Chapter 15: A Grand Lineup

Chapter 15: A Grand Lineup

As Amon spoke, from the enormous vortex behind Him, transparent tentacles covered in mysterious patterns had already extended over, wrapping around His different Spirit Body Threads.

In an instant, those illusory, fine black lines were lifted without the slightest obstruction.

Thus, one strangely shaped monster after another was suspended in midair, like hams waiting to dry in the wind.

All those Spirit Body Threads around Amon had been stolen by Him at some unknown time!

While Zaratul launched His attack, the other slick tentacles continuously reached into the void, attempting to drag certain things back.

After only two or three such motions, a figure rapidly outlined itself.

He had chestnut, slightly curled long hair, blue eyes, a high nose bridge, thin lips, and two beautifully groomed little mustaches. Wearing a dark-red coat embroidered with rusty-gold thread, he was none other than Intis’s former emperor, Roselle Gustav.

The moment this Knowledge Emperor stepped into the real world, He looked down from above at the enlarged Amon. In His eyes, one complex, illusory symbol after another condensed instantly.

He was not worried at all that Amon would steal His attack, because what He prepared was an extremely vast amount of mixed and useless knowledge. Whether He forcefully poured it in, or whether Amon took it Himself, the result would be the same: the target’s mind would be stuffed until it burst.

Just as Emperor Roselle’s projection from the gaps of history fully took shape, Zaratul’s transparent tentacles dragged out a second figure.

That figure’s face was young, but his long hair had already turned half-white. It streamed backward, floating in midair, half hidden and half visible within the night.

This was an angel Klein did not recognize. His outward appearance was male. His eyes were dark and contained vicissitudes. His features were fairly handsome, yet clusters of short, thick, coarse black fur grew on his cheeks, giving people a contradictory impression: old yet youthful, rational yet insane.

He immediately transformed into a writhing, embracing mass of tiny worms, extending transparent, slick tentacles similar to Zaratul’s projection.

Clearly, this was also an angel of the Seer pathway.

At that moment, Klein almost did not dare look directly at the situation in midair. Yet as his spirituality stirred, he sensed something familiar.

The second angel Zaratul summoned was the son of an ancient god, the original ancestor of the Antigonus family!

This was the projection from the gaps of history before He became half a Fool.

Clearly, Zaratul had made ample preparations during this period of time.

As Antigonus displayed His complete mythical creature form, the surrounding environment changed once again. The darkness grew even denser, surging toward the enormous Amon—who wore a classical black robe, pointed soft hat, and monocle—as though it had a life of its own.

Within the area covered by that darkness, all the monsters instantly became marionettes.

Antigonus seemed to have moved part of the ancient god’s divine kingdom from His memories into the real world, using it to separate Amon and Klein.

This was likewise a miracle.

When the miracle descended, Zaratul’s transparent tentacles dragged a third projection out from the fog of history.

This was a knight clad in full-body black armor. He was a demigod of the Solomon Empire during the Fourth Epoch and had not left too illustrious a name in history.

However, He had another identity: a member of the War of Red Legion, whose leader was King of Angels Medici.

Within this legion, every member could communicate with the Red Angel Medici mentally, as though they formed a single whole.

In other words, Medici could gather their power, and could also transmit His own power to them.

The power of Scholar of Yore could not involve a Uniqueness. Even after qualitative change through higher Sequences, this remained the same. But Seers would undoubtedly seek ways to skirt the edges of the limitation, attempting to bypass restrictions and obtain, within a certain range, help related to a Uniqueness.

Klein had achieved this by summoning the vessel of the Goddess’s descent that possessed only a tiny amount of power, while Zaratul summoned a powerful figure from within the War of Red Legion.

At that moment, that projection was equivalent to a portion of Medici!

The knight in full-body black armor stepped onto the battlefield. After sweeping his dull gaze around once, He immediately laughed.

“Yo, little crow. Has the fur I burned off grown back yet?”

Because the projection from the gaps of history that Klein had summoned had gone on to summon three angel-level projections from the gaps of history, the pressure Klein had to maintain increased instantly. He suspected that he might not even last ten seconds.

If not for this change, he would probably have thought he had found a way to infinitely raise his battle strength: every time, summon two great angels and one self-projection, then let that self-projection summon two great angels and one self-projection, continuing like this endlessly, generation after generation without limit.

At this moment, the ascetic leader of the Church of Evernight, Arianna, faded and entered a Concealed state. Then, She abruptly appeared behind the enlarged Amon and swung the bone longsword in Her hand, the blade covered in strange patterns.

Taking advantage of Amon being besieged by five angel projections, Klein continuously transformed the monsters into marionettes. He made them aim at him, open their mouths, and produce banging sounds.

One air bullet after another whistled toward Klein himself.

At the same time, Klein reached out and easily took from the air a Sunflare Charm that had already been activated and was about to take effect.

He refused to believe that, under multiple layers of attack, he could still survive.

Amid the bangs, Klein suddenly heard a “tick.”

The entire world seemed to freeze for an instant, then return to normal.

Klein immediately saw a huge hole split open in the dark sky, and a pure, scorching beam of sunlight shone in, igniting a charm made of gold.

It was precisely the Sunflare Charm. It transformed into an enormous sphere of light, a fiery ball surrounded by countless flames.

However, its target was not Klein. An error had occurred. It enveloped the demigod of the War of Red Legion instead.

On the other side, the massive knowledge Roselle Gustav poured in, the miracle Antigonus created, the destructive longsword Arianna swung, and the transparent tentacles Zaratul extended all incorrectly pointed toward the same target—the black-armored subordinate of Medici.

This projection, which to a certain extent bore a portion of Medici’s will, first had its mind explode, seeming to lose even its instinctive reaction. Then it was struck by layer after layer of attacks and quickly dissipated in midair.

Amon, wearing a pointed soft hat and a classical mage robe, had at some unknown time returned to human size and landed at the bottom of the battlefield.

He raised His right hand and adjusted the monocle carved from crystal. A gleam lit up along with the gesture.

Behind Him, the ancient, mottled, complete illusory clock appeared once more. Its longest second hand spun forward nearly half a circle at a speed beyond normal.

The time spent was actually less than one second, but across the entire barren plain, all things seemed to lose more than ten, perhaps twenty seconds.

Antigonus’s historical image disappeared. Roselle’s projection from the gaps of history scattered along with it. Next came the historical images of Zaratul and Arianna.

The time they could maintain had been stolen just like that.

Klein, who was about to make a third attempt at suicide, saw this scene and almost could not believe his eyes.

He had expected the Blasphemer Amon to be able to deal with the five great angel projections. After all, projections were ultimately only projections, far inferior to their true bodies. But he had never imagined that Amon would do it so lightly, without even truly giving him the opportunity to create his own death.

He had used his trump card and received such a result in exchange. It was hard to avoid feeling dejected and despairing.

Amon pushed His monocle, stole the distance, and arrived before Klein in a single step. Looking at him, He smiled.

“If they were all true bodies, that would indeed have been rather troublesome.

“But images from the gaps of history have very significant defects, and seizing upon ‘problems’ is precisely what I am good at.”

Looking at this Angel of Time, whose smile remained unchanged, whose expression carried abundant delight, and who did not seem at all to have found the earlier situation difficult, Klein felt his heart slowly sink as if falling into an abyss.

His spirituality was touched, and scene after scene flashed rapidly through his mind:

After entering the Forsaken Land of the Gods, Amon had changed His clothing, replacing the dark jacket, wool trousers, and black top hat that matched current fashion with a classical mage robe and a pointed soft hat.

After that, He had proposed a game of escape and interception.

He had behaved with extreme confidence, not the least worried about any mishap…

As thoughts flashed, Klein’s throat grew somewhat dry. His voice was rather hoarse as he said, “You… are the main body…

“After entering the Forsaken Land of the Gods, your main body merged with your avatar?”

He sincerely suspected that the Amon before him was Amon’s true body—the real Blasphemer, the complete King of Angels!

The corners of Amon’s lips slowly lifted beneath the monocle.

“This is very interesting, isn’t it?

“The expression you showed after learning this truth was exactly what I wanted to see by playing this game.”

He clearly admitted that He was the main body—the main body that innately contained the Uniqueness of the Marauder pathway, ranking in the first tier beneath the gods.

This meant that, unless a true god descended, no matter how hard Klein tried and no matter how much he struggled, he could not escape Amon’s hands. And this was the Forsaken Land of the Gods. The only active god here was the True Creator, whose interest in Sefirah Castle was not especially strong.

At that moment, although he had suspected that the Amon beside him had already been replaced by the main body, when he truly confirmed it, Klein—who had experienced hope rising and then shattering again and again—still understood what ultimate despair meant. If the Tarot Club had not involved Miss Justice, Leonard, and the others, and if he had not known that Amon was best at deception, he might have opened his mouth and admitted defeat, expressing willingness to become the other party’s blessed.

If you can’t beat them, becoming one of them is normal, isn’t it… Amid self-mockery, inspiration suddenly flashed in Klein’s mind, and he recalled some of the words Amon had previously spoken.

This… His eyes abruptly brightened. He became completely calm, looked at Amon, leisurely stretched his body, and said with a smile:

“Kill me.”