The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 76

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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 76.
Reinhardt.
He possessed an appearance fundamentally alien to ordinary Deities.
His features were refined and elegant, yet half his face and neck were covered in pitch-black scales.
The aura emanating from that draconic flesh was utterly overwhelming.
Whoosh.
With each breath he exhaled, the very atmosphere within the 55th Floor Golden Temple rippled as though dominated by a true dragon’s respiration.
‘A Deity who ascended the Tower entirely alone.’
Moreover, he was no one’s Apostle Deity.
He received no patronage from Supreme Tier Deities like Heimdall or Skadi—a rare breed who climbed to that elevated station through sheer solitary will.
Thus his magnificence bore no comparison to other elevated Apostle Deities, those hothouse flowers nurtured in sheltered gardens.
Yet this very being had deigned to descend to Floor 55, the domain of lesser Deities, abandoning all pretense of dignity.
However.
‘…The Heavenly Assembly.’
A name I had never heard before.
Assembly—a term denoting collective organization or faction.
I leaned back against the chair and let out a soft chuckle.
“You seem to have come to the wrong place.”
I gestured dismissively at the empty air with a tilt of my chin.
“I am already an Apostle Deity of Heimdall. For an Apostle Deity to join another private organization without permission would be absurd.”
If word reached Heimdall’s ears, my head might well be forfeit.
Yet Reinhardt showed no sign of agitation.
Rather, his serpentine, split pupils gleamed with intrigue.
“Do not worry.”
He rumbled low.
“The Heavenly Assembly is not a faction of Deities. It is a collective of Avatars.”
What?
A collective of Avatars?
“The Twelve Chief Deities and countless other powerhouses of the Tower have begun their amusements on World 400, Earth.”
Reinhardt’s fist clenched tight.
“Do you comprehend what this signifies? It means a supreme treasure lies dormant there—one even the Twelve Chief Deities covet.”
His scale-covered neck writhed.
“Can this still be called amusement? This is war.”
War.
I concur.
That is precisely what I believe as well.
“So you propose we join forces?”
“Precisely. Before such a colossal variable, we must unite to survive and seize what we seek.”
I narrowed my brow.
“Anonymity is fundamental to Avatars. Yet you propose forming an organized collective? If discovered, the consequences would be dire.”
A single whistleblower could spark a massacre.
That would be advantageous for me, but conversely, it could become poison.
“Do not concern yourself with that either.”
Reinhardt withdrew a small, pitch-black mana stone from his breast pocket and placed it on the table.
“I’m not asking you to reveal the avatar’s identity directly. It operates as a strictly compartmentalized cell structure. Information exchange occurs in virtual space, and we unite our strength only temporarily when facing catastrophic trials. That is the primary objective.”
He fixed me with an unwavering gaze.
“Currently, several Upper Tier Deities and quite a few renowned Supreme Tier Deities have joined our Heavenly Assembly.”
I let out a scoff.
“You’re inviting someone as insignificant as a Lower Tier Deity like myself into such an illustrious organization?”
“That’s precisely why you are the last.”
Indeed.
‘Not a bad proposition.’
I began calculating the advantages in my mind.
What benefit could this bring me?
How would anonymity be guaranteed?
“How is anonymity maintained? One could be identified by voice alone or mana fluctuations.”
“We assign each member a number.”
Reinhardt pointed to the mana stone on the table.
“Upon entering the virtual conference space, all forms and voices are modulated. We address each other only by number. Should you join, your assigned number would be ’33’.”
Number 33.
“Since you possess the lowest rank in this assembly, I came to you last and you receive the final number.”
It was blatant disrespect, yet not entirely inaccurate.
I rested my chin on my hand and studied Reinhardt.
“Then, what is your number?”
“I am ’10’.”
…Number 10.
For a moment, I nearly burst into silent laughter.
Reinhardt.
This mad monster, the dragon slayer who was humanity’s nightmare, assigned merely number 10?
Then what manner of terrifying abominations must numbers 1 through 9 be?
Supreme Tier Deities—perhaps even avatars of the Twelve Sovereigns were mixed among them.
‘This is far larger than I anticipated.’
This organization’s scale appeared far from insignificant.
Rather, it was quite possibly one of the most formidable avatar collectives within the Tower.
A secret society anchored by Upper Tier and Supreme Tier Deities.
That they sought me out as the final member suggested they valued my potential and promise far more highly than I’d realized.
‘There’s no reason to refuse.’
At minimum, I could reliably monitor their movements.
Information.
If I could anticipate the episodes to come and divine the machinations of the Deities beforehand, no weapon could prove more invaluable.
I picked up the magic stone.
“Good. I’ll do it.”
At my answer, a satisfied smile spread across Reinhardt’s lips.
“An excellent choice.”
He rose from his seat.
“Soon you’ll receive a summons through that magic stone. Once you respond to the signal and channel your mana into it, you’ll be able to enter the Virtual Conference space safely.”
The explanation was complete.
He turned his body toward the door.
“Is that all you came for?”
At my question, Reinhardt hesitated.
Then he turned back to face me.
Instead of those cold, oppressive eyes he usually bore, a subtle hint of hesitation flickered across his gaze.
“…There is one favor I must ask.”
A favor?
A superior Deity asking a favor of an inferior one.
“What is it?”
“Just once… could you show me Angargon?”
Ah.
I had momentarily forgotten.
That this man’s epithet was the ‘Dragon Emperor’.
One who carried dragon blood and possessed one of Asgard’s mightiest dragon legions.
He was renowned as a notorious ‘dragon enthusiast’ and obsessive collector.
How his heart must have burned when he heard the rumor that a calamitous dragon—one of the primordial catastrophes—had been summoned on the First Floor.
He must have been desperate to see it with his own eyes.
I chuckled softly and snapped my fingers.
“Come forth, Angargon.”
Flap. Flap-flap.
The heavy sound of wingbeats echoed from within the secret chamber.
Angargon, who had undergone explosive growth in its ‘infancy’ by devouring the World Tree’s mana, sauntered out leisurely.
A frame no larger than a medium-sized dog.
Scales black as the void itself, and an aura of savage calamity radiating outward.
Grrrrr….
Angargon let out a wary growl upon seeing Reinhardt, this unfamiliar intruder.
And then.
“…Ah, ahhh.”
What? Why is he like that?
Reinhardt’s reaction was extraordinary.
The stiff, oppressive demeanor of the Dragon Emperor from moments before had vanished without a trace.
His eyes trembled violently, uncontrollably.
He drew in a sharp breath, his hands quivering intensely.
Like a fanatic who had finally encountered the ultimate secret scripture they’d sought their entire life.
“Beautiful….”
He murmured in a voice intoxicated with rapture.
“What a perfect and ferocious creature. The primordial essence breathes within it, wholly alive…!”
He unconsciously took a step toward Angargon.
Roaarrr!
But when Angargon bared its fangs and growled, Reinhardt jumped back in alarm.
“Whoa, whoa. Calm down. Calm down.”
I stroked Angargon’s head to soothe it.
Reinhardt remained entranced, desperately trying to commit every scale of Angargon to memory.
“…I envy you.”
Reinhardt released a sincere sigh.
He stood rooted to the spot for a long moment, then cleared his throat and turned to face me.
“Rag.”
His eyes gleamed red with greed.
“Sell it to me.”
A blunt proposal.
“I’ll give you five million Nectar.”
A substantial sum.
But I scoffed.
“Refused.”
Not a moment’s hesitation.
“This one isn’t for sale.”
At my answer, Reinhardt’s brow furrowed.
His disappointment was unmistakable.
Once more, he fixed Angargon with a gaze brimming with affection—or rather, sickeningly sticky desire.
“Haah….”
A deep sigh.
‘What is this guy.’
He’d transcended mere dragon enthusiast.
It was an obsession bordering on perverse madness.
“Are you absolutely certain?”
Reinhardt clung to hope, unwilling to let go.
“If you change your mind later, please tell me at once.”
His voice trembled with longing.
“If you wish, I’ll exchange it for ten mature dragons—the rarest specimens from my Legion—right this instant.”
Ten mature dragons.
That alone was enough to lay waste to an entire Floor of the Tower.
But compared to Angargon’s potential, it didn’t even come close.
“Not interested.”
I spoke bluntly.
“Leave. You’re scaring the child.”
At my words, Reinhardt bit his lip hard.
“…Understood. I’m going.”
He turned his body.
But his gaze remained fixed on Angargon until the very end, backing away toward the door.
Even in the final crack as the door closed, his bloodshot eyes clung to Angargon with a sticky, licking intensity.
Slam.
The door shut.
Kyaang….
Angargon trembled at that obsessive fixation, burrowing between my legs.
As if he’d witnessed something distasteful, he curled his tail into a circle and pressed himself snugly against my thigh.
Pat, pat.
I stroked his carapace while clicking my tongue.
Uuung.
Soon after, I felt a wave of spatial distortion from beyond the Secret Chamber.
Reinhardt had completely vanished through the gate.
“There really are all kinds of strange people.”
I was dumbfounded.
But I quickly set aside idle thoughts.
I picked up the pitch-black magic stone resting on the desk.
‘The Heavenly Assembly, then.’
A virtual conference device that Reinhardt had left behind.
A secret organization like this.
Likely, besides the Heavenly Assembly, similar avatar groups would spring up like mushrooms across Earth.
‘Yamamoto.’
Even the divine fragments of such a Chief Deity—like the War Deity’s avatar—would likely be included in such gatherings while concealing their true identities.
Moreover.
‘Aritolte.’
Aritolte and the other strongest members of the Fellowship I hadn’t yet confirmed.
Through this underworld network, I could gain an opportunity to learn more information about their true identities and movements.
‘Besides.’
From my perspective, I didn’t think any group with greater scale and power than the Heavenly Assembly would be seeking me out.
A gathering centered around Upper Tier Deities and Supreme Tier Deities.
Simply by stepping into this circle, I would become the most reliable eyes and ears to read Earth’s shifting geopolitical landscape.
However.
‘This is troubling.’
As I turned the magic stone over in my hands, something weighed on my mind.
Whether to inform Heimdall of this fact or not.
I am the Apostle Deity of Heimdall.
He occupied the 55th Floor under his patronage.
By protocol, joining a private Divine Faction should be reported to one’s liege.
But.
‘There’s no need to report every trivial matter concerning my avatar.’
A line had to be drawn.
In Asgard, my identity is ‘Rag’, but on Earth, my identity is ‘Kim Jung-seok (NONAME)’.
If I revealed my Heavenly Assembly membership to Heimdall, he might become excessively curious about my avatar.
In the worst case, he might pressure me to divulge my avatar’s personal information.
‘I’ll keep it secret.’
I shoved the magic stone deep into my inventory.
I need only show Heimdall my face as the Apostle Deity of the 55th Floor.
My hunting on Earth belongs to me alone.
* * *
Heimdall gazed up at the empty sky, his lips curling into a smile.
‘A game.’
The formal declaration of the Twelve Chief Deities’ intervention.
With World 400, Earth, elevated to Grade A, all eyes within the Tower were now fixed upon it.
‘War begins.’
True gods donning mortal shells descending to tear at each other’s throats across a narrow strip of land—a chaotic spectacle.
“I cannot fall behind.”
Fierce determination blazed in Heimdall’s eyes.
Yet he harbored no intention of gathering a faction or conspiring with other deities.
‘I walk with no one.’
He was the master of all things.
As always, he would climb the Tower alone.
To the very end, without aid from anyone, he would ascend to that distant summit.
To that absolute position where none stood above him.
Whoosh.
Heimdall settled deep into his throne.
He closed his eyes.
Calming his consciousness, he began extending his divine power from his true form down into the Lower Realm.
His lips moved faintly.
“Log in.”
Then.
Ding!
[The Storm Deity, Heimdall, has logged into World 400, ‘Earth’.]
[Loading saved ‘avatar’ data.]
[Data synchronization complete.]
[Logging in as avatar ‘Aritolte’.]

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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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