The Camellia Tattoo - Chapter 124
“What do you mean ‘scheme’? I have no such thing…!”
“Ah, I see. You’re only talking after I inflict some pain.”
Igmeyer began to get serious, striking the center of the barrier with his sword.
The immense strength of the blow shattered the pale green divine power, landing a solid hit on Mikael.
“!”
Blood spurted out.
Mikael, who had regenerated the barrier just 0.1 seconds slower than the blade cut through his arm, grimaced and staggered.
“My arm… How dare you… You lowly—!”
A searing pain surged through him. With his eyes wide in rage, Mikael ground out a defiant retort.
Igmeyer shrugged casually.
“It’s a pity that it’s something precious of yours. It’s going to break today.”
Igmeyer’s offhand remark elicited laughter from the knights.
The High Priest was about to die here.
Some of the knights didn’t understand why but didn’t intervene. There must have been a reason for Igmeyer’s actions.
“…Great tree.”
“Hoh?”
“Death between branches!”
Cornered, Mikael finally recited the incantation. The place wasn’t perfect, but it couldn’t be helped.
Just a moment ago, he had been pleased that everything would be left to Iona if he died, but now, it seemed he had forgotten all that in his desperation, shouting with frenzied determination. It was a pitifully desperate act.
“Howling wyrm, grasping hand…. walking soul turned backward!”
As Mikael chanted, Igmeyer’s eyes grew progressively redder.
Watching them ignite like the eyes of a dragon, Mikael gritted his teeth.
It seemed like he was almost there.
The wind from Igmeyer’s blade pushed him back, preventing him from finishing his incantation, but he clearly saw it in his eyes.
Black scales begin to sprout on Igmeyer’s cheeks.
“Your Grace, are you alright!”
“Gah, horns… horns are growing…!”
Several knights gasped, growing anxious. Gallard, who was carrying the massive bastard sword, slammed it into the ground.
“Be quiet. The Grand Duke is in the middle of something important.”
“Yes. Yes…”
Whether the growing horns were an issue for the Grand Duke or part of Mikael’s scheme was still unclear.
With Gallard, the vice-commander, remaining calm, the knights quickly composed themselves.
Although the horns resembled those of Nidhogg from the stories, and the black scales seemed identical to Nidhogg’s, everyone remained silent.
“Burning body. The one who spreads broken wings.! Now, submit to me, Nidhogg!”
In the silence, Mikael’s frenzied cry erupted.
Pausing and letting his sword droop, Igmeyer narrowed his eyes and muttered.
“It seems you know one thing but not the other.”
Did it work?
Was he deceived?
If it had worked, Igmeyer should have lost his sanity and transformed into Nidhogg immediately… so why was he still in a half-human, half-dragon state?
Though the question didn’t escape his lips, Igmeyer read it from Mikael’s expression and responded indifferently.
“The final words of that incantation must be spoken by me.”
Crack!
At the end of Igmeyer’s calm statement, the sword swung and shattered the pale green barrier.
With a force so brutal it was almost mindless, the sword came crashing down on Mikael’s head.
Smack!
It wasn’t just a cut.
It was more like a blow that killed him.
The blow was delivered with the same indifference as killing an insect, and Mikael’s head burst open.
With the brain matter splattered on the ground, Igmeyer frowned.
‘Now he can no longer use his tongue.’
Death is such a convenient tool!
What was once alive and scheming becomes completely useless once breath ceases.
He always found it satisfying to see that.
‘But… how does he know the spell for transforming into Nidhogg?’
That’s one of Niflheim’s greatest secrets—one of the most tightly guarded secrets.
‘I haven’t even told Amber about it.’
In reality, Niflheim…
Has been a land where successive Grand Dukes transform into the dragon themselves, passing the title from generation to generation.
When the Grand Duke’s son comes of age, the aging Grand Duke crosses the sea and transforms into Nidhogg. Then, the old Nidhogg is consumed, and the new Nidhogg emerges.
Wailing tears mixed with blood.
This has been the way the North has sustained itself until now.
‘But why does this person, who was born and raised in the capital and has never been to the North, mention the spell for transforming into Nidhogg?’
It’s unclear.
He wondered if he should have kept Mikael alive to investigate further, but someone like Mikael would never easily reveal anything.
Moreover, with Mikael’s obsessive nature and his tendency to handle things personally rather than delegating, he likely hadn’t confided in anyone else about this.
With Mikael dead, the spell would be buried once more. How he discovered it would be a question for another time.
‘Since I left Raphael behind, Amber should be safe.’
Wiping the blood from his blade as if it were mere grime, Igmeyer looked up at the gray sky. Meanwhile, some of the knights who had been with Igmeyer for a long time quietly carried out their duties.
Nidhogg. The dragon that deserved to die.
