[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

Chapter 289: The Primordial Evil (4)

Bang, bang!

The dwarven workshop of the White Tower was bustling since morning.

From all directions came the clanging of hammers, and dwarves shouted orders as they moved about in perfect coordination.

“Hey! Check that there’s no problem with the mana core in the engine room!”

“No leaks at the power conduit joints, right?”

“What about the outer armor? Even a hairline crack won’t be tolerated!”

Regular maintenance of the airship was common enough, but things always became ten times busier before a departure.

It was a time to double- and triple-check everything—to make sure nothing was overlooked or left wanting.

Those who stepped into the workshop, which now resembled a battlefield of craftsmen, could only marvel.

“Whoa, so this is the dwarven workshop…”

“The rumors were true—dwarves really did build the White Tower’s airship.”

“Seeing it up close, that presence is something else.”

The Nosfela, the enormous airship, was suspended in midair, held by hundreds of chains and thick support beams.

Those seeing its underbelly for the first time were awestruck—and a little uneasy.

“Can something that big really fly?”

“It’s not going to fall out of the sky, is it?”

Among the worried stood the Heavenly Sword himself.

“Hmph. Does that thing actually fly properly?”

Oscar, as usual, met the old man’s nitpicking with easy confidence.

“You saw it during the White Night Festival, didn’t you?”

“A brief fluttering doesn’t count. Even a person can fly for a moment if you throw them hard enough. I’m asking whether long-distance flight is possible.”

“Heavenly Sword, please—look at my face.”

Without warning, Oscar pointed to himself.

“Well? What do you see?”

“...For some reason, I feel an overwhelming urge to punch you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No, I was just asking if I look like someone with a death wish.”

Oscar quietly took a step back.

“Unless I’m hoping we’ll all drown together, do you think I’d take this thing out if it couldn’t handle a long flight? I explained the specs thoroughly during the meeting, didn’t I?”

“I’ve seen countless silver-tongued charlatans in my hundred years.”

“...You’re not, by any chance, afraid of heights, are you?”

Scared?

That word could provoke anyone, across any nation.

Sure enough, the Heavenly Sword’s eyebrow twitched.

“Bah! Do I look like some doddering old fool scared of a flying boat?”

He then muttered while watching his grandson—the Little Sword Lord—admiring the airship from afar.

“...If I were riding alone, I wouldn’t have bothered asking.”

“Wow, could you please spare even one-tenth of that affection you have for your grandson and share it with me?”

“Why would I.”

There was no real comeback to that.

While Oscar continued explaining various features to the Heavenly Sword, the dwarven chief of the White Anvil clan—Hagor—approached.

“Oscar. Preparations are complete.”

“Good work, Hagor.”

If everything was ready, there was no need to delay further.

“All aboard!”

A temporary staircase connected to one of the support beams led upward, and one by one, people began to board the ship.

“Wow, this is nerve-wracking.”

“It’s much bigger and cleaner than I expected.”

Officially, this was the first time outsiders had ever boarded the airship.

‘The Emperor took a ride once, but that was different,’

Oscar thought.

This time, they’d gather proper data on passenger conditions—and maybe even conduct a satisfaction survey once the expedition was over.

“So… how exactly do we leave?”

Archbishop Baldwin asked innocently.

The 53rd-floor workshop was massive, but it was still enclosed on all sides—there didn’t seem to be any way for such a gigantic ship to get out.

“There are two methods. Which would you prefer?”

“Let’s hear them both.”

“The first is the orthodox way—open the outer wall and fly out. The second might cause a bit of motion sickness… I can teleport the whole thing through spatial magic.”

“...Let’s go with the orthodox one.”

As soon as he said that—Rrrrumble!

The entire floor quaked as one side of the wall began to open.

Morning sunlight poured in like grains of sand, and the docking bay slowly moved, carrying the ship outward.

“Ooooh!”

“My heart’s pounding… I feel excited all of a sudden!”

Thoom!

Once the Nosfela was fully outside the tower, the dwarves began shouting.

“Power up the engines!”

“Main mana battery—normal!”

“Auxiliary mana battery—normal!”

“Ouroboros magic circle—activation complete!”

With a deep, resonant hum—

Vroooom!

—the Nosfela gave a mechanical roar.

“Departure! Unchain her!”

Chaaaang!

The chains restraining the airship fell away, and the Nosfela surged skyward.

“Whoa!”

“Ugh! My ears—my ears feel weird!”

“M-my organs! It feels like they’re floating!”

The dwarves chuckled as they watched the flustered passengers.

They themselves had reacted the same way their first time.

But soon enough, as the airship reached cruising altitude and steadied its course—

“...Wow.”

Everyone gathered at the deck railing to take in the view.

It was a sight that would be burned into memory until the day they died.

Under the cloudless sky stretched an endless horizon, and below, people looked like tiny ants.

“……”

“……”

Surprisingly, no one spoke.

Or rather, none dared to—because no words could capture what they felt.

They simply stood silently, gazing down upon the world.

“El Sia…”

Archbishop Baldwin suddenly made the sign of the cross, prompting the priests and paladins to join in a solemn chant.

After a long prayer, the archbishop turned and smiled brightly.

“So this is what it must feel like to see the world from the goddess’s eyes.”

“Do you like it?”

“That’s too obvious a question! By the way, when will that ‘airport’ you mentioned be finished? Next time I have to travel to another city, I’ll definitely be taking an airship.”

“I’ve got a question too.”

Soon, even the Heavenly Sword joined in—bombarding Oscar with all sorts of questions.

He was exhausted before the flight was over, but still couldn’t help smiling.

‘Well, that’s a success.’

Judging from everyone’s reactions, the Nosfela’s maiden expedition was a complete triumph.

* * *

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]

“I must say, I’m glad I joined this expedition.”

Over the Black Sea, six hours into flight, Oscar was still being cornered by Archbishop Baldwin’s relentless curiosity.

Then, mercifully, a voice came over the ship’s announcement system.

[This airship will be arriving at its destination shortly.]

“Hm, already?”

Baldwin looked genuinely disappointed.

“I can’t wait to retrieve the Holy Sword quickly and get back on board.”

“...That sounds a bit backwards, doesn’t it?”

“Hahaha! Retrieving the sword won’t take long anyway.”

Then a knight from the Heavenly Sword’s retinue cried out.

“Land ahead!”

At once, everyone rushed to the deck rail.

Amid the pitch-black waters stood a lone island.

“Hooh, that must be it.”

The island grew larger as they approached.

At its center was a massive cubic structure—square and cold like a giant stone box.

“That must be the labyrinth.”

“I heard it used to be Belpher’s research facility—or laboratory, perhaps.”

One thing was clear, that Belpher fellow had zero sense of aesthetics.

Even a four-year-old could’ve built something with more personality.

“Excuse me a moment.”

Oscar approached a dwarf and told him to hold off on landing.

He then gathered mana.

“Scan.”

The mana he released spread instantly across the entire island.

It consumed a fair amount of energy, but the results were satisfactory.

“Whew.”

“How’s it look—uh, what’s it like?”

Asked Lloyd, stepping closer.

Oscar nodded,

“As expected, no signs of life. Usually you’d detect small animals at least… but nothing.”

“A land of death indeed.”

Together, they returned to Baldwin and the Heavenly Sword.

“I scanned the island—no lifeforms detected.”

“Hmm. Better strengthen the divine wards, just in case.”

“That would be wise.”

Even on the flight over, the church’s divine protection had shielded the ship.

Without it, the hull would’ve corroded long ago.

Vrooom…

The airship slowly descended, crushing dead trees beneath its weight as it landed.

Stepping onto the ground via rope ladder, Archbishop Baldwin muttered,

“Hmm… The aura of death here is overwhelming.”

“Yes, it’s awful.”

It was unlike demonic mana—this was pure malice and death itself.

Looking around, Lloyd spoke.

“We’ll need to split the party—some to guard the ship, the rest to retrieve the sword.”

“Agreed. Leave only the minimum necessary to defend the ship.”

Baldwin then left several priests aboard, and the Heavenly Sword assigned six knights as well.

“Fifteen or so should be enough to hold the ship. The dwarves are still here too.”

“Yes, that sounds about right.”

The dwarves were already busy clambering over the ropes, inspecting the hull.

Oscar turned to Baldwin.

“How long can your priests maintain the holy barrier around the ship?”

“No need to worry. Even without me, it’ll hold for about six hours.”

“Six hours…”

That should be more than enough—assuming nothing went wrong.

Relieved, Oscar nodded, and the Heavenly Sword spoke up.

“Knights—take positions!”

Clack! Clack!

The knights formed up in perfect order, surrounding and protecting the priests and mages.

Baldwin followed suit.

“Paladins—match formation with the Heavenly Sword’s men.”

“Yes, sir!”

In moments, the formation was complete—priests and mages safely within the ring of steel.

“Move out.”

Thirty minutes later, the expedition reached the labyrinth.

“The entrance?”

“One on each side—four total.”

“Hmm…”

The Heavenly Sword frowned thoughtfully, and Baldwin offered a suggestion.

“Is there any need to split forces?”

“It would be safer to stay together—but if we want to finish within five hours, we’ll need to divide.”

It had taken thirty minutes to get here, so the return would take another thirty.

That left five hours to find and retrieve the Holy Sword.

If they failed, they’d have to retreat—otherwise the ship might corrode, trapping them on the island.

“Hmm…”

Moving dozens of people together would be inefficient, true.

Baldwin turned to Lloyd.

“What say you, Mage of Ashes?”

“Divide into four groups. That would be the most efficient.”

Lloyd Schultz—efficiency incarnate.

But Oscar shook his head.

“That’s too risky. With only twenty or so people, four teams means just five per group.”

“Then?”

“Split in two. That’s as far as we can safely go.”

“Hmm. Two, then.”

Baldwin nodded slowly.

“Not bad. Even if neither team finds the sword, we can regroup and check the remaining two entrances. Two round trips should suffice.”

“Yes—safety first.”

“Tch. Safety, in a place where not even an ant lives?”

Clicking his tongue, the Heavenly Sword made his own decision.

“No need to complicate it. Split into two teams for the first two entrances. I’ll take the third, and that brat can take the fourth.”

He pointed squarely at Lloyd.

“You’re an eighth-circle mage—you can handle yourself.”

“Not unreasonable. It’s efficient, too.”

Even Lloyd agreed.

“Then I’ll go first.”

With hands behind his back, the Heavenly Sword strode to one entrance.

Slash!

An invisible blade cleaved through the doorway, and he disappeared into the darkness.

“Then I’ll take the opposite side.”

Once Lloyd vanished into his own entrance, Oscar turned to Baldwin with a wry smile.

“Left or right, Archbishop?”

“Hm. A fortune-teller said my luck lies to the left this year. I’ll take that one.”

A priest who believed in fortune-telling?

Oscar couldn’t hide his incredulous look, and Baldwin laughed heartily.

“You’ll understand when you’re older. You start believing all sorts of nonsense—divine providence comes in many forms, after all.”

With that, he led his team into the left entrance.

Oscar glanced around one last time.

“Alright, let’s move.”

“Yes, sir.”

Including Cheon Ajin and himself, there were ten in his group.

Leading them, Oscar stepped into the right-hand passage.

[Translator - Night]

[Proofreader - Gun]