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Chapter 307 - The Great Expedition (9)

Dracan made eye contact with Henry, and he could see that he was smirking.

Henry looked at Dracan, who was squirming on the ground with only his upper body remaining, and he ordered Klever.

“Begin, Klever.”

- Yes, Master.

Oong!

Along with Henry’s command, thousands of magic circles emerged from the darkness within Klever’s Chest. They looked ordinary, filled with the usual runes and formulas.

However, Dracan couldn’t help but shudder because he knew the real power that lay within those circles.

‘A-all those spells are...!’

They were all 8th-Circle spells.

In the past, Dracan would’ve never known how powerful such circles really were, but now that he had reached the 7th-Circle, he could feel with certainty the power they held.

Dracan was starting to panic, his mouth dry. Even though Henry had reached the 8th-Circle the easy way, following the path his late master had conveniently laid out for him, his power was nonetheless real.

Dracan closed his mouth and clenched his fists tightly, trying to overcome the fear that stirred in him.

As though he were trying to brainwash himself, Dracan muttered to himself, “I...! I believe in my power! And I will prove...! That my Reborn is stronger than you!”

Hearing this, Henry said wryly, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

With that, Henry’s projection faded, leaving only the horrible bright lights of destruction in Dracan’s sight.

***

“Is it done?”

Henry felt most of the spells he had prepared beforehand in Klever’s Chest activate. This was one of the many countermeasures he had prepared, one that he had originally planned to use against Arthus.

However, Henry didn’t regret using it against Dracan because there was no guarantee that this strategy would work against Arthus anyway.

So, without a moment of hesitation, Henry had trapped Dracan in Klever’s Chest and activated his spells.

Henry looked at the lower half of Dracan’s body, still writhing on the ground. This was supposed to be the pinnacle of evolution, but seeing part of it squirm on the ground, it looked less like an evolved body and more like a chopped-up snake.

Henry had initially intended to burn what remained of Dracan, but he instead froze it and stored it in the subspace.

“Klever,” called Henry.

- Yes, Master.

“How’s it going?”

- He’s died four hundred times.

“Tsk, what an annoying guy.”

Henry shook his head at Klever’s report.

Dracan had said that he had five hundred extra lives, and it seemed like he hadn’t been bluffing.

Five hundred lives... At first glance, it seemed like he had cracked the secret of eternal youth, but technically it wasn’t eternal.

Dracan had simply stored the lives of other people in his body and used them to extend his own. He never should’ve told Henry the secret of Reborn in the first place, but he was so arrogant and drunk on his own power that he had revealed his own weakness.

Of course, Dracan might be able to break through the vicious cycle of infernal magic that was killing him over and over in the Chest and escape by using the divine power he had received from Arthus.

However, Henry knew that Dracan was not going to use Arthus’ divine power because...

‘He’s a wizard.’

Wizards were some of the most conceited people, and they were fixed in their own ways. They considered themselves superior, better than normal folk, just because they had learnt magic.

Henry had seen the inferiority in Dracan’s eyes and his desperation to affirm himself, both stemming from his twisted pride and the delusion that he was truly special.

Therefore, Dracan would clearly choose to die than use Arthus’ divine power to save himself. Henry was convinced of that. After all, Dracan had once studied at the Magical Spire, following Henry’s teachings.

‘So now he has a hundred lives left... Wait, no. He also died about ten times from the Magic Arrows, so he just needs to die another ninety times.’

Henry would patiently wait until Dracan had used up all the spare lives he had.

**

Dracan was terrified when he saw the numerous magic circles that filled the Chest because he knew that the pain of 8th-Circle magic was incomparable to the pain of Magic Arrows or Magic Spears.

Of course, it was a bit odd that a wizard who had conducted countless human experiments would be frightened of such pain. However, Dracan had always disregarded the pain he inflicted on those poor souls. If it wasn’t him that hurt, it didn’t matter.

Dracan swallowed nervously and bit down hard. He believed in the magic he had created; he believed in Reborn.

Reborn essentially allowed its caster to live forever if they absorbed enough human lives. Therefore, Dracan tried to reassure himself with the fact that the most agonizing parts of the 8th-Circle magic would eventually come to an end.

He chose to put all his hope into that fact and endure the storm of magic.

It was an unbearable, mind-numbing pain. The Magic Arrows and Magic Spears had merely tickled compared to this.

Unlike those two spells, which simply pierced one’s flesh and caused some extra pain with their special properties, the 8th-Circle offensive spells caused an unimaginable deep-rooted pain.

Dracan lost consciousness several times only for the pain to wake him up again. During this entire grueling process, Reborn functioned perfectly.

The spell cast away Dracan’s body on the brink of death and gave him a new life.

How many times had he been reborn just like that? After facing around one hundred deaths, Dracan gave up on trying to keep track of how many times he had come back to life.

However, the Chest was still filled with Henry’s spells, and the magic storm still wreaking havoc.

It was only when he realized he had less than fifty lives left that Dracan felt that something was wrong.

‘Just... why?!’

The storm of magic should’ve ended, so why was it still killing him? If anything, it was actually getting even more intense.

‘How the hell...!’

The cause for that was obvious—the mana of a 7th-Circle wizard was like the water in a bowl that eventually ran out, but the mana of an 8th-Circle was different.

It was like air, like an infinite ocean that would never dry up. Thus, if he really wanted to, Henry could maintain this 8th-Circle magic storm for the rest of his life.

Not knowing this, Dracan could only despair as the never-ending storm kept killing him, bringing him closer and closer to true death.

Dracan was genuinely terrified.

Both his blood and his mouth dried up as his extra lives kept being shaved off. However, if he accepted his limitations and used the divine power he had received from Arthus to escape and kill Henry, then...

He would fall into a spiral of self-loathing for the rest of his life. The fact that he hadn’t been able to beat Henry by himself would haunt him forever.

Thirty lives left.

He felt like he had boarded a ship that had been sinking from the very start. Even as these thoughts filled his head, the pain of his bones crumbling to tiny pieces and his flesh being torn apart overwhelmed him.

It was a most harrowing scene, and with each passing moment, Dracan approached his true demise.

As Dracan kept trying to think of something, anything that could save him from this hell, the lives he had left dropped to one digit.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

...

A horrifying countdown accompanied each spell that killed him and each rebirth. With only five lives left, Dracan had to make a decision: either die with honor or live in shame, despising himself for the rest of his life.

Boom!

At his last life, Dracan shouted in a stern voice, “I’ll...!”

Flash!

As Dracan spoke up, a bright light enveloped his surroundings once again.

***

Like someone waking up from anesthesia, Dracan still couldn’t get a hold of himself because of the excruciating pain of the 8th-Circle spells that had crushed him over and over and over again. It wasn’t until he realized that he was no longer in pain that he could properly open his eyes.

He was outside, and the first thing he saw was a stranger\'s feet.

‘Feet...?’

The stranger was wearing boots that seemed to be made from luxurious leather.

Dracan wanted to look up and see who this stranger was, but his neck was almost paralyzed, so he couldn’t raise his gaze past the stranger’s ankles.

That was because he still felt some lingering pain, his body still weak after all the torment.

At that moment, a very familiar and unpleasant voice broke through his dazed mind and struck his ear.

“I guess you can still call yourself a wizard.”

It was none other than Henry. He was looking down at Dracan with a smile, his arms crossed.

Dracan was on the ground, and he still had most of his evolved body that he so proudly bragged about.

His spine lay exposed on the ground, his elongated snake lower body missing. He looked like the remains of a fish after someone had eaten it, throwing away the head and the bones.

At the end of it all were his torn-up wings on his back, his neck full of holes, and his pale head, all of his hair having been burnt off.

Henry frowned and sneered at Dracan’s ugliness.

“How... dare you!” yelled Dracan.

“I’ll admit, a normal human wouldn’t be able to get a word out in this state... Or rather, they wouldn’t be able to draw breath. Congratulations. You’ve evolved into a great piece of meat, Dracan.”

Henry was genuinely impressed not only by Reborn’s ability to resurrect someone, but also by Dracan’s new body, keeping him alive even in this miserable state.

He was like a cockroach.

Dracan pursed his lips and blurted, “You...!”

“Sshh. You managed to impress me. I was almost certain you’d choose to die because of your pride. So I’ll give you credit for your mindset as a wizard, even though you’re messed up in the head.”

“...”

Dracan didn’t answer. Instead, he stayed silent for some time, and then he burst into laughter.

“Pff... Phahahaha!”

Like a dying ember, Dracan laughed in a shrill voice, but even that was weak like a deflating balloon.

Henry listened to Dracan’s laughter in silence.

After he was done laughing, Dracan finally said, “I lost, Henry.”

“Of course.”

“Hahaha, yeah... Henry Morris, you won. However, you have only defeated me.”

“Of course. Were there any other enemies here?”

“Hah, how funny. The only reason you were able to come to me in the first place was because I asked Sir Arthus... But what do you think happened to the others?”

“You sure talk a lot for someone who’s dying. Why don’t you stop beating around the bush and just get to the point?”

“You’re mistaken...! The only reason you were able to defeat me was because I didn’t use any of the divine power I received from Sir Arthus! However, you...! Or rather, do you think your scattered companions are doing just as well as you? You don’t think you can take us on with just the divine power of those rings, do you?!”

Dracan admitted his defeat. However, Arthus and his apostles hadn’t been defeated.

Thus, he decided to accept his defeat and die an honorable death. He had accomplished all that he could’ve, and even though he had ultimately failed, he had still managed to experience what he had sought all his life.

However, despite admitting defeat and being one step away from death, Dracan didn’t consider this to be true defeat. This wasn’t his individual battle meant for his own gain; he had fought for his lord, the demigod, Arthus.

“Oh, that’s it...? If these are your final words, consider me disappointed. Is that all you have to say?”

“What...?”

“Tsk, tsk, that’s the difference between you and me. Why do you think I brought all the Sages with me who have no divine power in the first place?”

“What do you mean... Wait, it can’t be!”

“Tsk. I don’t know what you’ve just realized, but just die already. You’re not worth talking to anymore.”

Slice!

Henry swung his Colt Sword and killed Dracan for good.

Dracan went limp. He had died not as a human, but as a grotesque monster.

Dismissing his sword, Henry said to himself, “Anyway, I wonder if everyone’s doing as they were told... I’m a little worried.”

After incinerating Dracan’s corpse, Henry cast Teleportation to find his scattered team members.

As he took a few steps forward, he vanished into thin air.