Chapter 578: The War Begins (3) [Bonus Image]

Chapter 578: The War Begins (3) [Bonus Image]

Kiiing....

A mana-infused bud blossomed at the tip of Mary. Thin beams of light were shot from the fully opened petals, forming lines of radiance.

Balzac immediately activated Gluttony in his right hand. The mouth of greed extended beyond his palm up to his forearm. Balzac's arm split open like the jaws of a reptile. The approaching light entered Gluttony via the mouth, and it immediately devoured the light.

Crunch.

The mouth closed, and the light disappeared. Simultaneously, Balzac's face contorted. His stomach turned, and blood spewed from his mouth. It was impossible for him to digest the magic he had just swallowed.

"Ugh...!"

Balzac stepped back while vomiting blood.

Crack, crack-crack!

His left arm fractured, and bubbles formed on the surface of his skin. The undigested magic began to tear Gluttony apart from the inside. Balzac forcibly swallowed the blood he kept vomiting as he thrust his staff forward.

Boom!

He hurled a mass of dark power toward Sienna. Simultaneously, Gluttony opened once more in his right hand. It regurgitated the magic after failing to digest it. But though he vomited it out, Balzac managed to interpret some of the magic and wrest control over it during that brief moment.

Both the mass of dark power and Sienna’s magic were hurled toward her. However, Sienna felt no sense of crisis from them. She swiftly stretched her fingers and drew a line in the air.

Both magics were extinguished simultaneously. She had not merely overpowered them. Rather, she interfered with the magical formulas themselves and turned the magic into nothingness.

"How beautiful...!" Balzac exclaimed in admiration, wiping the blood smeared across his mouth.

He had never seen such a clean dispel. He felt shocked by Sienna’s first attack but even more so by her dispel. It was truly overwhelming. Balzac felt an insurmountable gap between himself and Sienna. They were on different levels. No matter what magic Balzac used or what measures he took, it seemed impossible to inflict even a scratch on Sienna.

"Did you retract Empress Rule because... you are looking down on me?” he questioned.

"That’s right,” Sienna answered without hesitation. "Even without Empress Rule, your magic will not reach me.”

"Ha, that seems to be the case," Balzac admitted.

"Just once,” Sienna declared. Her left hand opened wide. "With this one spell, you will die.”

It was a proclamation made without any emotion. Sienna was certain, and so was Balzac. He chuckled bitterly and nodded.

"Then I must try not to die... not just once, but twice, if not three times,” he responded.

"No, that's impossible. You won't get a second chance. Just once, only once,” declared Sienna.

Crackle....

Purple light gathered in Sienna's left hand. Seeing that, Balzac couldn't help but doubt his eyes. That purple light wasn't mana. It was a sinister light that Balzac knew couldn't possibly belong to Sienna Merdain. In fact, he knew to whom it originally belonged.

"That is... the power of Duke Giabella," he muttered.

"Right. It's Noir Giabella's dark power,” answered Sienna.

Sienna had harvested the dark power of Noir along with the Demoneye of Fantasy. Although she only possessed a fragment of Noir’s original power, it was still so vast that its limit was difficult to gauge.

Balzac let out a short laugh and set down his staff.

"Thank you,” he said.

He was expressing gratitude even though his own death was imminent. Sienna had countless ways to kill him. Even another volley of the initial burst of light alone would have been enough to kill him. Balzac would have been rendered unable to respond. However, Sienna was sincerely preparing her magic to end him in a decisive, single blow.

Balzac felt grateful. Although Sienna had retracted Empress Rule, saying he would fail to reach her regardless, Balzac did not feel that she was looking down on him. Rather, he felt that she was being considerate.

‘She’s making sure I won’t have any regrets,’ Balzac thought gratefully.

He had known from the beginning. Although he stood here as a gatekeeper, Balzac was never able to guard the gate. Balzac was too insignificant and pitiful compared to the obstacles they had overcome so far. No matter how desperately he struggled, he could not become a hurdle they needed to surpass. In fact, he couldn’t even be considered a pebble in their path.

He had known from the beginning. He stood there in their path despite knowing. If he had wanted to become an obstacle, he should have become an enemy much earlier. From the start, Balzac had no intention of being an obstacle.

"Divinity of Magic," said Balzac.

That was what Balzac ultimately hoped for.

"Thank you for giving me the opportunity to witness it,” he said sincerely.

Balzac neither panicked nor was shocked. He knew this outcome was inevitable. Thus, with a bright smile, he stretched out his right hand. Death approached him slowly, and it took the form he had longed for all his life.

'If only it were a little longer.' With that thought, he opened Gluttony. The wide-open mouth swallowed the approaching death.

Sienna's magic was devoured by Gluttony and disappeared. For a moment, Balzac stood still, arm extended. Shortly after, he managed to part his trembling, quivering lips, "Thank you."

Sienna did not respond but lowered Mary.

"Magic is..." Balzac's voice cracked as he spoke slowly, "...so marvelous... and magnificent."

Crackle, crackle.

Balzac's right hand split and began to crumble. With each breath he took, he could feel his internal organs disappearing. The beings devoured by Gluttony turned into books that were shelved within Balzac. The same went for magic. Just like how Akasha comprehended magic, Balzac's Gluttony could understand the magic it consumed.

But the magic it had just devoured — was absolutely beyond his comprehension. It was like the first time he saw Witch Craft, or the Eternal Hole. It was as if he was looking at answers, yet he could not understand them. It was a vague impossibility. Was this the divine domain of magic?

Balzac chuckled, clutching his chest with the little strength left in his left hand.

"To witness such magic and die from it — there could be no greater death for a wizard like me," he said.

"It seems you won’t die as the Staff of Incarceration,” commented Sienna.

"I was always a wizard from the beginning,” Balzac answered with a smile. He could no longer stand and collapsed weakly.

"May I ask... one last thing?" he said.

"Go ahead,” said Sienna.

"Is this the end of magic?" Balzac asked earnestly.

Sienna didn't know what kind of answer he was hoping for. She had no intention of fulfilling any expectations, but she didn't lie either.

"Surely, something like this can't be the end of magic."

So she answered honestly.

"Even I can’t fathom the end of magic, even as the Goddess of Magic. I, too, am exploring it. In fact, I am now considering this: does an end to magic even exist?" she said. "An end might exist for me as a being, but not for magic. If magic holds infinite possibilities, it shouldn't have an end.”

"Ah...." Balzac uttered a sound, a mixture of admiration and a sigh, nodding his head. "Thank you."

He whispered his last thanks in a voice so faint it was barely audible. He could no longer lift his head and let it drop.

"Even this... is still... just a step in magic. Heh... so it is."

All his internal organs had disintegrated. And now, even his physical body began to vanish.

His vision blurred, prompting him to close his eyes. He made no effort to cling to his consciousness, which seemed on the verge of snapping. His body would disappear, but his existence would not. He was bound by a contract, and his soul was tethered. Despite facing death, the contract remained firm. After the dissolution of his body, Balzac’s soul would return to the Demon King of Incarceration.

"I'm glad I chose to be a wizard," Balzac muttered with a smile.

His life had been marked for death long ago. He had never entertained thoughts of survival. He had been content to die at Eugene's hands... but if possible, he had hoped to die at Sienna's hand, slain by the magic of the one he revered.

That wish had been fulfilled. No, he had experienced a death beyond what he had hoped for — the best death imaginable. With this blissful aftermath, Balzac’s spirit would return to the Demon King of Incarceration.

That was enough.

Balzac was content, and he died smiling.

His shattered body turned to ash and vanished. The full blossom of Mary withered again. Sienna gathered her mana and dark power and looked ahead.

The gate was open, and there was no gatekeeper.

"Let's go,” Sienna said, turning to Eugene with an unfazed expression. Eugene, having dismantled the barrier, nodded.

"That was straightforward,” he commented.

"Did you expect me to struggle?" questioned Sienna.

"He made quite a show of blocking the way as the gatekeeper, so I thought he might have some trump card,” said Eugene.

Balzac Ludbeth, the former master of the Black Tower, had always acted suspiciously since Aroth.

"He died in such an anticlimactic fashion for someone who's been so suspicious all this time,” Eugene grumbled as he walked toward the open gate.