The Great Mage Returns After 4000 Years Book 2: Chapter 388

Book 2: Chapter 388

The first scene was of a flickering candle providing light to a dark room.
Beyond that, the sight of two people sitting across from each other at a table.
The atmosphere was gloomy. The reason was probably not just because the table was empty.
“…”
The man sitting on the left, Ivan, crossed his arms and tapped his fingers. He didn’t appear to be thinking about anything. Instead, he was simply observing the woman sitting in front of him.
Eventually, Ivan opened his mouth.
“I refuse.”
The voice that came from his lips was firm. It carried his honesty and insistence that he wouldn’t allow any disagreement.
Iris, who had been silent for a while, finally asked a question.
“…you refuse?”
“Right.”
“Why?”
“A week ago, Cairo came to me.”
“…the traitor?”
“Diablo has declared that he no longer has hostile intentions towards us.”
“Are you telling me that you believe that?”
Iris spoke in an exasperated and angry voice when she heard those words which were beyond ridiculous.
“I don’t believe it. However, I’m certain of one thing. Diablo currently has no intention of fighting us. His attention has been drawn elsewhere.”
“I know that. That’s why this is the best opportunity. Now that he is concentrating on something else.”
“An opportunity? Don’t be ridiculous. Even if we fight him in the current situation, our chances of winning are less than half.”
“So should we just leave him alone? How many will he kill if we do that?”
“No, we will monitor him closely. If we find any signs that he’s playing dirty tricks, we will respond to them immediately.”
Iris pursed her lips slightly and spoke in a low voice.
“…that’s wrong. What we need now is prevention, not response. If we respond, we’ll have no choice but to act only after damage has been done.”
“I know that. But it can’t be helped.”
“What can’t be helped? Is that something you should say? You, who lost your Master to Diablo?”
Ttuk.
Ivan froze.
If it was the Ivan of the past, he probably would have swung his fist at that moment. Or he might have kicked the table away instead.
In any case, he would have done something. He would have expressed his anger in some form.
Not this time.
“Iris Peacefinder.”
He quietly murmured her name.
It wasn’t that he wasn’t expressing his anger, it was that he wasn’t angry.
Ivan simply glared at Iris with a contemptuous gaze.
“Do you really think that Diablo is the biggest headache we have to deal with right now? Did you know? About the anomalies that have been discovered all across the continent?”
The sharp aura that was surrounding Iris faded. She remained silent.
“After the great earthquake. No, you called it the [Spatial Vibration]. After that mysterious phenomenon, catastrophe’s occurred simultaneously. Everyone in the Circle is currently in charge of dealing with them. Of course, I, too, have officially rescued and provided aid to hundreds of thousands of people. If I had accepted your offer and fought Diablo instead, what do you think would have happened?”
“…”
“In all likelihood, all of the people I saved would be dead.”
“…the Circle is not a relief organisation. It seems you have forgotten the ideal behind the founding of your own organisation.”
“I didn’t forget that it is to keep beings that humans cannot deal with in check. However, I have determined that there are currently more pressing matters.”
“You have determined?”
“Right. Because that is my responsibility as Head.”
Iris lowered her head as the tip of her chin shook slightly.
Then she got up from her seat in a rough motion. She realised there was nothing more to gain from continuing the conversation.
Just before she left without even looking back.
Ivan spoke again.
“Perhaps I thought, this might be an opportunity for us to bring our opinions together.’
“…”
“I had expectations that we would unite and join hands like we had in the past… But I guess it was all my delusion.”
“Yes.”
Iris responded coldly.
“It was a delusion.”
* * *
The second scene began with a man entering a room. His face couldn’t be clearly seen because of his tangled mess of hair, and he had a staggering, unsteady gait as if he was drunk.
As soon as he entered the room, the man sucked in a deep breath.
“…huuu.”
A moment later, he swept his hair back, finally revealing a haggard face. He had a sparse beard, and there were thick dark rings around his eyes that spoke of his fatigue.
The man looked at the piles of papers scattered across the desk in the room with a tired expression. Then, with another sigh, he reached for the nearest document.
“…”
His eyes moved quietly as he read the letters that stretched across the page.
[Hitume Ikar]
[Official Damage Count: Approximately 17,000 dead or missing, around 40,000 injured, 26.7% of the land submerged.]
[The extent of the damage is expected to increase, with the island being expected to be fully submerged within six months.]
[The number, goal, base, and combat power of the Undersea Race is still unknown.]
The document took the form of a report.
The more he read the report, the more the light in his dark eyes seemed to die.
And by the end,
Bang!
The man pounded his fist on the table. The wooden table creaked loudly, and various documents were sent flying in all directions.
“…dammit.”
There was a hint of resentment in the harsh voice that leaked out.
The man touched his forehead. His expression was distorted as if he was experiencing a sudden headache, and his forehead was covered in sweat. He floundered like an unhinged person for a while before his eyes caught the sight of something on the table.
It was a bottle. Probably a bottle of wine, with an open lid. It seemed to have been left unattended for quite a while, but it was not empty. Reddish liquid was still visible inside of it.
The man picked up the bottle, the tips of his fingers trembling slightly.
Then, he carefully poured its contents into his mouth as if he were drinking the delicate wine of the heavens.
Gulp, gulp.
The careful sip soon became gluttonous chugging. He no longer seemed to care if the liquid leaked past his lips.
In an instant, the man emptied that half full wine bottle.
Then, he collapsed onto a nearby sofa. The man’s face became calmer. It was still haggard, but from a certain angle, he looked a bit better.
The reason was simple.
Alcohol.
Because he drank alcohol.
“…kukuku.”
A soft laugh escaped the man’s lips. It seemed both pessimistic and self-ridiculing at the same time.
At that moment, he knew who the man was.
The man, was Peran Jun.
“…”
Peran got up from his seat and shambled out of the room again.
0
When he returned after a while.
He held a bottle of wine in both hands.
* * *
The third scene.
It was a dark place. Perhaps the inside of a building.
But presences could be felt. There was also the occasional rustle of clothes or brief chatter.
Paht.
The area was suddenly lit up by a faint stream of light. It was easy to see that it was artificial light created through magic engineering.
Under the dim lights, hundreds of seats and a gigantic stage could be seen.
It felt like a familiar scene.
…There was a feeling of unease.
“You all are lucky.”
A pleasant, low voice.
The man standing in the middle of the large stage was a middle aged man with a neat appearance.
He had a calm face and pleasant voice even when faced with hundreds of audience members.
His tone, proper usage of his aura, and subtle movements. Finally, his straight moustache which, depending on your view, may or may not be a bit ridiculous.
Even those who sat in the seats furthest from the stage noticed that moustache.
This was a man who had a talent for gaining the attention of hundreds. In other words, he was the owner of a natural stage presence.
“The number of events held at [Cortus] is 72. I was given the honour of hosting 50 of them.”
After saying that, he bowed his head as a roar of applause sounded.
“Thank you.”
After expressing his thanks, the man continued.
“I assure you. Of the 50 events I have hosted personally, and the 12 that I haven’t been in charge of, today will certainly be the best event ever.”
He remembered. Where he had seen a similar sight before. It was the Demon auction house on earth. It was a surprisingly similar scene to that time.
Of course, there was also a difference. The ones in control of the auction house were humans, not Demons, and unlike the auction house at that time, where only humans were treated like products, various races were led to the stage.
Humans were among them.
‘…’
As soon as the sight of humans placing value on other humans unfolded before him, a voice suddenly appeared in his mind.
—Humans are not a beautiful race.
—No, you don’t know. I’m not talking about duality or two-facedness. Humans are inherently ugly. They are the most disgusting, evil race.
The event proceeded slowly.
Those sitting quietly in the audience revealed their ugly desires. When the heat of the event had risen to a sufficient level, the host spoke again.
“This is the highlight of today’s event. I’m sure there are many enthusiasts who came here after hearing about this product.”
A great commotion swept through the crowd.
Some bigshots who had been silent before revealed their presence. They all looked at the stage with greedy eyes.
“Haha, understood. I will not drag it on any further.”
Rattle.
“The Divine Beast, the Phoenix. In particular, this is a notorious individual who, decades ago, single handedly wiped out an army of 1,000 men.”
As he spoke, a woman was brought to the stage.
The characteristic hair, which was clearly visible from a distance or in the dark, was long enough to touch the floor.
It was a woman with the appearance of a human, but she was not a human.
“I bring to you! The Nightmare of Ispania! The Monster Queen!”
Cheers erupted from the audience. It wasn’t just because the woman was dazzlingly beautiful.
The Monster Queen.
No, Nix, was standing in the middle of the stage with her entire body covered in shackles.
Her eyes, which were stained with hatred and resentment, burned like flames.
* * *
Perhaps this was the last scene.
It was an instinctive feeling.
Boom…
Thunderclouds rolled overhead. Heavy rains poured as though there was a hole in the sky. In the middle of the night, countless corpses lay in a place that should have been a meadow.
In the middle, was a skeleton, but not a corpse.
Diablo.
The Elder Lich, who had reached the peak of necromancy, stood still in the pouring rain.
[That was a reckless fight.]
Diablo’s gaze was directed to a hole in the ground.
There lay the body of someone.
It was a girl with silver hair. No, to be precise, it was a battle golem in the shape of a girl. She was in a miserable state. Half of her head had been crushed, and her limbs were nowhere in sight. Sometimes, her body shivered, but that wasn’t a biological reaction.
[I have a lot of work to do, but I ended up consuming my power uselessly.]
As soon as his soft murmur ended, the sound of footsteps in the mud could be heard.
A Knight walked slowly in the heavy rain. The Knight, who was clothed in black armour, carried his sword over his shoulder, from which someone’s body hung like a piece of luggage.
[Snow?]
At Diablo’s question, the Death Knight, Lucid, shook his head.
[I see. Nevertheless, it was a sufficient achievement.]
Lucid lowered the person who had been skewered on his sword to the ground.
Splash.
Another corpse was added to the mud.
This corpse was different from the others. He’d wanted to see it with his own eyes, that was why he’d had Lucid bring it to him.
Because he felt like he needed to personally confirm this woman’s death.
[Hmm.]
After a while, he nodded in satisfaction.
Because he realised that Iris Peacefinder was most certainly dead.