The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 37

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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 37.
World 402.
Before Earth, there existed evidence of 393 other worlds that had been destroyed under the guise of divine entertainment.
While those countless stars turned to ash, they must have sat upon their thrones, cackling with glee.
Ding!
A message window materialized before my eyes.
Comments from the Deities, processed anonymously, were streaming in real-time.
[Anonymous 11: Ah, that one. I remember him. The bastard who severed my avatar’s neck.]
[Anonymous 59: A tenacious one. His final thrashing was quite the spectacle.]
[Anonymous 39: Why is he only appearing now? I would have purchased him earlier.]
[Anonymous 44: Perfect for my collection. I have an empty space in my display case.]
It was revolting.
For someone, it had been a desperate struggle for survival, a harrowing tale of endurance.
But for them, it was merely a forgotten episode—or perhaps a well-crafted plaything.
‘A collectible.’
The most nauseating word imaginable.
A chilling thought suddenly struck me.
What if I had never regressed?
What if I had resisted and ultimately failed, perished?
Would my soul too be trapped within that Glass Chamber, displayed at the Auction House?
[Item: Earth’s Mad Sorcerer]
[Description: A lunatic who attempted to detonate Earth in its entirety.]
Perhaps that was how I would have been introduced.
“Ha.”
A hollow laugh escaped me.
It was not someone else’s fate.
The Sword Saint within that Glass Chamber was nothing more than another version of myself—a version that had failed.
“Now, let the bidding commence! Opening bid: 100,000 Nectar!”
The auctioneer’s cry rang out as lights flashed brilliantly.
“150,000!”
“200,000!”
“300,000!”
The price skyrocketed madly.
Once it surpassed 500,000 Nectar, the bidding pace slowed somewhat.
The soul within the Glass Chamber opened its mouth.
A silent scream.
It was desperately pleading to be released, begging to be killed.
Yet that anguished cry never reached the Deities.
They merely assigned value to the soul’s suffering, calling it ‘rarity.’
Corrupted nobility.
Trampled pride.
It was a pity.
A dull ache throbbed in the corner of my chest.
But.
‘I cannot live on sympathy alone.’
I forced myself to be rational.
500,000 Nectar.
No small sum.
It was far too vast an amount to burn away merely out of pity.
With that money, I could strengthen my Layer further or expand my forces.
Logically, letting it go was the right choice.
And yet.
Uuuuung.
“…?”
My left hand trembled.
The hand that spewed hellfire and unleashed calamity.
If my right hand was ‘consumption’, my left hand was the realm of ‘release’.
But now, an unfamiliar light was seeping from my left palm.
‘Blue?’
Neither red nor black.
A crystalline azure rune materialized upon my palm.
Simultaneously.
Zzzziiik.
Thin blue threads of light extended from my left hand.
Their destination was precisely the Sword Saint within the Glass Chamber.
‘This is….’
Resonance.
Something dormant within me yearned for that soul.
It was far removed from mere possession.
Like finding a lost half of myself—an intense, irresistible pull.
Different in nature from my right hand’s hunger.
Not consumption.
This was ‘connection’.
‘Accept it.’
My instinct whispered.
That I must claim that soul.
That only then could I advance to the next stage.
I knew not why.
But I trusted my senses.
It was keen intuition, sharper than reason, that had kept me alive until now.
“550,000! We have 550,000! Do we have any higher bids?”
The auctioneer prepared for the countdown.
I placed my hand over the bidding console.
My hesitation had ended.
Click.
I entered the number.
I pressed it with an overwhelming amount.
“800,000.”
The number appeared on the display board.
The hall stirred with shock.
“8, 800,000?!”
The auctioneer’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Even for a legendary-grade soul, this price was an overpayment.
No one else dared to follow.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Sold! It goes to our anonymous bidder!”
The Glass Chamber was transmitted to my Private Room.
Before me lay the soul of the Sword Saint.
Up close, the blue threads connected with even greater clarity.
The rune on my left hand vibrated with what felt like joy.
‘What exactly is this?’
The true nature of this blue rune.
And what connection did I share with that soul?
It was time to find out.
I placed my hand against the Glass Chamber.
Zzzt.
A rejection reaction.
-…!!!
The Sword Saint’s soul within the Glass Chamber screamed.
Eyes rolling back, it thrashed violently.
Hatred.
Primordial hostility toward The Deities.
The rage of one whose world had been destroyed, whose very soul had been bound by those beings—it flowed through my fingertips.
But then.
Whoooosh.
The blue rune inscribed on my left palm blazed with light.
-…?
The soul hesitated.
Shhhhh.
Its resistance ceased.
The Sword Saint’s expression grew serene.
His fury toward the Deities remained, but at least the hostility directed at me had dissipated.
The soul flowed along a blue thread of light, seeping into my left hand.
Ding!
[Soul #1, ‘Garcia’s Sword Saint’ has been stored.]
[‘Soul Bestowal’ has been activated.]
‘Soul Bestowal?’
It was an unfamiliar power.
I wondered if it belonged to the realm of necromancy or spirit summoning, but the sensation felt different.
It seemed to be a far more transcendent ability—layering the strength of a soul onto a weapon or target.
If my right hand was ‘Consumption’…
‘…then my left hand is ‘Dominion’?’
I couldn’t say for certain.
The origin of this power remained a mystery to me.
But one thing was clear: it would become a formidable weapon.
“And now, our next item!”
The auctioneer’s cry shattered my reverie.
A second glass chamber rose on the lift.
I turned my gaze toward it without thinking.
And froze.
“This time, we have the soul of one called the ‘Grand Sage’ in the Destroyed World!”
Grand Sage.
A title far too familiar.
And within the glass chamber, the soul of an old man with a white beard.
‘…Plunum?’
A sigh escaped me unbidden.
A companion from my past life.
My mentor and friend who had taught me the principles of magic.
Grand Sage Plunum was there.
‘How is this possible?’
I could not comprehend it.
He had climbed the Tower with me.
He had fought to the bitter end to prevent Earth’s destruction.
In that final moment, he had perished blocking their assault.
Then why.
Why was he among the souls of a world that had fallen long before Earth?
Then, a message from the Deities obscured my vision.
[Anonymous 3: Oh, that’s a fine specimen.]
[Anonymous 58: Excellent mana circuits. Perfect for crafting an ‘Avatar’.]
[Anonymous 95: My last avatar was so weak I was dissatisfied. I should switch to that one.]
[Anonymous 51: That intelligence modifier must be quite high. I’m envious.]
…An avatar?
It felt like I’d been struck across the head.
The puzzle pieces clicked into place.
Terrifyingly, perfectly.
They harvest the souls of destroyed worlds.
And using those souls as material, they create ‘avatars’.
They mold shells and breathe their own divinity into them, indulging in amusement.
If that’s the case.
‘Was Plunum… an avatar from the very beginning.’
The Grand Sage who stood beside me.
That old man who cast magic recklessly to save humanity.
He was actually an exquisite puppet crafted by someone.
The Final Party’s five members.
Me, Kim Jung-seok.
And Park Ha-yan.
We are certainly human.
But the other three?
Sword Emperor Aritolte.
Toje Yamamoto.
Grand Sage Plunum.
‘Could all three be avatars?’
I bit my lip.
Please, let it not be so.
Those three were far too powerful.
Strength that transcended the bounds of humanity by an immeasurable distance.
A growth rate that defied explanation as mere fortune.
Yet, it could be otherwise.
Park Ha-yan, despite not being an avatar, had not achieved such overwhelming growth.
I myself had reached the pinnacle of sorcery.
Grrrrgh.
I clenched my fist tightly.
That soul must be saved too.
Even if Plunum was the material for an avatar, the memories and personality dwelling within could not be false.
I had to confirm it.
How far they had deceived us.
And who the deity wearing that shell truly was.
Vwoooom.
My left hand resonated once more.
A far more violent vibration than when the Sword Saint’s soul had stirred.
The blue rune characters burned across my palm with searing heat.
‘I must have it.’
Instinct hammered through my mind.
Plunum.
His soul was no mere material component.
It was the key to unlocking truth itself, the decisive clue that would unravel their avatar manufacturing methods.
“The auction begins! 500,000!”
The bidding started immediately.
“700,000!”
“800,000!”
“1,000,000!”
The price skyrocketed madly.
The soul of the Grand Sage.
Its intelligence stat bonus was exceptionally high.
For the Deities who favored magic-based avatars, it was an irresistible prize.
[Anonymous 12: 1.2 million. Hand it over.]
[Anonymous 4: Don’t be ridiculous. 1.3 million.]
The competition was fierce.
It had devolved into a battle of pride.
I stared coldly at the bidding device with eyes like ice.
Nectar was nothing but numbers to me.
But I could not let them take it.
I would never allow my teacher and comrade’s soul to become a plaything for those creatures again, not even in death.
I pressed the button.
“2 million.”
Silence.
The entire Colosseum fell quiet as if doused with cold water.
Murmurs echoed from beyond the private rooms.
[Anonymous 12: …2 million?]
[Anonymous 88: Are they insane? For a mere soul?]
[Anonymous 4: The Nectar must be rotting away.]
Shock. And suspicion.
A bold move, jumping 700,000 Nectar in a single bid.
It was overwhelming capital power that no one could match.
The auctioneer’s voice trembled as he called out.
“2, 2 million! Does anyone bid higher?”
No one did.
How could they.
Even among the Deities, none were foolish enough to burn 2 million Nectar on a mere plaything.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Sold!”
The glass chamber passed into my possession.
Grand Sage Plutonium’s soul materialized before me.
I clenched my fist.
‘I’ve saved him.’
Yet the vibration in my left hand did not cease.
There was more.
One more soul remained—not merely what I needed, but what my very power hungered for.
* * *
The auction had concluded.
The piercing gazes of the Deities behind me burned, but I paid them no mind.
7th Floor, Golden Temple Secret Chamber.
I arranged three glass chambers in a line.
Garcia’s Sword Saint.
Grand Sage Plutonium.
And.
‘Bow Ghost.’
[Item Name: ‘Bow Ghost (弓鬼)’ who shot down the sun]
[Description: A sniper from the destroyed World 402. Renowned for evasion that even divine eyes cannot perceive, and marksmanship that never misses.]
These three alone had resonated with my left hand.
‘How should I use them?’
I pondered.
Absorption didn’t seem to be it.
Otherwise, the power wouldn’t bear the name ‘Soul Bestowal.’
Bestowal.
To overlay upon a target.
Which meant I needed a target.
That was when it happened.
Uuuuuung!
The third glass chamber—Bow Ghost’s soul—vibrated violently.
As if calling out to someone.
At the same moment.
“…Master?”
Seria’s voice echoed from beyond the secret chamber.
She entered.
Then.
“Ah…!”
Seria’s gaze locked onto Bow Ghost’s soul.
She seemed entranced.
The soul trembled as it beheld Seria.
It was resonance.
We recognized each other.
‘I see.’
Understanding dawned.
The purpose of these souls.
They were ‘new power’ bestowed upon those worthy—those whose vessels were perfectly suited.
Ding!
[Conditions fulfilled.]
[Target: Frost Tribe’s Seria]
[Condition 1: Must be an apostle.]
[Condition 2: Loyalty must exceed the threshold.]
[Condition 3: Soul and aptitude must align.]
Every condition aligned perfectly.
Seria was my retainer and, in all practical sense, my apostle.
Her loyalty had long since maxed out.
And she was the Frost Tribe’s greatest marksman.
No vessel could have been more perfect for accepting the soul of Bow Ghost.
I looked at Seria.
“Seria.”
“Yes, yes!”
“Do you wish to grow stronger?”
Her eyes blazed with fervor.
There was no hesitation.
“I do. If it means being of service to you, Master, I would sell my very soul to a demon.”
Venom.
And desperation.
Approved.
I opened the Glass Chamber.
I seized the soul with my left hand.
Blue runes flooded across my entire palm, absorbing the soul.
“Accept this.”
I placed my hand upon Seria’s forehead.
‘Soul Bestowal.’
Whoooosh!
Light erupted.
The soul of Bow Ghost was drawn into Seria’s body.
Rumble!
Her body lifted into the air.
Mana swirled violently around her.
Her silver hair grew longer still, and strange cross-shaped marks were inscribed upon her azure eyes.
Transcendence.
The moment one sheds the shackles of their race and is reborn as a being of a new dimension.
Moments later.
The light faded.
Seria landed on the ground.
She was different.
The very atmosphere had transformed.
A cool, sharp, and lethal presence.
She opened her eyes.
Ding!
[Soul Bestowal has succeeded.]
[Causality is now connected.]
[Your servant Seria transcends.]
[You acquire the Hidden Class: Bow Ghost of Frozen Chains!]
[Latent potential awakens!]
[You acquire a Unique Skill!]
[Maximum level increases by 50!]
Soul Bestowal, and the connection of causality.
She obtained a Hidden Class, and my maximum level expanded by another fifty.
Moreover, with latent potential unlocked, I could now wield unique skills.
What else could this be called if not transcendence?
‘Could I bestow it upon myself?’
The thought suddenly occurred to me.
I had absorbed it—could I not bestow it upon myself?
I had maxed out every talent, so aptitude shouldn’t be an issue.
“M-Master…!”
Ignoring Seria, who gazed at me with overwhelming emotion, I raised my left hand and placed it against my chest.
Containing the soul of the first Sword Saint.
‘Soul Bestowal.’
Ding!
[The Sword Saint’s soul desperately refuses.]
[It fears.]
[It is seized by terror.]
What could a Sword Saint—one who had even faced the world’s destruction—possibly fear?
Another message appeared shortly after.
Ding!
[A soul has already been bestowed.]
[Currently bestowed soul: ‘Irresistible Force’.]

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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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