The Mage Who Devours Disasters - Chapter 96

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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 96.
“….”
Yamamoto regarded Park Ji-hoon intently.
On the surface, he appeared no different from a common street thug.
Yet Yamamoto sensed something deeper.
‘The atmosphere is different.’
He bore a fundamentally different presence than the Vice Guild Master who had collapsed moments before.
Killing intent permeated him, yet it did not scatter diffusely—instead, it converged with absolute precision toward the tip of his blade.
Yamamoto spoke.
“Your name?”
Park Ji-hoon shrugged and slowly drew his longsword.
The blade sang as it emerged.
“Park Ji-hoon. Guild Master of the Black Tiger Guild.”
Park Ji-hoon fixed his gaze upon Yamamoto, who wielded the katana.
He had always wondered.
‘Who exactly is this man?’
Why did his older brother, Kim Jung-seok, concern himself so deeply with him?
He had even tasked Satoshi with gathering intelligence and surveillance.
A mere rival? Or perhaps an enemy from the past?
Recalling his brother’s icy gaze, it was certain this was no ordinary connection.
‘If he is an obstacle to my brother, I will eliminate him here and now.’
That was why Park Ji-hoon had stepped forward.
No matter how strong Japan’s mightiest was, he possessed the power of Garcia’s Sword Saint within him.
It was worth attempting.
“Park Ji-hoon, then.”
Yamamoto lowered his katana and smiled with a faint, metallic edge.
Could this be that Park Ji-hoon who had ranked third in the Demon Realm episode?
If so, he had been curious about that strength for some time.
“Excellent. Come at me.”
Before the words had even finished.
The ground erupted beneath Park Ji-hoon’s feet.
He launched forward in a burst of explosive speed.
In an instant, he closed the distance to Yamamoto’s face.
His longsword carved through the air in a sharp, lethal arc.
The fastest, most devastating overhead strike.
Steel rang against steel.
Yamamoto raised his katana effortlessly to intercept.
Sparks ignited between the blades.
Yet.
“…Hmm.”
Yamamoto’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
‘This one knows the blade.’
The Vice Guild Master he’d faced moments ago was a mere novice who didn’t know the first thing about swordsmanship.
Just crude violence fueled by raw stats.
But Park Ji-hoon was different.
He knew how to channel the weight of the blade.
He had instinctively mastered the art of turning an opponent’s strength against them.
Clang! Screech!
Their blades clashed once, twice, three times.
A faint smile spread across Yamamoto’s lips.
He was certain now.
‘Advanced practical swordsmanship.’
A path of the blade forged through countless battlefields, carved in bone and blood—a technique perfected solely for slaughter and survival.
A trajectory unseen even among those called Japan’s greatest swordsmen.
‘So there was an interesting one in Korea.’
Yamamoto exhaled fighting spirit.
He subtly unleashed his true divine power.
The katana’s trajectory accelerated in an instant.
The sound of air being torn filled the club.
Ting! Clang clang clang!
Park Ji-hoon gritted his teeth and blocked it.
The Sword Saint’s soul sent warnings through his mind, yet Yamamoto’s blade was nearly impossible to predict.
Erratic and devastating strikes.
‘Insane… so fast!’
He was barely managing defense.
Yet Park Ji-hoon refused to retreat.
Instead, he pressed forward with a step, seeking Yamamoto’s openings.
A charge that feared no death.
“Truly like a beast.”
Yamamoto stepped back slightly, speaking as if in praise.
Distance opened between them for a moment.
Yamamoto pointed his katana and asked.
“Who taught you?”
“…?”
“That swordsmanship. There’s no way someone in Korea could wield practical technique of this caliber.”
Yamamoto’s eyes gleamed with intensity.
Could it be related to NONAME somehow?
But Park Ji-hoon simply grinned and shrugged.
“Self-taught. Why?”
It was a lie.
It was thanks to Garcia’s Sword Saint’s soul.
But there was no need to mention that.
“Self-taught, is it? How presumptuous.”
Yamamoto’s eyes turned cold and sharp.
“Then, let us continue.”
Blade clashed against blade once more.
But as time wore on, the tide of battle began to shift.
Park Ji-hoon’s breathing grew ragged.
Cuts appeared across his body, blood trickling down.
Yamamoto assessed the situation with clinical precision.
‘Insufficient.’
His swordsmanship was extraordinarily refined.
But.
‘His combat experience is woefully lacking.’
He wielded the techniques with only a hollow understanding of their essence.
As if he had never faced a true master capable of properly receiving his strikes, his ability to adapt to variables was severely deficient.
“That is enough.”
Yamamoto swung his katana horizontally.
The blade sang through the air.
“Guh…!”
Park Ji-hoon’s longsword flew from his grasp.
In the same instant, Yamamoto’s kick drove into Park Ji-hoon’s abdomen.
The impact was devastating.
Park Ji-hoon was sent flying backward, his body tumbling across the ground.
He collapsed, coughing blood.
Defeat.
A clear disparity in power.
Yamamoto looked down at the fallen Park Ji-hoon.
“Come to Japan.”
His voice was resolute.
“You cannot properly hone your skills in this land.”
A recruitment offer.
An invitation to join him and learn the true nature of combat.
But.
Park Ji-hoon spat blood-tinged saliva onto the ground.
He staggered to his feet.
“You’re talking nonsense.”
He wiped the blood from his lips with his sleeve, his gaze fixed on Yamamoto.
“Next time, I will be the one who wins.”
“Next time, I’ll win.”
With those parting words, Park Ji-hoon seized his longsword and departed the club without so much as a backward glance.
The Black Tiger Guild members streamed out in his wake.
Silence descended upon the club.
Heo Young-ho crumpled his face and exhaled a sigh.
“That insolent bastard! Yamamoto, please forgive his rudeness. I shall deal with him at once….”
Those around him echoed his sentiments, disparaging Park Ji-hoon.
But.
“…Heh.”
Yamamoto let out a soft chuckle.
He sheathed his katana and murmured as if to himself.
“It seems Korea is not entirely devoid of quality specimens.”
The smile of a predator who had discovered fascinating prey.
His gaze turned toward the Seoul skyline beyond the window.
‘NONAME.’
Avatar of the Irresistible Force.
There must be a reason you have taken root in this land.
I must uncover that reason.
And I will find you without fail.
There was no urgency.
When the next episode begins, you will reveal yourself regardless.
In this foreign land of Korea, he would face the sixth episode.
‘Soon, the great calamity will commence.’
The contents of the next episode were predetermined after all.
* * *
At that same moment.
“….”
I lifted my head in a daze.
In the backyard of the Golden Temple, a colossal pillar rose from the very center of the earth.
No—it was not a pillar, but a tree.
The World Tree.
“Why is it growing so rapidly?”
A hollow laugh escaped me unbidden.
Not long ago, it had been nothing more than a sapling barely my height.
Yet now it towered before me, grown to the size of a modest building.
Its branches and leaves spread luxuriantly, threatening to blot out the sky itself.
Was the World Tree truly a plant that grew at such a pace?
Heimdall had warned me that even sprouting was a miracle, yet this was growing like common weeds.
“Great One!”
One of the Priestesses bustling about beneath the World Tree came scurrying toward me.
A young Elf Priestess with silver hair.
“You’ve arrived!”
The girl’s face was brimming with vitality.
The desperate despair that had consumed her while awaiting death had vanished without a trace.
“You’ve worked hard.”
I spoke flatly, gesturing toward the World Tree with a tilt of my chin.
“What’s the secret? She shouldn’t grow this fast just from consuming Nectar alone.”
The girl answered with a bashful smile at my question.
“We’ve been speaking only kind words to her every day!”
“…Kind words?”
“Yes! Things like ‘grow beautifully,’ ‘shoot up tall,’ ‘we love you’… that sort of thing.”
The girl puffed out her chest proudly.
“The more divine an object is, the more it responds to spiritual energy, doesn’t it? I believe our sincerity and prayers have reached her!”
I was at a loss for words.
Was this really it?
That elementary school science experiment—’praised onion, criticized onion.’
Could the World Tree, imbued with the providence of the Deities, actually respond to such a childish placebo effect?
‘Well, it might actually be real.’
These creatures are Priestesses who have eaten the leaves of the World Tree since birth.
They might inherently possess some special wavelength that resonates with the World Tree’s essence.
In any case, there was no harm in it.
Thanks to the World Tree’s explosive growth, the environment on Floor 55 was visibly transforming.
Ding!
[The World Tree’s blessing settles upon the territory.]
[The earth becomes fertile and fills with the essence of life.]
[The growth speed and maximum potential of all living creatures within the territory increase by 20%.]
[The reproductive capacity of the ecosystem rises.]
The System Message proved it.
A 20% increase in growth speed was already tremendous, but the maximum potential also increased by 20%.
This meant the Frost Tribe Elves and the Barbarian Four Brothers could grow faster and stronger.
And even increased reproductive capacity?
It meant the monsters I’d purchased from the shop could breed among themselves and increase their numbers.
‘A spell where military forces grow without lifting a finger.’
The World Tree was indeed an absolute symbol specialized in overall abundance and growth.
I could now understand why Heimdall treasured it so dearly, and why the other Deities were so desperate to obtain the World Tree.
That was when it happened.
“Master.”
Footsteps sounded from behind me.
It was Seria.
Her expression was as cold as always, but her eyes held a peculiar tension.
“What is it?”
“A visitor has arrived, Master.”
Seria reported.
“A pilgrimage delegation from the Orga Kingdom has arrived. The king himself wishes to meet with you to present an offering.”
I furrowed my brow.
“A kingdom?”
I was perplexed.
“There’s a kingdom in Asgard?”
At my question, Seria tilted her head as if finding it strange.
Her expression seemed to say, “Why would you ask something so obvious?”
“Of course, Master.”
Seria explained calmly.
“Asgard is not inhabited solely by the Deities. Countless races of mortals exist here, and they have established vast nations and alliances.”
I had no idea.
I had assumed the Asgard Mainland outside the Tower was inhabited only by wild beasts and small indigenous tribes scattered like the Frost Tribe.
“The Orga Kingdom is a coalition nation of humans and sub-races that holds a fairly solid position among them.”
Seria added.
“Though it is merely a minor power when viewed against all of Asgard, it possesses its own civilization and military strength.”
“So why did they come looking for me?”
“Likely….”
Seria’s eyes grew serious.
“They wish to ask you to become their Guardian Deity.”
A Guardian Deity.
A god who protects a nation.
Nations existing in Asgard are constantly exposed to relentless assaults from wild beasts and the capricious whims of rival divine factions.
To survive, they need powerful backing.
Thus they enshrine a mighty god as their Guardian Deity, periodically offering sacrifices and faith while beseeching protection.
“Will you meet with them?”
Seria asked carefully.
I stroked my chin thoughtfully.
I was curious—quite curious, actually.
That a “nation” system could exist on this mad Continent of Asgard.
How they survived, what civilization they had built.
“Very well.”
I nodded.
“I shall permit them to ascend the Tower.”

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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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