The Malignant One [Pt 4]

[A Few Moments Earlier]

"Huff… huff…"

Claudius was already beginning to feel the exhaustion in his body as he sprinted at full speed, without stop.

His aged, wrinkled body began to ache, begging to slow down for even a moment. However, he knew he could not do that.

Stopping for even the slightest of a second meant certain death.

Sweat sprayed from his face as he navigated the path he and his men took to reach the KariBlanc Mansion.

His goal was simple—escape the Capital!

He had expended all of his Mana, and right now he was merely running on the little reserves that his Enchanted Items gave him.

He had lost all of his Undead, and even if he had his full stock, they would be useless against the enemy.

Even running was useless.

But… Claudius had to hold on to hope one way or the other.

As a result, he found his legs moving.

'Faster!'

They swept past the silent city.

'Faster!'

They moved away from the peaceful ambiance.

'Much faster!'

They trampled upon the unsoiled ground.

'Fas… ter?'

Claudius tripped on something and found his body headed for the ground. Unfortunately for his tired self, he could do nothing but witness his collapse.

"Guh!" He winced as he hit the ground, his eyes tightly shut.

However, he couldn't allow himself to dawdle for much longer.

He had to get up!

He had to run!

'I-I have to, or else… h-huh…?'

Perhaps it was due to his overwhelming fear, but Claudius hadn't been paying any heed to his surroundings until now.

It was dark, and he was running too fast, so he didn't take the time to observe.

But now… as he knelt on the ground and looked around him, he found something odd.

'Where are the dead bodies?'

On their way to the KariBlanc Mansion, the Mercenary Gang Members had killed their fair share of people, while destroying properties and burning down homes.

But…

Claudius could see no dead bodies.

There were no burning houses or devastated properties.

Everything was in perfect order, almost as if nothing had ever happened that night.

'A-am I still in a dream?' Claudius wondered to himself, his body trembling.

He could no longer distinguish between dream and reality any longer.

What if, after running for so long and finally reaching his point of escape, it all turned out to be a farce?

What if he was actually still before the Mansion?

Would he really be able to tell?

'No one is pursuing me. Everywhere is eerily still…'

Yes—this had to be a DREAM!

Or… perhaps the opposite was true.

Claudius remembered how Phobio bragged about killing so many people in the Black Market, and yet there was no sphere of blood with him.

This wasn't merely the case of him being delusional either. Fernand also confirmed the same fact, which meant they all thought they killed people.

'But if there was bloodshed, there would be a sphere of blood…'

After putting his own experience into account, Claudius had to suspect that he and his men had completely dreamt through the entire massacre of the Capital.

There was never carnage or destruction.

—Just foolish men swinging their blades, thinking they were killing people.

"It looks like you figured it out." A certain silhouette appeared before Claudius.

It was very dark, so he couldn't see it very well.

However, he knew that voice very well. It came from the man who had single-handedly made all of them into fools.

"Which is it? Am I still in a dream right now, or… did we hallucinate everything?"

"The latter." Claudius couldn't see the man's face well, but he was sure he was smiling.

Only the gleaming purple gaze of the one known as Ater was visible, and it stared down at Claudius in amusement.

"C-can I ask you a question?" Claudius asked, his knees still remaining on the ground, as his body refused to move.

No… that wasn't quite true.

It was he who refused to move his body.

There was no point, after all.

"Sure. Ask your question."

Claudius leaked out a bitter smile as he parted his lips and finally addressed the issue he had been ignoring for so long.

"Why… do you look so young and attractive?"

"Hm?"

"You're a Necromancer, aren't you? That means you deal with Miasma when handling corpses and turning them into Undead. I'm only thirty-three years old, and yet I look like this…"

Claudius knew he was rambling to an enemy, but this was the first time he was telling anyone his real age and his personal struggle.

He thought that if anyone could understand, it would be a fellow Necromancer.

"My skin is wrinkled and loose, my body is aged, and my bones are weak. I always thought that it was a sacrifice I had to pay to attain the power I needed, but after seeing you… my resolve has wavered."

Claudius looked up at the being who listened in silence, tears now falling from his eyes.

"Why? What did you have to sacrifice to give you such power? How can you have everything I wanted, with no flaws or caveat? What did you do that I didn't? What makes you so special?"

Claudius always believed he was special since he was a child. After all, it was incredibly rare for someone to be born with an Exclusive Skill—especially one as rare as his was.

But, compared to the man standing before him… he was nothing.

Why?

"Your mistake lies in your initial premise." Once Ater spoke, Claudius' thoughts were suspended.

He only blankly looked at the man of darkness.

"Power requires sacrifice? Where did you get that absurd idea from? Those that claw their way into power will surely have a measure of it, based on what they scrape from the world. But… true power is etched in a being's nature."

16:36

'N-nature…?' This was the first time Claudius was hearing such a thing.

"Yes. Nature dictates that you are weak and I am strong." Ater's voice sank deep into the darkness.

"That is all there is to it."