Chapter 65
The Mausoleum of Moonshadow (7)
“Let us make a deal. What will you give me in return?”
As Mapheltan smiled coldly, a dark shadow descended across the dark elf’s face.
His already-black visage became enveloped in impenetrable darkness.
Hostility and murderous intent erupted from his entire body.
The dark elf muttered in a low voice,
“…You are insolent.”
Black light suddenly began condensing in his hand.
This is dangerous.
Mapheltan, who had been lying on the ground, quickly pushed himself upright.
He immediately put some distance between himself and the dark elf.
At the same moment, a black beam shot from the dark elf’s hand.
The pitch-black trajectory scraped across the ground before surging toward Mapheltan’s horn.
Mapheltan twisted his head aside. A sharp whistle sliced past his ear, and scorching heat brushed his cheek.
He had barely evaded it.
The gouged ground was charred black.
He nearly severed my horn.
Mapheltan was deeply shaken, but he did not show it.
Maintaining a relaxed expression, he spoke.
“If I die, you stand to lose quite a lot. Must I really explain each consequence to you?”
For one thing, Raguel would die.
The only elf remaining in this world would disappear.
Furthermore, the dark elf would never learn the details of the contract between the World Tree and the witch.
No rational, intelligent being could kill Mapheltan under such circumstances.
The dark elf silently stared at him, presumably considering how he should deal with Mapheltan.
It was pointless deliberation.
The best course of action had already been decided.
The dark elf opened his mouth.
“I suppose I will have to play along with your foolish game.”
Mapheltan smirked.
“I knew you were capable of understanding reason.”
“What do you want from me?”
The dark elf would also have to pay Mapheltan something of equivalent value.
Mapheltan pretended to consider it before answering.
“Very well. For the sake of maintaining an amicable relationship between us, I’ll tell you this much for free.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying I’ll tell you without demanding payment. In return, I hope this will ease some of your resentment toward me.”
The dark elf inevitably harbored a grudge against Mapheltan.
After all, because of Mapheltan, they had lost the seed they had protected for five hundred years.
“Impossible.”
Mapheltan shrugged.
“I suppose it would be.”
“Tell me the terms of the contract.”
Mapheltan nodded.
“The destruction of the mausoleum. That is what the witch promised the World Tree.”
The dark elf’s eyes narrowed.
“…What?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. The World Tree wants this graveyard to disappear completely—even if she must become the witch’s familiar to accomplish it.”
The World Tree was utterly exhausted. She wanted to bring an end to five hundred years of suffering and futile hope.
She no longer wished to hear the cries of her children.
It would be better for them all to enter eternal rest together.
After granting her children their final rest, the World Tree intended to close her own eyes once her contract with the witch ended.
The dark elf’s eyes trembled.
“…Why would Mother…”
“She realized the futility of life. In truth, don’t you understand how she feels?”
A demon could ordinarily continue living through its hatred of humanity alone.
The demons imprisoned within the Abyss, however, were slightly different.
They wished to rise again.
They longed to reclaim their former glory.
For the elves, that was impossible.
They did not possess the power to germinate the World Tree’s seed.
The World Tree and all the elves knew that fact well, and their will had steadily weakened as the years passed.
By now, hatred for humanity was practically all they had left.
Yet the emptiness left behind by their lost ideals was far too vast for them to survive on anger alone.
That suffocating void was bound to overwhelm them from time to time.
The dark elf had lived with that same feeling every moment of his existence.
He closed his eyes. Once their jade glow vanished, he resembled nothing more than a black silhouette.
Silence descended.
After remaining deep in thought for a long while, the dark elf opened his eyes again.
“So this place truly was our grave.”
The Mausoleum of Moonshadow.
Just as its name suggested, the First Domain of the Abyss was a graveyard for the elves.
“My opinion is slightly different,” Mapheltan said. “Is there any reason you must allow yourselves to be buried here?”
“Mother desires an end. We cannot defy her wishes.”
“That isn’t what I mean. Even if you intend to die, you should at least choose where you will be buried.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Leave the mausoleum. Take revenge on the humans who reduced you to this state, and then die.”
The dark elf scoffed.
“Mother has relinquished everything. If even she has abandoned her hatred, we have no reason to act.”
More than his desire for revenge against humanity, the dark elf was being consumed by a stifling sense of futility.
His lethargy was worsening by the moment.
“I will give you a reason,” Mapheltan said. “If you attack a certain location for me, I will ensure that your dearest wish is fulfilled.”
“Our dearest wish?”
Mapheltan’s expression darkened.
“Margiel. I will bring down the Moon. And I will bury both his body and soul in the same grave as all of you.”
He intended to trample the greatest divine throne in the world?
It was an absurd claim, yet the dark elf somehow found it difficult to laugh it off.
Mapheltan’s demeanor was far too serious.
“…You are an amusing creature.”
“Does it sound like an empty boast or a joke?”
“It certainly does.”
Demonic energy slowly crawled from Mapheltan’s entire body.
He spoke in an ominous voice.
“The Thirteenth Apostle of the End will, without fail, honor his contract with the dark elves.”
At that moment, his low voice began transforming into the ancient language of demons.
『The Thirteenth Apostle of the End will, without fail, honor his contract with the dark elves.
(Vel’thaz un’kareth Draz’thul wen’kora Nyth’el n’zarak vol tharyn.)』
It was a Word of Power engraved upon his own being.
When he used a Word of Power in this manner, the will he had imprinted upon himself tended to exert an even stronger influence.
The dark elf was visibly shaken.
“…What are you?”
Mapheltan answered expressionlessly.
“Come to think of it, I never introduced myself. I am Mapheltan, the Thirteenth End—the Seat of Deception and Chaos.”
The dark elf was overcome by a profound sense of incongruity.
Although the horned fiend before him had possessed a peculiar aura, he was ultimately no more than a juvenile demon.
He did not seem to possess any particularly elevated status, nor did he radiate the overwhelming presence of the other Apostles.
A young demon with a strangely enigmatic air—that had been the dark elf’s assessment of Mapheltan.
Yet Mapheltan had used a Word of Power.
It was definitive proof that he was an Apostle.
Words of Power were an authority granted only to Apostles and gods.
If he could use them, then he was unquestionably an Apostle.
The dark elf’s pupils trembled faintly.
“I do not know how I am supposed to accept this.”
Only twelve Apostles were supposed to exist in the first place.
Yet Mapheltan claimed to be the thirteenth.
Faced with a violation of what should have been an inviolable law, the dark elf’s mind struggled to process it.
“Interpret it however you wish,” Mapheltan said with a shrug. “My identity is irrelevant to the conversation we are having now.”
After contemplating the matter for some time, the dark elf spoke.
“I cannot acknowledge you.”
“That is of no concern to me. I merely wish to offer you a deal.”
“…The deal in which you claim you will bring down the Moon?”
“To be precise, you will have to attack a specific location of my choosing.”
“And where would that be?”
“The royal capital.”
He planned to strike directly at the heart of the kingdom and divert some of the attention currently concentrated upon the south.
The dark elf let out a hollow laugh.
“I do not know how formidable the royal capital is in this age, but if my assumptions are correct, you are asking us to walk willingly into our deaths.”
“Precisely. Rampage through the city, and then die together.”
“Were you not planning to let yourselves be buried alive in this mausoleum anyway? If you’re going to die regardless, you might as well taste some blood before you go. You’ll fulfill your dearest wish in the process.”
The dark elf was rendered somewhat speechless by Mapheltan’s shameless proposal.
“What in the world are you…?”
“If that is not enough, I will make one more promise. The restoration of elven civilization. One day, your brethren will walk the surface again. Those are the full terms of my offer.”
“That will be difficult with only a single high elf.”
Elves were not hermaphrodites. They required mates in order to reproduce.
Unfortunately, Raguel was the only elf remaining in this world.
“Difficult, yes. But not entirely impossible. You know that as well as I do.”
Countless miracles existed in this world.
For instance, they could gather all the Holy Grails and wish for a single female elf to be born.
“Young demon, do you understand the weight of a contract?” the dark elf asked.
A contract with a demon fundamentally used one’s life as collateral.
Once a contract was made, its conditions had to be fulfilled without exception.
The slaying of Margiel and the restoration of elven civilization—Mapheltan would have to accomplish two impossibly distant objectives.
From the dark elf’s perspective, it was practically inconceivable.
“What an obvious question,” Mapheltan said. “I am not foolish enough to misunderstand the weight of a contract.”
Quiet confidence rested upon his face.
He was far too composed for it to be mere reckless bravado.
It was as though he had already completed every necessary calculation.
Even the dark elf found himself somewhat disconcerted.
“You are a peculiar creature in every conceivable way,” he murmured.
“Now, give me your answer. Will you make a contract with me and turn the royal capital into a sea of fire, or will you allow yourselves to be buried alive in this mausoleum?”
The dark elf needed time to consider the matter rationally.
***
There was a city that shone brilliantly even in the depths of night—a city that never slept.
Clusters of light formed from divine power drifted leisurely through the sky, while pentagrams atop the churches scattered gentle moonlight across the ground.
This was Arterium, the capital of the Kingdom of Artelga.
It was a fortress city designed to prevent demons from entering. Anti-demon surveillance systems and barriers constructed exclusively against demons remained active here around the clock.
No demon dared approach Arterium.
The moment one set foot within the city, its black blood would evaporate instantly.
Even if a demon somehow survived, it would ultimately be slaughtered by the paladins and high-ranking priests.
For the past two hundred years, Arterium had not permitted a single demon to breach its defenses.
Naturally, the residents of the royal capital knew nothing of the fear demons inspired.
Even when a strange magic circle spread across the sky, they merely laughed and chatted in fascination.
“Mom, what’s that?”
“What? Where?”
“Up there. That thing in the sky that looks like a spiderweb.”
“Was the church supposed to be holding some kind of ceremony today? I’m not sure.”
“Whatever it is, it’s really pretty!”
“It certainly is. Haha!”
Most of the people reacted in much the same way.
A girl watching them from high above let out a quiet sigh.
“Johan, you can be terribly cruel sometimes—especially toward demons.”
She flicked her index finger.
At that moment, the vast magic circle ignited with a deep blue radiance.
The night became awash in blue light.
The smiles of the laughing people began to stiffen.
A horrifying chill seeped into their skin.
An unfathomable hatred, unlike anything they had ever experienced, bore down upon the earth.
In an instant, countless smiles transformed into screams.