Chapter 335: 176. The Beginning of the Destruction -2 (Part One)

Translated by A Passing Wanderer

Edited by RED

Somewhere on top of a frozen mountain range…

Belrog and his fellow dwarves stood there, their eyes opened wide. They were clad in thick wool coats to ward off the bitter snowstorm.

They were currently being treated to an unforgettable spectacle.

A spectacle of great Mother Nature crumbling and being destroyed.

The ground rumbled in an ominous earthquake, causing the frozen mountains to crack apart and crumble to pieces. The layers of compacted snow shattered, and soon, avalanches roared down the slopes.

Huge, dark shadows emerged from the deepest valley of the mountain range.

They belonged to the Jötnar. The bringer of the world’s destruction had begun their march!

“B-Belrog! Belrog, it’s them! It’s the giants!” One of the dwarves pointed to the bottom of the valley with his trembling finger.

“To think that they were hiding within this mountain range!”

The Jötnar weren’t even planning to tread across the mountain range, by the look of things. It was like they chose to destroy everything that dared to block their path, instead. Indeed, they destroyed parts of the mountain range hundreds or thousands of times bigger than they were, just to carve out a forward path for themselves.

‘What is up with this absurd…?!’ Belrog was cowed instantly.

The mountains were coming down. Every time those giants swung their fists out, the terrain around them was altered. The Jötnar continued to spit out heavy, rough breaths as their eyes glowed ominously.

They weren’t only going in one direction, either; they scattered in every direction, seemingly determined to utterly destroy the mountain range.

Once they broke through the natural barriers of mountains and reached the plains, their traveling speed would increase dramatically.

One of the dwarves, who must’ve been feeling deeply anxious, cried out loudly, “Belrog!”

“…I know. The closest settlement from here is the Duchy of Ariana. Go and deliver this news to them right away. There should be the duchy’s scouting party nearby, so go and ask for their help!”

“I-I got it!”

That dwarf hurriedly dashed away from there to climb down the mountain. However, nobody knew how long he would need to get to the Duchy with his short, stumpy figure.

It was a mistake on the dwarves’ part to release their horses when their mounts couldn’t endure the icy conditions of the mountain range.

All they could do for now was to pray that the dwarf would get to an outpost as soon as possible.

“The end of the world was all real.”

“Boss, what should we do now? His Majesty the Holy Emperor ordered us, right? But we already wasted another year, on top of what you promised.”

Since there hadn’t been any communication from the Imperial Family, Belrog decided that he’d spend another year waiting here so that they could craft an even better, more perfect weapon than before.

However, it was too late now.

Belrog took his time answering his colleagues, “Let’s not forget, His Majesty the Holy Emperor, Allen Olfolse, has been missing for the past year or so.”

About a year ago, Holy Emperor Allen Olfolse suddenly went missing, his whereabouts unknown. Marquis Hans Jerurami was the one who conveyed the news.

Charlotte Heraiz, the emperor’s personal escort knight, seemed to have accepted that revelation without too much fuss. The First Imperial Prince was acting as the emperor’s proxy after he was temporarily given ruling authority.

Despite the Holy Emperor’s whereabouts being a mystery, the Theocratic Empire didn’t fall into the clutches of chaos. It was all thanks to the Holy Emperor making sufficient preparations beforehand.

Belrog clenched his teeth. “It’s too late now. We can’t afford to rely on the Master Blacksmith anymore.”

They were left with no choice now. They simply had to refine the weapon with their own strength and abilities.

‘But how?’

The Holy Emperor had entrusted three different types of armament to Belrog. One was a magician’s staff, the second was a grimoire, and finally, a warhammer.

How were they supposed to refine those things into a single spear?

“Ten days. We shall craft the armament His Majesty had commanded us in that time period.”

The Jötnar should need some time to break through the frozen mountain range. The dwarves could use this short opening to refine the weapon, bringing out much of its potential in the process.

Belrog and company hurriedly returned to the hut where the armaments were resting. But when they threw open the door, they discovered the Master Blacksmith was already inside.

The trio of weapons were in front of him.

‘Dammit!’

Belrog inwardly cursed out. For some reason, he began resenting the towering Master Blacksmith.

‘No, wait. Why am I resenting him in the first place? It’s my fault for relying on him without his permission.’

Belrog blamed himself. He believed that if he had worked together with the Master Blacksmith, then they would get to create a truly complete armament, the likes of which this world had never seen before. But his expectation ended up ballooning far too high.

“I’m sorry about this, Master. But we won’t rely on you anymore.” Belrog reached out towards the trio of armaments. “I shall do something about them, so…”

It was right at that moment that the Master Blacksmith suddenly grabbed Belrog’s wrist. The harsh pain, akin to his wrist getting crushed to bits, struck the dwarf without warning.

Belrog gasped out in pain and turned his head to look, only for his whole body to flinch and shudder as this nasty chill crept down his skin.

“Do not touch the armament that I have created, Belrog.”

A glare filled with dense killing intent and madness locked on Belrog. The other dwarves were also frozen stiff in place.

“M-Master… Blacksmith…?”

Just as Belrog began trembling in fear, Master Blacksmith Avaldi released the dwarf’s wrist. “Get out of my sight. You’ll only be a hindrance.”

“W-what?”

“The level of your abilities will only get in my way. You will only damage the armament.”

“…What are you thinking of doing, Master?”

The Master Blacksmith grabbed all the armaments, then headed to the entrance of the basement workshop located in the corner of the hut. “I shall do what you wanted from the beginning.”

Did that mean…?

Just as Belrog’s face brightened with elation, the Master Blacksmith continued on, “However, don’t you dare interrupt me. Don’t even linger around in the surroundings, you hear me? You will only bother me.”

Belrog was unable to refute what the other party was saying, because it was all true.

The skill level of Belrog or his colleagues couldn’t even reach the toe-end of the Master Blacksmith, after all. Even then, they couldn’t afford to back off here.

While the dwarves were specialised in refining metal through their advanced metallurgy in the shortest time frame as possible, human smiths were known to take their time in refining weapons.

It was already too late now to entrust the creation of the weapon to the Master Blacksmith.

But even before Belrog could say something, Avaldi stopped his steps taking him down to the basement. “Do not fret.”

Veins on Grand Duke Avaldi’s forehead were pulsating.

“I only need two days.” He turned his head back and glared at Belrog. “Do you honestly think I haven’t mastered the dwarves’ refining and alchemical techniques?”

“…”

“I didn’t even need three days to craft Amon’s armaments back then.”

Belrog began smiling awkwardly at that revelation, a strand of cold sweat trickling down his face.

Holy cow, that legend was actually a historical fact?

A blacksmith who crafted the Necromancer King’s weapons?! And besides all that, he only needed three days?

That was the maximum time limit the dwarves accepted when they wanted to avoid unnecessarily damaging the armament being created.

‘Huh. He has utterly crushed the pride of us dwarves, hasn’t he?’

Belrog instinctively clenched his fists tightly. Although it was vexing, he had no choice but to believe in the Master Blacksmith. “…I’ll leave it up to you, then.”

Belrog and fellow dwarves left the hut as if they were being chased away.

Avaldi entered the basement forge, then studied the trio of armaments closely: the staff, the grimoire, and the warhammer.

He then began recalling ‘it’.

…It being Vlandmir’s betrayal.

Even though the Vampire King wielded Avaldi’s spear, he was still defeated by the giants. It meant that that spear was not enough to kill the giants.

Giants that even the gods had allegedly feared.

In that case…

‘I shall create a weapon that even surpasses the giants, then!’

Avaldi’s figure suddenly ballooned in size. Rippling crimson muscles filled his flesh, while horns rose on his head.

‘A perfect weapon that I’ve offered up all my being to create…’

He used his right hand to grab his horn, and broke it. His left hand sliced open his own chest to extract his heart.

The flames permeated in the broken-off horn, while the heart burned up in demonic energy accumulated for the past thousand years and more.

‘I shall complete a true masterpiece even if it costs my soul!’

Avaldi began his hammering on the three armaments.

**

Hans was feeling quite anxious.

It had already been five years.

He knew that the invasion of the giants would commence in five years, but he didn’t know exactly from when, where, and how those bastards would start their invasion. The only thing he knew for sure was that they would start attacking some place in the Kingdom of Frants first.

‘Is His Majesty still down in the underground labyrinth…?’

Charlotte had already departed for the Kingdom of Frants, with the army in tow. Holy Emperor Allen had given her the order to do so after the one year mark of his absence arrived.

Hans took his time deliberating, but in the end, he headed to the underground labyrinth.

‘I might end up interrupting him.’

However, he was left with no other choice.

‘Even if he’s down here training to get stronger, his method is already abnormal to begin with.’

The members of the Imperial Family grew stronger by fighting against the vampires. Their physical bodies would get ‘destroyed’ by attacks containing demonic energy, and by healing such wounds through divinity, their bones and muscles would become even more developed than before.

This was the reason why the Imperial Family members could become sufficiently strong in only a few short decades to fight against vampires who had been living for several centuries.

‘Out of them all, His Majesty Kelt and Marquis Charlotte are two unique cases.’

Their whole bodies were ripped apart by the curses of demonic energy, yet they had still managed to survive. That led them to possess transcendental physiques which allowed them to hunt vampires without relying on divinity, but on just pure physical strength alone.

Allen also wanted to possess such a physique. That’s why he had willingly stepped up on to the experimental table.

‘Even if the vampires are all gone and he couldn’t fight them anymore, this was still too rash.’

After the war against the vampires came to an end, the opponents he could potentially fight against had practically vanished overnight. He couldn’t grow stronger anymore, so he had chosen to artificially strengthen himself this way.

—

Hans eventually reached the underground labyrinth. He touched the massive wall blocking his path, and several runes engraved on its surface began to shine. The wall lifted up, revealing the enclosed space beyond.

“…?”

Only the Bloody Golem stood tall there. Hans could see that Allen wasn’t inside the golem’s body, either.

“Where… did His Majesty even go to…?” Hans muttered out to no one in particular, but the Bloody Golem still answered, pointing at the entrance Hans was standing in.

He turned his head to look, and his gaze went past the exit leading outside of the labyrinth itself. The warp magic circle he had installed there could be seen.

That was the ‘bridge’ that led directly to the Kingdom of Frants.

Allen had already left the labyrinth sometime ago!