Genius Wizard Takes Medicine [EN]: Chapter 807

The beginning was from a very trivial coincidence.

“The Guido Order?”

“They say it’s a place that worships gods with great efficacy. Why don’t you try attending a service?”

A harsh world where one cannot live without relying on something.

He knew that his acquaintance was devoted to a religion, but he was skeptical about worshiping anything in the first place.

If there was a goal he wanted to achieve, he should accomplish it himself, and he shouldn’t hope for luck.

He had been dragged to a prayer once by his acquaintances, but nothing he wished for came true.

Instead, he just started seeing strange illusions.

“Damn it, I shouldn’t have gone.”

No matter how much he rubbed his eyes in regret, the illusion didn’t disappear.

The back of a man throwing a punch in front of a huge cliff.

Each time he threw a punch, the huge cliff, the end of which could not be seen, shook and trembled slightly.

At first, he thought he was possessed or had taken the wrong medicine, but it was certain.

The Guido Order had definitely implanted a very bizarre hallucination in him.

He tried visiting a shaman, and even paid an exorcist to do the job, but it didn’t disappear.

He was annoyed, but soon he became interested in the man in the illusion.

“…There’s something strange about this feeling.”

Every time he saw the man punching the cliff, he felt a tickling sensation in the corner of his heart.

His hand, which had been staring blankly at the man’s figure, moved unconsciously.

“Is it… like this?”

The man’s punch was slow and heavy enough that even he, who was ignorant of martial arts, could easily follow it.

Every time he extended his fist in a trance, he felt something wriggling deep inside his stomach.

Like a machine that keeps moving even after using up all its fuel.

Like a beast scraping out its depleted energy to push its limits.

That was how he first became aware of the existence of mana [a form of spiritual energy] and became a superhuman.

“This match is a victory for ■■■■!”

A life where one’s status and place are determined from the moment of birth.

The only way to rise above was to show off a talent that was different from others.

And the fist shown in the illusion became a new means for him.

“……”

From that moment on, he no longer complained about the illusion he saw before his eyes.

As if repenting for his past laziness, he focused on honing his own strength.

He had a talent for changing his life with his two fists, so much so that he didn’t know why he had only discovered it now.

“Winner, ■■■■!!!”

“Victory!!”

“It’s a complete victory for ■■■■!”

He did not serve anyone as a master or ask for guidance.

The man in the illusion, who was occasionally shown, was the only textbook for him.

But no matter how much time passed and he grew, the illusion did not change.

The man punching down below the endless cliff, as if praying and wishing.

He had watched to see if he could have a conversation, but nothing changed.

Around the time he felt that there was nothing more to learn from the man.

The illusion that had been tormenting him for a long time disappeared as if it were a lie.

“……”

What was that illusion in the end?

He had been tormented by the illusion that blocked his vision from time to time, but on the other hand, he was also impressed by the man’s endless training.

Ironically, it was only when he no longer felt tormented by the illusion that he let it go from his side.

He felt like he could sense something in that contradiction, but he forgot about the illusion with a bittersweet feeling.

Time passes quickly.

From a clumsy fist to a skilled martial artist, to becoming a renowned martial artist recognized by many.

The illusion he had forgotten returned at an unexpected moment.

At the moment he survived against the giant soldier corps in the Western Great War and completed the seventh stage of self-modification.

He realized that a second illusion was unfolding before his eyes.

Kooong!!

A physique that had become much thicker. Rough scars covering his skin.

A menacing aura that made his whole body tingle.

The man in the illusion was no longer training below the cliff.

He was just walking through the raging flames of the battlefield, covered in blood.

Under his feet, countless corpses of humans and monsters were mixed, forming an indescribable mountain of death.

The man was ruthlessly trampling on everything he had killed and destroyed, walking towards the end of the battlefield.

Oooooo……!!

Behind the man, the figures of people sending him reverent gazes.

There were also those who could not hide their worship and admiration, prostrating themselves and begging while praying.

The dramatic appearance of these people as if they were facing a real god.

But the back of the man receiving such worship looked very empty.

“…Who are you?”

He asked, knowing that there would be no answer.

He intuitively knew that the man was a much more skilled martial artist than himself.

He understood that it was the memory of someone who had lived much longer.

He realized that he was a warrior who had killed countless lives and traversed the battlefield.

What was it that he wanted and desired in the illusion, even going that far?

It was only at this moment, when he had fully achieved self-modification and ascended to the Saint level [a high rank of power], that he became curious about it for the first time.

“……”

There was still no answer.

It was not even known whether the man in the illusion could hear him.

He began to watch the second illusion that had newly appeared in his life.

“…His body.”

The figure of the man walking through the endlessly burning battlefield in the illusion.

He realized that what looked like scars on his body were actually traces of his body being stitched together.

He had processed and reattached something that was not originally his own body into the form of a body.

Something that was not even human. Or something that might not have even been from this world in the first place.

He was curious as to why the man had to modify his body to such an extent, but what he truly had to learn from the man was elsewhere.

From the way he walked indifferently, he awakened the inspiration of martial arts that he had forgotten and imitated his intuition.

He saw new possibilities in the corpses of humans and monsters that he had killed and destroyed under his feet.

He no longer questioned the illusion that was reflected in front of his eyes.

He only continued to strive and work hard so that this illusion could disappear from his sight forever.

So that he could rise to a level comparable to him.

Time flows even faster.

From a martial artist who was famous in one region, to a martial saint who pioneered his own path and made a name for himself throughout the continent.

Even his hometown, which he thought he would never be able to escape from, was now part of the territory he ruled.

Around the time he had completely escaped from the second illusion and felt numb to all stimuli.

That was when he faced the secret of the world.

“This can’t be…”

The strongest Ascendant [a being of immense power] in history, Bangung (Rebellious Sky), who awakened in the central city of Ars Nova.

A transcendent being with such immense power that he could destroy the Northern Continent and change the climate.

Numerous superhumans and monsters stepped forward to calm the situation, but they were no match for him.

Swish!

He slumped down, scattering hot blood on the cold snowfield.

The contradictory scenery of the sky collapsing with cracks above his head.

The sky shattering like glass was a symbol of Bangung’s manifestation in this place.

How it was possible, what kind of power he wielded, none of it could be properly understood.

Although he had only revealed himself for a moment, he was already being revered as the most powerful Ascendant in history.

“Ah…”

What came to mind under his barely visible eyelids was the memory of when he first clenched his fist and devoted himself to training.

From awakening mana and becoming a superhuman, to transcending the hierarchy through countless battles.

Looking back, his life had always been a series of struggles and fights. And a series of growth and desire.

That fact alone was the only value left for him now.

“Hah hah.”

He thought he had become numb to all stimuli, but he was mistaken.

This was his limit. He had only stopped because he knew this was the end of the talent given to him.

Deep down, he still wanted to see a higher realm.

“What’s… next?”

Whoosh!

At that moment, a long-forgotten illusion unfolded before his eyes.

The first illusion, where he silently threw punches in front of a cliff.

The second illusion, where he endlessly walked through a blood-soaked battlefield.

But the third illusion he faced was completely different from what he had vaguely imagined.

A gaunt man wearing a pure white priest’s robe.

His thickened physique and scars were nowhere to be seen, replaced by a neat figure standing with his hands behind his back.

There was no steep cliff, no burning battlefield, and no people worshiping him.

Having abandoned everything, the man stood alone, detached, looking up at the dark sky.

From beyond the dark sky, countless ominous gazes, the source of which was unknown, caressed the man.

A blurry figure no longer bound by the mortal world, seemingly connected to something beyond the sky.

“…”

What had happened?

Beyond the illusions flashing faster than his own life, what had the man become?

Before he could even properly ponder the question, he realized the moment he faced the man.

The third illusion he was facing. This illusion would never change again.

“There isn’t a fourth… is there?”

[……]

Yes, this is the end.

This is the end of the life given to him.

The end of the destiny set by the heavens.

This illusion, which had changed its scenery with each turning point in his life, becoming a new stimulus and challenge.

And this world, completed through two causalities [cause-and-effect relationships], now rushing towards complete destruction.

In this world, the challenge of ascension was not allowed, and there was no hope for a next time.

The moment he faced the man for the third time, he understood the most important secret of this world.

Even the possibility that the man who had appeared before his eyes was a being who had gone through the causality of the world.

Realizing this, his mouth opened involuntarily.

“If there is no next, why are you here?”

[……]

“What answer did you choose to remain in this world?”

It was ironic.

He had spent his entire life achieving what he wanted and striving not to rely on luck.

Yet, at the last moment, he realized that he had been relying on this man.

If he couldn’t find the answer himself, at least he wanted to know.

If he couldn’t face the end alone, at least he wanted to understand.

A question that sprang from pure curiosity and longing, disregarding even his own death.

To that monologue, not expecting an answer, a reply came for the first time.

[Do you wish to challenge ascension…?]

“…!!!”

A chilling and static voice that startled even him, who had been muttering without thinking.

The man was still standing with his hands behind his back.

Beyond the faintly swaying priest’s robe, the man’s voice echoed quietly.

[The bond between you and I is very thin and faint, and even our meeting is, in fact, meaningless…]

A natural and subtle voice, as if he hadn’t been silent for decades.

His mind seemed to be slowly drawn into the whispering voice.

In his dazed eyes, he saw the man slowly turn around.

[The fact that you gained inspiration by watching my immature days is merely a trivial coincidence that your vessel is similar to mine.]

“…”

[Therefore, I tried to ignore it and forgive it as a momentary aberration…]

The man smiled.

[But you are seeking more meaning from me than that.]

The man, his face hidden by a pure white halo, slowly stood before him.

A snowfield covered with cold eyes.

Before he knew it, he was facing the man at the end of the pure white blizzard.

He was kneeling, looking up at the man, while the man stood with his hands behind his back, looking down at him.

Dazedly staring at the man, he asked.

“…If I challenge ascension.”

[……]

“If I do that, can I know what’s next?”

[No, it is a worthless endeavor.]

But the man shook his head with a smile at his question.

[You are not ready, and this world will no longer respond to longing. Even the most sublime challenge will lose its meaning and fade away…]

“…”

[Therefore, I am trying to find new meaning by gathering the faith of the lost.]

Whoosh…!!

The halo behind the man’s face seemed to intensify for a moment.

[If there is no salvation in this world, if even ascension is merely a temporary reprieve…]

The man, who had been pausing for a long time, slowly turned his gaze and spoke.

As if he were directly looking at someone who was eavesdropping on this memory from somewhere.

As if he were here to deliver this answer, knowing that.

The cult leader smiled.

[I must become their salvation.]

* * *

……

……

……

……

……Ah, yes, that’s right.

He had heard a similar answer somewhere.

Although they had clearly started from the same place, their paths had now diverged completely.

The Godslayer who had declared he would shoot down the gods.

The Magic Marksman who had completely overhauled his own abilities from the root.

Someone who had once dreamed of the same thing as Lenok had come up with their own answer.

And he had heard the question that was the source of that longing somewhere.

“…Ah.”

The moment he realized that the cult leader himself was fully aware of this moment.

And that he had conveyed that fragment in a form that both of them knew.

Lenok realized that he was standing outside the memory of the Advent [a past powerful being].

“…”

In the end, the cult leader did not directly show Lenok his true nature.

Instead, he only vaguely illuminated the path he had walked by borrowing the memory of the Advent, a memory within a memory.

The Ascendant Advent. How the monster who had made a name for himself as a berserker hundreds of years ago became the vessel of the cult leader.

And why the cult leader himself came to enjoy such causality.

Only that subtle sense of distance, which seemed to narrow but never did, remained there.

The contradictory duality of revealing the cult leader’s own flaws without hesitation, yet subtly hiding and concealing them as if he would never allow it.

The moment Lenok realized this, he suddenly raised his head.

“Ah, you’re awake now. I was worried about when you’d wake up.”

The silent sanctuary of the void.

The black throne located in the middle of the massive cathedral.

The Ascendant’s body, perched on the edge of it, was looking down at Lenok with his eyes open, as if nothing had happened.

Skin as dark as ink. Pure white hair that had been bleached.

And two eyes that burned brightly between his dark eyelids.

He tilted his head, resting his chin on his hand, and smiled at Lenok, who was speechless.

“I’ve been waiting.”