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Chapter 410
From the mont he beca a resonant bearer of the Book of Genesis, its effects applied even without physically carrying the book.
The funny thing was that becoming the Book of Genesis didn’t erase the existing abilities.
The power to record and alter fate.
A book that governed a domain no one else in this world could even touch was, without question, no ordinary object.
Thud.
Isna casually tossed a severed, blood-soaked arm in front of .
“Whose is it?”
“Garlan’s.”
“Impressive. You actually managed to cut it off.”
“I got it before he escaped. Can you track him with this?”
“What do I look like, so kind of all-purpose pouch? No chance.”
She stared at the arm with faint regret, then burned it away as the blood soaking into the floor ignited.
“And that chick-spirit of yours.”
“…Sur?”
“Yeah.”
She hesitated, then spoke carefully.
“He’s cute.”
Fair enough.
For such a tiny body to puff himself up so bravely was adorable.
Especially since he’d finally obtained the horned helt he’d always wanted—he wore it practically twenty-four hours a day.
Even Grivy hadn’t carried her favorite safety helt and trowel around nonstop, which just showed how aningful that helt was to Sur.
“Anyway. Can you use Breath of Iron again?”
Isna reached toward the book.
Formless energy flowed from her fingertips into it—
Crack!
“Ugh…!”
The backlash knocked her hand away.
“Looks like Breath of Iron needs to be fully stabilized before it can be granted. Can’t you just force it?”
“I can.”
The power gathering at my fingertips wasn’t hard to handle.
Fine control wasn’t my strong suit, but the structure wasn’t that different from what I was already used to.
And since it worked just by being shoved in without delicate manipulation, that helped.
“I’ll do it later.”
The mont I turned—
A chill ran down my spine, and I snapped my head around.
“Sothing wrong?”
Luna asked cautiously.
“No. Probably just my imagination.”
It felt like sothing had been there.
Apparently not.
* * *
Casualties were nearly nonexistent.
We’d anticipated sothing like this and prepared accordingly.
And since the mont Shoggoth erged it was imdiately suppressed, the outco was inevitable.
lissa was busy handling the aftermath.
She checked for injuries and assessed material damage caused by the sudden attack.
Knights and soldiers who hadn’t been dispatched to the Demon Realm assisted her.
And—
Soone stood silently watching them all.
Leon Cascadia.
Guardian of the Kingdom of Bata.
The final bulwark protecting this territory.
Visitors often doubted his existence at first, but those who’d lived here long enough all knew the truth.
Leon was not bound by common sense.
Even so—could he be perfect in the face of such an attack?
Impossible.
That was precisely why this had happened.
With a hardened expression, he surveyed the territory.
What was he thinking?
A knight watched him from afar.
Regret?
Anger?
Whatever it was, one thing was clear—how deeply Leon cherished this land.
“That’s the young lord… He doesn’t look well. What do you think he’s thinking about?”
A junior knight asked carefully.
The senior knight closed his eyes, then opened them slowly.
“Who knows? The burdens he carries are beyond what people like us could imagine.”
That sentint was shared by many.
Seeing Leon silently inspect the land, people felt gratitude—and guilt.
Unaware of those gazes, Leon continued walking.
‘I’m kinda hungry… what should I have for dinner?’
“HEY! LEON! Quit spacing out and help! This place is completely wrecked!”
At lissa’s shout, Leon finally moved.
“Guess it’s been a while since we had a pork belly party.”
Leon’s greatest concern, after all, was dinner.
* * *
Information about the Cascadia incident was tightly controlled.
Nothing good would co from spreading it.
“Garlan’s only option left is a Transcendent.”
A Transcendent.
A pretty decent farm target.
I’d once used a core extracted from one to glimpse the truth.
Ever since, I’d kept Kuralion’s Staff—the Void Enchanter—stored in subspace.
“Are those cores easy to get?”
“He’ll prioritize quality over quantity. That’s why he’s targeting barbarian organs and other rare materials.”
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Garlan’s plan was simple.
Use Shoggoth to destabilize and weaken over ti, then finish with a powerful Transcendent.
He’d thought it through—but Shoggoth had ended up benefiting instead.
He didn’t even realize his plan was already collapsing.
“The pressure’s on him anyway. The Watchers are falling apart, and information is leaking. Groups with old grudges against them are starting to move.”
Garlan knew that too.
“Based on when he fed you Shoggoth, he’ll launch a full assault within two months at most.”
“Big operation?”
“Not dangerous. Just annoying.”
“And what about what I asked for?”
Isna shook the empty ampoule lightly.
“I planted it when I cut off his arm.”
“Then that’s enough.”
“That was undead, right? What did you put in him?”
“No need for us to dirty our hands directly.”
What I wanted was a social experint.
Imagine a group of about ten people, all working urgently toward a shared goal.
Now introduce evidence that there’s a traitor among them.
Once trust collapses, the result is obvious.
“Why would we bother killing them ourselves?”
“You really think this’ll work?”
“Why wouldn’t it? You forget who they are? Betrayers who seized power through internal conflict.”
Once you’ve done it before, you’re especially sensitive to it.
“They’ll feel it too. Trying to summon a world-ending monster just to kill ? Even if they pretend otherwise, sothing will feel off.”
“…Hmm.”
She still looked doubtful.
“Watch. Two undead sabotages are enough.”
* * *
The Watchers—now calling themselves the Avengers—were on edge.
Their leader, Garlan, had returned missing an arm.
He claid the plan had succeeded.
Yet sothing felt wrong.
The atmosphere of the facility didn’t help.
Grotesque tanks filled with human organs.
Flesh from unknown creatures.
Lately, an unsettling mood had spread among them.
‘Is this really right?’
They’d gathered for a cause—but this felt different.
And if the plan truly succeeded, Leon should’ve shown signs of change.
Instead, he looked relaxed.
Smiling.
As if nothing mattered.
The leadership kept silent, but they were uneasy too.
After all, they themselves had seized power through betrayal.
They knew how fragile loyalty could be.
Still—nothing went wrong imdiately.
Until a few days after the Cascadia incident.
Several Transcendent organs vanished from the underground lab.
Then—
A fanatically loyal follower of Garlan was found brutally murdered.
Only two suspects.
And the problem?
Only Avengers knew this place existed.
Suspicion spread.
Was there a traitor?
No one knew who.
Then ca unexplained fires.
Two more mbers died without a trace.
Worse, all incidents occurred during tis when alibis were impossible to verify.
They searched for external infiltration.
Found nothing.
With Nyarlathotep—Garlan’s key supporter—absent, the organization grew colder by the day.
Then—
“You traitor bastard!!”
“I— I didn’t— cough!”
“Don’t lie! You opposed the plan! And you can’t prove your alibi!”
Radicals purged those who had shown doubts.
Small cracks widened.
And Garlan—the one who should have controlled the chaos—lay unconscious, still recovering from Isna’s attack.
The Avengers began to collapse from within.
* * *
At the sa ti—
“See? Told you it’d work. Once suspicion starts, it never stops. Why? Because they’re betrayers who took power that way. And honestly—summoning an outer-dinsional monster for revenge? That’s insane.”
Resonating with the two undead embedded in Garlan’s severed arm, Leon let out a cold smile.
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