The Shadowed Legacy of the Soulless Messenger [EN]: Chapter 497

The black ice citadel had four spires, and on the eastern one was placed the Eye of Ashajite, one of the Nether’s envoys [a powerful being from another dimension].

The massive eye continuously bled, and that blood became sustenance for vampires, wights, and other undead that needed to consume to exist.

From the Eye of Ashajite, located at the top of the spire, hot blood gushed down, flowing along the decorative fountains made of stone and bone, reaching the lower levels of the tower.

Wight knights led by Sork gathered here to drink the blood, and the blood that fell to the lower levels became nourishment for ghouls and zombies.

At the very top of the tower, Midiam, bound to a pillar, groaned at the gruesome sight.

“Lord Sork, is this the world you desire?”

The one who had bound Midiam, the death knight Sork, nodded calmly despite Midiam’s accusation.

“Indeed. By becoming undead, a true awakening of humanity, freed from the desires of the flesh, is achieved.”

Lord Sork viewed becoming undead as an ideal state.

Being an orc, he had always suffered from hunger.

To satisfy his constant hunger, eating would cause his muscles to grow excessively, even threatening his life.

He had wanted to be free from this situation, and by becoming undead, he was freed from his appetite for the first time.

He absolutized this experience, believing that becoming undead was the way to transcend the limitations of the flesh and become a being of pure spirit.

If he could turn everyone in the world into undead and free them from the shackles of the flesh, wouldn’t the ideals and virtues of the Knights Templar [a historical military order known for their religious zeal] finally be spread to all?

Sork, who revered the ideals of the Knights Templar, created the Fimbul Horde with this conviction.

“You might think that way because you’re an orc, but most humans don’t. For humans, the desires of the flesh are also essential. Think about it. Novels, poems, sonnets, music, performances, paintings, sculptures—all of human culture would not have been created without the desires of the flesh. What you’re doing by turning humans into undead is destroying human culture and severing civilization.”

“Those will be made into wights. Wights have desires for the flesh.”

Wights are undead beings with carnal desires, but their desires lead to destructive and terrible consequences.

They can never be the same as living humans, and the fact that he equates them is suffocating. It’s pointless to even try to figure out where things went wrong. Midiam was so dumbfounded that she sneered.

“Ah, so you’re going to turn artists into wights to maintain their desires? And you’ll decide who becomes an artist and who doesn’t? What arrogance is that?”

To persuade Sork, she shouldn’t sneer or accuse him. But Midiam couldn’t help but lash out.

Sork, however, nodded as if he understood Midiam’s accusations.

“I know it’s arrogant, Empress. But realistically, to overcome Fimbulvert and fight against the Nether’s forces, a bit of arrogance is necessary.”

“Is that why you kidnapped me by force and are trying to turn me into an undead because you couldn’t persuade anyone? You’re forcing your arrogance on the world. Isn’t that excessive tyranny?”

“Because I’m an orc… my sensibilities are different from other races, so it’s hard to communicate. I’m well aware that I’m weak in interpersonal relationships. I’m truly sorry, Empress.”

Sork had no intention of being persuaded. He was just using the excuse that he was an orc for his lack of eloquence and seemed determined to push his own agenda.

Sork cast a spell on Midiam, trying to turn her into an undead while she was still alive. Midiam tried her best to gather her magical power to resist Sork’s magic.

Initially, surprisingly, they were evenly matched. Sparks of magical power flew between Midiam and Sork, creating a barrier.

However…

“Don’t resist, Empress. It’s dangerous!”

As Sork increased his output slightly, Midiam’s magical power began to crumble rapidly.

Even the intelligent Empress of the Herald Clan could not find an answer in the face of the death knight who had built this massive magical fortress.

But at the moment of crisis, it was surprisingly the Nether’s envoys who saved Midiam.

-Kwarururung!

A massive giant appeared from the southeast with thunder and lightning.

A huge fish-headed, tentacled, seaweed-covered fish-man monster was heading towards Sandokar along the river, and countless Nether forces were moving beneath it.

Another Nether force, the Grimslown trees, grew all at once, trying to protect humanity from the approaching Nether forces, but the giant monster slowly lifted its leg and kicked away the growing Grimslown trees.

The Grimslown trees, kicked by the monster’s foot, shattered, and their fragments flew high into the sky.

Some even flew as far as the Sandokar ice citadel, dozens of miles away.

“It’s not the time to leisurely conduct a ritual.”

Sork left Midiam and raised his sword, then pointed it north and began to chant a spell.

“Arise, Necro Titan!”

*********

The massive corpse that the undead had been creating, the Necro Titan, began to activate.

As countless wraiths flying in the sky were sucked into the Necro Titan’s body, red light appeared in the Necro Titan’s eyes, and ectoplasm flowed all over its body, protecting its muscles.

The parts of the body made of stitched-together corpses that were still missing or torn while moving were filled with black magical ice, and the giant slowly rose, touching the ground.

-Kururururung!

The roar that shook the heavens and the earth echoed just from it rising.

Midiam had no choice but to cover her ears from the roar that vibrated her insides.

The Necro Titan, having risen, slowly walked towards the fish-man monster.

The fish-man monster also emerged from the river, heading straight for the Necro Titan.

Both moved slowly, but with each step, they strode dozens of yards, and each time, vibrations and shockwaves spread in all directions.

And the moment they approached, a huge piece of ice grew on the Necro Titan’s fist.

The Necro Titan raised its hand, which had turned into a lump of ice, and slammed its fist into the fish-man monster’s face.

-Twack!

The ice shattered, and the black magic trapped inside the ice exploded, causing countless wraiths to pour out.

The wraiths, freed from the broken ice, poured down and attacked the countless Nether forces beneath the Necro Titan and the monster.

The fish-man monster also raised its hand with spiky fins and scratched the Necro Titan’s neck.

Ectoplasm and pieces of corpse flesh were torn away, creating a shockwave.

-Urrururung!

The earth’s vibrations reached the sky, and thunder roared, and lightning flashed repeatedly, casting the shadows of the Necro Titan and the fish-man monster upon the world.

It was like a battle of giants from the mythical age.

“My goodness…”

Midiam was shocked by the battle of giants unfolding before her eyes.

But then, a magical flame rose in front of her and wrote letters on the ground.

‘Are you alright? Empress?’

“Ah?!”

Startled, Midiam turned around and saw Ismail hiding behind the blood fountain.

Surprisingly, Ismail had come all the way here to save her.

Midiam showed him the handcuffs on her hands. They weren’t locked with a key but were made of Sork’s black ice, so they couldn’t be easily removed.

Ismail gave up on the handcuffs on Midiam’s hands and went for the chains that were binding her to the pillar.

While Lord Sork was distracted controlling the Necro Titan, he quietly drew upon the most powerful and pure lunar magic of the Flower, Bird, Wind, and Moon [a specific type of magic].

-Flower, Bird, Wind, and Moon, Dark Moon!

Ismail pulled out a small obsidian dagger and swung it. The chains were cut without a sound.

Midiam was still wearing the handcuffs, but at least she was free from the pillar.

Midiam and Ismail carefully moved down along the blood fountain, avoiding Sork’s gaze.

The wights hanging on the blood fountain were busy fighting Jibek’s group, who had arrived at the bottom of the spire.

“What happened? Ismail? How did you get here?”

“Of course, I came to save you, Empress. Let me see that ice handcuff!”

Ismail tried to use Dark Moon again, but his sword wasn’t gathering magic.

He must have lost a significant amount of energy from using Dark Moon earlier.

“It’s okay! Let’s just go with this on!”

“Yes! Everyone! We’ve rescued the Empress! Let’s escape! Excuse us!”

Ismail said that and picked up Midiam.

*********

On his first day participating in the Herald Clan’s joint training, Ismail intuitively knew that he was superior to the other children.

He was stronger, smarter, and more agile than other children his age.

Even more so than his older brothers.

But because of that, he became a great concern for his parents and brothers.

‘Ismail. Never, ever have other thoughts and be loyal to your master.’

‘We must not become heralds.’

‘If we become heralds, it will only be when the master wants us to be heralds.’

He remembers his parents’ frightened eyes.

The eyes of slaves who were more worried about what their child would get caught up in than happy about their talent.

Ismail hated the servile appearance of his parents and brothers.

But he couldn’t help it.

His family had been slaves of the Etar bloodline for generations.

To atone for the sin of their ancestor, who had committed a great crime against the Etar bloodline and was captured, they had been forever paying for their ancestor’s sin…

Also, to obtain the various material conveniences and protection provided by the Etar bloodline, they had willingly devoted everything to the Etar bloodline.

And perhaps, if the Etar bloodline wanted, they would willingly offer Ismail.

Ismail knew that intuitively, and indeed, after that, the Etar family designated him.

‘We will use Ismail as a page.’

Such a message came.

*********

Before leaving home for the Etar bloodline’s mansion, his parents and brothers repeatedly told Ismail.

Never go against the elders of the Etar bloodline.

Satisfy them like the tongue in your mouth.

Would this be the result of molding a servile, lowly, and humiliating soul into the shape of a human?

Ismail had lost all respect for his own bloodline.

If he could, he wanted to draw out their dirty blood from his body, but he was still young.

The weight he carried was so heavy that a young child alone could not go against the current while carrying the burden and fulfill his own will.

He had thought about escaping, but he had often heard stories of men becoming pregnant and dying after giving birth due to the curse of servitude.

Even the child born that way was said to be a blind and talentless Muan Azadin [a member of the Herald Clan]. A cursed child too shameful to be called a Herald Clan member.

He couldn’t become such a thing, even if he died. But even that curse was activated for the five founding families, including the Etar bloodline?

Eventually, as he left for the Etar bloodline’s mansion, young Ismail resolved then.

If the child of the Etar clan who takes him as a page is a worthless one…

He would surely make him his nourishment.

He would grow stronger by any means and strike him in the back of the head.

Although he was still young, Ismail made that resolution.