novelzi Chapter 172: Tiger (1)
Chapter 172: Tiger (1)
Chapter 172: Tiger (1)
In the forests of the unexplored region, where demonic energy swirled and trees of dark power writhed with unnatural vitality, their thorned vines twisting through the air like creeping shadows, Allen sat motionless
"One... two... three..." Allen murmured, counting the stars scattered across the night sky.
Allen closed his eyes as the faint glow of distant lights shimmered in his memory, like scattered embers in the vastness of the universe. The weight of his clan’s uncertain future settled over him, heavy and unrelenting, pressing into the corners of his mind.
"Is it permitted for you to step away from your post while still on a mission?"
At the sound of a sudden voice, Allen turned toward its source, and there stood Lillia Primien.
“Take this,” Primien said, handing Allen a folder.
Lillia Primien was a woman whom the Great Elder once lauded as destined to be a beacon of hope for their clan.
“Read it, then burn it immediately, Allen.”
Report on Scarletborn Village: Terror Tactics of the Scarletborn
Report on the Management of the Scarletborn Concentration Camp and the Execution of Inmates
Development of Bethan's Distinction Magic
Report on the Proposal for the Gas Chambers in the Concentration Camp
Report on the Expansion of Roharlak Concentration Camp
The documents covered four key topics, each related to the systematic suppression of the Scarletborn, and contained highly classified information.
"Gas chamber?" Allen asked, stopping at one of the topics on the list.
"A sealed chamber filled with toxic gas—a deranged plan designed to slaughter our clan," Primien explained.
Allen pressed his lips together, his thoughts churning. The continent had descended into ruin, and he wondered if the Scarletborn’s only sin was their very existence.
"How long do you plan to keep up this act with Deculein? Once this legislation takes effect, it will be too late."
Allen studied Primien intently; her face, a mask of calm, concealed the quiet turbulence of unspoken thoughts stirring beneath the surface.
“Do you know what the Professor said to me?” Allen asked.
Primien shook her head and said, "Deculein’s name is all over those documents. Your professor has personally signed off on much of it."
“But not for the gas chambers.”
“... Even so, the Professor’s role in the oppression is indisputable. He has claimed more Scarletborn lives than a cart could ever carry.”
Among the Scarletborn forced to hide in the shadows, Deculein’s name inspired a terror surpassing death. To them, being claimed by a tiger’s jaws seemed a mercy compared to falling into his hands.
"He even sent children to be imprisoned in Roharlak," Primien added.
“But no children have died there,” Allen countered. “And the Professor said that children are different. He believes that, in every world, one thing is indisputable and that no child should bear the weight of guilt.”
Primien clicked her tongue in thought. The one who had once been the coldest among their clan had shifted so drastically, leaving her to wonder what it was that Allen had seen in Deculein to bring about such a change.
"The higher-ups have called for the professor's assassination."
“No. The Great Elder would never issue such an order—”
“Alesol wishes for it. Your own blood relative."
Alesol—a name long forgotten—pulled Allen’s attention toward Primien.
“The Great Elder doesn’t have much time left, and his life is nearing its end. With Karixel confined in Roharlak, Alesol will soon take command of the Scarletborn,” Primien added.
“If the Professor is assassinated, the oppression of the Scarletborn will only escalate,” Allen said.
"It means she would rather wage war than stand by, watching our people suffocate, trapped and slaughtered in gas chambers."
Primien felt the tension closing in around her, like a tightening noose she could neither escape nor ignore. In recent days, the weight had only grown heavier. Bethan’s invention, the distinction magic, loomed like a dark storm on the horizon. That damned blood magic crept ever closer, its shadow soon to fall upon the senior officials.
“It’s a gas chamber, Allen,” Primien added. “Never in the history of this continent has there been a slaughter of humans like this before.”
“... And you, Primien? Do you want me to kill the professor?” Allen asked, his voice void of emotion.
Primien offered no response, her silence rooted in the fact that Deculein, too, held a special place in her memories.
Primien met Allen’s eyes in silence, then shook her head and replied, “You should leave him by winter. Being in Rekordak, you’ll find a natural way to escape the area. A new identity has already been arranged. And even if you don’t kill him, Alesol will still find another way to kill Deculein.”
“... I have to go back now,” Allen said, rising to his feet.
Allen stepped forward, and with that single step, he crossed miles, disappearing from the forest in the blink of an eye.
Left alone, Primien glanced at her watch. The time read 4:13 a.m., and she figured Deculein was probably waking by that time.
***
Scritch scritch— Scritch scritch—
With my fountain pen in hand, I wrote the spells and magic circles, shaping the final remote exam for the advanced lecture.
1. The following magic circle is based on Iron Man’s theory. Analyze its structure, interpret its purpose, and predict the effects and outcomes of the spell in detail.
This question encapsulated the core and essence of everything I had taught. If an answer key existed—or if a student managed to provide a proper response—it would rival the length and depth of any scholarly thesis.
Therefore, the difficulty, I dare say, is nothing short of extreme.
Scritch scritch— Scritch scritch—
The exam questions I had created so far spanned seven pages, consuming nearly 5,000 mana in the process. With six questions planned but none entirely completed, I estimated that it would take over 80,000 mana and nearly two weeks to finish them.
Scritch scritch— Scritch scritch—
Half of my mana had already been drained, fueling Comprehension, when my eyes drifted to the clock—it read 5:00 a.m.
Knock, knock—
A knock came at just the right moment, and with a flick of my wrist, I opened the door.
“Professor, I hope you’ve been well,” Primien said, tilting her body slightly as she stood just beyond the threshold.
"... Primien? What brings you here?" I asked.
"I have a matter that requires your attention. May I step inside?"
I nodded, and she approached quietly before settling into a chair. A brief silence hung in the air as I took in her appearance—the deputy director of the Ministry of Public Safety, bundled in a thickly padded coat and a fur-lined hat, as though she had stepped out of a snowbound expedition, resembling an Eskimo.
"You don’t appear to enjoy the cold," I said.
"That’s correct."
"I thought you were from the Northern Region."
"Primien is Scarletborn, and so is Deculein’s assistant."
However, they could not be faulted for their carelessness in being discovered. After all, the demonic forest of the Land of Destruction was uninhabitable, a place where no living soul could survive. Thus, it was only natural that no ears were present to overhear anything there.
Additionally, Sylvia’s spell, Wind, developed just for Deculein, had now reached a level so advanced that only those nearing the rank of Archmage could even detect it.
A Scarletborn stood at Deculein’s side. A Scarletborn who harbored a grudge against him. A Scarletborn who had received orders to assassinate him now lurked at his feet.
There are Scarletborn by Deculein's side—Scarletborn who bear deep grudges against him. Scarletborn, who has commanded Deculein’s death now waits in silence, Sylvia thought, closing her eyes.
“No.”
However, she knew she could not just stand by. No—she could not allow herself to fade into the role of a silent bystander.
Deculein must die by my hand alone. The right to kill him is mine alone—I will never surrender it to the Scarletborn.
Sylvia rose slowly and stepped out of her temporary underground shelter into the world above. A world of white and biting cold greeted her, its silence profound as she treaded carefully over the snow-covered ground.
Crunch— Crunch—
She walked through the snowfield, leaving her footprints to mar its untouched surface.
***
Meanwhile, in the unexplored region, where the campfire crackled through the night, Epherene sat counting the number of monsters her team had hunted.
"One, two, three, four, five, six... That makes thirty-three for us."
They had defeated a total of thirty-three monsters—a significant achievement. Epherene couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of pride.
“What about you guys?” Epherene asked, addressing Yulie’s group, who had crossed paths with them and decided to join for a while.
“Hmm. It’s thirty-one for us. Congratulations,” Yulie replied.
"Hehe, oh, it looks like the food is almost ready," Epherene said as she pulled the pot and baked potatoes from the campfire. Tonight’s meal was chicken soup paired with steamed potatoes drizzled with ketchup. "Come on, everyone, let’s eat!"
While Epherene was dividing the food onto plates, Gwen, who had been sitting beside Drent, snapped her fingers as if she had just remembered something. From her coat, she pulled out a set of documents.
"Right, Yulie, would you like to take a look at this?" Gwen said.
“... What is this?” Yulie asked.
“It’s a scouting report for mages, since you haven’t read it. There are more out there than just Deculein, you know.”
“Oh!” Epherene exclaimed, her ears perking up as she handed a bowl of soup to Sirio and quickly joined them. “Can I see it too? A report about the Professor...”
Epherene’s words tumbled out with excitement, but she soon hesitated after checking Yulie’s reaction.
“It’s alright. Let’s read it together,” Yulie replied, nodding slightly.
“Oh, okay... Thank you!” Epherene said as she carefully moved closer and settled herself beside her.
Imperial Knights’ Order Scouting Report
“This is confidential. Don’t tell anyone I shared it with you,” Gwen said.
Yulie nodded at Gwen's words and began reading through the report, its pages made from exquisitely refined material.
At that moment...
Krrooooaaaaaaaaarrrr—!
A ferocious roar shook the earth beneath their feet, and both teams immediately tensed, their eyes wide as they gripped their weapons and cloaked themselves in auras. Instantly, the air grew still—ominously and unnaturally quiet. In that silence, Epherene felt she knew the source of the terrifying cry.
"It’s a t-t-tiger," Epherene stuttered, her bracelet flaring with vibrant colors as the memory of the tiger’s majesty from the World of the Voice made her breath catch in her chest.
“Shh. Don't panic. Fortunately, it’s far from here,” Yulie said.
The earth quivered with the residual echo of the thunderous roar, a ripple of power capable of shattering the heavens and sundered mountains, followed by waves of mana rippling outward like a blade, brushing against their skin.
Whoooosh...
"Guys? This is no joke," Gwen said.
Not only was Epherene gripped with unease, but Yulie, Gwen, Sirio, and the other knights also felt a shiver run through them, their skin prickling with a chilling sense of dread.
"Sangun?" Debrun murmured, his expression grave, the weight of the word lingering in the air.
Epherene turned to him in shock and repeated, "San... gun?"
Sangun, the apex of all tigers of supremacy—a being so powerful that even Archmage Demakan or Guardian Knight Gefrid could not hope to claim certain victory against it.
“No, this is not Sangun. If it were the great Sangun, we would have nothing to fear,” Yulie said.
As Yulie explained, Sangun is like a sage who has transcended the Mortal Realm—a being far removed from worldly concerns. It would never stoop to engage in conflict with humans or demonic beasts, nor would it unleash such violent and thunderous roars.
“... It's Daeho,” Gwen said.
Daeho, just beneath Sangun in rank, was a tiger bound to the Mortal Realm—a sovereign beast radiating power and dominance with every movement.
"From the sound of its roar, it seems to be more of an Akho," Gwen said.
“A-Akho...” Epherene whispered, her breathing growing heavier with each passing moment.
Akho, the Malicious Tiger—a beast with a wicked nature that challenges, destroys, and kills everything it encounters. Far deadlier than any demonic beast, it stands as a predator ruled entirely by its cruel instincts.
Krooarrr—!
With the third roar, a tremendous explosion erupted in the distant ridge. Mana surged wildly, distorting the entire mountain range as though it were writhing in agony.
"It is clear that it must be Daeho. We should retreat for now, and I’ll inform the other teams as well," Yulie said, lifting the crystal orb in her hand.
Of course, that thunderous roar must have echoed far and wide; however, protocol required it to be formally logged through the central communication system.
“This is Yulie reporting. A Daeho has been sighted—”
At that moment, a jarring alarm, like a bell of doom ringing in her mind, accompanied by the chill of imminent death, washed over her. Without hesitation, Yulie grabbed Epherene, throwing her onto her back, while Gwen did the same with Drent, and Sirio crouched, ready to sprint.
Krakaboooooom—!
A horizontal bolt of lightning cleaved the horizon, shattering all in its wake with a blinding cascade of brilliance. The earth trembled violently beneath the shockwave, warping the very air with its raw force.
From the heart of the chaos emerged a monstrous figure, its form shrouded in swirling mana, slick with blood. Its jaundiced eyes blazed with a sinister glow, exuding a suffocating aura of murderous intent.
Krrooarrr—!
The tiger dashed forward, leaving no trace behind—not even a fleeting shadow.
“Holy shit!”
In the blink of an eye, the massive tiger crossed the great distance, its jaws yawning wide as it hurled itself toward Yulie’s group...