The Death Mage Who Doesn t Want a Fourth TimeThe Death Mage Who Doesn t Want a Fourth Time
Heinz, the leader of the ‘Five-colored Blades,’ had lost count of how many times he had experienced temporary death. He had failed over and over – If only he had cut a little deeper, if only he had moved a little faster.
The enemies he fought against – the ‘Fallen Champion’ Zakkart, the Vampire Ancestor, gods that had fought fierce battles against the Demon King such as the Beast-God Ganpaplio, the Colossus God Zerno, and the Dragon Emperor-God Marduke – were vastly powerful to the point that it would be inadequate to describe them as ‘strong.’
And he had never defeated the Demon King Guduranis, not even once.
“With this, there are still four floors… five, including Guduranis. There’s still a long way to go,” Heinz sighed.
He was standing in the town that was now uninhabited after the destruction of Curatos, the God of Records, who was supposed to be in control of this place.
“I mean, we’re going at a pretty good pace, right? The gods were worried that we would never be able to clear it at all, but there are only five floors left,” said the martial artist Jennifer, who served as a front-line fighter for the ‘Five-colored Blades.’
At the cost of his life, Curatos had prevented Alda’s Dungeon of Trials from collapsing completely, but about a third of its floors had been destroyed and made unusable.
Thus, although the ‘Five-colored Blades’ had only progressed to the middle floors at the time, they’d been forced to start much deeper into the Dungeon – ten floors from the final floor.
That had been incredibly difficult. The enemies they’d had to face included the great gods such as Marduke and Zerno, as well as the Demon King Guduranis (his first form). As the copies’ movements had become simpler due to Curatos’s destruction, Heinz and his companions had managed to barely defeat them by suffering countless defeats and learning their behavior patterns, but… they didn’t even want to imagine what kinds of enemies were awaiting them on the remaining four floors.
They could understand why Alda, the God of Law and Fate, had been concerned about whether they would be able to clear the Dungeon.
Even though their deaths were temporary, they still felt the pain and sensations of dying, so it wouldn’t have been strange for them to break mentally.
“Indeed. If you and Edgar had not returned, we may have given up,” said Diana.
It hadn’t even been clear as to whether those whose souls had been wounded by Vandalieu would become able to fight again, especially Edgar.
But Heinz had been treated by the goddess worshiped by Diana – Mill, the Goddess of Slumber – and Edgar had been treated by a god whose name they hadn’t even been told. Thanks to them, both of them had returned in a perfect state far more quickly than had been expected.
“Yeah, you’re right. I was especially surprised by Edgar,” said Heinz.
“I never imagined that he’d return even stronger than he was before,” said Jennifer.
Edgar’s growth was astounding. The soul fragments of the heroic spirit Luke had been transplanted into him. His movements were nimble and his technique were sharp, as if his soul had been exchanged for Luke’s. It was like he was permanently under the effects of ‘Heroic Spirit Descent.’ This extreme improvement in Edgar’s strength was a large part of the reason Heinz and his companions only had five floors left to face.
“That’s true, but no overdoing it,” warned the female Dwarf Delizah, the shield-bearer of the ‘Five-colored Blades.’ “It seems that Edgar still feels unwell. I don’t know what exactly is involved in healing a soul, but that’s exactly why we need to be cautious.”
Edgar’s strength had indeed drastically improved, but as Delizah said, he was suffering physically, and the reason was a mystery. After long battles, he suffered from terrible heart palpitations, shortness of breath, headaches, and nausea, which caused him to become unable to move.
Even Diana’s magic had no effect on these symptoms. The ‘Tranquility’ spell that calmed the mind seemed to ease them very slightly, so it was presumably a problem related to Edgar’s mind.
“Isn’t that… because of the trauma? He was in quite a terrible state, right?” said Jennifer.
Edgar’s soul had been toyed with by Vandalieu until it was on the verge of breaking, and then he had been beheaded by Curatos who had taken the form of their former party member Martina in order to prevent any further damage to his soul.
Perhaps these events had been traumatic for Edgar.
But Diana shook her head. “It is possible. However, if that were the case, my spells would have more of an effect. My goddess Mill is the Goddess of Slumber. A goddess who grants peace to people and heals their minds and bodies.”
In this world, it was believed that the mind was very closely related to life. Thus, there were spells of the life attribute that had effects on the mind.
Edgar had asked Diana to cast these spells, and she had done so numerous times, but their effects had been slight.
“Of course, it is possible that it is my skill that is lacking,” Diana said, lowering her gaze.
“No, your magic is unquestionable, Diana. It’s probably not a problem with the mind, but a problem with the soul,” said Heinz with a nod.
Edgar’s compatibility with Luke, the heroic spirit of the God of Judgment Niltark, had been good enough for him to use ‘Heroic Spirit Descent.’ But this had likely not been enough to prevent side-effects from transplanting fragments of Luke’s soul into him.
Ordinarily, this would be the obvious explanation. It was Heinz’s job as leader to hope for Edgar to overcome these side effects and support him as a comrade.
But while we were going through the trials, Edgar was giving off a bloodlust that was far too powerful, and… a presence that is similar to Vandalieu’s, but different. What in the world was that?
Heinz had perceived something strange about Edgar.
Although the trials used copies that were like hallucinations with physical form, the battles were the real thing. It wasn’t strange to give off an air of bloodlust during these trials, and Jennifer, Delizah, and Heinz himself all did so as well.
But the bloodlust Edgar had for the copies was not merely sharp and cold. Heinz felt as if it had a malignant hatred to it.
And there was that presence that could be felt ever so slightly when battles dragged on.
“I don’t know if there’ll be an answer for us, but let’s try asking Alda. Diana, try praying to Mill as well,” Heinz said.
The gods were busy. On the surface, the battles with Vandalieu were apparently intensifying. It was unlikely that the gods could devote all of their time to Heinz and his companions.
Heinz knew this, but with souls being involved, there was no choice but to ask the gods.
Meanwhile, Edgar was alone, lying down in his room at the inn… or rather, the recreation of an inn that had existed in a human town a hundred thousand years ago.
“Damn it, why does it feel like I have a hangover when I haven’t been drinking?” he groaned quietly to himself.
His headache and nausea showed no signs of abating, and yet his body felt perfectly fine from the neck down. And when he entered battle, the headache and nausea vanished completely, allowing him to fight feeling refreshed.
The ‘Status Effect Resistance’ Skill and Potions all had no effect on these symptoms. Even Diana’s spells only provided a small relief. Battle was the only thing that freed Edgar from them.
But Edgar instinctively understood that he mustn’t over-indulge in battle.
The longer a battle continued, the more hatred he felt for his enemies. He understood that they were nothing more than copies, and the enemies were beings from myth that he was not acquainted with.
And yet, Edgar had found himself feeling irritated by the copies of Ganpaplio, Marduke, and Zerno. He had almost lost himself completely when he first saw the copy of Guduranis.
It was a sensation that Edgar had almost never felt in his entire life, a feeling that he had been insulted in some great way, and his entire consciousness had been completely filled with hatred.
Immediately after his symptoms appeared, Edgar had thought that they were the effects of the soul fragments that had been transplanted into him, the memories and emotions of Luke. But when he thought about it, Luke was a person who had lived tens of thousands of years after the defeat of the Demon King Guduranis.
As he had become a servant of the gods, it was understandable that he detested Guduranis, but… even so, the hatred was simply too vivid.
What in the world has happened to me? But it’s gradually improving over time. Is it because my soul was almost broken but I’m already fighting in battles just as I did before… no, in even fiercer battles than before? he wondered.
He remembered being taught as a child that Jobs and Skills were engraved on one’s soul. He had never been conscious of that fact, but his soul had almost been broken, and perhaps that was the reason he was suffering from these side effects.
But Edgar felt that the side effects were not as severe now as they had been at first.
“Niltark and the others haven’t said anything about them either, so I suppose that’s how it is. I don’t have the time to undergo a quiet rehabilitation, so I just have to put up with this until it gets better.”
This was all because he had been weak and he had been defeated by Vandalieu, so he just needed to endure the symptoms until they subsided. That was what Edgar told himself.
Vandalieu had dealt great damage to the forces defending Peria and Botin, and the potential heroes Ediria and Carlos had been guided by him, so it was true that Alda could not afford to give Edgar a long period of time to rest.
However, the reality was that the side effects were not subsiding, but progressing. And Niltark and the other gods did not have an accurate understanding of the current state of Edgar’s soul; like Edgar, they were aware of his side effects but believed that they were fading.
That was how much of a departure from common sense it had been for Rodcorte to transplant the fine fragments and powder of the soul of the Demon King Guduranis to Edgar.
And the powdered soul of the Demon King Guduranis was far more cunning than Rodcorte believed.
Meanwhile, the former potential hero Carlos was drinking water at the counter of the bar.
Having been convinced by Simon and Natania, he was finally listening to the words of his companions. He had quit drinking and started retraining his body, which had recently become dull.
Today, he had entered ‘Garess’s Ancient Battleground,’ the B-class Dungeon that had appeared in the city of Morksi a few months ago, and returned after defeating the first mid-boss.
With his divine protections lost, he could feel that it was more difficult to increase his Levels, but even so, he was making progress, slowly but surely. And he was satisfied with that.
“Bartender, give me a new glass of water! And some toasted beans!” said Carlos, placing a new order.
The bartender didn’t even look at Carlos. Perhaps nobody could blame him, since Carlos was sitting at a bar ordering water. Still, he was ordering snacks as well, so he thought that the bartender could be a little kinder, but he decided against complaining.
The bartender would probably be friendlier if he ordered a pricier snack. Just as this idea occurred to Carlos and he decided that he’d order a cheese platter next –
“You seem to be in good shape.”
Before Carlos knew it, Vandalieu was sitting on the seat next to him. But for some reason, Carlos wasn’t startled or surprised by this.
“Yeah, I can hardly believe it. My body feels light, I feel good, and I’ve got a good appetite,” said Carlos.
“Isn’t that just because you’ve stopped drinking?” suggested Vandalieu.
Carlos laughed. “Too right! But it’s thanks to you and your apprentices. I’m really grateful.”
What would have happened if Simon and Natania hadn’t convinced Carlos to pull himself together? He shuddered to think about it. There was no telling how long he would have drowned himself in alcohol, how far he would have fallen.
Why did this have to happen to him of all people? Such thoughts did linger in his mind, but nobody else was responsible for the fact that he had started trying to drink away his sorrows after losing his divine protections.
After the loyalty of his companions was spent, and he quit being an adventurer, perhaps he would have even stooped as low as being a bodyguard for bandits.
Considering that, Carlos owed a lot to Simon and Natania, as well as Vandalieu, the one who had brought them to him.
“I’d like to buy you a drink, in fact, but… if I recall, you don’t drink, do you?” said Carlos.
“No, Mom won’t allow me to until I become an adult,” said Vandalieu.
“I see, what a shame! If it were still daytime, I’d be able to buy you a treat instead, but nothing’s open at this time of day.”
He looked outside and saw that it was pitch-black. He had entered the bar and begun eating a light dinner after he got back from the Dungeon, and it seemed that some time had passed since then.
That was odd, since it was currently summer and the sun was supposed to set later.
“Then let me buy you a drink instead,” said Vandalieu.
“Come on,” Carlos said with a laugh, thinking that Vandalieu was joking. “What are you… saying…”
He looked down at his hands to see that a wine glass filled with a crimson liquid had appeared near them.
The bartender was still looking the other way and hadn’t taken even a single step towards Carlos.
“S-sorry. I’m trying to stay away from alcohol. A self-imposed ban, you know,” said Carlos, feeling that something was amiss and trying to push the glass away from himself.
But the moment he gripped the glass, the crimson liquid inside began bubbling as if it were boiling.
“W-what in the world?!”
“It’s alright. It isn’t wine.”
“No, that’s not what I’m talking about…”
Carlos yelped in surprise as the crimson liquid began overflowing from the glass. Carlos then realized that the liquid was not bubbling; additional liquid was filling the glass from the bottom.
“H-hey, what’s going on?!” he shouted.
Right before Carlos’s very eyes, the bartender melted away. His skin and clothes fell apart like the skin of a rotten fruit, and a crimson liquid spilled forth from within.
He turned back around to see that Vandalieu was gone and the entire bar was filled with the crimson liquid.
He screamed and tried to escape from the bar, but the crimson liquid engulfed him. He desperately tried to swim back up to the surface, but his body was sinking.
Filled with fear, he looked down to see an enormous, black hole. Instinctively, he realized that this was the exit.
That’s right. I wasn’t in the bar, and I’m not sinking… I was in the bottom of that hole from the very beginning.
Watched by the crimson liquid… by Vandalieu, Carlos fell towards the liquid’s surface.
Carlos screamed as he opened his eyes, tumbling off his bed in an inn that was considered one of Morksi’s higher-class ones. Relieved that he had woken up from his dream, he stood up.
“What the hell was that dream?” he muttered to himself.
Was it a nightmare? He’d woken up screaming, so he did think it was a nightmare. But he didn’t think that it had been a bad dream.
He could remember every detail of the dream, but strangely, he didn’t feel any fear. In fact, he felt refreshed, as if he had just finished a good training session and let off some steam. And when he was engulfed in the liquid, the liquid that had entered his mouth had been very –
Suddenly, a scream came from the room next to Carlos’s. At first, Carlos thought that it was angry shouting at his own scream when he woke up. But judging from the fact that it was just a scream rather than shouted words, he realized that the owner of the voice had likely woken from a dream like he had.
“If I recall, the guy in my room to the right was… Rock, from the ‘Iron Boulder Brigade?’ The guy who said that he’d be advancing to B-class soon.”
Were dreams contagious? With this stupid thought crossing his mind, Carlos left his room to go and wash his face, forgetting about the faint, sweet taste lingering in his mouth.
He didn’t realize that ‘■■■■■■’s Divine Protection’ had appeared on his Status until after he had eaten breakfast.
《The Level of the ‘Cooking’ Skill has increased!》
“This morning, for some reason, I had a dream where I made Carlos, Rock and some others drink ‘a lot,’” said Vandalieu.
A week had passed since the battle against the forces defending Peria. Vandalieu was in the pseudo-Divine Realm of Zantark, the War-God of Fire and Destruction, in the center of the Demon Continent… an outdoors space with pools of magma here and there, and he was making lunch for everyone next to an enormous white sphere.
While waiting for Vandalieu to finish cooking, everyone was commenting on the individuals Vandalieu had mentioned.
“I see. This Carlos and Rock, they are promising young individuals, I presume?” said Tiamat.
“So, you are close enough friends that they offer to buy you a drink. But they are names that I have not heard here or in Talosheim,” said Deeana the Moon Giant, younger sister of Talos.
“I’ve never heard of them before; I suppose they’re human names?” said Fidirg.
“Carlos, Rock… I’ve heard those names before. They’re in Alcrem – no, was it the city of Morksi?” said the heroic god Farmaun Gold, who served as a substitute for the great god of the fire attribute and was worshiped as the founder of the Adventurers’ Guild.
Incidentally, Vandalieu was making a cream pasta using the Sea Urchin Beast-King Dolstero, with mushrooms grown in Gartland.
Disassembling Dolstero’s body had yielded both male and female gametes. Some varieties of sea urchins had separate sexes while others were hermaphroditic; it seemed that Dolstero was one of the latter.
Gufadgarn, who had been convinced that Dolstero was female, had been surprised by this discovery, but as she had said, both the male and female gametes were packed full of nutrition regardless of the time of year and had an extremely delicious, savory flavor.
They had been so delicious that Luciliano had insisted that Dolstero be preserved and turned into a Live-Dead… though it was possible that he had suggested this in order to fill his schedule and avoid being made to participate in the next diversionary battle.
Meanwhile, Tarea, who had become a Ghoul Artisan Princess after her Rank increased, had sorrowfully and feverishly begged, “Please take me to the next one as well!” But Vandalieu had the feeling that she would do something reckless if he brought her to the next battle, so he intended to keep an eye on her for a while.
And according to Vandalieu, Dolstero’s soul had been very delicious, having a deep flavor with a smooth, cream-like texture.
The sauce of the pasta he was making now was a recreation of the flavor of Dolstero’s soul, and he was aiming to make it reach new heights by combining it with the mushrooms that were commonly used in Gartland’s cuisine, as well as bacon made from Elder Dragon and Colossus meat. He called the dish ‘soul sea urchin cream pasta.’
While preparing the sauce and boiling the pasta, Vandalieu replied to the questions of Tiamat and the others.
“They’re adventurers who are currently staying in the city of Morksi, in the Alcrem Duchy. As for their potential… Carlos does have potential. I’m not very sure about Rock,” Vandalieu said.
“You do not know? You said that you made them drink a lot; did you not mean that you gave them your divine protection?” asked Tiamat, sounding confused.
“I don’t know,” Vandalieu replied, without so much as blinking. “It’s not like I grant my divine protection based on their potential… their talent, or lack thereof. And to begin with, giving my divine protection isn’t something I actively, consciously do.”
While he would struggle with comparing a warrior and a mage of similar strength, Vandalieu’s ability to tell how strong someone was wasn’t completely hopeless.
However, he had no idea as to whether they had talent or not. Thus, he did not take into account someone’s talent or lack of talent when helping them and granting them his divine protection.
He had accepted Simon and Natania as disciples, and he had adopted Fang, Mähne, and Hof, but that wasn’t because he had seen talent in them.
But he had simply assumed that if Carlos had been granted the divine protection of Rubicante, the God of Heat Hazes, then it was likely that he had talent and promising qualities.
“Hmm? Then for what reason do you grant divine protections? You have the ability to give out as many divine protections as you want, but it is not as if you are handing them out indiscriminately, is it?” asked Deeana. “You said that granting them is not a conscious act, but if you were to feel that it is a problem, I am sure you would use some method to try and prevent them from being given.”
Indeed, Vandalieu was not simply handing out divine protections indiscriminately. He would not grant it to someone he was simply acquainted with if he considered them to be his enemy.
So surely, there was some criteria for receiving his divine protection, but…
“I probably look at their character… I think it’s a matter of whether I want to support them or not,” said Vandalieu.
His perception was different in dreams compared to when he was awake, so he couldn’t say for sure.
“Hmm… Well, perhaps things are fine the way they are. The fact that you are a Guider means that all who are guided by you essentially have something like a divine protection anyway,” said Deeana.
“Ah, I remember now. Those guys, huh. Rock and his friends are good guys. His qualities are just a little above average, but he’s good-natured. I’m sure he’ll be able to nurture his juniors well. As for Carlos… Given my position, I can’t say too much about him,” said Farmaun.
It seemed that he had remembered Rock of the ‘Iron Boulder Brigade’ and the former potential hero Carlos.
Even though every Adventurers’ Guild branch had a small statue of him, he didn’t know of every single adventurer.
“You can’t say anything?” asked Fidirg.
“No, I can’t. In human society, I’m known as a god who belongs to Alda’s forces. People believe that Rubicante is a subordinate god of mine. Well, I came to Vida’s faction as a substitute for a great god, so that is technically true,” Farmaun said.
In other words, Farmaun felt ashamed when it came to Carlos as his predicament was a result of the fact that he was unable to control his subordinate.
Though it went without saying, it would be a poor choice to grant Carlos his divine protection to replace Rubicante’s. Since he was known as a god of Alda’s forces in human society, Carlos would remain a follower of Alda’s teachings.
Even if he wanted to tell Carlos his intent through a Divine Message, there was no guarantee that Carlos would interpret it accurately. After all, Rubicante had apparently failed to instruct Carlos to stay away from Vandalieu.
“Come to think of it, are you unable to tell the potential heroes apart from other adventurers, Farmaun?” asked Vandalieu.
“… That would be difficult, though I might be able to tell if they pray to me saying that they received a divine protection from another god, or if I looked at them directly,” said Farmaun.
By ‘look at them directly,’ Farmaun didn’t mean meeting them personally in his Divine Realm, but looking down at the world from his Divine Realm. This could be done without being noticed by people who were supposedly potential heroes.
However, returning to the Bahn Gaia continent would mean his existence being noticed by Alda’s forces.
In the worst-case scenario, a battle between Farmaun and the gods of Alda’s forces would break out in his Divine Realm; the potential heroes would be the least of his worries.
“I see. It’s not possible, then,” said Vandalieu as he heaped boiled pasta onto plates and covered it in sauce. “Food’s ready.”
“Oh, this looks delicious!” said Tiamat, who had shrunk herself to the size of a human.
“Yes, let us be thankful for this food… and eat!” said Deeana, who had done the same.
“… It’s probably a little too late to mention this, but isn’t this cannibalism for you guys?” Farmaun pointed out.
“And? So what?” said Fidirg, who was using the Staff of Five Sins as his vessel.
None of the others paid Farmaun any attention.
“Itadakimasu!” the four gods said simultaneously.
And with that, the gods became engrossed in eating the food before them.
“… So, you guys can shrink yourselves,” said Vandalieu after waiting for the pace of their eating to slow down a little.
“Yes. To be more precise, it is not that we have shrunk ourselves; we have separated a part of our consciousness away from our main bodies and materialized it,” said Tiamat.
“It is of no use in a battle, and a Colossus like me would be indistinguishable from a human when I do it, so I do not do it often,” said Deeana.
Various accommodations were possible for gods in Divine Realms, including demigods, and Vandalieu was proud that they had taken such measures for the purpose of eating his Dolstero pasta.
While starting to boil the next batch of pasta, Vandalieu looked up at the enormous white sphere… the egg that had been produced between him and Tiamat.
“By the way, I’ve started to think of a name for my first child… It is just one child that’s growing inside this egg, right?” Vandalieu asked.
There were legends that told of Tiamat laying an egg with a diameter of about ten meters, birthing a hundred children at once, but –
“That is right,” Tiamat replied. “Someone like me is able to choose, depending on the time and situation. In the past, we needed numbers, so I birthed many at a time, but things are different now. I cannot afford to birth a hundred children now and become swamped with the task of raising them, after all.”
Tiamat had created the Drakonid race with Vida, and she had created the Maryujin race with the Majin and the Kiryujin race with the Kijin. But before that, she had given birth to many children with demigods such as Elder Dragons and Colossi. When doing so, she had often given birth to twins and triplets, but never hatches of more than nine.
“I see. Maybe the nature of the birth depends on whether you give birth to the child as a god or a mortal… In any case, I’m relieved, since I’ve only thought of one name,” said Vandalieu. “Ah, it moved.”
“It seems that the child between you and Tiamat is growing healthily,” said Deeana. “It will be some time until it hatches, but I am sure it will be a powerful Elder Dragon.”
The egg’s contents, surrounded by a soft shell and warmed by the geothermal heat of this place, wriggled in anticipation as the child waited to be born into the world.
Monster explanation (written by Luciliano): Ghoul Artisan Princess
Tarea has gone from Ghoul Elder Artisan, Ghoul High Elder Artisan, Ghoul Unlimited Artisan, and for some reason, finally to Ghoul Artisan Princess with her latest Rank increase. I myself would like to question whether it is suitable for ‘Princess’ to come after ‘Unlimited.’
Perhaps the reason for this is that she acquired a Job called ‘Singing Ogre Princess,’ a Job that can be acquired by Ghouls and Kijin women who possess the ‘Singing’ Skill.
Personally, I would like to support her in her fervorous pursuit of increasing her Rank even further… though I hope from the bottom of my heart that her wish remains unfulfilled. After all, if it does, then Master’s attention will turn towards me instead, and I will be dragged onto the battlefield instead.
Tarea has acquired Zelzeria’s divine protection; this is likely because she was once a prostitute. That goddess is apparently often worshipped by prostitutes.