For Sale. Fallen Lady. Never Used.-Chapter 349: Scales (5)

Punishment.

Despite its somewhat arrogant name, it was a spell I was confident had the power to match.

It was created with the traditional magician position in mind, not one who fights on the front lines but someone who takes time to thrust a lance from the back.

It was an extreme spell where all aspects, like mana efficiency or practicality, were sacrificed for sheer firepower.

The structure was simple.

It forcibly combined a high-level light attribute spell, enhanced by the Blessing of the Sun God, with a well-known powerful high-level fire attribute spell through elemental fusion and then dropped it. Amplifying all this through resonance and charging was an added benefit.

…Yes, the structure was simple, but actually performing it was quite hard. Not only did it consume mana equivalent to five high-level spells at once, but without connecting the magic formulas with verbal command, it wouldn’t have been possible to even attempt it.

However, since it was created by me, who already had the ability to project superior power compared to others of my level, and now as a high mage, its effect was certain.

Gooong.

With the incantation, a gigantic magic circle was inscribed in the sky. From within it, a colossal white sword of light slowly revealed itself.

Calling it a sword, it was massive enough to match the size of a building. Around the brightly shining blade, blue flames licked like tongues.

It looked like a dragon enveloping a giant sword.

Even though only half of it had emerged, the sense of oppression was no joke, perhaps because such a vast amount of mana was poured into it.

The Grotesque Proliferation, who usually takes even mid-level spells in stride even in an irregular possession state, seemed to consider this one dangerous, closing their incessantly chattering mouth to focus on defense.

[This bold thing…!]

The body of the unnamed cultist, which was melting, suddenly swelled up and then exploded with the sound of a bursting leather sack.

Pffft!

Blood spurted like a fountain, with chunks of meat spreading out.

I thought it might be another one of those disgusting meat trees, but what emerged this time went beyond my expectations.

Instead of rising solidly, flesh opened like petals on either side. Probably, what you’re thinking is correct.

A giant vagina, unnecessarily pretty in appearance, swallowed my spell! As naturally as sheathing a sword into its scabbard!

“Gasp…! That’s!”

“Our master has opened the vagina of Archdeacon Risyllote!”

“Look at that cavernous depth! With this, even the mightiest cock would melt away!”

The succubi were spouting nonsense as if they had lost a few screws.

What? It would melt?

“Bullshit!”

I’d bet that unless they projected their power through a formal apostle or descended in their true form, no one could block my spell.

That was why I confidently named it Punishment.

As the giant sword was being sucked into what was presumably Risyllote’s insides, I shouted.

“[Explode…!]”

Responding to my will, the sword blazed so brightly it could blind you. The flames surrounding it began to spin faster and faster until a sound of something going awry could be heard.

Zzaaang.

The two spells, forcibly fused by verbal command, started to repel each other.

The light rejected the flame, and the flame, in turn, began to flicker more violently to consume that light.

Even without using space-time magic, the vision distorted. As the concentrated force exceeded its limit, the Grotesque Proliferation hurriedly tried to cover my spell with tentacles, but…

It couldn’t be completely blocked.

Kwaahhh!!

With a tremendous roar, the world flashed white. The hot air and trembling ground came late.

Even with the protection of the Circulating Life’s barrier and Yggdrasil’s walls, there was this much impact. How must it feel for those who had to take it head-on?

First of all, the flesh and tentacles that had covered the giant sword had vanished entirely, leaving no trace.

A large, visible gap had formed in the once densely packed forces.

Usually, high-level spells were called siege spells. They had the power to bring down even a wall covered with all sorts of protective spells if struck correctly.

But what about the spell from a moment ago? Even though they hadn’t fully exerted their power, this was the result when the Grotesque Proliferation themselves stepped in.

If Punishment had been used in a siege, it might have obliterated half the castle, not just the wall.

From the cowards who were afraid of becoming the Grotesque Proliferation’s toys, to the soldiers who stood on the battlefield but felt they couldn’t win, to the cultists who saw their God as an absolute being.

Both enemies and allies stood there, mouths agape.

It’s not quite at the level of a miracle, but it’s far too powerful to be lumped together with just high-level spells. Then, what should we call this?

…Such thoughts were vividly reflected in their expressions.

The moment when factions, clearly divided by frenzied lust, resignation, and fear, united in awe.

Now, it seemed we could fight.

Of course, turning the tide like this required a significant cost.

My body, even in Dragon Transformation, which should be overflowing with power to the point of feeling omnipotent, was now limp.

Although I still had about 60% of my mana left, the maximum mana output was another issue.

By focusing solely on increasing the power, I had to expend five times the mana of an ordinary high-level spell at once.

No matter how special my body was, this was bound to be taxing.

Moreover, forcing a spell that wouldn’t normally work with verbal command also consumed a lot of mental energy.

However, despite all these considerations, now was the opportunity.

To not show any sign of fatigue, I stood straight, looking down at the battlefield.

I opened my eyes wide, like those of a reptile, to exude an aura of power, releasing Dragon Fear with all my might.

Like a small animal puffing up to look bigger, I was inflating my presence to the maximum.

Hoping they would feel the same sense of helplessness I felt when facing a God or the terror before a Sword Master’s blade.

Did it work? Feeling the stunned gazes even from afar, I gave a leisurely smirk.

“[Listen well, you bastards.]”

I infused my voice with mana and will, using verbal command, ensuring my voice, touched by mystique, would be etched into their minds like the divine words of the Grotesque Proliferation.

“[I do not listen to those weaker than myself!]”

They looked puzzled, wondering what this sudden statement meant. But one should always hear a statement to the end.

“[And the current Grotesque Proliferation… as you just saw, is weaker than me.]”

I sensed irritation from the cultists who had been dazed. However, those jumping around now posed no real threat to me.

The ones to be cautious of were at least at the Cardinal level. I was probing them, but the truly strong ones were only watching me cautiously.

I turned my gaze to Iona, who was holding a red thorn spear a bit away.

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“…….”

Iona shook her head slightly without a word.

Tsk.

Iona was ready to snipe with Chepesu if someone got too excited and used a big technique, but it seemed that wasn’t going to happen.

Still, this was quite successful as an initial psychological blow.

I drank two bottles of top-grade mana potion from my inventory one after the other to restore my mana.

Woong.

With the mana prepared to cast any spell at any moment, I shouted.

“[I won’t speak, but you’re listening, Grotesque Proliferation! You wanted to make me your apostle, right?]”

Taking a deep breath, I expelled the air in my lungs in one go.

“[I’ll make a counteroffer. Become my slave, and I’ll spare your life!]”

“…You? You’re not serious, are you? You’re just saying that, right? Even if you’re obsessed with fallen slaves, you wouldn’t take in an Evil God, would you?”

I let Elisha’s genuinely worried words from behind slide as I continued.

“[Well, I don’t need non-virgin slaves, though.]”

I shrugged lightly and nodded to Iona, who was ready to throw her spear.

“Alright, then switch to the area type… let’s go! Bloom, Chepesu!”

Iona, with her arm bent back to its limit, thrust it forward while shouting the trigger word.

The thorn spear, leaving only a red streak in the air, flew into the startled enemy ranks in an instant.

And then, it bloomed spectacularly.

Krrack!

The blood flower, blooming by consuming the blood of nearby creatures, held a bewitching charm reminiscent of its owner.

However, since they were followers of the Grotesque Proliferation, who also deal in seduction, they quickly regained their senses.

But the faces of those who had been humiliated repeatedly no longer showed the same ease as before.

There was some excitement left, but their momentum was clearly less than before.

Perhaps thinking that further delay would do no good, the cultists, in what could be called clothing or underwear, shouted in unison.

“Brothers and sisters! Rape the men, rape the women! Make them bear as many as we’ve killed! In the name of the Mother with a thousand breasts and a thousand cocks!”

It sounded like the Great War, thought to have ended 300 years ago, was starting again.

…Though it was somewhat vulgar for such an occasion.