Episode 167: The Hollow Immortal

(…This development far exceeds my expectations.)

While clashing blades with Siegfried, Lugdura inwardly clicks his tongue.

(Siegfried’s power in his ‘Second Form’—it’s over ten times stronger than before…!?)

If Siegfried had been suppressing his power with Magic Meridian Strike, then he had been fighting with less than a tenth of his true strength until now.

Even defeating that restrained Siegfried had required Lugdura to exhaust every tactic and scheme at his disposal.

(At this rate, I’ll be overwhelmed—)

With each exchange of sword strikes, Lugdura’s entire body creaks under the strain. Every time he parries a slash, the shockwave ripples through him.

“――■■■■”

Lugdura chants an incantation from the netherworld, not of this realm. In response, three spells activate instantly.

A bone cage capable of sealing even a colossal dragon, Fortis Carcer.

A bone scythe that reaps the lives of immortals, Soul Cleaver.

The infernal flames of the underworld that incinerate souls, Inferno of Orcus.

The simultaneous activation of three large-scale spells defies common sense. Only someone who transcends the laws of this world could hope to break through them.

And—Siegfried was precisely that: a being who transcends the laws of this world.

“Hmph… a battle of magic, is it? Very well.”

The moment he mutters those words, a deafening roar accompanies a surge of azure lightning. The bolts swirl around Siegfried, crackling as if heralding imminent destruction.

When he calmly raises his hand, the lightning writhes as though imbued with a will of its own.

A veritable apocalypse of thunder. The moment Lugdura’s spells touch the lightning, they crumble to dust and vanish in an instant.

“As expected, using magic in my ‘Second Form’ significantly amplifies its power.”

“Guh…!”

Even with magic, Lugdura cannot turn the tide of his disadvantage.

In fact, it only serves to lift Siegfried’s self-imposed restriction of fighting Lugdura, who wields a sword, with a sword alone.

(I see… you truly are a monster that transcends everything.)

To Lugdura, the title of Fourth of the Seven Great Calamities holds no value. It’s merely a framework imposed by others.

After all, the Seven Great Calamities are nothing but a collection of defeated beings.

Those who were vanquished, sealed away, or self-destructed—though their fates differ, they are all mere losers in the end.

But Lugdura was different.

He had simply moved to the Underworld of his own creation.

He believed himself supreme, the one and only eternal existence, never doubting it for a moment.

(…But in terms of sheer strength, I’m inferior to that man. I have no choice but to admit it.)

Even so… he had no intention of perishing here.

“Come forth, my kin—”

With those words, countless undead swarm the ground, covering it entirely.

Even if ten thousand or a hundred thousand undead appeared, they would likely be no match for Siegfried. But even so—

(Just a little… even a single moment. If I can buy time, then—)

If he could stall for even an instant, he could transfer to the Underworld.

Of course, crossing worlds would consume an immense amount of magical power. But—

(If I use the humans in the surrounding area as sacrifices, it’s a simple matter.)

By offering the life force of the humans around the capital as a sacrifice, he could activate the world-transfer spell. The time required for this—just a few seconds.

(Yes, just a few seconds. A few seconds will—)

Siegfried generally moves in response to the actions of his villainous foes. If so, exploiting that slight time lag to secure a few seconds wasn’t impossible.

(Now—)

The moment the undead are cut down one after another, Lugdura begins to activate his spell.

No—the very instant he tries to activate it.

“What…!?”

In that moment, a dome of blood envelops Lugdura, spanning roughly twenty meters in diameter.

Blood covers everything around him, swirling in a crimson pool at his feet. It’s as if he’s been cast into the depths of hell itself.

And—the moment the dome fully forms, Lugdura’s magical connection to the outside world is severed. Siegfried’s blood suppresses his magic entirely.

“Could it be… even this was part of your calculations…?”

“Exactly, Lugdura.”

Emerging within the blood dome is none other than Siegfried himself.

“I knew you’d try to escape to the Underworld if cornered. That’s why I set this blood trap.”

All the blood forming the trap is Siegfried’s own, spilled during their battle. Blood shed from wounds inflicted by Lugdura’s attacks.

By scattering it strategically—he had prepared. A blood cage to trap Lugdura the moment he attempted to flee.

“What are you—?”

Lugdura glares sharply at Siegfried.

“If you’d fought seriously from the start, there would’ve been no need for such convoluted tactics. Just what are you trying to achieve!?”

“I told you from the beginning, didn’t I? I’m a villain. But what about you, Lugdura?”

Siegfried meets Lugdura’s gaze unflinchingly, his words calm and deliberate.

“Listening to a villain’s ‘story’ is part of my duty. Four hundred years ago, why did you destroy countless nations? Why did you try to interfere with this world again through Joachim? Let me hear your reasons.”

“Why, you ask? I don’t care to explain. I am a being who transcends humanity. I have the right to bury and dominate them. That’s all there is to it—”

“…Is that all?”

“What are you getting at?”

“So, in other words—you kill because you have the power to. You dominate because you can. That’s your entire rationale?”

“What’s wrong with that!?”

“No… it’s just an utterly dull reason, that’s all.”

Siegfried’s eyes glint with a cold light.

“I’ve buried countless villains before. Corrupt officials who embezzled taxes, noble students who oppressed commoners, royals who colluded with enemy nations—their power doesn’t compare to yours. But they had desires as villains. Foolish, base… yet they had something they desperately craved, something they refused to relinquish. In other words—they had a story as villains. But you? You have none.”

Siegfried lets out a small breath.

“You’re nothing but a hollow villain with power alone. If that’s the case—don’t you think it’s time to bring down the curtain?”

With those words, Siegfried moves with godlike speed. From his lightning-fast advance, a sharp hand strike is unleashed.

“Guh…!”

Lugdura’s shoulder is severed. Yet, as the mightiest necromancer, his bone-crafted body begins to regenerate instantly.

But—Siegfried’s hand strike comes again. Clad in magic, the glowing blade slices, shatters, and mercilessly tears through Lugdura’s body.

And that is merely the prelude.

“Now—let’s bring this to its finale.”

Siegfried follows with a Magic Meridian Strike.

A blow that disrupts the flow of the opponent’s magic, sealing it within their body.

But Lugdura, in desperation, severs the affected part of his body, attempting to escape the magical disruption.

Yet, in the next instant, without pause, Siegfried unleashes a Magic Penetration Strike—a technique that channels magic into the enemy’s body, destroying them from within.

And this time, it doesn’t end with a single blow.

With a deep, earth-shaking rumble, countless penetration strikes rain down.

(This… it can’t be…!)

Lugdura shudders. Destructive magic accumulates relentlessly within his body.

Like an explosive with its fuse already lit—

“You… stop…!”

“Why should I? You’re a being defined solely by strength. If so, you should have no regrets falling before someone stronger—like me. Strength is your only reason for existing, after all.”

“That’s not true…!”

There was a reason, surely. A purpose for choosing the path of a necromancer, for tainting himself with the taboo of immortality, for remaking himself entirely—there had been something he sought to achieve.

But—after absorbing countless deaths, consuming endless grudges and souls, that purpose had dissipated, lost in the haze.

“I am—!”

His words falter.

What had he sought? Why had he become this? He could no longer articulate it.

In the next moment, Siegfried’s fist pierces Lugdura’s body.

The demonic fist technique—Cataclysmic Dust.

The Magic Meridian Strike seals movement, the Magic Penetration Strike amasses destructive magic, and the final Magic Burst Strike brings annihilation—

A merciless, lethal blow that embodies the sublimation of destruction and evil.