Chapter 94

At the gates of Gazaria Castle. To prevent the rebels from the inland of Gazaria from escaping, several times the usual number of soldiers had gathered here, ready to launch a surprise attack from behind at the opportune moment.

At this boundary dividing the inside and outside of Gazaria, there had yet to be any clashes between the units. No blood had been spilled, no ground stained by the clash of elves or humans and elves.

However, this place was undoubtedly a battlefield. Just like the street in front of the palace, it presented the appearance of a blood-soaked battlefield.

---Gieaaaaaaah!

The sound alone seemed to drag the livers of the soldiers present. The magic, capable of killing small animals with its sheer volume, was a demon.

A demon beast resembling an ape, yet with a large mouth on its belly, stood as the enemy of all here.

Its appearance was too terrifying. It seemed to have been created with some intent, yet it was undoubtedly a failure. Demon beasts were often born in such forms.

The scene was impossible, something no one had even imagined. A demon beast attacking Gazaria, its castle gates, was something no one had experienced in hundreds of years, perhaps even longer.

The captain in charge of guarding the castle gates felt his insides boiling with rage and frustration. Why, why now, he wondered.

"Fire! Don't let the arrows run out! If we hold out here, reinforcements will come eventually!"

Encouraged by these words, arrows rained down on the ape-like demon beast with great speed.

In truth, the captain himself well understood that no reinforcements would come.

At the palace, Fin Largias and Eldis were engaged in a decisive battle. The troops at the castle gates were supposed to sharpen their fangs to deliver the final blow in the war.

But what was the reality? Their momentum was stolen by a single demon beast, and they were struggling just to prevent the gate from being breached. Even if they sought reinforcements, those forces were engaged in a more important battle. There was no way they would come.

However, the sheer number of soldiers gathered to guard the castle gates was more than enough. They were undoubtedly holding the demon beast at bay. The captain's eyes narrowed, and his ragged breath began to steady.

It was true that they were being thrown around by every move of the demon beast. Every time its powerful arms swung, the surrounding trees were snapped, and with every scream, lives were extinguished. It was not an opponent they could face head-on.

But if they could use the castle gates as a shield and suppress it with projectiles, the situation was different.

Again, at the command, arrows filled the sky and rained down on the demon beast's body. Many were deflected like twigs when the demon beast swung its arms, but they were beginning to catch it.

It should be possible to hold it down. The captain nodded, as if convincing himself.

However, why was the demon beast so excited? The captain and the soldiers, who watched the beast from the castle gates, found this strange.

It was not uncommon to encounter demon beasts in the forest, but most of them only threatened and rarely attacked with such excitement. But now, it seemed to be drawn to the castle gates as if by something.

The soldiers' noses twitched slightly. Someone must have been drinking, as the smell of wine was strong.

---Gie! Gieaaaaaaah!

The repeated ape-like cries shook the surrounding trees and lives, and even made the earth groan.

But the soldiers' responses were quick, as if they were already resigned to a futile struggle. They readied their bows and arrows for the next command.

Only the captain was sweating profusely.

That voice was different from the others.

It was not a threatening cry, nor one that tried to blow them away. Rather, it seemed to be a voice meant to resonate and convey something.

It was just a premonition, a fleeting thought that ran through his mind, but it felt like the truth.

Gradually, the faces of the elven soldiers began to pale. One by one, those who noticed the scene began to fill their eyes with shock and despair.

In the forest, they could see ape-like demon beasts gathering at the castle gates, as if drawn by the great ape's cries. A clear sense of unease began to spread among the soldiers.

The great ape, which had targeted Gazaria, did not miss this opportunity. Its massive body shook, and it leaped, pounding the ground strongly. Its large body soared through the air.

In its malevolent eyes, the solid castle gates were no longer the target, but the seemingly vulnerable city beyond.

◇◆◇◆

I want a heavy rain. At least enough to obscure the enemy's vanguard and make them hesitate.

Repeating these words of Ruis in his mind, Fialart muttered in his brain that he was asking for the impossible.

He had long suspected that Ruis thought magic was a convenient tool that could do anything. In reality, it was the opposite.

Magic was nothing more than a means to alter the structure of the world by a mere fingertip. While it could create fire in a place that seemed empty, it was just as easy to buy flint to start a fire. It was convenient but far from omnipotent.

Fialart knew this well, understood it to the point of nausea. He had tasted bitter suffering and seen the backs of those who surpassed him as an ordinary talent.

Originally, making it rain, let alone a heavy rain, was not within the realm of reason. Thousands of magicians would undoubtedly declare it impossible.

But Fialart accepted the task. He took it on with a calm assurance, as if saying, "Leave it to me."

Cold sweat dripped from his insides, and his throat felt constricted. He could feel the tension and frustration crawling up his spine.

He did not want to show an unseemly appearance. He did not want to disappoint Ruis's expectations. He did not want to be abandoned. This feeling was indeed in Fialart's heart. The reason he had stepped forward was undoubtedly a feeling close to dependency.

But now, there was a premonition in his chest.

Just like when he had fused the treasure sword with Ruis and brought him back to life. The feeling of twisting reason and making the world itself submit, the thought that if his magic and spirit were fully charged, he could recreate that sensation, was in his chest.

Then, now. Now, he had to catch up.

Magic gathered at his fingertips. Controlling the weather, a large-scale natural phenomenon, was something he had never heard of or imagined. Therefore, he had no idea what form or array the magic should take.

Perhaps that was why, naturally, Fialart raised his hands to the sky. His hands, which were always so ordinary, were now as heavy as lead.

He had always thought this. Fialart's black eyes flickered.

Karia, who wielded a silver longsword and showed superhuman decisiveness, was undoubtedly a genius.

The brilliance of each swing of her sword, her cold and ruthless decisiveness, and her ability to act ahead of ordinary people. Any of these qualities were enough to declare her an exceptional talent.

And Matia, the holy maiden. She was a commander of the emblem believers and possessed a charisma close to worship. Her presence, which captivated the hearts of people, was something that could not be imitated.

He had always felt it. I alone have nothing. Even if I force myself to accompany Ruis, I remain an ordinary person.

I don't want this. If I continue like this, I will be left behind, and in the end, Ruis will abandon me. This fear had gradually taken over his heart. He did not want this at all.

Ruis decided that lead would be used to contain him. Then, I must follow. I must turn myself, Fialart, into gold to be worthy of standing beside him.

With this thought, he accepted the seemingly impossible request.

However, no matter how much he refined his magic, he could not come up with a convenient spell to make it rain heavily. Time was running out. The enemy vanguard might already be within sight. Frustration burned his throat, and his teeth gnashed.

Ah, this is it. No matter how much an ordinary person shows determination, the world will never show interest. The world only opens its arms to heroes and brave warriors.

---How hateful. How maddening. Yes, the world has no interest in me.

If that is the truth, then there is only one path left.

The impossible magic theory he had once conceived. The concept that defied reason. The world's values that ignored precedent. If the world has no interest in me, then I must transform the world itself.

Now, in his mind, an unknown part of himself took up a pen. The pen wrote on the parchment of his mind, unknown magic structures and impossible magic theories.

Ah, yes, this feeling. Not being confined by existing things. The pleasure of rewriting the world with his own hands. The refreshing feeling of breaking free from the heavy iron that had held him down.

Now, a new magic formed here, depicted in Fialart's black eyes. A few horse lengths ahead, the vanguard of the enemy forces was visible.

"---Pierce the sky. Flood, shatter the world and bring it here!"

With a crack, Fialart heard something shatter in his mind. He did not know what it was.

But the magic was indeed accomplished here.

It was not a heavy rain. It was a torrent, a wave that violently engulfed the enemy vanguard.

Fialart La Borgograd. At this moment, a piece of the lead that covered her body peeled off, revealing a unmistakable golden glow within.