Chapter 311
“The moment Bael began to systematically wipe out other forces, our fight grew even fiercer. The air was always thick with the smell of blood, and flies and crows were having a feast.”
The death of a figure symbolizing an era sent shockwaves throughout the world.
Following the magician, Bael began to lead his disciples and churn out red monsters—Altife—at an alarming rate, and the damage skyrocketed each year.
They shouted.
—Kill the traitors!
—Let the blood of the traitors flow!
Then came the sudden suicide of the magician. Unable to solve the mystery, those who trusted and followed her turned their arrows of rage towards the opposing forces.
The last line written in the scripture became a spark that ignited with ferocity.
The world had to endure suffering greater than before.
“Every day, while I continued my research on the scripture and magic, I also protected the people, sharing my mana as payment. They weren’t fighting for me—they fought to protect themselves and their loved ones.”
“You really used that well. Shouting for justice and peace while committing murder is a tactic that works in any age.”
“…That wasn’t my intention. Anyway, when the war was reaching its peak, I found myself in a duel with Bael.”
When Schugenhartz said he confronted Bael directly, Vargan feigned surprise.
Having seen Bael in person, he understood just how overwhelming his power was.
“It’s surprising you could achieve enough to face Bael.”
“I borrowed the power of the scripture. Even so… Bael was incredibly strong. Halfway through the battle, I gave up on killing him.”
“Giving up on killing means you chose to ‘seal’ him, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. Sealing him was far easier for me than trying to kill him for hundreds or even thousands of years.”
‘…Is that so? Bael was sealed after his fierce battle with Schugenhartz, unlike other Altife who were imprisoned.’
Vargan nodded as if he understood.
Schugenhartz, who was continuing his words, suddenly frowned as if a headache struck him. After pressing his temple with his thumb, he finally relaxed his expression.
“Sorry, I had a momentary headache.”
“Is it a side effect of the scripture?”
“Not exactly… well, it’s not entirely wrong.”
Schugenhartz let out a weak chuckle.
“As you might guess, when sealing Bael, I had to pour all my energy into it. I had to rely heavily on both my mana and the power of the scripture.”
“It was possible, but when sealing Bael, I had to pour all my strength into it. I had to borrow a massive amount of power from both my mana and the Scripture.”
“That makes sense.”
“I was practically in a state of unconsciousness. I was so focused on sealing Bael that I poured everything I had into it. I’d already fallen into a state of mana deficiency.”
The headache seemed to stem from the brain’s recollection of the shock and pain experienced back then.
Restoring memories wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows.
“…So, after barely managing to seal Bael, I was able to see the Scripture he was holding. The only reason I know every detail of Shalom’s life is thanks to that.”
Reading the stories of Shalom, the Scripture, and the ensuing tale of Bael, Schugenharz saw the Scripture as something that needed to be destroyed.
If it had never come into the world in the first place, such a tragedy wouldn’t have happened.
He was certain that whoever possessed the Scripture in the future would repeat the same tragedy. With that conviction, he immediately took action, even at the cost of his own life.
However, the Scripture was hardly damaged.
Though he could tear some pages, they would soon regenerate, it wouldn’t burn, and even pouring molten lava over it wouldn’t leave a scorch mark.
Eventually, Schugenharz had to resort to his last-ditch effort.
“Huuh…”
He exhaled deeply, wiping his face.
He said he still regretted that choice. No matter how little time he had left, he should have taken a bit more time to proceed slowly.
Recalling the card he held at that time, Vargan asked casually, “Could it be that you collided with the Scripture you were holding?”
Just like summoning the Academia during the campaign against Gamigin.
He wondered if they shared the same blood, hence why they attempted the same plan.
“To be exact, I extracted the maximum power from both the blue and purple Scriptures before they collided. What I wanted was not just to damage the purple Scripture but to completely erase the existence of the Scripture itself.”
Schugenharz remarked that during the fight with Bael, the Scriptures interacted in such a way that they could create a shockwave.
Despite being in terrible pain from mana deficiency and severe injuries, he showed the best possible move he could make to eliminate the Scripture.
However, the result didn’t turn out to be as desirable.
“The collision of the two Scriptures resulted in the loss of all pages.”
“Loss of all pages? Then didn’t that go as you wished?”
“…Not quite. As I mentioned, the undamaged Scripture regenerates its pages. And… the completely removed pages vanish from history.”
“Vanishing from history… Ah, I see how it was.”
There was hardly any information about Goddess Shalom and the Demon King in the original text.
It felt unnaturally as if someone had deliberately removed it.
With a satisfied smile as his long-held doubts were resolved, Vargan said, “Though all the records inscribed in the Scripture were removed, the remaining fragments and the malice of those left behind combined to create an entirely new narrative. That’s how it can be interpreted.”
Though memories of Schugenharz and Bael using the Scripture were probably faintly retained, Vargan, who had previously erased Erika’s memories, knew better.
Vargan, who had a history of directly erasing Kai’s memory, understood.
It was impossible to erase only specific memories accurately.
Other memories connected to that memory would also be affected, resulting in a chain reaction that effectively caused it to vanish from history.
“What happened after that?”
In response to Vargan’s question, Schugenharz gazed into the distance before answering.
“I ended up dead.”
“So you really died. I figured that much.”
“Aren’t you going to mourn for me?”
“Why would I mourn for someone who died while fulfilling their own choices?”
Vargan shrugged lightly and continued.
“After the clash of the Scriptures, you died. But considering you reached out to me, a distant descendant, you must have pulled some trick. …As expected of the Schugenhartz family, you prepared for contingencies quite well. You didn’t just mindlessly clash with the Scripture.”
“…I must apologize to you and the other descendants regarding that matter.”
Schugenharz deeply bowed his head in front of Vargan.
He said he had sacrificed countless descendants for his own obsession.
“Vargan. The ‘incurable disease’ you’ve been suffering from since childhood is my fault.”
The original Vargan’s weakness.
The incurable disease known as the curse of God.
A mysterious illness that suddenly appeared one day and drove its victims to death with no cure in sight.
“Before the final war with Bael, I cast a curse on my descendants. To put it in your terms, it’s the power known as a unique spell.”
Vargan recalled the characteristics of the curse and gave a wry smile.
“No matter how refined it was, for the curse to continue to my generation, it must have been a pretty powerful curse. Haha. Thinking about the characteristics of curse magic, it’s no surprise it came with side effects.”
Excluding Schugenharz’s direct lineage, through several generations—dozens, hundreds—their blood had spread widely.
It wouldn’t be surprising if a tiny fraction of them experienced the side effects of the curse.
Having personally experienced those side effects, Vargan leaned closer to the table and asked.
“Was this history what you wanted to convey at such a cost, Schugenharz?”
“…Do you blame me?”
“Just answer my question. What is your purpose? What exactly do you want to achieve?”
“…….”
Schugenharz paused for a moment.
He revealed his true intentions.
“I was searching for someone to carry on my will. Someone who possesses sufficient strength and character to pass the trials.”
“…….”
“Vargan. I mentioned when we started the conversation that after sharing everything, I’d ask a favor. I know it’s inappropriate to say this to you, who have suffered due to my curse, but I’m being shameless and asking you this.”
Schugenharz stood up, pushed his chair aside, and knelt down.
He set aside pride and self-esteem, opening his mouth.
“Please, put an end to this dreadful chain.”
“…….”
“Prevent the tragedy of the Scripture and save this world that has been suffering. It is for that request that I remain here, even in death.”
Reflecting Schugenharz’s sincerity, the blue Scripture began to glow.
A bright light that seemed never to extinguish.
It is.
…
“…It was something I was going to do anyway, but I’ve really gotten myself tangled up in something ridiculous.”
Back to the original era.
After finishing the first day of the Regular Conference, Vargan sat in a chair in his guest room, orderly sorting through the events that had transpired with Schugenharz.
The request from Schugenharz.
The background of the novel he didn’t know.
And the blue-covered book he received from Schugenharz.
Dudung—.
The blue Scripture hovered around Vargan.
On the book, which Vargan referred to as the [New Testament] for distinction, a white fairy was sitting and playing.
“If I could use the Scripture, things would be easier. But of course, it’s not progressing that smoothly.”
As he moved the book around in the air, Vargan soon transformed it into a mass of mana.
The New Testament sparkled like a galaxy of stars before vanishing without a trace.
“Piya!”
Startled when her chair turned into mana, the fairy flew over and perched on Vargan’s shoulder.
Vargan stroked the fairy’s head with his finger and gazed out the darkened window.
The thick, dark clouds seemed to hold the essence of war ominously.
*
Meanwhile, at the same time.
Amon, the leader of the moderate faction, was with the Executor Ipos.
The Archbishop Ipos, wielding the strongest power, knelt before Amon to show his loyalty.
The vast sea and dense dark clouds unfolded outside the window.
While looking at the scenery, Amon spoke.
“You’re feeling it too, Ipos. Beled loves ‘him’ too much. And that’s not all.”
Amon narrowed her eyes.
She had clearly engraved Vargan’s standing in her mind during the Regular Conference.
Vargan wielded an overwhelming influence within the hardline faction.
A level of power that was excessive for a mere Archbishop.
“There are many aspects of his actions that are incomprehensible. Keeping such risks buried deep in the Goddess Church will one day bring great disaster.”
Amon believed that Vargan must be hiding something.
How she had been duped, Beled trusted him significantly, but her eyes couldn’t be deceived.
Having held the central role of the Goddess Church for thousands of years, Amon’s instincts were sharper than any blade.
“On the last day of the Regular Conference, the moment the meeting ends, I will withdraw my powers.”
Currently, Amon’s powers resided in the place where the Regular Conference was taking place.
As a result, other Archbishops and even Cardinals could not use their powers.
Of course, Vargan, who used blue mana, was no exception.
At present, the giant tortoise was practically an isolated island.
It was a neutral zone where familiars’ communications and any kind of magical spells could not reach.
Amon turned and looked down at Ipos, commanding him.
In her hand was a sinister purple book.
“Ipos. The moment I withdraw my powers, unleash maximum strength and kill Vargan.”
An intimidating means that Amon wouldn’t normally resort to.
However, even if it meant distancing herself from the hardliners, Vargan was a ticking bomb that needed to be handled quickly.
Listening to the gentle yet ruthless order, Ipos merely nodded, faithfully accepting her command.
“If that is your wish.”
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