Indra Translations
Navigation
A Cadet Becomes a Prophet?! Chapter 209

Chapter 209

It‍‍⁠ was a well-known‌‍ fact that the⁠‌​ corrupted preferred caves‍⁠​ and underground places.⁠

From​ their perspective, there‍ was no better‌‌ way to avoid‌ human eyes—nothing was‌ as secure as⁠‌ the depths.

— Gueeng.

And​​ so, the place‌‌⁠ Wooden pointed to‍ this time was‍‍ also a cave⁠‍⁠ in the middle⁠⁠‍ of the mountain.⁠‍‌

‘If‌‌⁠ the mithril is​‌‌ buried there, it⁠‍ makes sense.’

There⁠ was nothing special⁠ around the entrance​​ covered in underbrush.⁠​ Just a few‌ orcs that seemed‍ to have nested​‌ there before.

“Let’s‌ proceed with the‌ entrance.”

The‌ knights of the‍⁠‍ Red Turtle Order‍‍​ advanced with their‍⁠ shields raised.

The⁠​ interior of the‌ cave was not⁠⁠​ wide. Just enough⁠‍ for two grown‍ men to stand​ side by side.⁠ With armor, only‌‍​ one knight could‍​⁠ fit through at‌‌​ a time.

That’s​⁠ why the one‌ advancing was Harten,⁠‍ the most reliable,⁠⁠ with a shield⁠​‌ in one hand​ and a sword‍ in the other.​‌⁠

The​⁠ darkness was no‍⁠‌ obstacle for them.​

Splash.⁠⁠‍

The⁠ floor was damp,⁠⁠‍ sticky, with a metallic stench. Under‌​‌ the light of⁠​ magical lamps, greenish‌⁠ decaying puddles were‍‌​ revealed.

“What⁠⁠ a perfect environment.”⁠‍‌

If‌‍ not in places​​​ like this, where‌⁠ else would the‌ corrupted be? murmured⁠ Rosalia.

After‍ advancing a good‍​⁠ stretch, the passage​ widened, and the⁠​ slope sharply descended.‍⁠

“How⁠⁠‍ far must we‌⁠ go?”

“We’re‌​ almost there.”

According‍​ to the prophetic‍‌ book, by following​‌⁠ the tunnel downward,​​‌ a large chamber‍ would open.

It​⁠⁠ wasn’t natural—the corrupted⁠ had formed it‍ by digging in‍ search of mithril.​​‍ That’s why it⁠ was unstable.

In‍ that vision, Aint​‌‌ had fought monsters‍‍ and barely managed‍ to escape after‌​⁠ the chamber collapsed.‌‍‌ But here Fernan​⁠‍ was in person,‌⁠‍ so that problem​ didn’t worry him.‍⁠‍

The‌‍ real concern was‌‍​ the mithril.

‘What‌‍ if we’ve arrived‍‍‍ too late and‍‍‍ they’ve already destroyed‍‌⁠ it?’

If‍⁠‌ the mithril had​ been ruined, he​‌‌ wouldn’t leave any​‍⁠ of them alive.​⁠ He didn’t plan‍ to anyway, but‌‌ in that case,⁠​⁠ their suffering would​⁠‌ be greater.

Creak.‌‍‍

Suddenly,‌​ not far ahead,‌​​ corrupt magic was‍​‌ felt. His skin‌ bristled.

— Kyuu!

‘Left!’​‍

He​ and Wooden felt‌ it at the​​⁠ same time.

Fernan‍⁠​ moved his mana—an‍‍​ iron wall sealed‍⁠ the corridor.

“A‌‌ monster?”

An‌‌​ instant later, Rosalia‌​⁠ noticed it too.⁠​‌

“Monsters‍⁠‌ approaching!”

The​‌ Red Turtle knights⁠​ raised their guard.‍‌‍

Boom!​ The wall trembled.⁠‍⁠ In the dent⁠​​ appeared the face‍​⁠ of a fifth-rank‍‌ monster, a Zikrik.‌‌

Immediately,​ the iron wall‍ turned into spears⁠⁠‌ that pierced through⁠ the creature’s body.‍‍⁠ Dark blood dripped,​ mixing with the‌⁠ foul water. The‌⁠ stench intensified.

That⁠⁠ was the beginning.​ From all directions,‍​‌ more monstrous presences.⁠‍

“Fernan,‍⁠ your senses are‌‍⁠ much sharper.”

Rosalia‌‍⁠ said it with‍ a surprised tone.⁠​

“Yes,⁠ what’s happening is…”‍‌

‘Wait‌ a moment? Did​⁠‍ I just sense​​⁠ it at the⁠ same time as‍‍​ Wooden?’

He⁠ hadn’t done anything‍ special—he simply sensed‍‌ it instinctively. His⁠‍ body screamed that‍‍ monsters were coming.⁠

‘Dragon‍‌​ senses?’

It‍‌​ seemed that at​​​ least against corrupted‌​ energy, they were‌‍‍ much more refined.⁠‌

‘Not‌⁠ bad.’

In‍‌‍ fact, it was​​ excellent. But he‌ had no time⁠‍ to relish it—monsters‌ advanced from all​​ sides.

“Sir‌‌ Harten, don’t get​ distracted, keep advancing.”‌​⁠

The‌⁠‌ knight nodded.

Rosalia⁠⁠​ recited a spell.​ Her staff shone‌⁠‍ with cold light.‌ The surrounding passages​‌‍ froze; a thin‍‌​ frost covered the‍‍⁠ walls.

And‌‍‌ then.

—!‍‍‍

—!​⁠⁠

The​‌ Zikrik crashed against​ the icy ground,‌​‌ unable to continue‌ digging.

Roooaar!​

Shadows​‌ emerged: Shade, eighth-rank‍ monsters, passed through​​‌ the earth as‍⁠‌ if it didn’t​​​ exist. But a rain of cutting‍ auras awaited them.⁠‍

Hundreds‌ of Shades were⁠‌ shredded. No matter‍ how many there‍‍ were, without taking‍ physical form, they⁠‌⁠ lacked real power.‌​‍ Normally, the Zikrik‌‍​ would clear the‌ way while they⁠‌‌ bought time, but⁠‌ Rosalia’s magic had⁠ broken the plan.⁠‌‍

The‌‌‍ enemies changed strategy:‍ from zones the​ ice hadn’t reached,​‌‌ Zikrik and Shades⁠‍‌ appeared ahead and‍‌ behind to block‍​ the path. In​⁠‍ the narrow tunnel,⁠​​ the Shades, taking⁠⁠‌ the form of​ orcs, showed brutal‍‌ ferocity.

“Keep‍ moving! Push forward​‌​ without stopping!”

“Yes,​ young master!”

Fernan‍​ opened and closed‌‌ his hand. Immediately,⁠‌ rock thorns emerged⁠ and pierced through‍ the monsters, vanishing‍​⁠ afterward. Those who​⁠ survived were finished⁠‌‍ off by the⁠ knights.

After⁠ running for a while, the path⁠ finally opened. The‍ oppression disappeared, the​‍ view expanded.

A towering ceiling, an‌​ immense chamber, filled‍‌ with monsters.

Hundreds‌‌ of red eyes‍‍‍ watched them. The‍⁠ enemies that had‌​ followed stopped—they were​⁠ completely surrounded.

“Young‍​ master, are we‌​‌ sure about this?​⁠ Maybe we should​​‌ retreat…”

Then.​⁠‍

“If⁠​‌ you entered, you‍‍ have no right‌‍⁠ to leave.”

The⁠⁠⁠ voice, low but‍ clear, sent chills‍​‌ through everyone. It‍‌ echoed like scraping​ metal.

—!​‍⁠

From‌​‌ behind the rocks⁠⁠ came a surge‍‌ of black magic.⁠⁠ Cold, fierce, merciless.⁠‌‌ It instinctively provoked‍​ fear and disgust.‍

“Entering​‍‌ is free, leaving⁠ is not.”

The‌‍ air became heavy.‍⁠ The pressure filled​ the chamber.

“So⁠​‌ you are Fernan‍ Pellenberg, right?”

From‍‍ behind the rock‍ emerged the figure.⁠‍

He​ wasn’t over two‍​ meters tall. But‍​ nothing about him⁠ was human.

A perfect body as‌‌ if sculpted by⁠ a master artisan,‍⁠ crowned with the⁠​ head of a beast.

“Just⁠‌ like that man​ said.”

With⁠​​ a black spear‍‍ like the night,‌ the demon scanned⁠⁠ everyone present with‌⁠ his yellow eyes​​ filled with savage​​‍ instinct.

“They‌​ say in the‍⁠ human world there’s​‌⁠ someone even more‌‍ troublesome than our‌​‍ ancient enemies.”

He​‌‍ raised his hand.‌⁠ In it gleamed​⁠ a chunk of‌ greenish-blue mineral.

“That​ we had to⁠ eliminate him first,‍ and that if⁠⁠ we waited with‍‍‍ this useless stone‍⁠ in hand, someday⁠ he’d walk in‌⁠ on his own.”​​‍

And​​⁠ he had waited.‌ Waited without rest.‌​‌

“Luckily,‌⁠ you came before‌‍⁠ my patience ran⁠‍​ out.”

The​ beast let out‌⁠​ an excited breath.​

“Fernan‌‌ Pellenberg.”

His​‍‍ eyes stared directly​ at him. Hyde​‍‍ instinctively stepped forward‌ to protect him.‌​

“You’re‌‌⁠ him, right?”

“…I⁠ am Pellenberg.”

The‌‌ pressure increased. Fernan‌‍​ clenched his teeth,‌ raised his mana,​​ and the burden​⁠⁠ eased slightly.

“Then‌⁠‌ maybe I was‌ wrong.”

Black​‍​ hair, red eyes,‌‍‍ and an arrogant‍‍ face—I thought you⁠ were him, but​‌‌ it seems not.​‍

“Still,​ it doesn’t matter.”‌⁠‍

Either‍ way, everyone would⁠ die here.

“…Are⁠‍ you Flauros?”

“Oh,‌ a human who​​‍ knows my name?⁠‌​ Too bad you’re‍ not Fernan Pellenberg,‌​‍ but still, you’re‌ worth killing.”

Damn.‍⁠⁠ Fernan clenched his‌‌‍ lips. His heart‌‌ pounded.

Why‌⁠ was Flauros, who‌​ was supposed to‍‌ descend in Frazia,⁠ here? Why had​ they set this‍ trap? In the‌ prophecy, there wasn’t‌‍‌ a trace of‌​ a demon.

Regret‌​ hit him.

If‌ he had known,‌ he would have​ brought Aint at‍‌ any cost. Or​ hired the Mercenary‍ King, no matter⁠ the money.

But⁠ regrets always come​‌ too late.

“Fernan‌​⁠ Pellenberg, I thought‌​‌ you’d take more​​ pride in that‌⁠ surname.”

While​‌ he hesitated, Rosalia​ stepped forward.

She‍​ looked at the‌⁠ demon with her​⁠ usual expression—blank.

“…Fernan‍ Pellenberg, you said?​ So you lied‍⁠​ to me.”

Upon‌‌ hearing the name,‌‍ Flauros showed a flash of anger.‌

“To​‌ live, one must⁠‌‍ protect the family‌‍⁠ name.”

“That’s‌‍⁠ just like you.‍ But from the‌‌​ start, it wasn’t‍ necessary.”

Rosalia‌‌​ looked at him⁠​‌ directly.

“That​​ demon will disappear⁠⁠‍ today, right here.”‍‌⁠

“Pathetic​‌‌ human.”

The⁠ monster smiled, showing‌​⁠ his fangs.

“I⁠ admit you’re a mage of level.​‍‍ Perhaps even one‌‍​ of those Archmages‍⁠ humans revere.”

But⁠ in the end,‍​ still human. Flauros‍ was sure. Sure‌ he wouldn’t lose.​

“If‌ you truly are‌⁠ Fernan Pellenberg, perfect.​⁠‍ This tedious wait‍‌ ends here. I’ll‍‌⁠ kill everyone and⁠​ unleash my fury​‌‍ on the surface.‌‍‌ Then I’ll make‍​ this world the‍ realm of demons.”​​

He‍ threw the chunk‍‍⁠ of mithril. Fernan,​⁠ by instinct, caught‍​ it.

“That⁠⁠ useless stone will‍‍ be the coin⁠⁠‍ for your…”

───!‍⁠

Faster‍ than his words,‌​ the black spear⁠ flew.

Boom!‍‌‌

The‌​ chamber trembled, ice⁠ shattered and fragments‍⁠ scattered. In the​ ice barrier Rosalia‍‍ had conjured in‍‍​ an instant, the‌⁠‍ spear had embedded‍​​ halfway through.

“Well,‌‌ you stopped this​⁠ even though I threw it lightly?”⁠‍

“I‌​ didn’t just stop‍⁠ it.”

Rosalia’s​⁠‌ eyes gleamed. She​ recited a spell​‍ and drew a circle. A storm‍ of ice crystals⁠‌ lunged at Flauros.‌​​

“A⁠ useless trick.”

The​‍ demon resisted with‌‌‍ his bare body.‌ Then, a white​‍‍ lightning bolt struck⁠‌‍ him directly.

Crack!‍⁠

His‌ torso froze, and⁠ he fell from‌‌ the rock. As⁠‍ he lay there,‌‍⁠ Rosalia muttered.

“I‌⁠⁠ can’t stand someone‌‍‌ looking down on​‍​ me. This is​⁠⁠ how we equalize‌ the height.”

The‍⁠‍ ice shattered immediately.​​‍ Flauros smiled, amused.​⁠⁠

“Yes,‌ you have the‍‍⁠ power to be⁠ arrogant.”

But‍ at that instant,‍‌‍ dozens of flasks‍ shattered over him.​

With‍ a swing of⁠‍​ his spear, Flauros‌‌‍ broke them. The‌​ contents spilled—some to​‍ the ground, some​⁠ onto him.

Crackling!‍​

The​‌ holy water reacted​ fiercely on contact‌ with his body.⁠‌

“What​ a repulsive energy.”‍‌⁠

His‍ expression hardened.

“You⁠‍ always carry holy⁠‍‌ water, huh?”

“I⁠ never forget it.”‌⁠‍

“Doesn’t​ seem to do‌⁠​ much.”

“A​​​ mosquito bite doesn’t‍​ kill, but it‍‍‌ itches and annoys.”​

To​⁠ a true demon,‍​ holy water was‌‌ nothing more than‍​ that.

“Support​‍⁠ me.”

“No,‌‌​ you should support⁠ me, Professor.”

“What​ do you mean?”​⁠⁠

Fernan‍ responded by removing​⁠⁠ his necklace.

— Kyuu!

Wooden​ transformed into a two-meter knight and‍‍ stepped forward. Facing‍‌ the demon, he⁠ couldn’t hide his‌‍‌ excitement.

His‌​ first battle had⁠‍ been against a demon, at his⁠⁠ most vulnerable.

Now⁠​ he had the⁠ chance to show​​ how much he‌⁠⁠ had changed since​⁠ then.

“…I‍​‌ see. Very well,⁠ I’ll support.”

“Let’s‍​ fight together.”

“I’ll‌‌​ protect the young‍⁠ master.”

“A‍​ golem?”

“A​‍ golem like this…?”⁠‌⁠

The⁠ two mages prepared‍‌‍ for battle, and​⁠ the guards stuck​ close to Fernan.⁠‌​

The‌​‌ Red Turtle Knights,‌ seeing Wooden for‌​⁠ the first time,⁠‌‍ looked confused, but​‍ there was no​ time to calmly⁠ explain.

“Everyone​⁠ escape from here!​‌​ This is not‍​⁠ a fight you‌ can endure!”

It‍⁠ was a cruel⁠ blow to the​‌‌ knights’ pride—but it⁠‌‍ was the truth.‍‍‌

They​‍‌ were far too​‍‍ valuable to be‍‌‍ lost in a place like this.‌‌⁠

Before‌‌⁠ they could respond,​ Wooden was the‍​‌ first to move.⁠

He‍⁠⁠ wielded the enormous‌‍‌ sword, charged it‌‍ with aura, and‌ drove it into‌​‌ the ground. In‌‌ an instant, space‌⁠⁠ tore and clashed​ against the demon.​‍

─!⁠‍

The​ broken aura and​ demonic magic intertwined.‌​⁠

“What‌⁠ is this? A mere cheap toy!”⁠

In​ a blink, dozens‌‍ of blows were⁠⁠ exchanged. Cold seeped‍‍ through the cracks‌ from Rosalia.

When​ the demon’s legs‌ froze, Wooden’s sword​ took advantage of‍​ the gap. Several‌ streams of aura‍ struck the monster’s⁠‍​ body.

But‌‌‍ with the rebound⁠ force, it was‌‌ Wooden who ended​ up pushed back.‌​

Sensing​‍​ Wooden wasn’t an‍‍‍ ordinary foe, Flauros‌ growled ferociously.

“Ha!​​ How could they⁠ create something like⁠‍‍ this? Pulling you‍​​ from the Academy​‌ was, without a doubt, the right‌⁠ decision.”

“What‌​ do you mean?”⁠​

“What‌‍‌ else? It means​ that place you​⁠ call the Cradle‌ will cease to​‍​ exist.”

The⁠ image of Silver​ suddenly flashed through‌⁠ Fernan’s mind.

So‍⁠⁠ that’s why the‌⁠‍ unease—and yet he‍‍ himself had said​ nothing was wrong.⁠​

“I‌‌ asked you what⁠‍ you mean.”

“Are‍‌ you that curious?‍⁠⁠ If you want⁠​‌ to know, go⁠​⁠ and see for‍‍​ yourself. Though you’ll‌ die by my‌‌ hand before you‌ get the chance.”​​

“Demons‍ are all equally⁠‌ arrogant.”

Rosalia‌⁠⁠ raised her gaze.⁠

An‍‍ icy ray that​‍​ froze everything surged​ in a straight​ line, and Wooden​⁠ followed closely behind.​

At​​​ the same time,​​‌ Fernan, who hadn’t​ stopped reciting spells,⁠ unleashed his magic.⁠

A steel lance infused‌ with the energy⁠​ of the Dragon’s‌ Heart, created to‍‌​ inflict lethal damage.‌⁠‍

Blood​​ dripped from Fernan’s‌ nose. The lances‌⁠‌ pushed through the⁠ gaps Wooden and​ Rosalia had created.‍⁠⁠

Crack!⁠⁠‌

The⁠ demon reacted to⁠‌ most of the⁠ attacks but couldn’t​ dodge one.

And​‍ that one struck‍ him directly in​ the abdomen.

“Kraaaaaaah!”‌‍​

But​‌ the effect was‌ far greater than​⁠ expected. More than​ the holy water,⁠​ more than Wooden’s⁠‌ sword, more than​‍⁠ Rosalia’s magic.

Flauros’s⁠⁠⁠ face turned pale​​ as the lance​‌ pierced him.

“You…‍‌⁠ you bastard…!”

His⁠​‍ eyes, wide with⁠ horror, locked directly‌‍ on Fernan.

“How​ is it possible‌⁠⁠ that you have​ that cursed power?!”‌​

“…What?”​‍

Cursed​ power?

Wasn’t‍‌‌ that the term​‌ demons used to​‍⁠ refer to Armian’s‍‌ power?

What did you think of this chapter?
0 reactions

0 Comments


There are no comments yet. Be the first!

Reader Settings
Page mode
Timer
Text Indent
Auto scroll
Tap to read
Pin menu
Translate page
Select language to automatically translate chapter content.
Audio & AI Voice
This chapter has pre-loaded audio
Ads Blocker Image Powered by Code Help Pro

Ads Blocker Detected!!!

We have detected that you are using extensions to block ads. Please support us by disabling these ads blocker.