Our Last Crusade or the Rise of a New World, Vol. 9 by Kei Sazane and Ao Nekonabe

Author:Kei Sazane and Ao Nekonabe [Sazane, Kei and Nekonabe, Ao]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Yen On
Published: 2022-06-21T00:00:00+00:00

The Empire. Visgehten, capital of the fourth state.

This was where the one and only “unburied” vortex within the Empire had been preserved.

Astral power was originally taboo. Though the Imperial forces had destroyed all the vortices the Empire discovered, here in this province, one remained scrupulously preserved under the auspices of Omen, collective of geniuses.

All the information related to astral power that existed within the Empire rested here.

“Hey there, Nameless. How are you doing today?”

“You asked me that three hours ago.”

“It seems you are cognizant, then. We have been inspecting your arm within this specialized astral power private room for three hours, after all.”

The examination room was filled with bluish-white light. A jubilant voice and the sound of footsteps echoed against the room’s opal tiles.

“Michaela, the chart, if you could?”

“Chief Newton.”

“What is it?”

“You already have it in your hand.”

“Oh my. It seems you’re right. I was so lost in thought, I’d forgotten about it. Like when you’re looking for your glasses while they’re on your face.”

When the female medical officer dressed in office attire pointed that out, the mustachioed chief smiled wanly.

Saint Disciple of the tenth seat and head of the laboratory, Sir Karosos Newton.

His nickname was the “sickliest researcher.” The man’s shoulders and limbs looked as though they would snap against the slightest of breezes. They betrayed the fact he was an exception—a civilian among the members of the world’s greatest military force, the Saint Disciples.

He waved a hand at his colleague, who sat on a bed.

“So. I’ll ask again. How do you feel, Nameless?”

“…………”

There was something unusual about the other man’s appearance. He was clothed in a dark-gray coat suit from head to toe. His face was hidden, and it was unlikely anyone could even put a stethoscope to his chest. He didn’t look like a patient undergoing an examination at all.

“…My wounds sting.”

Nameless. The eighth seat of the Saint Disciples attempted to lift his exposed, muscular right arm. It barely moved an inch. He lifted his shoulder ever so slightly, but that was all he could manage. Manipulating his hands or fingers was beyond him.

“The plan to capture the queen. Growley, some old-timer who heads the Zoa household, flooded me with astral power, and this is the result. How many times must I explain?”

His right limb was covered in deep-purple bruises.

Though they looked like burns, in actuality, they were the symptoms of a corrosive astral power illness produced by the Vice astral power.

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