"Kugh...!" Ismoken instinctively drew upon his energy, barely managing to block the sudden attack. BOOOOM! The Dragon Cannon's mana collided with his own, unleashing a powerful shockwave that blasted him backward. He skidded across the ground, struggling to keep his footing. His first reaction was to counterattack immediately, but the thought of not destroying the weapon forced him to hold back. Momentarily shaken by the unexpected assault, he cautiously observed the Dragon Cannon. It remained still. "W-What is this? Was it pre-programmed? Or does it automatically detect enemies? Does such a technology even exist?" He knew nothing about the Empire’s new weaponry. His knowledge had always been speculative at best. One thing, however, was clear. This was no mere piece of junk. Despite its shabby, trash-like appearance, the weapon had demonstrated immense power. Feeling uneasy, but also recognizing its value, he became even more convinced—he had to take it. Ismoken, his expression tense, stared at the Dragon Cannon. It simply sat there, as if nothing had happened. Relieved, he stepped forward to inspect it more closely. Creeeak. The wagon it was mounted on suddenly rolled backward. "......?" Baffled, Ismoken took another step forward. The wagon rolled back again. Creeak, creeeak, creeeak. Every time he approached, the wagon shifted from side to side, avoiding him. "What the hell...?" Ismoken focused his senses, trying to trace the flow of mana. Mana was surging from the weapon itself, seemingly propelling the wagon’s movement. Before he could stop himself, he shouted instinctively— "S-Stop!" Thud. The weapon immediately halted. Ismoken’s eyes widened in shock. "It... understands speech? Is it possessed by a spirit?" Fascinated, he spoke again. "Don’t attack. I’m going to dismantle you." The Dragon Cannon remained motionless. Encouraged, Ismoken cautiously stepped closer. And then— BOOOOM! BOOOOM! BOOOOOM! "Urgh!" A barrage of fireballs erupted from the Dragon Cannon's muzzle, forcing him to dodge frantically. He stared at it in disbelief. "It recognizes enemies?" What kind of advanced technology was this? His mind flooded with theories. Perhaps... it really did contain a spirit. On top of that, the sheer amount of mana it expelled was astonishing. Had he taken a direct hit, even he—a high-ranking priest—would have suffered severe damage. "This thing is dangerous. A truly dangerous weapon." For the first time in his life, Ismoken felt fear. A weapon that could fight against transcendents? It didn’t make sense. And yet, this weapon was supposedly being mass-produced by the Empire. If that were true, then artificial transcendents were being manufactured. The Salvation Order had always struggled against humanity’s coalition forces, primarily due to dragons. But if weapons like this continued to appear... This war would end in absolute defeat. "I must take it!" He had to steal it and unravel its secrets. Only then could they develop countermeasures—perhaps even create their own version of such a weapon. This would be a greater achievement than any battlefield victory. BOOOOM! BOOOOM! BOOOOM! The Dragon Cannon darted around, continuing its relentless assault. Sweat trickled down Ismoken’s back. "This thing has the power of a 7th-circle mage... It's terrifying." Ismoken gritted his teeth. He had no idea how to stop it. Creeeak! Creeeak! But something strange was happening. The Dragon Cannon's movements were growing increasingly erratic. Bang! Bang! With each movement, its armor plating fell apart. The rain and wind had long since worn it down. And now, even its internal components were shaking loose. Watching it literally fall apart, Ismoken grew frantic. "Is it because there's no operator? Or is the durability just that bad?" If it completely broke down, then stealing it would be pointless. He needed to act fast. Determined, Ismoken lunged forward, trying to seize control of the weapon. But the Dragon Cannon spun wildly, as if panicking—and in doing so, it continued to self-destruct. BOOM! BOOM! This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight. Its mana-infused fire surged, splitting into smaller, erratic blasts that arced toward him. Several struck him. "Kuwaaah!" Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he staggered. "What... kind of attack is this...?" Even after pouring his energy into defense, he still took internal damage. More terrifyingly, the weapon’s attacks felt... intentional. As if it had a will of its own. As if it was thinking. The battle between Ismoken and the Dragon Cannon dragged on. Slowly but surely, he was lured away from the mercenaries. Bang! Bang! Bang! The wagon carrying the Dragon Cannon finally shattered completely. Yet the Dragon Cannon itself continued sliding across the ground. As it did, its remaining wheels scraped violently, further damaging itself. "Dammit! How is this even possible?!" Frustrated, Ismoken chased after it. His robe was tattered, his body covered in cuts and bruises. Because he had held back, trying not to damage the weapon, he had taken hit after hit. Bang! Bang! Bang! But the Dragon Cannon itself was crumbling. It could no longer withstand the immense mana surging from within. Seeing it fall apart, Ismoken's urgency intensified. How was he supposed to transport it now? The Empire's secret weapon was truly formidable. He had to secure it and uncover its secrets. But then... he noticed something odd. "The broken parts... are just ordinary metal and wood?" They seemed hastily nailed together, almost as if... As if someone had deliberately made it look like a real weapon. As confusion crept into his mind, the Dragon Cannon suddenly stopped moving. "What? Why did it stop? Is it broken? Did it run out of mana?" Since he didn’t know how it functioned, he had no way of knowing why it had stopped. If it was truly broken, then everything he had endured was for nothing. All he could do now was hope that it had merely run out of power—not completely failed. Ghislain narrowed his eyes. "So, I just need to drag this thing away, take care of the remaining ones, and disappear quickly." It was a relief that the weapon was still intact. Ismoken gathered his energy, preparing to bind the war machine and pull it along. “Hm?” Ismoken's expression twisted in confusion. When he tried to pull it with his energy, something inside the wheels resisted. “What... what is this?” Was there some sort of barrier keeping it in place? Was it actually sentient? Feeling the absurdity of the situation, Ismoken exerted more force. Finally, the war machine began to move—just slightly. Rumble... As the distance between Ismoken and the Dragon Cannon shrank, his gaze darkened. The entire situation felt off. The weapon—it almost seemed alive. Then, a voice echoed from inside the Dragon Cannon. "Feels nice to be caught?" "...A weapon... is talking?" "Shall we get started for real now?" “...?” For a moment, Ismoken’s thoughts halted. BOOM! The Dragon Cannon was utterly destroyed from within as a figure burst out. "What the—" Ismoken’s face contorted in pure disbelief. He had never even considered the possibility that someone could be inside. Ghislain closed the distance in an instant, swinging his staff with crushing force. BANG! “Guh!” Ismoken coughed up blood as he was violently flung backward. The attack was so sudden that he hadn’t had the time to properly reinforce himself. Ghislain tilted his head slightly, an intrigued expression crossing his face. "Now this is interesting. You're different." This one wasn’t like the high priests of the Salvation Order he had fought in the past. “You... you’re truly a Transcendent.” His opponent wasn’t some half-baked warrior pretending to be one. The way he moved, even in an instant, was the mark of someone properly trained for battle. Ismoken wiped the blood from the corner of his lips, his stance firm as he spoke. “...I don’t understand.” “What? Surprised that I’m the Empire’s new secret weapon?” “No. I fail to understand why you were hiding inside there.” The destructive power of the Dragon Cannon was comparable to that of a 7th-Circle mage. It was precisely because of that that no one would ever suspect a person was inside. A being who had surpassed the limits of humanity—an arrogant, self-assured mage at that—had spent days pretending to be a war machine? Not a single person on the continent would believe such madness. A true Transcendent would never stoop to such a thing. Their pride, their very identity, would never allow it. And yet, one had done exactly that. Ismoken simply couldn’t comprehend it. Ghislain let out a small chuckle. "Why was I hiding? Because I was waiting for someone curious enough to take the bait." “...Surely you don’t mean—” “That’s right. You. Do you have any idea how miserable it was to stay crouched inside that thing for days?" "You... you're telling me you stayed inside for days? Deceiving everyone in the process?" "That's exactly what I did. What, does that seem strange to you?" “You... do you have no pride as a Transcendent?” "I don’t bother with useless pride." “...” Ismoken’s expression turned ice-cold as he glared at Ghislain. The strange nature of his opponent’s personality wasn’t the issue here. What was important was something else entirely. He had never left a trace. Every operation he had ever carried out had been successful. The conflict between Count Boneto and Count Schwarz had unfolded exactly as he had orchestrated. So how could someone have deliberately set a trap targeting him? "Did you know who I was when you set this trap? This wasn’t just a general bait for instigators, was it?" Had he simply been another opportunist, or someone looking to cause trouble, this trap would have never worked. For this to succeed, the target had to need the war machine. Did his opponent actually know that? Ghislain answered indifferently. "High Priest of the Salvation Order." “...” "Did I get it wrong?" “...How did you know?” "I've fought your kind before. The only ones who pull these kinds of stunts from the shadows... are you people." Ismoken’s breath hitched. This shouldn’t be possible. The Salvation Order had avoided direct conflict with anyone. They had meticulously weakened the surrounding kingdoms while remaining hidden. There had been no signs of exposure. No reports of compromised agents. Yet now, he was caught. ‘There’s something I don’t know...’ “Damn it.” It didn’t matter how his opponent had found out—he would make him talk. And on top of that... he would pay for mocking him with such a pathetic trap. Hwooooom... Dark energy surged from Ismoken’s body, tendrils of black mist slithering outward. He was furious. He had been made a fool of, playing along unknowingly inside a war machine that was nothing but a sham. It was humiliating beyond belief. Now that he knew the truth, there was no longer any need to hold back. He would crush his opponent with sheer overwhelming power and make him spill every secret. FWOOOOM! The black energy shot forward toward Ghislain in thick, concentrated waves. Ghislain swung his staff in response. Tat-tat-tat-tat! Each strike landed with precision, detonating the dark energy before it could reach him. But Ismoken’s attack didn’t stop there. The shattered remnants of his energy swirled unnaturally, as if they had a will of their own, twisting through the air to target Ghislain’s blind spots. “Hah. Not bad.” Ghislain genuinely admired the technique. Ismoken’s combat style was impressive. The level of training behind it was evident. The Salvation Order had stagnated for far too long, unable to hone their skills in real combat. Their ceaseless battle against humans, demons, and their own dwindling numbers had kept them from evolving. But Ismoken... he was different. Kakakakaka! With a single hand, Ghislain spun his staff to deflect the incoming attacks. With the other, he traced a magic circle into the air. FWOOOOOM! Dozens of fireballs erupted from the spell formation, colliding ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) mid-air with the remnants of Ismoken’s dark energy, creating a chain of violent explosions. The battlefield trembled as the shockwaves cleared the smoke. “...Impossible,” Ismoken muttered. This was no ordinary mage. As a high priest of the Salvation Order, he had undergone extensive training. He knew how to fight mages. He knew how to fight knights. He carried with him the wisdom and experience of countless predecessors. He had been certain that, unless his opponent was an exceptionally powerful Transcendent, he would never lose in a one-on-one fight. Yet here he was. His opponent had effortlessly defended against his assault. “Kh...” A master of both close combat and magic? No, he had never even heard of such a thing. He had never even considered it a possibility. Ghislain’s staff suddenly burned with a bright blue glow. With a light-hearted chuckle, he stepped closer to Ismoken. “Not bad, but it’s not enough. You don’t seem to have much real combat experience, do you? Why don’t you stop running and actually fight?” “You insolent—!” Fury twisted Ismoken’s expression as he drew forth more of his energy. A thick black mist engulfed his body, surging outward as his arms extended unnaturally, his limbs morphing into long, blade-like forms. BOOM! He slammed his foot into the ground and lunged, his transformed arms slashing down toward Ghislain like twin swords. CLANG! The moment their weapons clashed, a shockwave blasted outward, sending stone and dirt flying in every direction. Ismoken’s bladed arms pressed fiercely against Ghislain’s staff, trying to carve through it. But the blue light surrounding the weapon held firm. “So, you’ve picked up quite a few tricks. Are all high priests this skilled?” Ghislain mused. “Shut up!” BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Ismoken’s attacks intensified, each strike growing more aggressive. His left arm shot forward, aiming for Ghislain’s ribs. “You may know some hand-to-hand techniques, but you’ve made a mistake. I am stronger in close combat!” “Oh yeah? Then I guess I’ll back off.” Ghislain smirked. As if he had expected the attack, he drove one end of his staff into the ground and used it as leverage, flipping himself backward to dodge the strike. At the same time, he raised a hand. KRA-KOOM! A bolt of lightning cracked down from the sky, striking Ismoken directly. “...Hrk—?!” The instant the electricity coursed through him, a thought flashed through Ismoken’s mind. ‘I’ve been tricked again.’