The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 69

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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 69.
My ominous premonition proved accurate to the smallest detail.
Hundreds of eyes converged upon me in unison.
The entire Garden held its breath, awaiting my response.
“Akan, the Superior Deity of Chaotic Snow.”
Heimdall whispered low against my ear.
Chaotic snow.
Snow that swirls in dizzying disarray.
“A being of entirely different caliber than someone like Cryos.”
Just hearing the name confirmed he was Skadi’s closest confidant.
Moreover, he was a Superior Deity.
The physical prowess accumulated over eons would remain formidable even with my divine power suppressed by ninety-nine percent.
‘What do I do.’
Accept the challenge.
Or retreat from this stage with my tail between my legs.
My mind grew cold and sharp.
One thing was certain: in terms of raw physical capability alone, I would likely be outmatched.
Which meant I would have to win through technique.
‘…His stance.’
I studied Akan carefully.
The way he descended from the Platform.
How he stood with his arms hanging loose.
Not a single opening.
His center of gravity was low, his lower body rooted firmly to the Ground.
‘He’s well-versed in martial arts.’
There was no doubt.
He had mastered martial arts to their absolute limit.
When I thought about it, it was entirely inevitable.
These Deities had spent eons destroying hundreds and thousands of worlds for their amusement.
They had crafted countless avatars and crossed blades with the mortals of those worlds.
Swords, spears, martial techniques.
They had personally experienced and absorbed every form of martial art and combat technique the universe had to offer.
It would be far more absurd if Superior Deities and above were not specialists in combat.
A thin smile spread across her distant face.
Victory’s certainty gleamed in Skadi’s eyes.
The smile of one watching an insect ensnared in a spider’s web.
“….”
I glanced subtly to the side.
Heimdall’s expression remained serene.
Heimdall’s expression was calm.
He was staring at me with his chin resting on his hand.
His gaze conveyed a silent message.
-You may withdraw.
He would understand it too.
No matter how firmly I grasped Kwon Cheonsa’s blade, defeating a higher-tier deity was nearly impossible.
If I foolishly persisted and ended up rolling across the Banquet Hall floor,
not only would Heimdall’s own dignity be tarnished, but my divine essence would suffer grave damage as well.
Surrender would be the most rational and safest course.
“Apostle Rag.”
Akan called to me from atop the Platform, his tone dripping with mockery.
“If you fear me, run away. Like a terrified little mouse.”
A provocation.
The deities’ laughter rippled softly through the Garden.
I exhaled slowly.
And then.
With a soft rustle.
I rose from my seat.
Heimdall’s eyebrows twitched slightly.
Skadi’s sneer deepened.
I fixed my gaze directly upon Akan’s eyes.
“Your tongue runs long.”
I spoke calmly, yet with unmistakable arrogance.
“I accept your cheap provocation.”
“…Interesting.”
Aigis stroked his chin with evident fascination.
“It is decided. Both Apostles, ascend to the Platform.”
I moved forward.
Gripping Abriel’s hilt lightly, I climbed onto the Platform.
With a metallic clang.
The Silver-Armored Angels approached.
They fastened shackles of metal upon both my wrists and ankles.
‘Divine shackles.’
The moment they were secured, the vast divine power flowing through my entire body drained away like a receding tide.
My breath caught in my throat.
I could neither unleash hellfire nor summon tempests.
Only the faintest thread of divine power remained, barely circulating through my body.
“Now it’s finally fair.”
Akan too was shackled.
Yet his expression remained composed.
As if the heavy shackles were casual attire, he rotated his neck lightly and loosened his body.
I couldn’t help but laugh inwardly.
Fair? Fair?
How could it possibly be?
These shackles don’t completely sever divine power.
They leave behind roughly 1% of it.
But how could my 1% divine power as a lower-tier deity possibly equal that bastard’s 1% as an upper-tier deity?
“Well then.”
Akan drew a pair of long, slender twin blades from his robes.
The blade was transparent and sharp as snowflakes.
“Let us scatter together, shall we?”
Clang!
Aigis struck the Platform.
“Let the duel commence!”
The moment it began.
Whoosh!
Akan’s form vanished from my sight.
Fast.
His pure physical speed transcended my imagination.
‘Behind!’
I instinctively ducked my body.
Screech!
The twin blades’ edges grazed past my crown.
A few strands of hair were severed and scattered through the air.
A hair’s breadth away.
“You dodge quite well.”
Akan’s voice echoed near my ear.
He was already preparing his next attack.
The twin blades crossed, tracing a dizzying trajectory like a snowstorm.
‘The Chaotic Snowfall Blade.’
It was indeed a swordsmanship worthy of its name.
There was no predicting where the strikes would come from.
Dozens, hundreds of blade edges rained down like a deluge.
Clang! Crash! Bang!
I wielded Abriel frantically to block them all.
Sparks erupted.
My wrists throbbed with numbness.
‘So heavy.’
His blades appeared thin and light, yet each collision unleashed tremendous destructive force.
It was a difference in pure physical strength.
“Let’s see how long you can endure.”
Akan laughed mockingly, pressing his assault.
His blade strikes accelerated.
There was no room even to breathe.
‘At this rate, I’ll lose.’
If I continued only defending, I would eventually expose an opening and be cut down.
I attempted to disrupt his sword path using the enigmatic trajectories of the Heavenly Demon Sword Technique.
But Akan was seasoned.
A superior deity who had honed his martial prowess by annihilating countless worlds.
His swordsmanship had already approached a perfected form—an ‘absolute domain’.
Screech!
“Ugh…!”
Akan’s left blade grazed my shoulder shallowly as it passed.
Blood sprayed.
The shackles slowed even the wound’s recovery.
I heard the Garden Deities’ laughter tinged with derision.
Skadi leisurely raised her goblet of Nectar.
The tide of battle was turning decisively against me.
“Is this all you have?”
Akan swung his twin blades in a wide arc, preparing his final strike.
“Heimdall’s judgment appears to be flawed as well.”
My breath came in gasps.
I had no room even to respond.
…I could not help but acknowledge it.
‘I was arrogant.’
An unbroken winning streak.
Since entering the Tower until now, I had advanced without a single obstacle, moving at breakneck speed.
My confidence had swelled to pierce the heavens.
But it was a thorough delusion.
‘It was hubris.’
I had forgotten.
The vast chasm that separated inferior deities from those of higher ranks.
Middle-tier deities, and superior deities.
The eons they had spent were never wasted.
No matter how exceptional this body called ‘Rag’ was, it stood out only among the inferior deities.
A purely physical contest with divine power sealed away at ninety-nine percent.
Yet I was still being overwhelmed so completely.
‘This is the true depth of a superior deity.’
Screech.
Once more, Akan’s twin blades scraped across my flank shallowly.
Blood seeped forth.
My wounds multiplied with each passing moment, and my breath came ragged, rising to the very edge of my throat.
The Garden Deities already sneered at me with absolute certainty of my defeat.
Skadi sipped her Nectar with elegant grace, her mockery evident in every gesture.
Akan’s blade danced with frenzied intensity.
“Let me end this.”
He unleashed a torrent of killing intent, crossing his twin blades in a devastating arc.
There was no escape from this blind spot.
But.
“…Kkhehk.”
A bloody smile spread across my lips.
Laughter escaped me unbidden.
Not from fear or despair.
‘Because of this, I remember again.’
A fragment of memory I had forgotten, lodged deep within the very core of my soul.
Akan.
A high-ranking god of chaos.
I knew his name clearly, knew that filthy twin-blade technique of his.
‘I have faced him before.’
At the end of my previous life.
That hellish time when I and the Final Party crawled up the Tower, coughing blood.
That was when I encountered him.
Of course, it was not I who severed his neck.
The one who vanquished him was my only friend.
Humanity’s greatest swordmaster, the Sword Emperor Aritolte.
-Your swordsmanship is truly crude.
Aritolte mocked him, drenched in blood.
After a prolonged exchange, Aritolte’s massive greatsword shattered Akan’s twin blades and cleaved his waist in two.
I watched from behind, supporting with magic, etching every moment into my eyes with perfect clarity.
‘Remember.’
I half-closed my eyes.
I replayed the memory.
I recalled it.
The trajectory of Akan’s blade as it came at me, his habits, the fleeting blind spot created when his twin blades crossed.
And Aritolte’s swordsmanship that pierced through it all with perfect precision.
‘Aritolte.’
He was called the Sword Emperor, yet his mastery of the blade had long since surpassed even the high-ranking deities.
The crystallization of pure martial prowess.
I might never reach that height.
But perhaps I could imitate it.
A flash of light.
I opened my eyes.
Clang!
I twisted Abriel and deflected Akan’s right blade.
“…?”
Akan’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
He sensed the shift in my movements—no longer merely struggling to defend, but something fundamentally different.
The momentum had changed.
I was no longer retreating or giving ground.
Instead, I pressed forward, driving directly into the heart of his blade strike.
Shing!
Akan’s left blade bit deep into my shoulder.
Blood sprayed.
Pain lanced through my skull.
Yet I clenched my teeth and laughed.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Wounds multiply, but I will not break.
I will not stop.
Surrender flesh, seize bone.
This was Aritolte’s way.
Clang! Crash! Screech!
Abriel and the twin blades collided in a frenzy.
Gradually, methodically.
I began to track the rhythm of Akan’s swordplay.
“This bastard…!”
Akan’s composure shattered.
Desperation bled into his frantic strikes.
The punching bag who had been toyed with moments before was now reading his every attack, countering with relentless persistence.
‘An opening.’
I saw it.
In that instant when the twin blades crossed, forming the shape of a blizzard.
The precise moment when Aritolte had once carved through his waist.
I drew upon my reserves of power.
Whoooosh!
The Holy Sword Abriel blazed with dazzling radiance of Kwon Cheonsa.
Though divine power was suppressed by ninety-nine percent, the intrinsic weight and dignity of the holy blade itself remained intact.
I twisted the trajectory, piercing through his defense.
Akan gasped in horror, desperately pulling one of his twin blades to block.
But.
Crack!
A sharp, resonant sound echoed across the Platform.
“…Ah.”
A vacant gasp escaped Akan’s lips.
One of the transparent twin blades he had been gripping.
Crack!
Spiderweb fractures splintered across the cold blade’s surface.
Shatter!
…It shattered into glittering shards like glass, scattering into the void.

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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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