The sea breeze carries a salty tang. It’s only natural, given the salt mixed within. Some might find such a sea breeze refreshing, or claim it evokes the bitter taste of life’s turning points, but this didn’t apply to Aslan.
For Aslan, life wasn’t bitter—it was spicy. The 12 years added on top of the 19 were steeped in an almost incomprehensible fear and pain.
Still, there was a will that hadn’t broken, though even a blade needs something to cut against to sharpen itself.
For now, Aslan walked without pondering the twists and turns of life, his ears attuned to the distant sound of rushing water.
Their destination lay by the sea, reachable by following the river.
“—And then this old man here said, ‘Take your filthy hands off me, you bastards!’ So those guys asked, ‘What? What the hell is this lizard?’ And then I immediately threw my fist—”
Thus, as the sound of flowing water filled his ears, a booming voice reached him from behind while walking along the jungle trail.
The owner of the voice was Tiya Mal Clo, a companion of Aslan’s.
If someone were referred to as a master archer, one would typically imagine an assassin or sniper. However, Tiya completely defied such conventional imagery.
Her voice was thunderous, her build massive, and both her bow and arrows, along with the deafening sounds they produced, were formidable.
One might say Tiya was less akin to a sniper rifle and more like a cannon.
Consequently, travelers passing by Aslan’s group couldn’t help but glance back or be drawn to the loud voice.
Though Aslan generally disliked drawing unnecessary attention, he made no comment or request for quieter behavior this time around.
It wasn’t just Aslan; Tiya also knew Aslan wouldn’t reprimand her on this point.
Even mercenaries occasionally mingling among the passersby showed no signs of caution, chatting casually or greeting Aslan’s group with ease.
Geladridion, despite its reputation for poor security, displayed an almost unbelievable scene of peace in this independent city.
But this peace was neither false nor an illusion; it wasn’t a fleeting phenomenon either. The Tadambo Jungle, bordering the independent city of Hatun, was indeed a peaceful place.
Just as Angie was starting to feel a sense of dissonance, she glanced around to confirm her thoughts.
Phey, listening half-heartedly to Tiya’s boastful tales of adventure, stared silently at Aslan.
Ereta, humming a tune under her breath, strolled lightly around Aslan before catching Angie’s eye and giving her a small wink with a wave.
Lastly, Aslan blinked at Angie.
Finally, the girl approached Aslan.
Unlike the others in the group, the girl couldn’t comprehend this peace.
“Aslan.”
“Yeah?”
“Why is everyone… so… slack?”
The girl lacked the vocabulary to describe the lax demeanor currently exhibited by the group, making her question sound somewhat unintelligent.
Fortunately, the girl appeared young, and her age didn’t seem too far from her actual appearance.
Passing mercenaries, assuming her question came from a child, smiled gently as they moved on, while Aslan allowed a relaxed smile to grace his lips.
“Are we expecting priests next? Or some kind of monster?”
On the other hand, since the girl didn’t know the reason, she pressed Aslan, who responded calmly without showing any irritation.
“Or maybe thieves…”
“That won’t happen.”
Angie looked curiously at Aslan for cutting her off, and Aslan returned her gaze with a gentle smile.
“Here, the Tadambo Jungle is the forest of the independent city of Hatun.”
Unfamiliar with the name, Angie furrowed her brow slightly. Without knowing the location, reasoning became impossible, evident in her expression.
Aslan continued explaining while walking, ignoring the girl’s puzzled look.
“Hatun has an alliance with the City of Mages. It’s a city built through indirect and direct support from the top mages of the northern continent.”
“So?”
“The Tadambo Jungle, located on Hatun’s route, is covered by a large-scale magical enchantment, specifically from the Illusion School. It prevents anyone harboring hostility or ill intent from entering and instead causes them to lose their way.”
The girl’s eyes widened at this revelation.
To her, lacking knowledge about such magic, it sounded like something out of another world.
Ironically, Aslan, explaining Geladridion to a resident of Geladridion, chuckled softly with a faint smile.
“Is that how it works?” the girl nodded, then tilted her head.
“If that’s the case, why don’t other cities use the same thing? Why isn’t it used elsewhere?”
Angie asked this while glancing up at the sky, which was unusually dark, the sea breeze biting cold against her skin.
Aslan glanced at Angie briefly before looking ahead again. In the distance, the shadow of a city could faintly be seen beneath layered clouds.
The illusionary enchantment draped over the Tadambo Jungle was crafted directly by a legendary woman of magic, making it exclusive to Hatun, which bordered the City of Mages.
Replicating it elsewhere was simply impossible due to spatial, temporal, and resource constraints.
Of course, explaining the labor involved or the amount of mana required to construct the enchantment, or its intricate formation, wouldn’t make much sense to the girl.
Aslan simplified the explanation.
“It’s only possible in Hatun because it’s surrounded by the City of Mages, where mages are always abundant. Other places don’t have that many mages.”
Though the girl still seemed unconvinced, it was due to her lack of knowledge. Eventually, she stopped asking questions and looked upward with a pensive expression, driven by curiosity and regret to eventually acquire such knowledge.
“Huh.”
While trying to console herself by observing the strangely moving clouds, the girl suddenly gasped upon noticing something visually unsettling.
That exclamation spread quickly among the surrounding people. Turning their heads instinctively, they saw something appearing in the sky, causing them to gape in awe.
“What… what is that…!?”
When the most valiant wandering knight spoke, people noticed something falling from the sky. Soon after, the ground and heavens violently shook, and the sky split open.
Revealed between the rifts was an enormous finger.
Its mere appearance filled the sky, creating a spectacle akin to a vast curtain of colossal skin descending. Then, plunging into the sea, its size rendered the ocean insignificant.
Even though only a tiny portion—a fraction of the first joint of a human finger—was visible, it seemed to fill everyone’s entire field of vision.
!
The sea surged upward, resembling a tsunami, but only for a moment. The rising seawater vanished instantly, each droplet disappearing entirely as if absorbed into thin air.
Amidst this wondrous sight, someone spoke.
“The Veil of Mercy…!”
The Veil of Mercy.
Upon hearing the name, Aslan clenched his teeth amidst the revealed landscape.
Indeed, the colossal finger plunging into the sea was a fragment of the Veil of Mercy itself.
The Veil of Mercy was such a deity.
A powerful god capable of momentarily inserting its true form into Geladridion by sacrificing priests.
The creator of the immense line dividing the northern and southern continents and the frozen realm known as the “Distant World.”
A god embodying the death of the universe and the end of a dimension, emerging when death gained a form and self akin to dust.
The most potent evil deity.
The Veil of Mercy.
In the face of the pristine white death rising from the sea where its true form had struck, Aslan closed his mouth with a distressed expression.
Thus, the voice that followed wasn’t Aslan’s.
“You said we couldn’t enter.”
The voice belonged to the girl, Angie. Her tone carried a playful scolding rather than genuine criticism.
Of course, Aslan didn’t know everything, and he certainly had no idea how the current situation arose. Nonetheless, Angie teased him as the source of information.
With Aslan silent, Phey chattered beside Angie, her smugness palpable even without seeing her expression.
“Aslan makes mistakes sometimes. When he does, his ears turn red and he looks adorable.”
Aslan wasn’t sure whether he should cover his ears or ignore the comment.
“Look, his ears are all red.”
“Wow, it’s really true. How cute.”
“Even the brat has this side to him.”
As the group chimed in one by one, Aslan hastily covered his ears and quickened his pace, with the rest following close behind.
Thus, the group slipped away from the bewildered travelers and entered Hatun.
*
“Ship? Are you serious? How do you expect to launch a ship in this situation? You’re insane!”
Despite the sailor’s passionate words warranting irritation, Aslan merely apologized quietly and stepped back.
“Man, what a bunch of crazy bastards.”
At the ensuing insult, Angie wore an uncomfortable expression, but Aslan restrained her with an arm around her shoulder, sighing deeply.
Upon arriving in the city, the first thing Aslan and his group did was gather information while simultaneously arranging for a ship. They approached countless people, from fishermen and captains to wealthy individuals who merely owned ships, inquiring if they could set sail.
By the time the sun began to set and painted the city with deep crimson streaks, Aslan had received his 47th refusal.
That number matched the total number of individuals owning ships in the city, leaving Aslan aware that launching a ship was impossible.
Considering the nature and notoriety of the Veil of Mercy, it was unsurprising.
Of course, it was expected given that the Veil of Mercy was the most famous deity.
The Veil of Mercy established the great boundary separating the northern and southern continents, where the frozen remnants of an ancient empire slumbered untouched.
Simply put, the Veil of Mercy’s power was freezing. On a deeper level, it represented the end of everything and death, summarized as heat death.
Neither time nor space could escape the Veil of Mercy.
Like a ball trapped in congealing cheese.
Recalling the depiction of heat death from a point-and-click adventure game he once played, Aslan sighed.
He acted based on his personal belief that he shouldn’t regret without trying, but the lack of results relative to his efforts left him disheartened.
Futile efforts drove Aslan to the end of the day, forcing him to gather his group at the harbor as the sun set to explain the state of the sea.
Since no one knew how far or wide the freezing extended, the request to detour safely via the sea to the City of Mages was refused.
Although the rest of the group, excluding Angie, already knew this fact.
Gathering them together and sharing the information, the fortunate aspect was understanding the cause.
Phey, holding a bundle of fruit, answered while munching on an apple when questioned about the circumstances.
“The priest of the Immovable One fought with the priest of the Veil of Mercy.”
Though brief, the implications were clear. Aslan turned his head to gaze at the sea that had surged and abruptly halted.
“This is problematic. If it’s a place where the Veil of Mercy resides… getting close would result in freezing to death.”
“Freezing? Can your god melt it if they come?”
Responding to Ereta’s hand-to-cheek comment, Angie tossed a jab from the side.
Ereta stuck out her lip and shook her head.
“Impossible.”
“Your god is useless.”
“That’s harsh~”
While Ereta feigned hurt, Tiya Mal Clo observed the exchange between the woman and the girl, scratching her chin scales before speaking.
“From what this elder sees, there seems to be no means of passage. Wasn’t our original goal to reach that City of Mages or whatever?”
Her tail swept the ground lightly, then floated upwards, swaying side to side near her back. Aslan glanced at the tail before meeting Tiya’s gaze.
Even though Aslan wasn’t familiar with dragon gestures, he understood. The unspoken question was clear: What’s the plan? Aslan met Tiya’s golden eyes and frowned.
Though Angie claimed fire-spinning spiders were useless, Ereta was correct.
The Veil of Mercy’s power was beyond comparison with other gods. The only comparable deities were perhaps the Formless One or the Dark Ram Herd, credited with bringing Aslan into this world and creating it.
Even if the Tri-Deity Evil God possessed full power instead of a third, victory would’ve been unlikely.
Thus, fire-spinning spiders couldn’t melt cosmic death.
Aslan sighed while staring at the sea with a troubled expression. Tiya, Angie, Ereta, and Phey waited silently for his response.
“In fact… there isn’t no way. There is one method.”
“Oh, there is a method. I thought you had no plan whatsoever.”
Tiya’s teasing tone drew a glance and apologetic smile from Aslan, anticipating her reaction to what he was about to say.
There was no other option, so Aslan spoke.
“We need to go to the Underworld.”
The Underworld—the final destination for the deceased.
Tiya inevitably wore an expression of disbelief.
