The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 46

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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 46.
Biting cold.
Piercing frost.
The very air of Floor 55 seemed to crystallize in an instant.
It was a chill far more vicious and suffocating than Cryos’s blizzard.
“….”
Seria’s breath caught.
The Elves sprawled on the ground lifted their eyes toward me, wide with shock.
Even the Ancient Warriors who had sworn their loyalty to me moments before betrayed their bewilderment behind their helms.
The reaction was inevitable.
Because it was madness.
Heimdall’s expression hardened.
The massive hand he had extended froze in the air.
His brow furrowed with menace.
The gentle breeze swirling around him transformed in an instant into a razor-sharp gale.
“…What did you just say.”
A voice pitched low and dangerous.
At those words alone, the Ground trembled faintly.
Killing intent.
Refuse his goodwill, and I die.
I know this.
I know Heimdall is no trivial deity.
I must not deceive myself—just because he has smiled at me, granted me divine power, and bestowed overwhelming favor does not change what he is.
He is a supreme-tier god who reigns at the very apex of Asgard.
A true powerhouse who ascended to that throne alone, without a single apostle, without alliance or aid from any other.
A merciless monster who has bent countless gods beneath his heel and torn asunder those who dared displease him with tempests.
I knew better than anyone how cold and cruel a being he was within this Tower.
To reject his proposal here was to sully his pride.
My head could fly from my shoulders without a second thought.
And yet.
I must not forget.
I am a god-slayer.
One who desires the ruin of this Tower.
Deep within my soul coils a venom meant to annihilate them all.
Moreover, Heimdall.
He is likely the very enemy who spawned that terrible tempest that tore my parents asunder.
Bow willingly before such a creature?
Wag my tail and call his glory my own?
Repugnant.
I felt sick.
And yet.
Because of this.
I let out a soft chuckle.
I met Heimdall’s cold, hardened gaze directly.
And then.
Slowly.
I knelt down on one knee.
I lowered the head I had held so arrogantly high.
I carefully and reverently took his suspended hand in both of mine.
“…?”
Heimdall’s eyebrows twitched.
A flicker of bewilderment crossed his face.
I opened my mouth with the utmost formality and desperation.
“The order has been reversed, my lord.”
“Reversed?”
“How could a mere junior deity, freshly ascended to the Tower, dare to accept a ‘choice’ from the great master of all things?”
I lifted my head to gaze up at him reverently.
I feigned eyes blazing with absolute devotion and blind faith.
“How could I possibly have the right to accept or refuse such an offer?”
I infused my voice with strength.
Pouring desperation into every word, I cried out clearly so my voice echoed across all of Floor 55.
“I humbly beseech you.”
Heimdall’s pupils dilated.
“Will you accept me as your apostle deity?”
Silence.
The storm had ceased.
The killing intent dissipated.
Heimdall stared down at me in a daze.
This was not the scene he had envisioned.
Not me accepting his proposal, but me pleading first, bowing first, begging to submit beneath him.
A perfect performance that fed his absolute authority and arrogance to their limits.
Heimdall’s eyes blazed with intense fervor.
His lips trembled.
And then.
“…Kuhahahaha!”
A booming laugh erupted as if the heavens themselves were collapsing.
He laughed like a madman, tilting back his head while gripping my hand.
“Hahaha! You! You truly are!”
Heimdall seized my shoulders roughly and shook me.
His face radiated uncontainable joy.
“I truly admire your spirit! You know how to pick me up and set me down!”
He understood that I had toyed with him.
Yet he harbored no displeasure.
Instead, he applauded my audacity and cunning.
As if to say that anyone who would become his apostle deity must possess this degree of nerve and political acumen.
“Excellent! Truly excellent!”
Heimdall lifted me to my feet.
His gaze now transcended mere favor, shining with absolute trust and affection.
“I, Heimdall, gladly accept your earnest plea!”
In that moment, I felt it.
The contract of apostle deity.
A portion of his divine power flowing into me, his station enveloping my being.
I gazed upon Heimdall and smiled brilliantly.
The face of a loyal apostle.
A mask of an ambitious, eager junior deity.
I perform.
I deceive them all.
I blind the eyes of this colossal Tower and exploit their arrogance.
Within it, I will sharpen my blade.
The sharpest, most lethal blade of all.
For this Tower is the stage and playground of my ‘amusement’.
Heimdall raised his hand.
His fingers touched his forehead lightly.
A brilliant flash erupted.
Dazzling light poured forth.
Something was slowly extracting from his forehead.
The pure and immense essence of divine power.
The source of the tempest that dominates all creation.
What gathered at Heimdall’s fingertip was small, yet its density was overwhelming.
An aura so heavy it distorted the surrounding space.
“This is my divine authority.”
He spoke in a solemn voice.
“My power and my proof of divinity.”
Heimdall extended his hand.
The divine authority gathered at his fingertip approached my forehead.
The moment the divine authority touched my forehead, my entire body erupted in goosebumps.
Ding!
The familiar notification sound of the System pierced my eardrums.
A translucent message window materialized before my eyes.
[The Absolute Deity, the God of Tempests ‘Heimdall’ demands an apostle deity contract.]
[Do you accept?]
An Apostle Deity contract.
A relationship akin to master and disciple.
A sacred vow to borrow the power of a superior Deity and share in their divine station.
There was no reason to refuse.
Besides, hadn’t I already knelt and performed this entire charade for precisely this moment?
I nodded without hesitation.
Ding!
[The Apostle Deity contract is proceeding.]
[Determining the magnitude of the ‘divine station’ to be granted.]
[Rolling the dice.]
“…?”
I blinked.
A dice roll?
Surely the System wasn’t requiring me to roll dice just to obtain a divine station?
It was absurd.
A System that transforms even sacred rituals into gambling.
But the real problem came in the next line.
[Dice (1~???)]
‘…Question marks?’
Wait. What is this?
I doubted my own eyes.
I had rolled countless dice until now.
But never once had the range been marked with question marks.
Even when opening Pandora’s Cube, the maximum was clearly set at 1,000.
But now there’s no upper limit?
What could it possibly mean for the maximum to be an unknown variable?
“There is no need for concern.”
Heimdall, misinterpreting my rigid expression, spoke up.
“The number will manifest according to the capacity of your vessel.”
He placed his hand upon my forehead, smiling with the benevolence of a true master.
“How much of the divine station I grant you that you can accept—whether you fill that vessel to its fullest or not—rests entirely upon your own discretion.”
It became clear.
Heimdall cannot see the System’s dice.
What the maximum is. Whether question marks appeared.
It seemed visible only to me.
Thus, he was laboring under a misunderstanding.
“Do not be disappointed if the maximum proves lower than expected. The disparity in rank between you and me is a chasm that cannot be bridged—this is only natural.”
He believed I was disappointed.
He was actually concerned that I might think the maximum too low to make rolling worthwhile.
“Even if the number is low, you will inherit a portion of my authority, and that alone will make you a being of an entirely different caliber than Cryos.”
His tone was kindness incarnate.
An attitude suggesting he harbored no concern whatsoever about which authority I would inherit or claim.
To be precise.
“A number around 50 would suffice. As my sole apostle deity, you will eventually inherit all my glory regardless.”
…It meant that whatever I claimed would amount to nothing.
But.
‘Heh.’
It was the exact opposite.
I wasn’t disappointed.
Had I been disappointed, I wouldn’t have reacted like this at all.
I swallowed hard.
Even I felt the tension of this moment.
I couldn’t possibly gauge what number would appear.
100? 1,000? Or perhaps more?
The minimum was fixed at 1.
It meant I would never roll below 1.
Until now, there had always been a maximum set.
And I had always drawn a number equal to that maximum.
The only exception was when I rolled the Pandora Cube and got 1,001.
That was the first time a result exceeded the limit.
I had once rolled the Lucky Dice and added the result value once more.
But that too occurred within a clearly defined numerical range.
It was far removed from a true ‘question mark’.
A die without limits.
A tool to measure the size of my vessel.
Could it be due to the Absolute Deity coiled deep within my soul—the existence of ‘inevitability’?
Or was it because of this out-of-specification body I created by pouring 100 million SP into character generation?
I couldn’t know the reason.
But the die had already begun to roll.
Clatter-clatter-clatter.
A massive holographic die spun through the air.
Numbers changed wildly.
Heimdall still had his hand pressed against my forehead.
His expression remained serene.
He was surely gauging the size of my vessel, feeling his vast divine authority flow into me.
Looking at the smile playing at his lips, he seemed utterly untroubled by any anxiety.
Rather, his composure was complete—as if observing a beloved child.
The die’s rotation gradually decelerated.
My heartbeat quickened in tandem.
My palms grew slick with sweat.
Then, at last.
Click.
The die came to a complete stop.
The result fixed itself upon the screen.
And.
“…!”
My eyes widened in shock.
My breath caught in my throat.
It felt as though my heart had plummeted into the depths of my chest.
“…Huh?”
Even Heimdall’s composed expression froze in place.
There was no other way it could be.
It was only natural.
…The result of rolling the die made absolutely no sense.

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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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