A Transmigrator’s Privilege-Chapter 223
"......?"
Huh? Cause and effect? [ The protagonist is being changed.]
What? [ The transmigrator ‘Ayleth Rodeline’ seizes the position of protagonist.]
What? [ You are now freed from the influence of the original work ‘Returning Until the World is Saved.’]
[ The genre deviation penalty has ended.]
"......"
What just happened?
As I blinked, still in confusion, the voices of the gods echoed in.
[‘Creator of the Economic System’ says the genre change ticket is not priced at 10 billion cash for nothing.]
[‘The Spirit That Builds Worlds’ calmly smiles, reminding you that as long as you avoid BL, you're good to go.]
[‘The Scales of Judging Souls’ congratulates you, saying that now that the original work is gone, the condition ‘If you pursue a romance not in the original, you will face loss’ is also gone.]
"......Ah."
The gears in my brain, which had been grinding to a halt, began turning again. Only then did I realize the incredible possibility that had opened up.
The refreshing wind that rushed in from the vast, clear sky wrapped around me from head to toe. [ Congratulations, Ayleth Rodeline. You are now the protagonist who can save the world.]
It felt like the first greeting of a new world.
✠
Two moons hung in the night sky.
A blood-red full moon and a crescent moon with a broken blue curve. Neither of them resembled a complete celestial body.
The two distorted moons turned the dark blue sky into an abstract canvas.
This place, like the sky, had a grotesque landscape below.
A tent-like structure with bright primary blue and yellow stripes.
It resembled a circus tent, and the bodies of pierrots and marionette undead lay strewn about in rows.
There were countless numbers of them.
It would not be an exaggeration to say the entire circus had become a demonic graveyard.
Amidst the carnage, one human stood tall.
A man dressed in leather pants that wrapped tightly around his long, muscular legs, paired with a white shirt.
His austere attire seemed out of place in such a chaotic scene filled with loud costumes and props.
However, torn from a long battle, his shirt revealed glimpses of a leather belt.
Standing atop the pile of bodies, instead of a conqueror’s flag, he drove his sword into the ground.
A brilliant blue holy light erupted from the white sword, burning the demon corpses around him.
Suddenly, the wind blew. A cold breeze swept over his body, tousling his silver hair.
Despite the teasing of the wind, his delicate features, like those of a masterwork, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) maintained a neutral expression.
While he gazed meaninglessly into the air, something stirred in his deep blue eyes.
"Ah."
He raised his left arm. As he rolled up his sleeve, the inside of his forearm revealed white holy scars, wrapped in black thorny chains.
The chains disintegrated into ash, falling away.
"Golden Seal..."
The binding force that had restrained him had finally been completely released.
It seemed that the act of creating a massacre among the demons had been judged as a great act of virtue.
Blood began flowing rapidly through his veins. Deep within his body, the closed gates inside him burst open.
The power of the 99th cycle, before his fall from grace, surged out, covering his entire body.
He exhaled slowly, calming his energy.
By that time, a third moon appeared on the horizon. It was a melting purple crescent moon.
When the moon of Abicinesis crosses the meridian, Walpurgis Night begins.
The appearance of three moons on the same canvas caused a disturbance in the Demon Realm.
From the earth’s surface, green mist began to rise.
It was poisonous.
The disturbance in the Demon Realm would soon affect the mortal realm.
Before long, poison would begin to leak out of dungeon gates across various countries, causing a phenomenon known as Dungeon Drain.
This poisonous, sickly green mist would infect human respiratory systems.
By the time Walpurgis Night arrived, a terrible plague would spread.
Soon, the demon corpses were all burnt away. Tesilid, having completed the blue pyre, retrieved his holy sword.
"We should start hunting soon."
Chapter 37: Master and Disciple
The great chapel of the Holy Office, adorned with stained glass, was where two women, with a noticeable age difference, stood facing each other, surrounded by knightly guards.
"Did you seek me out, Your Holiness Pope Senedic?"
"Welcome, Saint Muriel."
The pope, who had just risen from illness, scanned the young woman he had summoned with his eyes.
A young woman with long black hair and mysterious eyes, colored in blue and gold.
She was a saint who had rapidly solidified her position within the Holy Office.
Her noble demeanor and kind smile were beautiful. She resembled the saintly figures depicted in fairy tale illustrations.
‘To think such a woman came from a peasant's daughter...’
Though her appearance seemed like she was born to be a saint, Muriel Filiže hailed from a rural village at the foot of Mount Elteo.
When I asked the villagers about Muriel, they spoke of her with reverence, praising her as a virtuous girl who took care of a senile elderly couple with great devotion.
Perhaps it was the impact of her kindness that moved the gods.
Muriel awakened her 8th-tier divine power and came to the Holy Office under the guidance of Clovis.
Described as mysterious by some, or suspicious by others, she was a woman with an aura of mystery.
Senedict cleared his mind and spoke.
"I have something urgent to discuss. I called for you, Saint Muriel."
"Please speak, Your Holiness."
"Recently, a prophecy has been delivered that a great disaster is about to strike the world."
Muriel's golden eyes widened. With a shocked expression, she asked.
"A prophecy? Did you receive it yourself, Your Holiness?"
"No. It was from a being close to the gods."
"Close to the gods? Who might that be?"
Muriel’s gaze subtly shifted. From her perspective, this was a ridiculous statement.
No one, in her mind, could be closer to the ‘strict order and goodness’ than herself.
At that moment, Senedict casually mentioned.
"I cannot give you more details. But one thing... "
"..."
"This being is known as ‘The Darkness Conceived by Light.’ Please keep that in mind."
"...The Darkness Conceived by Light?"
The title carried a somewhat ambiguous meaning.
However, Senedict did not offer a reply. Instead, he returned to the original purpose of their meeting.
If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.
Senedict rummaged through the ample sleeves of his ceremonial robes and pulled something out.
It seemed the robe was connected to an extra-dimensional storage. He finally revealed the long object he had retrieved.
"Here, Saint Muriel."
"This is...?"
Senedict handed Muriel a flagpole adorned with a cross banner.
This was the artifact Ayleth had obtained after defeating Helkaion.
Ayleth had promised to return the artifact to the Holy Office in exchange for a three-day exemption from religious duties.
Senedict explained.
"The name of this artifact is ‘Sanctuary Construction.’ It creates a protective zone inside a dungeon to keep allies safe."
"Why are you giving me such a precious item?"
"The being who gave the prophecy said it would soon be needed. Since you are currently the most powerful person in the Holy Office, Saint Muriel, I wish to entrust this to you."
This choice was inevitable. Activating Sanctuary Construction required an immense amount of divine power or mana.
The weight of the artifact matched the heavy responsibility it carried.
Muriel looked down at the artifact in her hands, contemplating.
After a moment, she carefully spoke.
"Your Holiness."
"Yes, Saint Muriel?"
"Could I meet the ‘Darkness Conceived by Light’?"
"If that being wishes to meet you, you will be called."
It was a polite refusal.
"You may leave now, Saint Muriel."
"...Yes, Your Holiness."
Muriel, holding the artifact, turned and left through the entrance.
The massive wooden doors closed, and silence fell over the great chapel.
Senedict, with a solemn expression, spoke quietly.
"The disaster will soon arrive. Wailing will fill the night sky."
She stood up and headed toward the prayer room. Preparations for the requiem had to be made.
The last message I received from Tesilid was about becoming a wanted criminal, and since then, there had been no further news.
I had purchased the genre change ticket, but for some reason, the notebook did not even contain a short survival report.
I was worried, but I didn’t let myself get consumed by fear.
The genre deviation penalty was definitely over. He would be safe.
For now, I had to focus on doing everything I could to reunite with him.
Before Walpurgis Night arrived, there was about ten days of dungeon time left.
I decided to use that time to start intense aura master training with Agnes.
Thus, I spent the next five days eating, sleeping, and sparring at the top of the dungeon.
And now...
"I must not have the talent for this..."
I was digging into the ground.
The various techniques that combined Agnes’ unorthodox swordsmanship and aura blade.
I could almost draw them on paper, I had seen them so much. But there was not even a hint of understanding.
The barrier to mastery was huge and unyielding, with no sign of a crack.
In fact, I wasn’t even sure if I had reached that barrier yet.
Maybe I was too quick to think I had arrived at the barrier.
To be honest, the reason I even grasped aura at all was thanks to the aura master package.
It was all a result of the transmigrator benefits provided by the system, not my own talent.
Is this where my limits lie?
Agnes let out a clear, amused laugh as if she had heard a joke. This was too much.
I muttered silently to the gods in my mind.
‘It would’ve been great if the genre was martial arts. Then, I could’ve received a training slap from my master or happened to eat an immortality herb and undergo a transformation... I’d get strong right away...’ [‘The Creator of the Economic System’ lights up, asking if you want to buy another genre change ticket.]
The privilege for the transmigrator.
