The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 74

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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 74.
Heimdall had been anticipating this.
His Apostle Deity.
A monster who had shattered convention and climbed higher—Rag.
He found himself genuinely curious what absurd and extraordinary reason would bring this one to seek him out this time.
That remained true until the World Tree was mentioned.
‘How will he shatter my expectations this time?’
But the actual reason he had come was.
-To save the Priestess.
…Truly, it was utterly contemptible.
The one who had distinguished himself in the Divine Banquet and monopolized the attention of the Supreme Tier Deities.
Rag, whom I had believed without doubt would grow endlessly stronger and shake this tedious Tower like lightning itself.
Had come begging for the life of a mere mortal?
“….”
Heimdall’s gaze froze with cold intensity.
Compassion.
It was a luxury for a deity—the worst virtue one should never possess.
A deity is one who rules and dominates from a position above all others.
A deity who pours emotion into the life and death of each mortal ant and becomes deeply involved would never meet a good end.
Inevitably, they would grow weak or collapse under their own weight.
Or was this greed—wanting to keep those pretty Priestesses alive forever and use them as personal playthings?
‘That too is foolish.’
And besides, he was merely a lesser deity.
At a time when he should be fighting desperately for even a single drop of Nectar.
No matter how much Rag was his favored Apostle Deity, if he was drowning in such childish sentimentality, his end was already painfully obvious.
‘So it was not as I thought.’
Heimdall exhaled a short sigh.
Was it my mistake?
Did my eyes deceive me, leading me to regard this merely fortunate and ostentatious empty vessel as a remarkable talent?
Disappointment settled heavily upon his throne.
He waved his hand dismissively.
He closed his eyes as though there was nothing more worth hearing.
But then.
“It is contemptible, my lord.”
Rag did not retreat.
Rather, the flat words that tumbled from his lips struck Heimdall’s ears.
“Contemptible?”
“Yes. Contemptible. The act of burning those Priestesses to extract a few drops of Nectar.”
Rag brushed his chin and met Heimdall’s gaze directly.
“To me, it is far too trivial and contemptible an act.”
“….”
Heimdall’s closed eyes slowly opened.
“I’ve heard those children have consumed nothing but World Tree leaves since birth.”
Rag’s gaze held no trace of pity or compassion.
It was the calculating, razor-sharp look of someone appraising merchandise on display.
“A body so utterly pure and untainted—in other words, a blank canvas capable of perfectly absorbing and accepting any essence whatsoever, wouldn’t you say?”
“And?”
Heimdall leaned forward slightly.
Rag twisted his lips into a smile.
“It would be a terrible waste to use such premium materials as mere kindling.”
His voice dripped with profound arrogance.
“I intend to cultivate them as my soldiers.”
“…soldiers?”
“Yes. I plan to forge the Priestesses into weapons—an absolute private army to sweep across battlefields in my stead.”
Silence fell.
Heimdall’s pupils trembled.
Cultivating Priestesses as weapons?
It was an idea never before attempted.
No Deity in all of Asgard had ever even dared to try such a thing.
The reason was simple.
‘The efficiency doesn’t justify it.’
The time and capital required to feed, clothe, and train Priestesses into soldiers.
It was far more profitable to simply burn them in purifying flames and extract high-purity Nectar—a hundred times, a thousand times more advantageous.
With such vast quantities of Nectar, the standard approach was to recruit more ferocious and powerful demons from the Crystal Shop, or elevate one’s own divine rank.
Beyond that.
Teaching and raising them was difficult.
How could Priestesses, who had grown like flowers their entire lives, ever properly wield a single weapon?
Even if possible, was there anyone capable of instructing them?
It was time-consuming, labor-intensive work.
But.
‘….’
A faint twitch appeared at the corner of Heimdall’s rigid mouth.
A path ordinary Deities would never take.
In this tedious Tower that pursued only efficiency, a reversal of logic that no one had conceived.
‘How intriguing.’
Interest that had been fading began to reignite.
What if those pure, blank-canvas Priestesses were truly cultivated as weapons by the hands of this monster called Rag?
Perhaps a terrifying variable would be born—something incomparable to the mundane legions of demons produced by Nectar.
“Hmm.”
Heimdall rested his chin on his hand and gazed down at Rag.
“Not out of pity, then—merely as a tool to sharpen your own strength.”
“Precisely.”
Rag shrugged his shoulders.
“Did you think I came here drowning in cheap sentiment?”
A flawless response.
Laughter spilled from deep within Heimdall’s chest.
“Kha ha ha!”
Truly, he is my Apostle Deity.
My own disappointment seemed absurd now—once again, he had gleefully trampled upon my expectations.
“Excellent.”
Heimdall rose from his seat.
His colossal frame radiated an oppressive presence that seemed to blanket the Mountain Range itself.
“Since the notion amuses me, I shall lend you my support.”
Yet his voice soon turned grave.
“But heed this, Rag.”
“Yes.”
“Obtaining the World Tree and blooming it within your Territory will not be a simple task.”
Heimdall’s gaze pierced through Rag’s eyes.
“In all of the Tower’s history, there has never been a single instance of a lesser deity blooming the World Tree.”
It was a miracle equivalent to the creation of life itself.
Beyond the staggering expenditure of divine power, the World Tree’s sprout could consume the very soul of its master—a perilously dangerous ritual.
“Should you fail, the World Tree’s sprout will devour your divinity.”
Heimdall warned him.
“Literally, you may wither and perish.”
“….”
“Will you still attempt it?”
A threat of death.
Yet Rag did not hesitate.
“I will attempt it.”
Rag nodded his head.
“For failure does not exist in my lexicon.”
Arrogance without equal.
“Follow me, then.”
Heimdall clicked his tongue with satisfaction, observing that insolent face.
* * *
Truthfully, I was quite tense.
As I followed Heimdall deep into the Territory of Layer 387, a chill ran down my spine.
‘The scale here is truly different.’
Even the entrance was absurd.
Named-rank monsters—creatures that could devour ordinary lesser deities whole—lay scattered everywhere.
Tens of millions—hundreds of millions of roaring monsters formed a perfect ecosystem.
The overwhelming scale was grand enough to be called an entire empire unto itself.
The further I advanced following Heimdall, the more spectacular the vista became.
‘Even the Upper Realm Deities never commanded anything like this.’
Before my regression, I had bled alongside the Fellowship to conquer the territories of the Upper Realm Deities.
Back then, we had prided ourselves on achieving considerable Achievements.
But now, witnessing Heimdall’s Layer with my own eyes, those Upper Realm territories seemed nothing more than dirt beneath the fingernails of some remote provincial backwater.
‘So this is the majesty of a Supreme Tier Deity.’
It was not Heimdall alone.
The territories of other Supreme Tier Deities like Aigis and Skadi would be comparable or no different.
If that were the case, conquering them by force would be—
‘Practically impossible.’
A direct assault would be suicide.
No matter how much divine authority I layered upon myself or how tightly I gripped Abriel, there was no way I could pierce through this infinite legion of demons and the Supreme Tier Deity’s true form alone.
And yet.
I couldn’t even fathom how formidable the Layers of the Twelve Chief Deities, who reigned above even these Supreme Tier Deities, must be.
“We’ve arrived.”
After cutting through the fierce winds in flight.
Heimdall came to a halt before a colossal pillar that pierced through the clouds.
No—it was not a pillar.
“This is….”
I gazed upward in stunned silence.
Vast leaves that blanketed the entire sky, and an immeasurable thickness of trunk rooted deep into the earth.
The World Tree.
“All the World Trees rooted in this Asgard are connected to an invisible source.”
Heimdall spoke matter-of-factly as he caressed the World Tree.
“The land where the World Tree rises becomes infinitely fertile, and it strengthens the master’s divine power itself.”
His words rang true.
Simply standing near the tree, the concentration of mana drifting through the air was suffocatingly dense.
“Beyond that, it bestows countless blessings upon the entire territory. You might call it an absolute symbol of power.”
Heimdall chuckled.
“However, not just anyone can possess this World Tree.”
Crack!
Heimdall extended his hand and brutally snapped off one of the World Tree’s thick branches.
In that instant.
“…!”
I gasped sharply.
From the severed surface of the branch, an unimaginable torrent of vile demonic energy began pouring forth like a waterfall.
The nauseating stench of blood and the reek of despair.
“The World Tree is commonly known as a pure and sacred tree of life.”
Heimdall approached me, clutching the branch he had snapped off.
“The truth is the complete opposite.”
His eyes grew cold and sharp.
“This tree is essentially a collective amalgamation of demonic energy and resentment.”
“Resentment…you say?”
“The World Tree grows by consuming fragments and refuse from destroyed worlds as its nourishment.”
It felt as though I had been struck on the head.
The remnants of destroyed worlds.
The resentment, despair, rage, and sorrow of countless mortals who perished there.
The World Tree was a colossal purification system and garbage heap—absorbing all those terrible emotions and demonic energy through its roots, then converting them into sustenance for Asgard.
“Only by enduring and bearing the full weight of countless worlds’ resentment, their primal essence, and all that terrible demonic energy can you earn the right to cultivate this World Tree in your territory.”
Heimdall thrust the branch toward me abruptly.
“Well? Can you bear it?”
His voice was testing me.
“If you can bear it, take it.”
I swallowed hard.
The dark demonic energy rippling before my eyes was far more concentrated and vicious than anything I had ever felt from the Demon Realm or the Mad Deity.
But I could not retreat.
To save the Priestesses and maximize my territory’s combat strength, I needed this branch without fail.
I slowly reached out my hand.
I grasped the branch of the World Tree.
“…Ugh!”
A sharp, searing pain.
Horrifying agony.
Tremendous demonic energy surged backward through my entire body.
Blood vessels darkened visibly, and my brain seemed to scream.
Ding! Ding!
[Warning! Exposure to fatal resentment detected.]
[Debuff ‘World’s Resentment’ has been applied.]
[Debuff ‘Demonic Erosion’ has been applied.]
[The World Tree’s Branch is consuming your divine power!]
My status window flooded with red warnings.
From merely grasping a single branch, I felt my magical and divine power draining away like melting snow.
“Heh heh.”
Heimdall watched my condition and grinned wickedly.
“Now is your only chance to surrender, Rag.”
He added casually, hands clasped behind his back.
“If you’re careless, this branch will drain every ounce of vitality from your carefully cultivated 55th Floor and reduce it to ash.”
I clenched my teeth and shook my head firmly.
“I will take it.”
I’m not the type to cower before some mere debuff and surrender.
Heimdall clicked his tongue, yet his eyes gleamed with unmistakable approval.
“Very well. Give it a try. If you truly cannot manage it, simply incinerate the branch with Kwon Cheonsa’s holy sword you possess.”
Though naturally, the branch would become worthless in the process.
At least it would prevent the tragedy of my divine power being completely drained or the entire Floor being obliterated.
Uncharacteristically for Heimdall, he had even provided me with a contingency plan.
“…Yes. Thank you for the guidance.”
I offered him a brief bow of respect.
Then I hastily returned to Floor 55.
* * *
Floor 55, the Golden Temple’s Secret Chamber.
“Haa, haa…”
I exhaled ragged breaths, sweat pouring down my face.
The branch of the World Tree, resting upon the table.
The malevolent aura emanating from that single small branch had stained the cramped chamber pitch black.
‘How in the world do I purify this insane miasma?’
I felt utterly at a loss.
Merely possessing it was already gnawing away at my divine power to such an extent.
If I planted this in the heart of my Territory, just as Heimdall had warned, the entire Floor 55 would surely wither, corrupted by resentment.
I couldn’t even burn it away with the holy sword.
The very life force embedded in the branch would be consumed, reducing it to charcoal.
And if that happened, awakening the World Tree would become impossible.
This was truly a predicament.
‘No wonder even high-tier Deities dare not handle this carelessly.’
I was trapped between two impossible choices.
No solution presented itself.
Then it happened.
Kyaaaang.
An eerie cry echoed from behind me.
I turned to find Angargon, the Dragon of Great Calamity, standing there.
The creature, now grown to the size of a small dog, had apparently pushed open the chamber door and scurried inside.
But something was distinctly wrong with its state.
“…You.”
Angargon’s eyes were fixed entirely upon the World Tree branch atop the table.
Through the gaps of its blackened snout,
Drip, drip, drip.
Saliva dripped relentlessly, soaking the marble floor beneath it.
Like a starving stray dog facing a feast fit for kings, the creature’s tail spun wildly like a propeller.
‘…Could it be?’
A thought flickered across my mind.
“Want to eat?”
Kyaang!
An affirmative response.
I casually picked up a branch of the World Tree from the table and offered it toward Angargon.
Then.
Whoooosh!
Angargon’s mouth snapped wide open.
Immediately after, it inhaled the surrounding air like a vacuum cleaner.
At the same time.
Kwaaaaa!
The horrific clusters of demonic energy and resentment erupting from the branch
…unraveled like a ball of thread, flowing smoothly and being sucked into Angargon’s throat like a black hole.

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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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