“Sowbrain, bring the sowbrain! We’ll be overwhelmed if we face them head-on!”
“We can’t hold out much longer! The Sowbrains ran out a while ago!”
“Damn… Bring the spears! Don’t care if they’re confiscated items or evidence, grab everything!”
A group of people were shouting. Cutting through the spreading fear and bewilderment in those voices, a group of people appeared at the passageway leading to the underground prison.
Among them, the one at the very front was a man.
He wore a long, black feather cloak that shimmered, and beneath it, a unique black scale armor. He stopped in front of where the guards had gathered, gripping a longsword in his hand.
“It d-doesn’t exist! Not in the confiscated items… nor in the evidence!”
“What? That can’t be! The woman in the prison right now…”
A faint sound rarely noticed due to its deep and thick nature. When the guard turned his head late, Aslan tilted his head sideways and smiled.
There was no ominousness in that smile. Even though one might expect it to seem threatening at first glance, because the man’s friendly smile felt so natural, it couldn’t be perceived as such.
Because of this, the guard momentarily paused speaking and soon realized how tall the man was.
Behind that man, a group of people revealed their presence with various actions.
A towering dragon-person holding an equally massive bow, a girl twirling two swords who stared blankly back at any gaze she felt, a girl with crimson hair cracking her neck left and right, and a woman leaning on a large axe over her shoulder.
The most noticeable among them was the woman standing right behind the man.
Holding a spear that had been stored as evidence in the guardhouse warehouse just hours before, and wearing a light plate cuirass, the woman stood out.
The moment the guard saw her, his eyes widened.
“Hold on, hold on! How did you…?”
The guard placed his hand on the weapon at his waist to stop them.
Seeing Aslan turn his vacant gaze towards him, the guard was conflicted about what to say first: Should he ask how they brought the evidence, tell them to quietly return to their cell, or ask why they came upstairs?
The guard didn’t know.
So he merely extended his hand awkwardly, opening and closing his mouth several times.
Aslan seemed to have understood something from the guard’s posture and placed his hand on the guard’s shoulder, nudging him aside. With that natural action, the guard made a “eh” sound as he was pushed away.
KWAANG!
And as the guard was pushed, the door shattered.
The wooden door splintering apart like an explosion, amidst the shards, the guards screamed and shouted as something revealed itself beyond them.
The figure, seemingly crafted from bone fragments stained black, was Thor Mull.
Thor Mull swiftly thrust his spear forward, and the spinning spear easily shattered the shields raised by the guards, defying logic.
With a crunching sound like wood being forcibly twisted, the shield broke, causing the guards to retreat. As Thor Mull charged toward the retreating guards,
“Hmph!”
Rumel’s spear blocked Thor Mull’s path.
Gripping the spear with both hands, Rumel swung it downward and then quickly shifted his right hand behind his left after the swing, halting immediately.
KAANG!
The spearhead struck Thor Mull’s head, momentarily freezing his movement. Though the pause lasted less than a second, it was enough for Rumel.
This time, Rumel leaned his body forward, twisting the spear as he swung it. The swing carried a heavy rotation.
PUH-UK!
An overwhelming strike not to be underestimated by just a spear. When the side of the spear blade connected with Thor Mull’s head, it shattered into pieces, revealing countless other forms of Thor Mull behind.
There were many of them, rushing in immediately. Despite the narrow entrance, Thor Mull’s thin form allowed him to enter easily.
One of these shapes slipped past Rumel’s block, appearing from the side rather than the front. A skeletal figure no longer resembling a human.
However, Aslan was already there.
Aslan stepped to Rumel’s side and parried the incoming spear aimed at his forehead with a dagger.
KA-GA-GAK! Sparks flew as the spear blade was pushed back. Before it could return, Aslan swung his dagger upward at an angle.
KWA-JIK!
The dagger’s swing released a streak of gray light, shattering Thor Mull and causing the advancing ranks to hesitate. The Thor Mulls preparing to charge stopped.
That brief pause was more than enough for Tiamat. Quickly drawing and firing an arrow, Tiamat caused the air inside, heated by the struggle between the guards and the group, to feel as though it spread outward in a circular motion.
And an arrow faster than the eye could see filled that gap.
KWAANG!
A roar even louder than when the door was shattered—indeed, even greater—caused the Thor Mulls crowding the narrow entrance to fall backward all at once. The guards looked on dumbfounded.
“HRYAAAP!”
Taking advantage of the Thor Mulls’ retreat, Angie quickly moved. She grabbed a storage cabinet that had been in place before the guardhouse existed and hurled it toward the door.
“UWAAAK!”
The stone cabinet flew over the heads of the screaming guards and embedded itself at the entrance. Beyond the sound of breaking stones and flying debris, the guards hesitated and retreated.
Aslan calmly extended his finger amidst the confused guards.
“Tiamat, go upstairs and intercept them.”
Tiamat nodded, slinging her bow over her shoulder as she ascended the spiral staircase to the roof. Aslan briefly explained to his companions.
“This building is horseshoe-shaped. We are on the left side based on the open part of the horseshoe. There’s an entrance here and another in the center. They’ll likely split into two groups and attack both places simultaneously. Angie and Phey, help the guards here. Ereta and I, along with Rumel, will go to the center.”
“Again working with Anger? But Anger’s stupid, so I don’t want to.”
The grumbling elven girl and the shrugging shoulders of another girl caught the guards’ attention, slowly pulling them out of their stupor.
“Wait, wait! Who said you could do whatever you want? Besides, even if everything is fine—suspects must stay in jail! Immediately disarm and return to your cells…”
“That’s unnecessary.”
This response did not come from Aslan or his group but drew the guards’ attention as they turned instinctively toward the spiral staircase descending from the roof. They saw a woman slowly walking down.
The woman, Anna Helmenius, whose sleeves were slightly singed, smelled of gunpowder as she gestured toward Aslan and Rumel.
“Please let them pass.”
“I cannot.”
The stubborn guard’s reply prompted Anna to make a regretful expression before saying:
“…Previously, when discussing Rumel van Holrn’s accusations, wasn’t there mention of controlling strange monsters and the accusation of killing a noble?”
Are these the strange monsters she referred to? Upon seeing the direction she pointed, the guard saw the black liquid remains of the skeletal creatures and bit his lip.
“Yes.”
Though reluctant, this answer was sufficient for Anna. Smiling, she signaled Rumel.
“If the reason for not letting them pass is due to accusations of controlling strange monsters and killing a noble, it seems irrelevant now, doesn’t it?”
Despite the compassionate smile and words of the woman, the guards showed no reaction, unable to comprehend the meaning behind her words.
What connection does the accusation of controlling monsters have to the monster present here now? It seemed only Aslan among the group caught the implication.
Finally, Anna sighed upon noticing the questioning gazes directed at her and began to explain.
“These strange monsters result from a complex interplay of magical rituals and divine power. Only priests or monstrous beings equivalent to priests could control such creatures.”
The guards’ gaze shifted to Rumel, who, holding his spear awkwardly, looked around at Anna, the guards, and Aslan in turn.
“Does this child look like a priest?”
“…It’s not that, but… that…”
“How do you believe that?”
When the guard lifted his head to Anna’s question, she subtly flashed a green light in her eyes.
A dense mana could be felt emanating from that light, strong enough for even a magic-less guard to sense.
Anna was a woman of immense renown across the northern and southern continents. She was a great mage and once a renowned master of magic.
Realizing the foolishness of his words, the guard fell silent, and the woman finally brightened her smile.
“Thank you.”
Without much response, the guards busied themselves, and Anna, taking advantage of the commotion, looked at Aslan and said,
“Go ahead. I’ll assist with magic from above.”
“Thank you.”
Aslan led Ereta and Rumel away, heading toward the central corridor of the D-shaped building.
Though called a horseshoe or D shape, the central section of the actual structure was excessively long and thick.
That long and thick corridor was filled with Thor Mulls, enough to make even Aslan, known for his courage and experience in numerous battles, flinch upon sight.
“There they are.”
Countless Thor Mulls murmured in unison, prompting Aslan to sigh.
“Purity.”
WHOOSH!
The rising white flames and the transformation of the dagger into a greatsword in his hand were mere bonuses.
Holding Steamfalos transformed into purity in his left hand and his dagger in his right, Aslan lowered both swords and spoke.
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm…”
Ereta’s cheerful response and Rumel’s tense breathing followed. Leaving them behind, Aslan rushed forward.
Thor Mulls hurled spears at the charging Aslan. Aslan deflected the incoming spear blades by swinging his dagger upward and plunged the transformed purity into the staggering Thor Mull’s neck.
KA-TCH-KT!
The satisfying sensation flowing through purity informed Aslan that there was no trace of humanity left in the Thor Mull. Twisting the blade, he severed the head, which hadn’t even hit the ground when Rumel behind him hurled his spear.
KA-NG, KA-GA-NG!
Following this, Ereta swung her axe. Rumel’s spear pierced through the chest of the Thor Mull targeted by Ereta, who then spun her body to deliver a wide axe swing.
As the axe cleaved the Thor Mull, scattering it across the floor, Rumel seized the spear shaft and twisted his body.
CRUNCH!
The pierced chest of the Thor Mull exploded, and Rumel’s spear surged forward with each thrust, alternating hands repeatedly, stabbing, twisting, and smashing.
Thrusting, turning the spear, gripping it firmly again, and hurling it—there were almost no gaps in these strikes, and no set pattern existed.
The spear techniques Rumel had learned from mercenaries while wandering the world were completely free and utterly chaotic.
The next attack was unpredictable. When a Thor Mull reached out to grab the hurled spear blade, Rumel twisted his wrist, shaking off the hand, and slashed diagonally, tearing the neck.
Before the torn neck could heal and Rumel could find his next target, the spear shaft was grabbed. Turning his head, Rumel saw a Thor Mull smiling crookedly with its head tilted.
‘A mistake.’
Critical spot tear. Though excellent as a normal means of attack, Thor Mull was not a normal human. Having abandoned humanity altogether.
Rumel’s face stiffened with panic, and his movements halted. The previously free-flowing spear was blocked. Unable to think of the next move, Rumel panicked, and the Thor Mull’s mouth curled further.
KWA-JIK!
The white light drawn by Aslan’s sword cleanly sliced through the Thor Mull’s neck.
The severed head rolled across the floor as Aslan intercepted the next attacking Thor Mull.
KA-A-NG!
Parrying with crossed blades, tilting the sword edge to deflect it while simultaneously swinging both swords to shatter the foe. Before the tilting body could fall, Ereta stepped forward.
Six spear blades, imbued with spiraling techniques, descended upon Ereta. Confirming all of them with her eyes, Ereta spun her body and swept the axe head to deflect the spear blades. Amidst the ringing metallic sounds, the woman smiled.
Next, as Ereta gripped the axe widely, Aslan stepped forward this time.
Swinging his dagger in a short arc, cutting the corner of Thor Mull’s eye, he spun his body to evade the spear thrusting from the side and swung purity widely, shattering three foes at once.
Amidst the crumbling chunks, Ereta’s axe surged forward—a thrust.
The hefty chunk of metal slammed into the neck of the nearest Thor Mull, breaking it under the weighty attack, causing the creature to slump.
Pushing the falling Thor Mull away with a kick, Ereta stepped back, allowing Aslan to fill her gap.
Ereta dealt with the Thor Mulls targeting her gap, positioning herself to allow Aslan to handle them easily or chopping off the heads and limbs of those aiming for Aslan’s rear or side.
The Thor Mulls had become akin to a swarm. There were too many for one person to handle, and the space was cramped.
But neither Ereta nor Aslan retreated. Depending on each other’s skills and attacks, protecting one another as they advanced.
Through the harmony they created, they endured the relentless onslaught of what was once a master’s forces without sustaining a single wound.
Watching this, Rumel felt an indescribable sense of defeat.
‘It’s my place.’
So Rumel bit his lips and stepped forward, carefully observing their movements this time.
Destroying the head of a Thor Mull charging to exploit a bodily gap, striking the legs of another aiming for Ereta’s side with the spear shaft to knock it down, and piercing it before Aslan’s slash could revive it.
Their breaths grew labored, muscles fatigued from exertion, yet they continued moving ceaselessly. Their weapons became stained black from blind swings, and black liquid rose to ankle height, sloshing around.
Aslan sensed something amiss during the repeated acts of dismembering, piercing, and slicing.
No matter how many he felled, the end never came into sight.
Fortunately, he wasn’t alone in feeling this way.
After knocking a Thor Mull away with her axe, Ereta panted and said,
“Asl…an… Somehow…”
Aslan agreed with her sentiment and ceased his attack, prompting Rumel to mutter.
“Just me… noticing this, fortunately, no…”
Even someone as clueless as Angie would notice this intense sense of wrongness.
When everyone in the group stopped their attacks due to this unsettling feeling, they barely managed to see.
SWOOSH!
The Thor Mulls reborn, splitting the black liquid.
The truth behind the endlessly surging army.
Drenched in sweat, sticking to his forehead, Aslan muttered a low curse.
“Damn.”
