The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 5

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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 5.
The Dragon’s Egg.
Fifteen fragments of the shattered Golden Ratio.
An extraordinary reward.
One fragment grants one hour of Rag’s full power, meaning I can wield it completely for a total of fifteen hours.
This more than suffices as initial capital.
But what truly captured my attention was something else entirely.
‘Kartal, the Lesser Earthquake Deity.’
I remember that name with perfect clarity.
From my past, during the days I climbed the Tower.
A horrific monster I encountered on Tower Floor 34.
The creature that trampled and devoured countless comrades.
“…It’s confirmed now.”
My suspicion had crystallized into certainty.
The monsters of the Tower.
Those accursed gods have spawned ‘characters’ on the game board called Earth.
And they revel in violating humanity while wearing human masks.
My lips twisted into a grin.
They masquerade as hunters, but the truth is different.
I am the true hunter.
I have become the ‘predator’ that devours them.
I just proved it.
When I kill their avatars on Earth, their true bodies in Asgard are annihilated as well.
Furthermore, I can claim their unique divine authorities as my own.
‘The Calamity Devourer.’
This power exists for the sole purpose of exterminating them.
My thoughts spiraled into one another.
Memories from the past.
Those called ‘heroes’ in a world crumbling toward ruin.
‘Something was always off about them.’
There were creatures that appeared suddenly one day, flaunting overwhelming might.
Wretches who posed as humanity’s saviors, leading people forward, only to drive them all into destruction at the critical moment.
Could a considerable number of them have been avatars of those ‘gods’?
Spawning calamities to sow terror.
Receiving worship by pretending to resolve those very calamities.
Demons that ultimately dealt despair while cackling with glee.
Suddenly, a thought struck me.
‘What if.’
The Final Party that climbed to the Tower’s end alongside me.
Sword Emperor Aritolte.
Grand Sage Plutonium.
Toje Yamamoto.
And Spirit Lord Park Ha-yan.
Could divine avatars have been concealed among them as well?
I cannot know.
But I cannot dismiss the possibility.
If that were true, how they must have laughed as I thrashed about helplessly.
“…It matters not.”
I clenched my fists tightly.
I have no time to waste trembling in betrayal.
What matters is what comes next.
Hummmmm.
I opened my right palm.
Golden runes pulsed with a faint luminescence.
This hand does not lie.
The source of calamity itself.
It detects the putrid stench of the gods with uncanny precision.
Whether they parade as heroes or hold their breath in hiding.
‘I will devour each one I find.’
I resolved to become a true hunter.
In Asgard, the Tower Gods themselves.
On Earth, the avatars they have created!
The method for finding avatars is simple.
I remember the times and places where great catastrophes occur.
Their avatars will surely be present at those locations.
Both worlds are mutually complementary to me.
It means I can not only hunt, but grow infinitely by extracting maximum advantage from both sides.
Therefore.
‘…I will conquer the Tower.’
This time.
No matter what, I will conquer the Tower perfectly.
* * *
March 14th, 2026.
The world named this day the “Great Upheaval.”
There were no omens.
There was no warning.
It began with a fragment of ordinary life crumbling away.
-Breaking news! A magnitude 7 earthquake has struck the heart of Seoul Gangnam!
-A massive chasm has opened above New York Times Square! Unidentified monsters are pouring forth!
-Tokyo sinks! A tsunami engulfs the city!
-Paris, London, Beijing… simultaneous catastrophes erupting across the entire globe!
The broadcast anchors’ voices trembled.
The landscape visible through the screen was hell itself.
Collapsed skyscrapers.
Fractured earth.
And from the crevices, grotesque entities crawled forth.
“Krraaaagh!”
“P-please! Save us! Monsters!”
“Mom! Mom!”
Screams and shrieks engulfed the world.
The military mobilized and unleashed missiles, but they proved useless.
Modern weaponry couldn’t even pierce their hides.
Humanity was powerless.
Despair spread like a plague.
Then it happened.
Ding!
A crystalline notification tone resonated in the ears of all humanity.
[‘System’ is now activated.]
[Magical power is unlocked.]
[Humans bearing latent ‘talents’ are awakening.]
A cerulean message window materialized in the air.
Flames ignited in someone’s hands.
Someone’s body hardened like steel.
Someone soared through the sky upon the wind.
‘Awakened ones.’
The moment superhumans were born.
Boom!
In a shelter in Seoul.
Just as a wolf-shaped beast the size of a house descended upon a child.
A young man’s fist, wreathed in inferno, obliterated the creature’s skull.
“…D-did he kill it?”
“A human defeated a monster with his bare hands?”
Cameras broadcast the scene live.
The entire world witnessed the miracle.
Terror transformed into awe.
People cheered.
They exalted them.
“Heroes!”
“The Deity has not abandoned us!”
“Heroes have appeared!”
The media outlets competed to spotlight the Awakened.
The dawn of a new era.
They proclaimed in bold headlines that the age of superhumans who would save humanity had arrived.
But no one knew.
What truth lurked beneath the glittering facade of these heroes.
Among them were some who were purely human Awakened.
Yet many of those who shone most brilliantly, grew most powerful, and rose to fame most swiftly.
Were the “Seeds of Calamity” that would drive humanity toward extinction.
They were laughing.
Amid the cheers of the masses.
Hidden behind the sweet title of savior.
Looking down upon the toys dancing upon the game board they had laid out.
Thus, the world changed.
* * *
The winds of change blew not only across Earth.
Asgard, the land of the divine.
And at its center, the Tower of Gods.
Cracks formed even in that absolute space which seemed eternal and immutable.
Uuuuoooong!
The entire Tower trembled with a low resonance.
Ripples spread through the once-peaceful Garden of Gods.
The gazes of the deities, who had been exchanging idle conversation or watching the destruction of the lower realms, snapped toward the void.
Before their eyes appeared a crimson message that should never have surfaced.
Ding!
[We bring grave tidings.]
[The master of Tower Floor 34, the Lesser Earthquake God Kartal, has been slain.]
[His existence has been completely erased from Asgard.]
Silence.
The deities doubted their own eyes.
“…Kartal is dead.”
“Who in the world could have slain Kartal?”
Murmurs spread like waves.
Gods do not die.
They may be worn away by the ages, yet being slain by another is exceedingly rare.
And for a mid-ranking god who held dominion over Tower Floor 34 to be murdered!
But the system allowed no time for sentiment.
[The hierarchy is being adjusted to fill the vacancy on Floor 34.]
[The master of Floor 33 is promoted to Floor 34.]
[The master of Floor 32 is promoted to Floor 33.]
….
[The ruler of the First Floor is promoted to the Second Floor.]
A cascading chain of promotions unfolded like dominoes.
The deities dwelling in the lower floors were forcibly pushed upward, one step at a time.
And finally.
[The First Floor has been vacated.]
[Preparations are complete to receive a new deity.]
At the very bottom, a vacancy had opened on the First Floor.
This signified that a new Seeds had been granted the opportunity to ascend to godhood.
Under normal circumstances, this would have sparked a festival atmosphere.
Yet the expressions of the deities remained rigid.
Confusion had ignited their fear.
“This is incomprehensible.”
Someone broke the silence and spoke.
“Did Kartal not participate in this ‘Earth Amusement’?”
“That’s right. He definitely created an avatar and descended.”
“Then why has his true body been annihilated?”
It was a question that struck at the heart of the matter.
An avatar was nothing more than a shell.
Merely a terminal for accessing the game board called Earth.
Even if the avatar were destroyed on Earth, the true body in Asgard should remain intact, suffering only minor magical depletion under normal circumstances.
Such were the rules of the “safe amusement” they had designed.
A deity participating in the amusement had been annihilated.
And without the slightest warning, they had been murdered.
“An investigation is necessary.”
“We must determine the cause.”
The Divine Council assembled an investigative team.
While some grappled with alarm and bewilderment over this matter.
Others, drunk on jubilation, were shouting themselves hoarse with triumphant cheers.
* * *
Tower Basement.
That damp and humid place was called the Waiting Room.
But in truth, it was little different from a detention facility.
A place teeming with thousands upon thousands of Seeds.
Though they called themselves children of The Deity, reality was merciless.
They were nothing but a pack of hyenas waiting for a vacancy to appear.
“Waaaaaahhhhh!”
“Finally! Finally a position has opened!”
Suddenly, cheers erupted from the Waiting Room.
Some embraced one another and danced, while others wept openly on the ground, overwhelmed with emotion.
There was only one reason.
Just moments ago, the System Message had been shared with them as well.
[The First Floor has been vacated.]
[Preparations are complete to accept a new Deity.]
The weight of these words was absolute.
The Tower’s structure resembled a pyramid.
The higher one ascended, the fewer positions available; the lower levels remained sealed.
Only when the master of the First Floor ascended or perished could one of the Seeds dwelling in the Underground claim that vacant seat.
“How long has it been, exactly?”
“I can’t even remember. Three hundred years? No, it must be at least five hundred.”
Deities were beings bordering on immortality.
A vacancy arising was nearly miraculous.
That miracle had occurred today.
Flames ignited in the eyes of the Seeds.
“This time, it’s my turn.”
“Don’t make me laugh. By waiting order, I’m first!”
“Why not settle it by strength?”
Killing intent began to permeate the air.
The competition had already commenced in all but name.
Then, someone abruptly spoke up.
“By the way… have you heard the rumor?”
“A rumor?”
“About the one Heimdall brought here personally.”
All eyes converged upon the speaker.
It was the hottest topic burning through the Underground of late.
Heimdall, the Storm Deity.
The eccentric god had personally brought a single Seed from beyond Asgard—or so the rumor claimed.
“Ah, that ‘parachute recruit’?”
“Right. He supposedly brought them, but they haven’t entered the Tower yet.”
“Did they run away? Out of fear?”
The Seeds snickered amongst themselves.
“I thought they’d be impressive, given how he brought them personally.”
“Clearly just a coward. How pathetic.”
They felt relief wash over them.
One formidable rival had been eliminated from contention.
Their mockery also carried the envy and resentment of those denied the privilege bestowed upon another.
“Forget about it. If they don’t show up, it’s only better for us, right?”
“Exactly. The new Deity will be one of us!”
The atmosphere was about to intensify further when—
BOOM!
A deafening roar shook the entire Underground.
The Seeds’ gazes converged upon a single point in unison.
The entrance to the Tower.
The massive bronze doors, which had seemed so firmly sealed that they would never open, were slowly grinding apart.
Creeeeeak!
The spine-chilling screech of ancient metal grinding against metal.
The Seeds who had been cheering fell silent, their mouths snapping shut.
Silence descended upon the underground chamber.
Through the widening gap, a dazzling torrent of light poured inward.
And then.
Thud. Thud.
Silhouetted against that radiance, a man strode through the threshold.
Golden hair cascading down.
A gait so arrogant it bordered on insolence.
An air of complete indifference to the stares of those around him.
He halted his advance and lifted his gaze, slowly surveying the Seeds gathered in the underground chamber.
His eyes held the cold, detached gaze of one observing insects.
“…Who are you?”
Someone asked, their voice trembling.
The man did not answer.
Instead, he merely gestured with his hand.
It was something one could sense instinctively.
The subject of the rumors.
That ‘parachute’ Heimdall had brought with him!
Hiss!
“Pleased to meet you all. I am Rag.”
…So this was indeed that man.

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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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