation, the idea was discarded since there was a possibility that they won’t be able to reach Ixion later because they depleted all their energy already.
While waiting for Sylphid, Sungchul prepared a meal for the first time in a while.
Though they were at sea, Sungchul chose not to use seafood.
After all, only recently did the people Aege drown enmasse at sea nearby. Their recently departed, restless souls still lingered here.
After a brief moment of silence in mourning for the people of Aege who had lost their lives senselessly by the machinations of Order of Extinction, Sungchul prepared a meal using a pig that had escaped from a nearby abandoned pigsty.
He gathered a great abundance of ingredients. A large pig was slaughtered, and its blood and organs were removed before he went about removing the hairs.
After all, this was not only for he but also for Tigon’s subordinates riding aboard Sylphid.
Having nothing but time on his hands Sungchul decided on a dish that was rather time-consuming, which he typically avoided
He gathered around bricks that were scattered all over the place and built an igloo-shaped kiln, filled it with charcoal and firewood, then lit the fire.
Until the kiln grew hot enough for the bricks to start glowing red inside, Sungchul prepared the meat and added wine and spice he gathered from the nearby.
Once he finished marinating the meat, Sungchul placed the meat on top of rectangular metal plates, removed all the fuel and ash from the kiln, and placed the plate with the meat in its place. The entrance to the furnace was also blocked off with a suitably sized metal plate.
“How will the meat cook that way?”
Tigon, who was watching from the side with a grave expression, criticized Sungchul’s cooking.
“It shall.”
Sungchul answered briefly before searching for other things to eat along with the meat.
He discovered a sack of flour in an abandoned farm.
Sungchul knead the flour into dough before flattening it and cooking it in a separate fire pit he had prepared.
Around sun down, a black spot appeared in the evening sky.
It was Sylphid.
Sungchul who had been sitting down and resting sent Marakia to guide Sylphid to where they were.
“Leave this to Marakia-nim!”
Eventually, Sylphid safely arrived above them. Once Tigon’s subordinates disembarked and reached the land, Sungchul removed the metal plates blocking the kiln.
“It couldn’t have been cooked properly.”
Tigon expressed his doubts at Sungchul’s cooking once more, but he soon shut his mouth tightly.
From the kiln emerged the most wonderous meat he’s ever seen, cooked to perfection and bursting with succulence in the most tantalizingly tempting appearance.
“Please eat.”
Sungchul took enough meat and bread for him to eat and left.
Even if Sungchul was considered an ally, he was still the Enemy of the World; save Tigon, Sungchul knew that his presence was overbearing for an ordinary person so he left out of his consideration for them.
So, he found himself a good spot with a great view and took a bite of his food.
[The score of this dish is 72 points.]
[It’s a not-bad dish. However, it is unbefitting of one with the title of Master Chef.]
The assessment of the Diamond Broach continued as usual.
Staring at the dissatisfying score shown before him, he took out his secret weapon from his Soul Storage.
It was the Stardust Sugar.
The meat was coated all over with Stardust Sugar before he took a bite.
A different message appeared before him.
[ The score of this dish is 100,322! ]
[ It’s a perfect dish! ]
“All I’ve done is deliver a sack of sugar in your mouth.”
Sungchul had a bitter grin as he looked to the west towards the setting sun with unemotional eyes.
Among the darkening skies, the stars began to reveal themselves one by one.
It was an ordinary night sky he had seen every night.
Sungchul put another piece of meat in his mouth and thought to himself while chewing.
‘But I shall see a different sky tomorrow.’
Sungchul thought of the yellow sky.
Of the corrupted sky, filled with the all-consuming Miasma of Death.
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“After all, this was not only for he but also for Tigon’s subordinates riding aboard Sylphid.”
he >>> him/them*