Chapter 301: 301 It's a little bit more than a little bit more than...

I felt a lump of ice crawling on the underside of my skin. It wriggled around the inside of my limbs and gradually began to ascend towards the top of my body.

It danced and sang with gaiety. And yet, it never stopped moving, a wriggling mass of ice.

It was now obvious where it was going. If you run up your body like a mountain, you'll end up where you're supposed to.

The skull. That's the brain.

Fialaert-la-Volgograd dropped to his knees, seeking heat at the touch of the brain's spinal cord itself being frozen, its nerves transformed into something solid.

His stomach became as cold and heavy as iron, and his body hardened incessantly.

It was as if his limbs and body itself had turned to ice. It wouldn't be long before this cold air would take over my brain as well. Such a strange conviction filled Fialaat's thoughts.

Cold, cold, painful, scary.

I want heat, even if it's just a little piece. I don't want to be cold, I don't want to be cold. I can't stop thinking about those days.

When I had nothing. When I had done everything I could but never reached my talent or even mediocrity.

I had to work harder than others, clench my teeth so hard I thought they would crumble, and still I could only watch someone else's back.

I was miserable. I was humiliated. Why do I have nothing? Why do I have to walk around with my face turned down in such misery?

How many times have I thought that? This coldness is from those days. There was no one to help me, and I had nothing. I bit down on a stone and forced myself to get up, and every time I did, I got kicked down.

I was cold, cold. But I can't cling to anything. I feel like I'm going to freeze to death on my knees.

"You can rest easy. I'll give you relief. I will fill you up.

I hear a sound. Sweet and gentle, echoing through my heart and ears.

Fialaat felt like her soul was melting away. His fingertips, which had become cold stone, were now slightly heated and conveying his joy.

Happiness is there. The concept of salvation was manifesting itself in form. That is, it is light itself.

Fialaert's slender fingers reached for the light with a gentle gesture.

Quickly, as quickly as possible. Just for happiness and salvation.

It's no longer a simple suggestion. It was a form of worship and faith. Believe and you will be saved as a result.

There was no way to resist. Its presence directly engulfs the brain and invades the human spirit. I don't know if it's good or evil. But there was an overwhelming individual in her that could do just that.

Artius the Redeemer.

The overwhelming majesty is right in front of Fialaat's eyes. The very sight in his vision was white and blurred.

But there was no fear. There was only peace. Something tells me that's okay. I've been down this road before anyway.

My fingers, they grow. Growing. Moving forward--that's what I was doing. I see something black at the edge of my vision. A blackness that writhed like a shadow.

Simultaneously, Fialat's ears caught a sound. A familiar voice that seemed to have come from somewhere far away. The voice was aloof, yet it carried a deep weight that made his black eyes open.

"Many a time I have licked my lips with bitterness and spoken contempt. Yes, I can't help it. After all, I am the have-not.

Where did I hear that voice? Where did I hear it? When did I hear it?

The light around me clouded slightly, and the shadows twisted their bodies in a funny way. It was as if a piece of night had crept in.

Yes, the night. That night, in Garouamalia.

"Then there's only one way to go.

Lugis said. The darkness leaps at the light.

"The have-nots must walk the thorny path with bare feet and wash their hands and feet in their own blood. "The have-nots must walk barefoot on the thorny path and wash their hands and feet in their own blood. I will not live another day of resignation and inertia on a path that everyone else has trod.

Yes, that's right. That night, Lugis said that and reached out his hand to me...

Before long, as if laughing at everything, the shadow stepped over the light, and so was right beside Fialaat. The shadow's outline reminded him slightly of his own.

Fialaert noticed that his own cheeks had lifted up surprisingly. The euphoria that had been filling his heart was dissipating into a mist. But only the glowing heat remained.

The cold was nowhere to be found.

Yes, I am the have-not. But I don't want to spend my life watching the backs of the haves. How can I be satisfied with the happiness I've been given at the mercy of the few?

I heard my fingers creak. My nails are digging into the flesh of my palm. There is something I want. Something I want, no matter what else I throw away.

--Can't Phialat-la-Volgograd hold in her hands the one thing she wishes for? No, of course not!

Even if it's further away than here, I'll grab it. That's my complete happiness.

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Fialaat opens her eyelids slowly, too heavy. If he didn't keep his wits about him, he was going to fall asleep in no time at all.

It was only when the stone floor of the Great Temple came into view that Fialaat realized that he had lost consciousness.

His hands and feet were tied up in magical gear, and he could not seem to get free. Well, I'm lying down.

Huh, why?

As my eyes flickered, I saw Kalia's silver hair bouncing in front of me, and the figure of Elddis just behind it. My still-awake mind couldn't make sense of it all, but from the words being exchanged, it seemed that they were talking about how to get out of here.

What was it? What was going on? Fialaert's skull creaked, clouding his thoughts. What was going on and how did it come to this?

Fialaat's blurred thoughts traced back to his memories with a leisurely gait.

As I recall, I came face to face with the saint and tried to hold her back because of Rougis, and so...

--I am Artius, the divine spirit, and I give you absolute happiness.

I met it. Click, click, click.

That's right, I met the threat, and that's how I got entangled.

When he finally came to his senses, Fialat felt his cheeks naturally flush with shame. His eyes were moist and his bitten teeth were making a strange sound.

So you're saying that you've been captured by the enemy, and you've lost consciousness?

How awkward. What a shame. I stood before the enemy in high spirits to prevent them from interfering with Lugis' decision. Instead of being upset by the enemy's words, he was distracted and now he is trapped in a magical device like this.

Looking at her current state, she was probably rescued by either Caria or Erdis.

However, this fact made Fialaat's skin blush even more, as it brought out her gratitude.

Not only had he failed to help Lugis, but he had also dragged his friends down with him. Fialat's dark eyes narrowed in shame.

Shameful. If I could enter the darkness unseen, I'd rather be locked up there. The fact that the magical gear was still entangled in his limbs and wouldn't let go was also pushing Fialaat's spirit even further.

Turning his gaze away from Caria and Erdis, Fialaert looked deeper into the Great Temple. At the far end, he saw an altar. It was the place where Lugis had used to stage his sword fights.

There is now something black sitting there. I guess you could call it a black sphere. The sphere was large enough to swallow a man.

That blackness is familiar to me. It was Erdis' curse mist. Though what Fyarad saw was much smaller.

But now it was there, in solid form. What kind of opponent could hold a tangible curse in place? What the hell is that?

There was a pause. As soon as the thought of its existence came to mind, a cutting chill hit Fialat's whole body.

Even from a distance, he could see that the black sphere was slightly unraveling. Then he thought he saw a flash of light between them.

Fialaat already knew what was lurking inside and what was being suppressed. It was like a hunch, but it didn't feel like it would come off.

In less than a few more moments, it would be crawling out of there. Fialat's skin felt the atmosphere around him tense to the extreme.

There was no time like the present to push it in once more.

So Fialaat did what he had to do, much faster than Kalia and Elddis could turn themselves around. After all, he was nearby. He had to clear his name.

He raised his body slightly, and thrust forward his hands, which were bound to his magical equipment.

I can't feel any power in my hands, and I don't feel like I can wield even a twig. If I tried to cast a spell, the magic would immediately dissipate.

But I have an idea. The procedure for this was already imprinted in Fialat's mind. After all, he had thought of that idea once before.

If a person is bound by magic gear, even if they use normal magic, the magic power will be sucked up and it will be meaningless.

--However, if the magical equipment releases more magic than the magic power dissipates, then the magic can be released.

Of course, it could not be called serious. It was not even a reckless methodology, it was truly lawless.

A magical device is like a needle forcibly inserted into the pathway that carries the magic of the magician and sips the power.

Daring to pour magic power into it is like opening a wound and spitting out blood. Your limbs are ripped open by the intense pain, and your organs writhe in agony from the backflow of magic power.

But... That's why Fialaat did it without any hesitation at all. After all, the words that had come from somewhere else were still ringing in his ears.

--The have-nots have no choice but to walk the thorny path with bare feet and wash their hands and feet in their own blood.

So let's do it. I can feel the magic running through my body in my hands. The blood vessels in his hands and feet were screaming and thrashing.

Magic casting -- battlefield magic.

The intensity raced toward the black sphere.

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