Rebirth of the 8th-Circle Mage

“How is it? Now that your love whom you thought was dead is back and alive?” Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs Novᴇ(l)Fɪre .ɴᴇt

Ayla taunted Allen by showing him Hela in her grotesque state, covered in bodily fluids and no longer looking human.

Allen’s expression darkened even more, which only excited Ayla.

“Haha, what’s with that face? Aren’t you happy to see her? I allowed the two of you to reunite out of the kindness of my heart! Oh, is it because she’s not moving? Don’t worry about that. She does everything I say. Take a good look.”

Ayla snapped her fingers once more, causing Hela to move slowly and unnaturally, contorting her limbs.

Allen felt like he was watching an undead creature.

Ayla found it amusing to insult the dead and torment Allen.

The memories of her past human life were completely gone. Therefore, in addition to the knowledge Dracan had bestowed upon her, she had also consumed humans to build up knowledge from their memories.

Thus, Ayla was certain that if Allen really loved Hela, he would never be able to kill her.

Ayla was thrilled to think that she had given Arthus something interesting to watch.

Allen remained expressionless as he looked at Hela, whose life force had been sucked out of her, leaving her with a countenance similar to that of a scarecrow, her body oozing with all kinds of nasty fluids.

However, Hela continued to move closer to Allen, having one single goal in mind.

She would bite Allen to death, as Ayla had ordered, and turn him into a blind believer just like herself.

Even though Hela was approaching him with malicious intent, Allen took no defensive stance. Instead, he muttered, “...ing,”

“What?”

“Disgusting…”

“What?”

“It’s so fucking disgusting that I feel sick to my stomach, you bitch!”

As Allen stared at Hela, he cursed and drew his giant Vasilipo from his waist. It didn’t look like he had drawn a regular sword; rather, it looked like he had unsheathed flames.

After drawing the Vailipo, Allen swung it in front of him in a wide motion.

Despite its size and weight, Allen swung the Vasilipo almost as fast as McDowell swung his own blade.

However, the Vasilipo’s blade didn’t make contact with anything. Allen had literally swung it at nothing.

Seeing this, Ayla burst into laughter. “Hahaha! I knew you wouldn’t be able to hurt her!”

Just as she had predicted, Allen had drawn his sword but had failed to kill Hela. Thus, she assumed that he had merely swung his blade in an attempt to scare off Hela and avoid having to fight her, but just then…

“...!”

A few moments after he had swung his sword, vapor of pure white frost formed in front of Hela, spreading on her like mold and freezing her in place.

“...Ha?” Ayla chuckled in disbelief as she saw Hela freeze in place. She couldn’t understand what had just happened.

She frowned and muttered under her breath, “Just why?”

Allen felt repulsed by Ayla's puzzled reaction.

“And by the way! You’re makingsick, so stop pretending to be human already, you monster!” shouted Allen.

“W-what? M-monster?”

To humans, Alya undoubtedly looked like a monster, but none of the apostles thought about themselves like that.

They were evolved beings. They had physical abilities far superior to those of ordinary humans, and Arthus had even acknowledged and blessed them with his divine power.

And in the process of acquiring knowledge from Dracan and humans, the apostles knew very well that they themselves had once been human.

Ayla clenched her teeth and blurted, “A monster you say…!”

With that, the ground underneath her cracked akin to a spider web.

Monster… There was something about that word, something distasteful, vile even. It wasn’t exactly a complex, but Ayla hated that word as though it were a disease.

She despised it because the more knowledge she acquired, the more she understood what the word ‘monster’ meant to humans.

But despite her fury, Allen remained unbothered.

“That’s right, you monster.”

“Shut up!” Ayla shouted with a shrill voice that reverberated throughout the area.

Following her shout, the cracked ground beneath her completely fell apart, and all the nearby vegetation was ruined, the stems of plants being snapped in half.

“You crazy bitch…!”

Her incredibly loud shout had taken sof the members of the Union off guard, causing their ears to start bleeding. They had to request treatment from Saint Irenae.

He hadn’t done anything special himself, and despite being the closest to Ayla, his ears hadn’t been damaged.

The reason for that was simple—Allen currently had everyone’s rings, so he had almost as much divine power as Ayla.

“Let’s go, Vasilipo.”

Realizing this, Allen didn't have a reason to hesitate any longer. He firmly squeezed the handle of the reborn Vasilipo.

This was his perfect chance to redeem himself.

He quickly closed the distance and swung his sword at the enraged Ayla.

A wave of frost burst forth from his blade, large enough to engulf Ayla entirely.

***

Arthus was stunned by Ayla’s behavior as he was watching her through his mirror. He had never imagined that she would think of using Hela’s corpse in that way.

However, seeing the result of the sudden battle ignited by Ayla’s rage, Arthus couldn’t help but gulp nervously.

“...”

Ayla’s head flew high in the air, and before it hit the ground, Allen froze it solid and sliced it in half.

She had lost, and that too by a huge margin.

Arthus’ expression darkened as he witnessed this. Ayla had been one of his three strongest apostles, so naturally he was terribly upset by her landslide defeat.

Ayla’s defeat completely robbed Arthus of his excitement. It also intensified his disdain for Henry’s team as he could see them rejoice in front of Ayla’s headless corpse.

“Okay then… I see how it is. Then what about this?”

After a moment of thought, Arthus moved his finger toward the mirror, hoping that his next move would level the playing field and restore the fun.

Divine power left his finger and seeped into the mirror.

***

“She was nothing.”

Allen stomped on Ayla’s head, or rather, on the two parts of her head, crushing them to a pulp. After doing the swith the rest of her corpse, he turned to face his allies.

Allen took off his necklace and said, “Thank you for having faith in me. I was able to redeem myself and protect my honor thanks to you.”

“We also feel relieved thanks to you. Anyway, Hela… I had no idea she had died like that.”

“It saddensdeeply to know that the Iron and Blood Empress faced such a cruel end. So… Saint, could you please pray for Empress Hela?”

“Ah, of course! I’ll pray for her right away!”

After smoothly disposing of Ayla, Allen took off the necklace and handed it to Henry, then asked the Saint to pray for Hela and Amaris.

The expedition team received a moment of respite as Irenae recited her prayer.

“Irene, the goddess of love and peace, please comfort the souls of the fallen female warriors of the kingdom of Amaris, who had no choice but to sacrifice themselves for peace, and have compassion for them…”

The expedition members watched in silence as the Saint and the Twelve Apostles prayed for the souls of the fallen.

Their heartfelt prayers resonated with their divine powers, resulting in a bright light coming from them. The rest of the Union members also bowed their heads and clasped their hands in prayer.

Just then, Ayla’s corpse, which had been completely destroyed by Allen, squirmed and rose from the ground, regenerating to her original form.

“...?”

Everyone was baffled by the sight.

“S-Saint?” McDowell called out in shock.

The Saint quickly threw her hands and crisscrossed them repeatedly, desperately pleading her innocence.

“I-I didn’t do that! I don’t know how that happened!”

“W-well yes, but…!”

Of course, no one thought that Irenae had brought Ayla back to life, but Ayla’s sudden resurrection was deeply unnerving, partly because of its timing.

At last, Ayla stood before the expedition team once again, looking exactly like when she had first greeted them, head attached and all.

Seeing this, Hoosler murmured, “Black… magic?”

“What?”

Hoosler’s unintentional remark caught everyone's attention. His face quickly turned red as everyone looked at him.

At any rate, Hoosler was certain that the power he felt from Ayla had the unique energy of black magic.

“Hoosler, what do you mean it's black magic?!” Henry asked urgently.

“I-I’m sure of it. Ayla has been brought back to life by black magic, and a nasty one at that…”

Hoosler was an advanced Warlock and he had devoted decades of his life in the Church of Nephram to resurrect the Demon King.

Therefore, if he said it was black magic, it had to be black magic.

Henry had never heard of Arthus dabbling in black magic before, but at the stime, he didn’t think it was implausible since the priests from Shahatra used a language similar to that of black magic.

But then, it suddenly dawned on him…

Divine language!

Herabola had told Henry in the Tomb of Souls that such languages were collectively known as the divine language.

Henry was desperately trying to cup with a fast solution, but just then, Logger and Ananda spoke up after being silent all this time.

“Black magic, huh… I’m glad to hear that.”

“That’s right. It’s finally our tto help.”

Hoosler, the advanced Warlock, had confirmed that this was black magic, and both Logger and Ananda were both formidable holy warriors who had once hunted down the dark wizards throughout the entire continent with Henry Morris.

Logger and Ananda stepped forward, both of them exuding confidence and determination.

“We’ll take care of her.”

No one tried to dissuade them.

They were both enveloped by divine power.

When holy warriors met dark wizards, they becthe most powerful warriors.

At this very moment, two of the greatest holy warriors in the history of the continent stood before a spawn of black magic, attempting to reclaim the glory of the past.