Building A Human Empire By Creating A Clan [EN]: Chapter 147

Vlad’s army arrived a few days later.

The army, which should have numbered in the hundreds of thousands, was reduced by nearly half.

“It’s your fault,” the relic controlling Vlad grumbled.

My runaway magic had reached him.

“All the Undead who were once human were devoured by you.”

Undead were created by trapping a portion of the soul that resided in the body during life within the corpse, using them as slaves.

They wouldn’t move without a soul, and I had unintentionally absorbed those souls.

“Even the monsters are hard to control. Your presence destabilizes the magic of Akakosk. Can’t you suppress it a little?”

– If I could, I would have done it already. Why ask when you know the answer?

“Damn it.”

Mockery dripped from the pendant.

“It seems the magic of the old god is clashing with mine.”

“Tch, looks like it.”

Vlad clicked his tongue.

“The throne is useless anyway. Why don’t we just take the cauldron and retreat?”

Tiamar had no reason to defend the capital.

I had absorbed the magic contained within the throne.

She had nothing to gain by defending the capital.

“It would be different if our forces were intact. Thanks to you, half the Undead are gone, the monsters are uncontrollable. Even for a defensive battle, this is too much, right?”

I nodded.

“Right? You agree? Then let’s retreat—”

“No, we should fight.”

“What? Are you even listening to me?”

Ignoring his rising voice, I stretched my hand forward.

I was looking down at the plains from the ramparts, and as I extended my hand, the clouds in the sky disappeared, and sunlight poured down.

“Let me ask you something. Does the Delphic Council still not know about my existence?”

“Impossible. They must have noticed. The flow of magic you unleashed from the throne was enough for me to detect it in the Theocracy. If they call themselves gods, they would have figured out the cause.”

“Then we must fight even more.”

“······.”

“The enemy heading here probably doesn’t know about me yet. If they knew who I was, they wouldn’t come.”

At most, they would think there was a massive magical explosion in the capital.

So, we can’t retreat.

We must take advantage of the fact that the enemy doesn’t know about me.

Next time, a weaker opponent won’t come to me.

“Can you do it?”

He wasn’t asking about my soul or the amount of my magic.

He was doubting whether I could fully control it.

“Watch.”

I clenched the hand I had extended.

The warm sunlight turned intensely scorching.

So much so that the eyes watching screamed in pain from the glare.

Whoosh!

The meadow, still damp from the recent rain.

The grass released moisture, shriveled, and then ignited into a raging fire.

The jade-colored field was engulfed in crimson flames.

As I moved my arm, the light followed, burning the field.

“Tiamar, do you remember your father’s miracle?”

“······.”

“And do they still remember it?”

Vlad fell silent.

“Let me remind them of forgotten memories.”

As I opened my fist, the flames melted away like a mirage.

And on the land covered in ashes, new sprouts began to emerge.

You are my punishment.

###

A silent forest.

An elf sat beneath a tree, lost in meditation.

He was a guardian of the World Tree, one of the eight elven lords.

An elf named Aleon.

“······.”

He had been meditating for years.

Denying himself even a sip of water, he was lost in contemplation.

Swish…

The magic of the World Tree permeated the forest.

A magic created by nourishing the old god.

The magic left over from creating young elves permeated the forest.

“Hoo—”

The magic permeating the surroundings seeped into his body, and as he exhaled softly, it came out again. As he inhaled, it seeped back in, repeating the cycle.

With each repetition, his skin peeled away like a husk, and his body was reconstructed anew.

As a result, his appearance was between that of a boy and a young man.

He, who had lived since before the elves melted copper to adorn themselves and compiled the first history books, had a younger appearance than Prince Raeragon.

Who could easily guess his age?

Rustle…

He opened his eyes.

After years, he opened his eyes and moved his head.

“What is it, Lord Aleon?”

A fairy attending to him asked.

Fairies with a height of only two hand-spans [approximately 15-20 cm, or 6-8 inches].

They fluttered their small wings and approached him, asking.

He fixed his gaze on the east and opened his mouth slightly.

“A flow···.”

A flow?

“Such a massive flow.”

The fairies repeated his words, engraving them in their minds.

To them, Aleon was a being regarded as a god.

They sought to hear and record the words of the god.

“Magic is surging. An immeasurably vast power is moving with a single purpose. I have only seen such a flow three times in my life.”

Aleon said this and closed his eyes.

The fairies, surprised by his words, blinked.

Was he falling into meditation again?

He repeatedly opened his eyes and said,

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

The fairies quickly opened their mouths and asked.

Then Aleon scanned the fairies carefully and replied,

“When the venerable Ailetrione manifested his existence, I first realized the existence of a god. He was the closest to omniscient and omnipotent, so all things had to bow down.”

“When was the second time?”

“When the Four Dragon Tiamar betrayed the great cause. The moment she fell and cried out, that cry spread throughout the world.”

When asked about the third time, he took a long breath.

“When all the dragons in the world rained down as rain in the flames she spat, when all the life beneath them burned and melted, I felt the third flow.”

Only then did the fairies understand the meaning and widen their eyes.

“Does that mean···.”

“This flow is the flow of magic due to the birth of a god or a great death.”

He narrowed his eyes.

His gaze turned east again.

The fairies looked in the direction he was looking and pondered.

What is in the east? What caused such a flow?

There were too many things to suspect, making it difficult to pick one.

“Vlad.”

A fairy muttered.

The fairies who were pondering beside him raised their heads.

“Blood?”

“A mosquito yearning to become a god.”

“He is collecting souls!”

Emperor Vlad of the Mikena Empire.

Who didn’t know that he was collecting souls?

He gathered souls to make them his own and become a god.

If his trick worked, the identity of the flow was certain.

“Has he become a god?”

Aleon also tilted his head.

Even over ten thousand years of experience could not be certain.

Vlad was too ordinary to become a god.

If he could have become a god, he would have been in that position long ago.

Because he couldn’t, he only coveted the throne of emperor.

“Who else could do this besides him?”

“No! There’s one more.”

One of the fairies suddenly shouted, and everyone’s attention turned to him.

“Who is it?”

“······.”

The fairies knew who he was referring to.

However, they hesitated to answer and mumbled.

He was human and had only appeared a few years ago.

Aleon did not know that human due to his meditation.

“Speak.”

He sensed something from the fairies’ attitude and urged them.

The little winged fairies hesitated for a moment and then spoke in unison, telling the truth. As the achievements of a human were unraveled from their small mouths,

“It’s him.”

Aleon sighed and struck his knee.

“He is the cause of this flow. A human has his own god.”

He spoke with more urgency than before.

“Call the brothers and sisters who went to Vlad’s land.”

“Yes?”

“Quickly! Tell them to retreat!”

“Y-yes!”

At Aleon’s roar, the group of fairies fluttered their wings as if fleeing and left the forest. Aleon, left alone, slumped down on the dirt floor and leaned his back against the tree.

“A human god···.”

The look in his eyes, muttering to himself, sank coldly.

“The one to succeed the two dragons is not us?”

His voice trembled with anger and resentment.

“That can’t be. It shouldn’t be. The opportunity we worked so hard to create is taken by livestock? What are those things to begin with.”

Magic emanated from his body, and the ground rumbled.

The rumbling of the ground spread in all directions, shaking the forest.

“Once is difficult, but twice is not easy. A newborn god, and what are those things.”