The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 29

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 29.
Celestial Demon Divine Art.
Literally, the martial technique of the Celestial Demon.
The path of supremacy walked by the absolute being known as the demon of the heavens.
A extreme training method that pushes the physical body to its limits and detonates the inner force dwelling deep within the dantian.
An ordinary human would need to spend decades staring at a wall in cultivation just to barely grasp the threshold of entry.
Even then, without talent, one typically succumbs to demonic possession and becomes a cripple.
But I am different.
I am Rag.
Upon character creation, I poured one hundred million SP into maxing out every single talent to its absolute limit.
That overwhelming talent flows seamlessly into the body of my avatar, Kim Jung-seok.
The limits of the flesh?
The absence of talent?
Such concerns do not apply to me.
The problem was my approach.
I am a mage through and through.
Wielding a staff, maintaining distance, unleashing firepower—that is my way of combat.
The blade is taboo for a mage.
Close-quarters combat was the last resort, the worst-case scenario to be avoided at all costs.
That was the fundamental principle I had believed in my entire life.
“Hah.”
I steadied my breathing.
The holy sword Abriel trembled faintly in my right hand.
‘I must shatter my preconceptions.’
I closed my eyes.
I dredged up a memory from the past.
A comrade who ran alongside me toward the Highest Layer of the Tower.
The Sword Emperor, Aritolte.
-Magic? Swordsmanship? That’s ridiculous.
-Such distinctions are for the weak, Jung-seok.
He always scoffed at such notions.
With a single blade, he severed space itself and twisted time.
His sword was no longer mere physical steel.
It was phenomenon, miracle, and magic all at once.
-When one reaches the apex, all boundaries crumble.
At the time, I thought it was nonsense.
It seemed absurd for a swordsman to speak of magic.
But looking back, his words were not without truth.
Compared to Aritolte, I was unmistakably the weaker one.
I had been trapped within the confines of magic, while he transcended those very boundaries and moved beyond.
‘Yes, you were right.’
I acknowledged it.
And I made my decision.
I would tear down that boundary myself.
To become an unprecedented monster—a mage and a martial artist simultaneously.
Flash.
My eyes snapped open.
The Heavenly Demon armor and boots resonated in harmony.
My vision flooded crimson.
Black afterimages flickered through the void.
The phantom of the Heavenly Demon.
He moved.
He stepped forward.
He swung his blade.
It was simple.
Yet within that simplicity lay the cosmos itself.
A flawless trajectory, stripped of all excess.
I mirrored his movements.
I lifted Abriel.
My stance was awkward.
Like a child who had stolen their father’s suit.
The blade was heavy, and my footwork tangled.
‘Damn it.’
A curse escaped my lips.
My mind understood, but my body refused to obey.
The habits of a mage shackled me.
I kept trying to create distance, reaching for mana before the blade.
But I did not stop.
I swung, and swung again, carving away at myself.
I suppressed the mage’s instinct and awakened the warrior’s senses.
The Heavenly Demon’s phantom never tired.
Neither could I.
One day passed.
My muscles screamed.
But I did not stop.
Four days passed.
The trajectory began to reveal itself, piece by piece.
The blade’s tip no longer wavered.
Rhythm emerged in my footwork.
The armor felt like an extension of my own body.
And on the seventh day.
I stood in the Training Ground of the Golden City.
“….”
Silence reigned.
Not even the whisper of wind reached my ears.
The phantom image of the Heavenly Demon still lingered before my eyes.
He raised his sword.
A downward slash.
The most fundamental, yet most devastating strike.
I drew my blade as well.
I held my breath.
I converted mana into martial force.
With a mage’s computational prowess, I calculated the sword’s trajectory, then executed it with a warrior’s body.
Two disparate forces merged into one.
‘Now.’
I struck downward.
Kwaaaang!
A deafening explosion erupted.
Black aura burst from the blade’s edge, tearing through the Training Ground’s floor.
The earth split with a sharp crack, creating a chasm spanning dozens of meters.
Dust rose like a tempest.
“…Hah.”
I exhaled ragged breaths.
My hands tingled.
Yet a smile spread across my lips.
I could see it now.
The landscape beyond that boundary Aritolte had spoken of.
It was enlightenment.
Magic and martial arts were not different.
They were merely different methods of wielding power.
I am a mage.
A mage who broke taboos, one who wielded a sword.
Ding!
[You have entered the threshold of Heavenly Demon Divine Art.]
[You have acquired the skill, ‘Heavenly Demon Sword Art (1-Star)’.]
[You have transcended the boundary between magic and martial arts.]
[The hidden attribute, ‘The Transcendent’, has awakened!]
‘A hidden attribute!’
An intrinsic quality.
An absolute talent, also called a unique characteristic.
It meant a hidden attribute—one designated as a “Hidden”—had blossomed within me.
A shiver ran through my spine.
Before regression, I had clawed my way to obtain only four Hidden attributes.
That was all I’d accumulated by the time I reached the Tower’s end.
But already?
Merely by stepping into the threshold of the Celestial Demon Divine Art?
With trembling eyes, I examined the detailed information.
[Hidden Attribute: The Transcendent]
[Effect 1: All weapon and skill proficiency acquisition increased by 100%.]
[Effect 2: Class-based penalties are deleted.]
[Effect 3: The maximum grade of all skills expands from 10-star to 12-star.]
“…Ha.”
I was left speechless.
My words caught in my throat.
I doubted my eyes and looked again.
But the text remained unchanged.
It was absurd.
It was the kind of thing I’d believe only if the System had malfunctioned.
‘Class restrictions deleted.’
That alone was a jackpot.
For skills requiring proficiency, growth speed is everything.
But there exists an insurmountable wall depending on one’s class.
If a mage wields a sword?
Proficiency rises at a snail’s pace.
If a swordsman attempts to learn magic?
Even sensing mana becomes an ordeal.
It was a kind of law.
But “The Transcendent” mocked that very law.
I am a mage, yet now I can master the sword faster than any swordsman.
With 100% proficiency increase attached, my growth speed will be unparalleled.
But the true madness lay in the final line.
’12-star.’
Breaking the limit.
Ordinary skills cap at 10-star.
10-star is the maximum level.
With each star rank gained, destructive power skyrockets exponentially.
Roughly a 1.5x efficiency increase.
If 1-star equals 1, then reaching 10-star means roughly 58 times stronger—that was the academic consensus.
To surpass that wall of 58x?
‘A Star of Transcendence’—an item of that name is required.
A star that drops only with abysmal probability in the latter half.
Only by using it can I barely pierce through to 13-star.
Obtaining it is like plucking a star from the heavens.
Naturally, it’s not something money can buy.
But this trait simply shatters that limitation.
And it’s not just one specific skill.
It applies universally to ‘all’ skills.
‘This is insane.’
Laughter escaped me unbidden.
While others crash against the ceiling of 10 and despair, I can look down from the realm of 12.
It’s overwhelming.
This isn’t merely widening the gap.
I can become an entirely different class of existence.
Intense exhilaration was coursing through my entire body.
Ding!
[Episode 3, First Calamity begins.]
[Calamitous entities emerge across the world.]
[Best of luck.]
…It finally started.
The first great calamity.
With Episode 3 as the unit, global ‘disasters’ emerge into the world.
Through these, monsters called ‘calamitous entities’ reveal themselves—success in hunting them grants wondrous rewards, but failure can lead to the collapse of entire nations.
This is because the disasters that descend upon the world remain permanently and continue to grow.
Naturally, the vast majority of Avatars would participate.
‘Because they drop Runes.’
Runes.
Items that grant additional abilities simply by possessing them.
They sometimes granted special abilities or talents that couldn’t be raised through ordinary means.
The Rune of El, which allows momentary resistance against death, and the Rune of Tal, which grants protection from holy spirits, are prime examples.
And the Rune I desired was the latter.
‘The Rune of Tal. I absolutely need it to protect one side when I log out.’
Rag is protected by Seria and the elves, but currently there’s no adequate means to safeguard Kim Jung-seok’s physical body.
However, with the Rune of Tal, things change.
The safety of both sides increases.
Beyond that, the varieties of Runes obtainable from hunting calamitous entities are limitless.
It’s a big event that Avatars can’t help but light their eyes for.
But those creatures are also what trigger the ‘great calamities.’
‘A great calamity is a phenomenon that occurs when numerous disasters merge into one.’
I know this.
A great calamity isn’t a term for a single disaster.
To trigger a Great Calamity, countless disasters must be linked together.
In other words, it meant that countless avatars were channeling their power.
Which inevitably meant my right hand would respond.
‘Logout.’
Ding!
[You have logged out.]
[Returning to reality.]
* * *
The sky above Seoul tore open.
Rumble, crash!
The atmosphere screamed.
Seoul, Gyeonggi, Gangwon, Chungcheong.
Localized disasters erupting simultaneously across the entire Korean peninsula.
An earthquake in Gangnam, a tsunami at Haeundae, a wildfire on Seorak Mountain.
Calamities of different natures converged toward a single point, drawn together like iron to a magnet.
The destination: the heart of Seoul.
Five thousand meters above ground.
The tremor of the earthquake shook the atmosphere.
The spray of the tidal wave became dark clouds.
The heat of the inferno transformed into black lightning.
Crack!
Black lightning struck the spire of Lotte Tower.
Glass rained down like a deluge.
People fled like swarms of ants.
“Kyaaaah!”
“The sky! The sky is collapsing!”
“Run! We’re all going to die!”
Pandemonium.
Roads became paralyzed, communications went dead.
The city that modern civilization had prided itself on transformed in an instant into a cauldron of primal terror.
Yet.
There were those laughing amidst that hellscape.
On rooftops of buildings.
Upon collapsed bridges.
Or mingled within crowds, gazing upward at the sky.
Their eyes gleamed not with fear, but with ‘greed’.
‘Finally.’
‘It has come.’
The avatars of the Deities.
They licked their lips.
Kuooooooo!
Space tore open at the center of the black lightning.
A colossal eye gazed down upon Seoul.
A ravenous eye.
A maw that seemed ready to devour everything in existence.
‘A calamitous entity.’
A demonic beast of black greed.
No ordinary demonic beast.
An artificial monster born only when dozens, hundreds of minor disasters coalesced into one.
Something that could never occur in nature—an event monster designed solely for this ‘game.’
“Krkrkr….”
Choi Tae-min, the avatar of the Superior Flame Deity, clenched his fists.
Flames rippled across his entire body.
“I’ve been waiting for this.”
There was only one reason.
‘Runes.’
Spoils that would drop upon slaying that monster.
No mere item.
Sacred characters that strengthened divine essence and pierced the limits of divine authority.
Even the Deities themselves coveted such treasures.
Normally, they were unobtainable.
In Asgard, it was difficult to artificially trigger disasters of such magnitude.
The Deities kept each other in check.
But this was Earth.
A game board with loose rules.
Avatars united to trigger disasters, combining them into a ‘grand calamity.’
Then they hunted the result and monopolized the runes.
A perfect hunting ground.
Perfect farming.
“It’s mine.”
Avatars hidden throughout Seoul stirred into motion.
They had no intention of wearing the mask of heroes.
The city was already ruined anyway.
All that mattered now was who would pierce that demonic beast’s heart first.
Seo Ji-su, the Frost Witch, raised her staff.
Lee Do-hyung, the Berserker, drew his greatsword.
Dozens of avatars were about to surge toward the demonic beast in unison when—
Ding!
A crimson message materialized before the eyes of avatars across the entire world.
[We bring you grave tidings.]
The avatars’ feet came to a halt.
A system notification?
At this moment?
[The master of Tower Floor 18, the Lesser Plague Deity, has been slain.]
“…?”
The Plague Deity?
A lesser deity of the Biological Faction.
He was dead?
But the shock did not end there.
The messages did not stop.
Ding!
Ding!
[The master of Tower Floor 15, the Lesser Drought Deity, has been slain.]
[The master of Tower Floor 12, the Lesser Collapse Deity, has been slain.]
Obituaries erupting in rapid succession.
Everyone could only gasp in shock.
“What is… this?”
“What in the world is happening?!”
…The Deities were being slaughtered simultaneously.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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