The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 42

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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 42.
How to Conquer Cryos.
I already knew.
He had to die three times to be completely annihilated.
The weakness of Phase 1 was his heart.
The weakness of Phase 2 was a concealed core that moved in sync with a specific rhythm.
It was a pattern I had learned through countless sacrifices in the past.
Seria’s arrows had pierced through both opportunities flawlessly.
But I didn’t let my guard down.
‘My mana is sufficient.’
Ever since the war began, I had been pouring out divine authority without pause.
Normally, my mana would have been depleted long ago, and I would have collapsed.
But I had the ‘Ber Rune’.
[The Ber Rune’s effect activates.]
[You recover mana equal to 7% of the damage dealt to enemies.]
Every time my calamity swept away his legions.
Every time thousands of Frost Giants and the Frozen Knight Order melted away.
Mana poured in like a waterfall.
Truly, infinite power.
It was the driving force that allowed me to dominate this battlefield.
Roooaaarrr!
Blue light erupted from the collapsed heap of ice.
The temperature plummeted drastically.
My breath froze, and the ground turned white.
“I’ll kill you all…! Pathetic insects!”
Cryos’s voice tore through the air.
Fragments swirled and began to coalesce once more.
Phase 3.
The final form, and the most vicious transformation.
This was where the real crisis began.
Cryos grew stronger with each phase transition.
Above all, there was one infuriating rule.
‘He’s invincible during the transformation.’
No attack could touch him.
The System protected him until his completely new body was fully formed.
That invincible window lasted a full ten minutes.
“Knights of Death! Tear apart the sniper!”
Cryos’s command fell.
The four knights battering my Protective Barrier suddenly wheeled their skeletal steeds around.
The bone-white horses kicked off the air and charged toward Seria.
Whiiiiiing!
Simultaneously, the precursor phenomena of Phase 3 commenced.
A blizzard of “Absolute Zero” that froze everything it touched.
The hot springs of the Golden City cracked and froze solid.
“Ugh!”
Seria gasped.
Icicles formed at the tips of her silver hair.
Four immortal knights surrounded her in the bone-chilling cold.
Clang! Screech!
Seria swung her bow, deflecting their spears.
Her movements, having accepted the soul of the Bow Ghost, were ghostlike.
But the environment was catastrophic.
The agony of her lungs freezing with each breath.
Her joints stiffening progressively.
Ten minutes.
Seria had to endure ten minutes against four knights in this hellish blizzard.
‘And what comes after—that’s the real problem.’
I analyzed the scene coldly from within the Protective Barrier.
Phase 3 Cryos.
His weakness was no longer singular.
Twelve cores.
I had to destroy all twelve cores scattered across his entire body simultaneously.
If even 0.1 seconds were off?
The destroyed cores would regenerate instantly.
A battlefield engulfed in swirling blizzard.
Twelve targets moving frantically.
To strike them all at once?
Even with the Bow Ghost’s power, it was physically impossible for Seria.
A bow could only fire one arrow at a time.
“Seria.”
I transmitted my voice to her ear through mana.
“Can you hold on?”
Screech! Crunch!
Seria dodged the knight’s spear and drove an arrow home.
The knight’s shoulder burst open, but they attacked again without pain.
Red blood streamed down her cheek.
Before it could run down her jaw, the blood had turned to crimson ice.
“…Of course, my lord.”
Her voice held not a shred of wavering.
Venom.
It was Cryos—the one who had sought to turn his own kin into sacrificial offerings.
To kill him, Seria was prepared to burn herself to ash.
And the other elves felt the same way.
“Go!”
Shadows that had been lying in ambush throughout the Forest erupted all at once.
Frost Tribe Elves.
The weak ones Cryos had dismissed as mere kindling.
But things were different now.
Their eyes burned with a piercing, icy light.
The weapons in their hands thrummed with dense mana.
Whoosh!
Thunk!
Seria fired her bow and retreated backward.
The Four Knights of Death pursued her relentlessly.
The distance widened.
Cryos’s main force and the Four Knights were now completely separated.
The trap was set.
I grasped the pendant hanging around my neck.
I deactivated the Protective Barrier of the Ancient Deity.
Whoosh.
The transparent veil dissipated.
Then I stood once more in the center of the Battlefield.
I drew a deep breath.
My objective was clear.
Cryos, trapped within that frozen cocoon.
He had ten minutes remaining before his third-phase transformation completed.
During the transformation, he was invincible.
No attack could pierce his shell.
But conversely, that meant he was nothing but a defenseless punching bag.
Within those ten minutes, I would sever every limb he possessed.
“Annihilate them!”
With my cry, the full assault began.
The elves formed ranks and unleashed a torrent of magic and arrows.
Boom!
The shields of the Frozen Knight Order shattered.
The legs of the Frost Giants were severed.
Overwhelming firepower.
It was a one-sided massacre.
It was finally here.
I closed my eyes.
The Protective Barrier of the Ancient Deity.
Within it, I cannot move, nor can I attack directly.
I am utterly confined.
But I am no warrior.
I am a mage.
A mage does not draw a blade and charge forward.
A mage constructs the board.
I establish formulas, control variables, and extract perfect outcomes.
Everything up to this point had unfolded within the board I wove.
Cryos fell into my design without a single deviation.
I dissolved the Protective Barrier and stepped forward.
Rummmble!
Roooaaarrr!
The gale of annihilation.
And calamity descending from all directions.
Two divine authorities erupted once more.
The Battlefield transformed into a Sea of Fire.
The Ground crumbled and tempests raged.
Each time my mana struck bottom, the Ver Rune blazed crimson.
I was an inexhaustible calamity.
“Kyaaahhh!”
“P-please… spare us…!!”
Cryos’s legion melted away.
* * *
Within the Ice Cocoon.
Cryos watched the spectacle unfold with perfect clarity.
His pupils trembled as though an earthquake had struck.
‘…This cannot be.’
He could not believe it.
Were these truly the Frost Tribe he once knew?
Merely thirty days had passed.
They were vermin who had screamed for mercy upon the Altar.
Yet now they were slaughtering his elite legion.
Their movements, their strength, the purity of their mana.
Everything had transformed into something beyond human.
‘Nectar…!’
Cryos understood in an instant.
The source of that monstrous vitality and mana.
The drink of the Deities.
The absolute elixir that strengthens divinity.
‘You fed Nectar to those mortals?’
And not just a drop or two.
To produce that level of output, you’d have to pour it out like water.
It’s madness.
Even the Deities themselves hoard Nectar, unwilling to waste it.
You gave it to mere expendable elves?
‘Just what in the world are you….’
Cryos’s gaze turned toward Rag.
‘What exactly are you trying to do!’
I had been certain of victory.
No—I had believed it was a battle I couldn’t possibly lose.
Crushing a greenhorn who’d only just begun climbing the Tower was as natural as breathing.
And yet.
Despite all that.
…I was toyed with.
From start to finish, I was played perfectly by him.
Flower Field.
Hot Spring.
Peaceful walking paths.
He had deliberately designed this Layer like a Resort.
Made himself appear foolish, ignorant of warfare.
Perfect camouflage to lull me into complacency.
All the while, he fed Nectar to the elves.
He completed his preparations to face me flawlessly.
The traps densely scattered across the Battlefield were unmistakable proof.
‘He even discovered my weaknesses.’
The heart in Phase One.
The core moving erratically in Phase Two.
It was no coincidence.
He knew my vulnerabilities precisely and struck at them.
His tactics were ruthlessly cunning.
He lured my elite guard, the Four Knights of Death, toward the sniper.
He completely separated my main force from the Four Knights.
Then he annihilated the rest of my army.
Commanding the elves, he eliminated every variable.
An organizational capability never seen from the low-intelligence monsters I’d purchased with Crystals.
Overwhelming capital combined with meticulous command—a devastating result.
“Krraaaagh!”
“P-please save us…!”
“We await your orders, Cryos!”
The screams of the dying never ceased.
Cryos’s elite legion was being depleted in vain.
The reason was simple.
Cryos had begun his transformation.
Trapped within the Ice Cocoon, he couldn’t even speak.
The commander who could issue orders had vanished.
Soldiers without leadership had devolved into nothing more than a disorganized rabble of brutes.
‘But it doesn’t matter.’
Inside the Ice Cocoon.
I suppressed the seething rage that threatened to consume me.
It wasn’t over yet.
The final third phase.
I only needed to complete this transformation.
The moment the transformation finished, I could repay this shameful humiliation a thousandfold.
I would flay the skin from that arrogant bastard who melted my legion and freeze his very soul.
Only three minutes remained.
If I could endure just three more minutes, victory would be mine.
That was when it happened.
Tap. Tap.
Footsteps echoed.
A gait so distinct it pierced through the cacophony of the Battlefield, striking my eardrums with crystalline clarity.
A deep shadow wavered beyond the cocoon.
It was Rag.
He was approaching.
‘Foolish wretch.’
I sneered inwardly.
Did he intend to attack?
It would be futile.
During my transformation, I existed in a state of ‘invincibility’.
And yet.
His actions were strange.
He didn’t swing a weapon.
He didn’t release any divine authority.
Splash. Glug glug glug.
The sound of liquid pouring filled the air.
He circled around the cocoon repeatedly.
And then he began scattering something across the ground.
Seeping through.
A golden radiance penetrated the Ice Cocoon, flowing inward.
Such dense, pure divine power.
Cryos’s pupils trembled uncontrollably.
‘Nectar, Nectar?’
He was aghast.
The man was pouring Nectar onto the ground.
It wasn’t just a drop or two.
He was literally dumping it out by the bottle, cascading it down without restraint.
Lines were drawn.
Circles were inscribed.
Geometric patterns intertwined and coalesced around the Ice Cocoon, forming an immense structure.
What was this?
Understanding dawned immediately.
‘A magic circle…!’
Nectar.
That precious elixir—as precious as the blood and flesh of the Deities themselves.
He was using it as mere ‘ink’ to draw the magic circle.
An insane act that shattered all reason.
Hehehehe!
Rag laughed.
“Cryos. Do you know why I decorated this Floor with a Forest and Hot Spring?”
A Resort. For leisure and indulgence.
Or was it merely a façade?
“It was to draw forth the power of the Earth.”
…So even that had a purpose?
Yet the words were not wrong.
A magic circle was necessary to gather and fix the surrounding energies.
It was an indispensable pattern for accumulating small points to manifest a tremendous phenomenon.
Naturally, the richer the surrounding energies, the greater the magic circle’s effect.
But for the great Deities, such measures were unnecessary.
Any phenomenon created by accumulating such small points paled in comparison to the divine authority wielded by the Deities.
The problem was that Rag was a Deity.
An immortal Deity employing the methods of mortals.
Constructing the circle with Nectar, drawing forth the power dwelling in this divine Land.
What could he possibly be attempting?
Uuuuuuuung!
The magic circle blazed with light.
Only then did Cryos comprehend.
That magic circle was.
The pattern inscribed upon it was.
‘Divine Retribution…! It’s Divine Retribution!’
…A curse that existed solely to slay a Deity.

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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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