SWORDMASTER’S YOUNGEST SON Chapter 243 Individual Study, Group Study (8)

Individual Study, Group Study (8)

“These flames are as unpleasant as their master. I almost went bald,” Murakan complained as he gathered a handful of Shadow Energy and brushed his hair. Surprisingly, the burned hair absorbed the Shadow Energy and returned to its original state.

“Why did you put out the fire with your body instead of using Shadow Energy?” Jin asked.

“Good question. Why did I do that? I guess I was in a hurry. Damn it.”

“Ah, well. Thanks anyway. You just did something that will be remembered forever in the history of magic, even if I’m the only witness to it.”

“If someone offers to write your biography in the future, make sure to tell them to include this anecdote.”

“Of course.”

It was the Final Version of the Devastating Blazing Flame Orb.

Jin’s eyes gleamed as he held the magic tome. In his past life, Valeria had introduced him to all kinds of rare magic tomes. In his current life, he even inscribed Chen-mi’s and Kiddard Hall’s magic tomes into his body.

But Riol Zipple’s legacy was, quite literally, the greatest masterpiece in the history of magic. Not only was he the greatest of his time, but whenever someone talked about the greatest magicians of all time, Riol Zipple always made the list, and this was his greatest masterpiece.

As a Mage, one could not live a happier moment than this. Jin wished he could open it and check its contents immediately, but he decided to keep it hidden under his coat for now.

Jin barely had time to celebrate. He heard a low groan.

“Urfff.”

It was Chukon Tolderer.

Unlike Suzanne, who had her neck cleanly cut, Chukon somehow managed to survive. The secret move of extreme defensive magic had released a shield barrier when the leader’s sword pierced his body, protecting his heart.

But when they reached him, it was clear he wouldn’t survive.

The shield barrier had only prolonged his life briefly. He had a purple face and was quickly turning into a corpse.

Jin asked him the most typical question a victor could ask after the battle was over and the winner and loser were clearly decided.

“Chukon Tolderer, do you have any last words?”

There was a dark and deep resentment in his eyes as bloody foam escaped from his mouth. It was not surprising. He met his end by the sword of the very lord he had served, in the face of his enemy.

“My magic tome.”

He stammered as he spoke, but Jin could guess what he was desperately trying to say.

Like Riol, he wanted to leave behind his legacy. No Mage in the world wanted their life’s work to disappear into history in vain.

And since he was dying by betrayal, he would hand over his magic tome to the enemy if it was the last resort.

“Where is it?”

“Safe… Eternal, loklava… va.”

The third room of the eternal safe, password loklava.

With those as his last words, Chukon embraced death. Jin closed the eyelids over the dead man’s dark, dazed eyes.

“The third room of the eternal safe? It seems it was highly valued. Well, it was quite a powerful defensive magic, I admit,” Murakan said, shrugging.

Neither Jin nor Murakan felt any sympathy for Chukon for entrusting them with his magic tome. It was unlikely that this was the only experiment he had conducted on civilians. Therefore, they thought Chukon should be grateful to them for allowing him to say his last words.

“Let’s go.”

They quickly entered the destroyed castle. They had to return to the Holy Kingdom with Mirtual and the survivors in order to conclude what had happened today and prepare for the next battle.

“The Kinzelo learned about my identity, and I don’t even have a clue who their leader is. Is he a demon, as Murakan suggested?”

The ability to conjure metal was unheard of. The ability to form a sword, okay, maybe that was possible. But teleportation was unimaginable.

The leader seemed to have lived for at least a thousand years. No, maybe he had lived for an even longer period. He might have even existed when the Legends ruled the World.

Their leader must be the one behind the effort to recreate the Legends.

“He also knows about my brothers.”

The reason he only took Joe with him is probably because he is a key person in the recreation of them. In addition to that, he was somehow related to Temar.

Murakan definitely showed a strange reaction when their leader claimed that it was Murakan who went into overload, not Temar.

He seemed stunned, like a person facing a past he didn’t want to remember.

Jin had also asked Murakan why he had fought against Temar several times before. And on each occasion, Murakan didn’t seem willing to talk about it. So Jin stopped asking him.

“He would tell me himself if there was something I needed to know regarding Temar.”

Jin was lost in his thoughts as they entered the castle.

It was now much more damaged than a while ago, which was obviously caused by Murakan’s ruthless attacks.

They moved the broken stone pieces, piled up in heaps, and headed towards the laboratory and Mirtual.

The laboratory had been ravaged by detonation spells. Not a single facility related to the experiments remained intact. Everything was in ruins, making it much more difficult to find the trapdoor to the secret passage.

“Mirtual! Mirtual Sila!”

“We’re here!”

“Over here!”

It wasn’t Mirtual. They heard the unfamiliar voices of a group of men in the distance. Jin and Murakan moved the rubble to find the source of the sound and tore open the ground.

Once the secret passage was uncovered, the first thing they saw were the frightened and tearful faces of the survivors, and the mana insertion device that Jin had moved.

And Mirtual, who had her eyes closed and her hands peacefully folded on her chest.

“The Saint has saved us and returned to Ayula’s embrace.”

“Please, take the body of our Saint back to the Holy Kingdom with us.”

She had squeezed out the last of her life force to insert mana into her people and headed into Ayula’s embrace. She had completed her mission as a Saint.

“Perhaps she knew from the beginning that she would die if she wanted to save them. That’s why she desperately asked me to wait here.”

She was not an ordinary Healer. She was a Saint. But there was a good reason why she died trying to save them. There were traces of experiments all over her body, like the Light Heart protruding from her torso, a golemized arm, or a tail on her backside.

They could hardly be considered ordinary human beings anymore. As they were on the verge of transformation, she had to pour all her life force into the mana insertion device if she wanted to save them.

“They asked us to give this to you, saying that it must be delivered to His Majesty.”

Jin took off his cloak and covered his body. One of the survivors handed him a book and a pendant.

It was Mirtual’s pendant, and the book was a diary. She had been recording everything that happened in this place since she infiltrated the Dark Magic Guild as a spy by order of the Holy King, every day.

“Please, leave. Let’s go back now.”

***

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***

It was the last day of the Manifestation Festival.

The sun shone over Vankela’s capital as if Ayula herself was blessing the scene.

A giant carriage of pure white stood in the middle of the crowded city square. The fake Miklan and Lani stood on top of the carriage, waving to the people.

Thirty holy knights of the golden shield surrounded the carriage to protect it, and a procession of saints followed behind. This in itself was a great attraction for those who had come to the Holy Kingdom to witness the Manifestation Festival.

The city square was literally packed with people, and there was no room to move. Citizens and nobles from various kingdoms and the people of the Holy Kingdom had gathered to receive the consecration of the Holy King. Everyone eagerly awaited the start of the ceremony.

“Your holy majesty!”

“Your majesty!”

Seeing the holy king in person was an overwhelming experience for many. They were overwhelmed with emotion and shouted at the top of their lungs, especially the citizens suffering from illnesses.

For the sick and the poor, the consecration ceremony of the Holy King was a great opportunity and a great hope to prolong their lives. The consecration had the power to heal diseases.

But since the powers of the holy king were limited, not many were fortunate enough to receive the consecration during the Manifestation Festival.

Only about fifty people received the true consecration each year through the divine powers of the Holy King. The rest were simply blessed with words.

These blessings had no practical impact on the fate or life of each individual, but still, many were desperate to receive the words of the king.

The king stopped waving and lowered his hand. The city square fell silent immediately.

“Dear children of Ayula, and guests who have come from all corners of the world to see me, I express my gratitude. I am the holy king, Miklan.”

The crowd cheered.

“As in the consecration ceremonies of all the previous years, it will be my precious daughter, Lani Salomé, who will read today’s consecration message on behalf of the voice of this old man. I ask for applause for my daughter, who will have to pray tomorrow with a sore throat.”

The fake holy king patted Lani’s shoulder and showed his affection for his daughter.

Lani took the fake Holy King’s arm and smiled happily. The fake king was perfectly imitating the real Miklan, who always humbled himself and loved his daughter like no one else.

There was a loud applause.

Lani began the consecration message once the cheers died down.

“We will begin the consecration ceremony of His Majesty the Holy King. Once the carriage starts moving, please follow us in an orderly manner to avoid any injuries or accidents.”

As in most ceremonies of this kind, the people who received the true consecration through sacred power were already predetermined, although not many people knew this fact.

The carriage advanced and briefly stopped at the locations where the people destined for consecration were gathered.

At each stop, the Holy King stepped down from the carriage to kiss their foreheads and bless them while Lani read the consecration message.

“May Ayula’s will, heart, and love be with you…”.

The true consecration was granted to about forty people without major issues. The crippled began to walk after the consecration, and the blind began to see a new light.

The spectators, moved by the miracles that occurred, began to cry.

It was then that a group of Vankelans dressed in robes emerged from the crowd and blocked the path of the carriage. They were not among the chosen ones.

“Your majesty!”

“Your majesty! Listen to our stories!”

The crowd started booing.

Such intrusions were common every year during the consecration ceremonies, so they didn’t pay much attention to it.

The Holy King smiled mercifully at the intruders. Lani whispered in his ear,

“Bless them, Father. You also stepped down from the carriage for those who interrupted last year, remember?”

The fake Holy King nodded.

At that moment, he and the Zipple clan decided that Lani had completely surrendered and had started playing along. They also considered it the result of the continued mental torture while she was held captive by Vitura.

The Holy King stepped down from the carriage and met with them.

“Yes, children of Ayula. How burdensome was your pain that you sought me out? Please, tell me your stories.”

Those who interrupted the procession raised their bowed heads.

“Your majesty, we…”

They raised their heads and removed their robes, revealing the grotesque bodies that bore the traces of biological experiments.

“Heavens, what the hell is that?”

“No!”

The spectators who caught a glimpse of the horrifying sight gasped and screamed.

The fake Holy King shuddered and realized something was wrong. Lani bit her lower lip and averted her gaze. She tried not to burst into tears as she looked at Vitura, who returned her gaze with an expressionless face.

The thirty Holy Knights of the Golden Shield guarding the carriage also clenched their teeth and looked at Vitura.

“They dragged us into the laboratories against our will and turned us into this state…”.

“Who did this to you?” The fake Holy King did his best to remain calm. Things would only get worse if he let panic take over.

They responded, “The Head of the Holy Knights, Vitura. He sold us to the Zipple’s experimentation chambers. He turned us into this!”

“Shut your mouth!”

Shing!

Vitura unsheathed his sword as he shouted.

Lani couldn’t take her eyes off him. She tried her best not to cry.


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