Necromancer Of The Black Bible (121)

As she cast the spell, mana began to gather around Emma’s spirit form.

Pure crimson mana.

That mana soaked into Emma’s heart, and the Mana Rings bound to her heart began spinning rapidly.

The rotation drew in even more mana.

The same phenomenon that had occurred when she previously cast Agnyssed.

Emma smiled faintly.

Soon her magic would trigger.

Then divine flame would descend upon the ice dragon before her, and that ultimate fire would evaporate it entirely.

‘I’m looking forward to it.’

As if answering her expectation, the mana gradually took on a red hue and began to whirl.

But only for a moment.

The vortex failed to grow larger, and only then did Emma sense that something was wrong.

“…!”

Emma’s pupils trembled.

Surely by now the spell should have activated and the flames should be pouring out.

Yet the magic did not trigger.

Instead, the fiery vortex surrounding her spirit form was dwindling.

‘What on earth is happening?’

Emma looked at the ice dragon that was looking down at her vacantly.

It didn’t seem like it had done anything in particular.

It simply watched her.

Seeing its swelling chest, it looked as if it was gathering energy for a second breath.

The moment she realized that, Emma could guess what her mistake had been.

‘The mana… is insufficient.’

For some reason, the mana that had gathered through her draconic words was weak.

Originally the violently amassed mana should have erupted, but it did not now.

As time passed, even the mana that had gathered was fading and dispersing.

By the time the flames that had been swirling around her had all died down.

The ice dragon’s thought reached her.

[How immature. A faint little flame.]

At that moment, what Emma saw was the ice dragon with its wings spread wide and a blue light spewing from its mouth.

That light engulfed her spirit form entirely, and she lost consciousness.

Belphages could not believe his eyes.

That Erisia would be dealt such a helpless fate.

Above all, the appearance of the ancient Frost Dragon was most puzzling.

‘A dragon appearing at this timing? Could it be…’

Belphages looked at the Lord of Frost Qairas beside him.

Until a moment ago he had seemed sluggish, but now he was different.

His eyes, glowing blue, were fixed on the dragon roaring into the void.

Krrrroarrrr-

Along with that, the dragon’s entire body began to glow blue.

That light froze all the water that had melted from the fire until now. A fierce blizzard began to rage in the sky.

Only then did Qairas speak.

“You overestimated the enemy.”

“……”

Belphages remained silent.

Because everything had played out as he had said.

Erisia had shown tremendous power, yet it ended like this.

Due to the appearance of the ancient Frost Dragon.

‘By the way…’

Belphages watched the dragon rising from the completely frozen field.

The dragon Pentacrios, whose power is opposed to his mother, Eckhart.

He had heard that it was about a hundred years younger than his mother, but to Belphages that wasn’t a significant difference.

He hadn’t expected such a being to dwell in the northern part of the subterranean demon realm—still within the Lord of Frost’s domain.

“May I ask why that dragon is here, Demon King?”

Belphages bowed deeply as he asked.

Qairas smiled faintly and spoke.

“It’s an oath from the predecessors. Just know it as such.”

Though much was omitted from that statement, he roughly understood.

‘One of the ancestors must have made a promise—to protect their kin.’

Frost Demons and Frost Dragons.

They share the same attribute and possess intelligence, so an alliance between them isn’t so strange.

Belphages blamed himself for not realizing this sooner.

In an instant, Belphages formed an ice pillar and looked up at the dragon perched atop it.

It seemed to be surveying Qairas’s entire domain, checking for further threats.

Qairas looked at Belphages and continued.

“Thanks for the warning. Because of you we could respond quickly.”

“I’m glad I could help, even like this.”

“You’re not like a demon at all.”

Qairas skimmed Belphages with a bluish gaze.

He continued speaking.

“Usually uninvited guests aren’t welcomed, but your information was useful. As a recompense, I’ll send you back safely.”

Belphages smiled without showing it on his face and replied.

“Thank you for your hospitality. I will take my leave.”

He bowed deeply to Qairas once more, and Qairas waved his hand toward the soldiers around him.

Those who were blocking Belphages’ path stepped aside.

Having finished his farewell, Belphages descended the hill along that path.

He descended until the Frost Demons were no longer in sight, then used shadow magic to slip into the frozen forest.

A frozen forest where the entire woods were petrified with ice.

Climbing up a tree at the forest’s entrance, he looked at the place where the battle had been—now flattened into a plain.

‘Is it really over like this?’

If so, then it’s fortunate.

The pursuit would stop, and he wouldn’t be captured and killed.

But his instincts told him this was not the end.

His heart, sensitive since birth, kept sending cold sensations, and his spine still tingled.

As if he had become a small creature standing before an absolute being.

‘This feeling is very bad.’

Belphages wrapped his arms around himself and looked at a large ice crystal in the center of the plain.

Inside it, Erisia was frozen, and even from this distance her spirit form was clearly visible.

Studying it carefully, Belphages reached two conclusions.

‘For some reason, Erisia’s magic failed. And Pentacrios’s breath can even freeze a spirit form.’

But even so, could that mean he could defeat the man shown in Astarene’s earlier footage?

The man who had instantaneously defeated the Crimson Dragon Eckhart, who was on par with Pentacrios?

No matter how he thought about it, it didn’t add up.

The forces of the Lord of Frost, including Pentacrios, could never handle him.

So why hadn’t that man appeared until now?

Erisia had been reduced to such a state.

What was that man’s original goal?

Belphages’ thoughts grew deep.

Even Astarene only knew she had become his target; she hadn’t explained why she was targeted.

‘Is his goal to annihilate the entire Eckhart clan?’

There are many doubts about accepting that explanation so simply.

He killed the host and the youngest, and then the sixth, the first, and the second.

So the third sister Astarene came to seek his help, during which Erisia awakened and killed the third sister.

After that, he even tried to kill Belphages himself.

So did he come all the way here because Belphages was the only remaining member of the Eckhart clan?

‘Why on earth?’

Belphages had already severed ties with his family.

Would he roam this place to kill someone who had already severed family ties?

Frankly, it doesn’t make sense.

Belphages stroked the crystal orb he kept in his bosom and closed his eyes.

The orb containing the memory of Erisia he had replayed not long ago.

Through it he reviewed the footage he had seen then.

A man captured from Erisia’s viewpoint.

Pale skin and eyes tinged with red.

And the greenish ominous aura flowing from those eyes.

Each time he saw it, Belphages felt his mind reel.

‘Why on earth did this man chase us? And why has he been pursuing me until now?’

As he asked himself that, he heard a sound from afar.

A sound so faint he couldn’t hear it without concentrating.

Belphages put the orb back into his bosom and focused on that sound.

Though the blizzard continued to rage, the sound did not fade.

It became clearer instead.

‘Something is approaching.’

Belphages opened his eyes wide, and a great rumble arose.

Kurrurrrung-

A tremor that shook everything before him.

The trees shook violently, forcing Belphages to grip a tree trunk tightly.

But the moment he held on with all his strength, the middle of the trunk crumbled.

Crack!

Belphages fell to the ground along with the broken tree trunk.

He was hurled onto the hard frozen snow, and the orb he kept in his bosom bounced out.

“Ugh!”

From the sudden impact, Belphages gritted his teeth and looked up at the sky.

At that moment he was horrified.

A huge hole had been rended in the ceiling where clouds would normally hang due to magic.

And something was revealing itself there.

Something made of pure white bone.

There was no flesh, but the form was familiar.

Above all, the horns on its head.

The seven horns rising like a crown made it clear who the owner of those bones was.

“Mother!”

Belphages shouted without realizing it.

He was not in his right mind.

He couldn’t control his emotions at his mother’s horrifying appearance.

“You damned wretch!”

In life, his mother Eckhart’s appearance had been noble and intimidating.

Her blood-red scales had exuded an aura that dared not be approached, and the seven towering horns had the majesty of a crown supporting the heavens.

And her golden eyes.

Facing them, one could not help but bow, feeling a noble dignity.

But the Eckhart Belphages now looked at was far from that.

Truly a corpse of bones alone.

Instead of the elegance and dignity she once possessed, only a vulgar ferocity remained.

And the eyes, with green sinister aura flowing from them, sent a dizzying terror like the one seen in the orb’s footage.

“No way!”

Belphages stared at Eckhart with widened eyes.

Seven massive horns, and beyond them a single shadow was visible.

It was small, but it was definitely human.

The same man seen in the orb’s footage.

“You truly…!”

Belphages could not finish his sentence and stared at the man.

The Eckhart he rode descended swiftly—directly to the top of the ice pillar where the ancient Frost Dragon Pentacrios rested.

Pentacrios seemed to have just noticed Eckhart and lifted its head, and at that moment Eckhart unleashed a breath.

A greenish breath more ominous and sinister than any demon’s.

The breath engulfed Pentacrios entirely in an instant.

The magic that had been cast over this place was undone.

The clouds that had shrouded the ceiling vanished, and the blizzard dissipated.

The ice hills and plains that had filled the landscape all disappeared.

What remained was a desolate land and withered traces.

Over it, Pentacrios rolled, shrouded in the greenish breath.