Chapter 203 - Sloth and Thunder (5)

The Apostle of Sloth's surprise at Alon's sudden appearance lasted only a moment. He immediately tried to seize him, but...

"!"

His eyes widened. The black mana, which should have moved at his command, refused to budge.

That was not all.

'The mana is disappearing?'

Black mana scattered in the golden flashes. He could not begin to comprehend the sight before him.

Then a realization struck.

He immediately turned around, but...

'The crystal—!'

There, the black crystal—the source of power connecting and sustaining all the eggs and thousands of black threads—was already breaking apart beneath the crackling lightning.

The Apostle of Sloth turned back, his face filled with rage. Watching him impassively, Alon sighed inwardly.

'Did it work?'

Alon glanced behind him at Silli. The marks of brutal torture were plain for anyone to see, but she was still alive.

'Thank goodness.'

It was a genuine relief. Had she died, something beyond his ability to handle would surely have happened.

Just then, the apostle spoke.

"You bastard, how in the world...?"

Alon turned his gaze back to him. Still watching the black mana disperse, the apostle was brimming with bewilderment and horror.

This was impossible. Wherever the black mana reached was under the apostle's influence. It was effectively within his sight.

In other words, whatever or whoever entered the black mana, the Apostle of Sloth would immediately become aware of it.

'I know I didn't sense him—'

Yet the man before him—Marquis Pallatio, who had disposed of the apostle of Greed—had accomplished that impossible feat without a care and arrived before him.

And that was not even all.

'... How on earth did he figure it out?'

The black crystal. Having escaped his notice, Alon had gone straight for the artifact that powered the barrier and shattered it. In a single blow, no less.

As though he had faced this situation many times before, he had acted without the slightest error or hesitation.

The apostle's face twisted further.

'I'm glad it went as expected.'

At that reaction, Alon let out a relieved sigh. Under normal circumstances, he should never have entered the black mana. It was the worst possible matchup for him. He certainly could not have lasted even ten minutes inside it.

Yet he had not only bypassed the black mana, but evaded the apostle's awareness and appeared before him. The reason was simple: Alon knew the weakness in this black mana—or, more precisely, the weakness in this situation itself.

The black mana spread over an immense area centered on this place. But it was confined to the ground. Its influence did not extend into the sky.

That meant anyone who could travel through the sky would be entirely unaffected by it.

Even knowing that, few could make proper use of the weakness. In Psychedelia, too, people merely discussed its existence; they did not actually use it to fight the Sins.

The black mana covered such a vast area on the ground that, unless a human could remain airborne indefinitely, they would inevitably have to land within it and be detected by the apostle.

Fortunately, that was no problem for Alon. He had precisely the right circumstances and talent at his disposal to exploit the weakness: the Rain Altar, so enormous that even Basiliora in manifested form had needed to climb it, and Reinhardt, who could manipulate gravity.

Put simply, Alon had climbed the Rain Altar and used Reinhardt's ability to rise as high into the air as possible. Then he had used Form of the Thunder God to plunge straight into the central area where the apostle stood.

'Of course, that used up all my mana, and I botched the landing. I think I've wrecked my leg.'

Alon discreetly tried moving his leg. The ache in his shin suggested it was not broken, but the pain was enough to make him groan involuntarily.

Worse, although he had saved Silli, he had exhausted all his mana. Far from fighting properly, he was now liable to be caught by the black mana.

Of course, destroying the barrier's structure had temporarily dispelled the black mana. But that alone was no cause for relief. He knew that even if the black mana's core was destroyed, the barrier would regenerate with time unless its caster was dealt with.

'Though this time it was created with an artifact rather than the Sin of Sloth's ability, so I don't know whether the mana will recover.'

Thinking that, Alon watched the Apostle of Sloth. The apostle gave a disbelieving laugh and glared up at the sky.

"Impressive, Marquis Pallatio. I never imagined you would use such a method."

"..."

"I was also surprised that you understood this barrier's weakness as though someone had told you about it. However..."

He grinned.

"It seems you only know half the story."

The instant the Apostle of Sloth broke into that blatant sneer, black mana began gathering in the previously empty air as though time were rewinding. The artifact that formed it regenerated as well.

Watching it happen, Silli gave a quiet cry of despair.

"Ah..."

As if in answer, the apostle's smile grew even more sinister.

"No matter how many times you destroy the sphere, it will keep regenerating. As long as I remain alive, that is."

"..."

"What a pity. Things might have been different if you had disposed of me in a single blow."

"Well, even if you had targeted me, I wouldn't have died in one hit," the apostle added mockingly.

But Alon remained utterly unshaken.

"I know."

"What?"

"I said I know."

He spoke with simple composure.

"I knew you wouldn't die in a single blow. I also knew the sphere I destroyed would regenerate before long."

It was as though he felt no regret about the situation whatsoever.

"Ha—then you came here deliberately to die?"

Momentarily dumbfounded, the apostle gave another hollow laugh.

"No. I've finished what I came to do."

Alon shrugged lightly and looked at Silli.

"What do you—"

The Apostle of Sloth frowned as he started to question him.

"...?"

Then a realization suddenly struck him. The black crystal that formed the barrier had already regenerated completely. Yet despite that, the black mana was not spreading.

Sensing something was wrong, the apostle hurriedly turned around.

"!"

Then he saw them: purple threads wound tightly around the entire artifact from which the black mana seeped. Beyond it, lines of thread stretched as though slashing the whole world apart.

And a man was walking toward him.

THUD! THUD!

A sword in one hand, he held hundreds upon thousands of threads that divided the world in the other. Rage and hatred blazed in his eyes. He poured out chilling mana as though intending to dye the entire world purple.

"I'll kill you—"

Deus Makalian.

####

CREEEAK!

A sound like wire being stretched rang clearly in everyone's ears.

CRACK!

Black and purple threads recoiled as though snapping, and the battle began.

The exchange was so fast that Alon could barely even perceive it. A single clash burst the surrounding trees apart, and the air shuddered, scattering the lingering traces of destructive mana.

KRRRRAAACK!

Hundreds upon thousands of threads slashed as though cleaving the world, breaking and reappearing over and over. The torn threads clawed at the air and ground, leaving sharp scars.

This could never be called a battle between mere humans. It inspired nothing but awe.

"Holy shit—"

Reinhardt, who had led the knights inside when the black mana disappeared, involuntarily swore at the inhuman battle unfolding before him. The many knights following him likewise felt awe at a level of combat their eyes could not hope to follow.

But Alon coolly assessed the situation.

'Deus is losing ground.'

He could not make out the finer details of the battle, but the mana reflected in his eyes told him clearly who held the advantage.

This balance of power was only natural. Although their abilities appeared similar, unlike Deus, the apostle wielded the power of a Sin.

Above all...

'He's too worked up.'

BOOOM!

Alon saw Deus hurled out from between the intricately tangled black threads. Barely a few minutes had passed since the battle began, yet his body was already battered. His ink-black armor was shattered, with pieces missing, and cuts from the threads covered his body.

By contrast, the Apostle of Sloth had lost his earlier bewilderment. With an unhurried smile, he bound dozens of trees in black threads and lifted them into the air.

The contrast could not have been starker. To gain the upper hand, Deus needed to do more than calm down. He needed to take another step.

And so Alon called to him.

"Deus."

####

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

His heart thrashed wildly. Feeling its pounding, Deus stared with bloodshot eyes at the being before him: the apostle, his face utterly at ease as he suspended the shattered objects around him in black threads.

GRIND!

Deus tightened his grip on his sword once more and prepared to charge. He knew very well how foolish it was to let anger show in battle.

Even so, he could not quell his rage.

Silli. His little sister.

When he arrived here, the sight of her that filled his vision had been...far too much like that time.

"Hh—"

For an instant, Deus's vision turned gray. What he saw was a memory he did not even want to think about.

Beneath a night sky fallen silent, a man screamed as he struck a woman's head again and again. With her head half crushed, the woman plunged a knife into the man's belly.

And behind that mother and father stood the Apostle of Sloth, wearing a sinister smile.

["The Black Sheep has chosen you."]

His grip tightened hard. The force pouring from Deus's body intensified. His bloodshot eyes unleashed rage upon the apostle, while the purple mana exploding from him transformed into threads that once again divided the world into sections.

And just as he was about to charge...

"Deus."

A voice reached his ears. Unlike the fury boiling within him, it was exceedingly cool. A voice he knew well.

Then:

"Calm yourself, for the sake of your revenge."

At those words, spoken as though the speaker could see straight into his heart, Deus felt his head cool as if doused with cold water. The sound of his wildly pounding heart gradually receded. Only then did things he had failed to see begin to come into view.

And then Alon continued.

"Remember."

"What you can bind isn't limited to what you can see."

"...!"

Deus's eyes slowly widened at his words.

'This situation isn't so bad, either.'

The Apostle of Sloth wore a composed smile. Unlike his initial alarm, the situation was not actually all that bad.

'First I'll incapacitate Deus, then kill them one by one. The knights first, then Marquis Pallatio, then his sister. No—'

He chuckled.

'Killing the marquis first wouldn't be a bad idea. Damage his mind a little, then finish with his sister. That would make a fine scene. First—'

He devised, revised, and finalized his plan in his head, solely to plunge them into even greater despair.

'After showing them the overwhelming difference in our strength.'

Having finished his deliberations, the Apostle of Sloth moved and pulled on the black threads.

BOOM! KRRRRAAACK!

At the same time, the trees and rocks that had been bound in black threads crushed and crumbled above his head, beginning to form an enormous sphere.

The sphere swelled in an instant, soon growing so enormous that it blotted out the vast sky.

"What the—this is impossible—"

He had created a meteor. The knights present stared blankly upward at the sky dominated by that enormous sphere, tightly wound in black threads.

Then the Apostle of Sloth sneered at Deus, who stood panting with his sword in hand.

"You've grown stronger, but in the end you're hardly any different from when you were a child, Deus Makalian."

"..."

He looked at the few purple threads that remained. The battle had already tipped in his favor. Thinking that, he gave a relaxed, mocking chuckle.

"You still can't protect anything."

Then he flicked his hand.

"...?"

The Apostle of Sloth felt a strange dissonance. It was impossible to describe: the dissonance of something utterly taken for granted, yet not consciously perceived, having disappeared.

Momentarily dazed, the apostle only belatedly realized what it was.

"What...?"

'My mana—why?'

It was the mana he wielded. The black mana would not move at all, as though something had bound it.

And then...

'This—don't tell me—!'

As the horrified Apostle of Sloth opened his eyes wide, he saw Deus scattering purple mana as though he had been waiting for this.

"It still only lasts an instant."

KRRRACK!

The purple threads began slicing through the black threads without hesitation. Dozens, hundreds—no, thousands upon thousands of threads were severed without mercy.

At the same time, the enormous meteor began collapsing as though it, too, had been waiting. But the purple threads wrapped tightly around it, leaving no gaps.

KRRRRAACK!

They began carving it down. The falling debris ravaged the forest and ruins, again and again.

What emerged was...

"!"

An enormous, cone-shaped spear tinged with purple.

"But for now—"

The purple spear radiated a lofty, imposing presence.

"This should be enough."

KRRRRAACK!

With the harsh sound of tearing threads, it plunged toward the ground.

And then...

Makalian First Form