Breathing that rose to his chin and an arm weary from exhaustion. Aslan, feeling the weight of his body, wiped the cold sweat dripping down his forehead with the back of his hand.
High morale adjusts the player’s willpower and endurance. A player with high morale can use skills that require intense concentration more frequently, maintain focus during prolonged battles, and doesn’t tire easily.
Aslan’s morale was at 7, nearly reaching a superhuman level.
Thanks to this morale, Aslan could maintain sharp concentration without tiring easily.
But that sharp concentration dulled, and the tireless body soaked in fatigue began to slacken. Aslan took a convulsive breath in and out while observing the remaining army of Thor Mull with his one remaining eye.
He then turned his gaze to Ereta.
Beyond her back, slightly stuck due to sweat, faintly glowed a mana tattoo, the bravery of Bijou.
This tattoo slightly adjusted morale and strength and had the function of recovering stamina by killing enemies.
Even so, Ereta was exhausted. The sweat streaming down drenched the woman’s hair, clearly revealing her already exposed figure.
When their eyes met with the woman who was breathing heavily, Aslan silently stared at her before turning away.
In the place he turned to, there was Lumel, even more exhausted than Ereta.
The noblewoman without any tattoos wasn’t suited for such a forced march and was gasping for breath as if she would soon faint.
Both comrades and Aslan had reached their limits. There was no way they could continue fighting.
Realizing this fact, Aslan diverted his mind elsewhere.
The sound of Tiamat’s arrows piercing with a loud noise. The intervals were gradually getting longer. With fewer arrows left, Tiamat’s shooting was becoming more cautious.
The roaring sound produced by Anna’s magic remained consistent in interval but was growing louder.
It must be using stronger magic against the unexpected resistance and vitality.
Aslan wasn’t the only one at his limit. His unseen comrades had also reached theirs. Aslan realized that continuing the fight would be meaningless.
Could they defeat that army by continuing to fight? It was uncertain. Without any clues, he couldn’t act rashly.
But there was one certainty.
If they kept fighting aimlessly, Aslan would collapse from exhaustion before the enemy forces were depleted.
Aslan understood that now was the time to retreat and consider another path.
At the sight of Thor Mull’s advancing army, Aslan steadied his purity at that moment.
“Mooncutting.”
A loose exhale of breath appeared like white steam between the heated air, and Aslan, gazing at it with his right eye, swung his retracted purity horizontally.
Sssssaaaaiiiieeeeek!
That streak of white light carved through the white vapor, leaving a bright trail as it advanced. The waists of the Thor Mulls caught in its long trajectory were cleanly severed.
The effect of purity, and especially the effect of the fire blade, was simple yet powerful.
Anything it aimed to cut would indeed be cut. True to its meaning, the bodies of the rushing Thor Mulls were split into two and rolled on the ground.
By the time the splashing sounds poured down like rain, the faint shadow hovering beneath Aslan’s feet disappeared.
“Shadow Reversal.”
Chzzzak!
Instantly filling the empty space were two flashes of light. The attacks marked by the streak of white light and burning shadow cleaved the ceiling, causing countless rocks to plummet towards the floor.
With the sounds of rocks crashing down, the corridor was blocked. Aslan observed this scene for a moment before quickly turning around. He saw two women with bewildered expressions.
Aslan sighed quietly at their questioning gazes and said,
“Further fighting is meaningless. We’ll get exhausted before we break through them. Now that we’ve bought some time, we need to change our plan.”
Neither Lumel nor Ereta responded. They had neither the energy nor the intention to argue.
Thus, Aslan brushed his hair back and retraced his steps along the corridor.
Wiping the sweat off his palms, he returned to the guard post where quite a few injured guards could be seen.
Fortunately, there were none dead or critically wounded, all thanks to Angie and Phey’s efforts.
“Huff!”
With a fierce kick from the girl, the chest caved in completely, and Phey’s sword blade, kicked off the wall, sliced the neck in a V-shape.
As the fallen corpse of Thor Mull dissolved into black liquid and scattered across the floor, countless figures rushed in. Angie clicked her tongue lowly and raised her fists, while Phey spun her dual swords and lowered her stance.
Judging by appearances, the situation was difficult.
Still, Phey was an elf who didn’t tire, and Angie seemed to endure well due to her high health.
Had Aslan or other party members been here, they wouldn’t have held out this long. Approaching Angie, who had torn off a Thor Mull’s head with a large swing of her fist, Aslan spoke.
“Aslan!”
Ughh, with a short cry, the Thor Mull flew out to the outside of the guard post, and Angie exhaled deeply, wiping her forehead.
“These guys are weird, keep coming no matter how many I kill!”
Nodding in agreement with Angie’s words, Phey glanced at Aslan, who nodded grimly, acknowledging what he already knew.
Casting that grimness into his gaze, Aslan looked around. Everywhere his eyes fell, he saw guards slumped over with injuries.
Receiving their frightened stares, Aslan closed and opened his eyes.
The plan was formulated instantly, without hesitation or conflict.
Aslan wasn’t someone who could stand idly by watching others die. He was someone who couldn’t help but look when people were dying, struggling, or in danger.
Kung, kung!
The sound came from the sealed corridor behind him. It was the Thor Mulls trying to break through the pile of rocks.
Staying here in the guard post would only lead to either starving to death or being annihilated.
Neither the guards, the party, nor Aslan himself could hold out against such numbers.
Even Angie’s excellent stamina and Phey’s tireless body couldn’t withstand these odds.
There was only one option left: breakthrough.
“Gather the guards for me.”
So Aslan called over the highest-ranking guard. Turning to look at Aslan, the guard wore a puzzled expression.
“You weren’t trying to block that corridor…?”
Only then did he notice the broken corridor filled with rubble and pale. Perhaps he had been on the roof, holding a mace.
“It was impossible, so I retreated. These monsters don’t die no matter how much you try to kill them. Continuing to fight would just result in a losing battle.”
Implied in this statement was the need for a more fundamental solution. The guard frowned without saying anything. Aslan nodded at the guard.
“Bring all the guards above, my companions, and Lady Anna.”
The guard, seemingly skeptical, stared at Aslan for a while before heading upstairs. Once the guard left, Aslan helped Angie block the door and gathered the party.
Amidst the shifting piles of stones and the eerie presence of Thor Mulls beyond, Aslan declared to the gathered guards and companions,
“They don’t die.”
At this proclamation, as if it were some kind of curse, the guards wore uncomfortable expressions.
“I’m sure some of you have already noticed.”
As Aslan said this and looked at Anna, she crossed her arms without surprise, sharing the same thought. Tiyamal, standing beside her, massaged her shoulder and muttered,
“Figured something was off since the number didn’t decrease despite my shots… What a waste of arrows.”
Just as Tiyamal grumbled, continuing the fight would be wasteful. Wasting everything for a battle that couldn’t possibly be won. Realizing this, the guards grew serious, and Aslan, observing their faces, spoke.
Some seemed to understand, while others still hadn’t grasped the situation.
“We need a more fundamental solution. Thus…”
“Can’t we fortify here?”
Following this question was in the same vein, and Aslan, having anticipated it, shook his head without hesitation.
“If we do that, we’ll likely die slowly. It’ll be a slow and painful death.”
The guard swallowed hard at this answer, as if it were some kind of fate, and the female guard sitting nearby raised her hand.
“What should we do then?”
“All those who can still fight, including the wounded, will gather together and break through via the entrance.”
“Wait, then casualties…?”
“There’s nothing we can do about that. If we don’t break through here, we’ll all die. By breaking through, we must find the main body of these monsters.”
Main body? This curious term came not from the guards but from Angie. Aslan nodded ambiguously in response, and the guards exchanged looks at this vagueness.
“Then… Is there a chance we survive?”
Of course, it was a natural question. Normally, Aslan might have smiled and assured survival, but now, he couldn’t make such a promise.
The enemy was Thor Mull.
An unprecedented master of some kind of magic or divine power controlling countless duplicates of himself.
Once a spear expert.
Casualties were inevitable.
A bitter smile involuntarily surfaced. Aslan maintained a firm voice while smiling bitterly.
“I cannot guarantee. Some will survive, and some will die.”
“Hmm… Then, waiting for the imperial troops…”
Sighing, the guard who suggested fortification asked, clutching his injured leg and looking anxiously, and Aslan couldn’t answer with a smile.
Instead,
“Listen carefully.”
“Hm?”
“While listening closely to the surrounding sounds, hear me out.”
Perplexed, Aslan continued addressing the man.
“These monsters have the ability to transform others into beings like themselves. Those transformed become monsters. Keep this in mind and listen carefully. And reflect on it.”
Realizing the implication, the guards’ faces paled, and Aslan addressed them.
“Before things got this bad, did you ever hear the sounds of people passing by, patrols returning, or fights happening? Did you see such people?”
No further explanation was needed. The guards clenched their jaws, trembled, or rolled their eyes, revealing their fear. Despite the emotions swirling within them, they remained silent.
Watching them, Aslan spoke.
“The longer we drag this out, the more the city will be overrun with monsters. Irreparable damage will occur. People will die, and they will become wandering monsters. So, let me ask you.”
As Aslan paused, the sound of the rocks in the corridor being pounded filled the silence. Amidst this noisy silence, Aslan looked around at the guards.
“I am about to break through the monster’s encirclement to find and kill the main body. Whether people return or not after that, I don’t know. Success isn’t guaranteed. However, if successful, we may prevent the entire city from falling into the hands of the monsters.”
But what if it fails? As this thought crossed the guards’ minds, Aslan stepped forward. In the center stood Aslan, with purity blazing in his hand.
Those accompanying him in this process might die or get injured. If they fail, they’ll lose everything, and even if they succeed, there will be a price to pay. Therefore, Aslan wouldn’t force anyone. He had only two words to say.
The guards’ eyes, swirling with various emotions, turned toward Aslan, who planted purity on the ground in the center.
The pure white sword pierced the ground as smoothly as paper. From the sword emanated a gentle warmth.
As this warmth touched their faces, the guards stiffened.
“You are the guards of Ashan. You protect this city.”
The trembling pupils of the guards settled, and Aslan, surveying them, added,
“And outside this place lies an enemy threatening the city.”
The injured, tired, and fearful people looked at each other. Their interlocking gazes exchanged a gulp. They lived in this city.
The city of pleasures, Ashan.
A city often perceived externally as a den of crime.
Yet, in reality, not so decadent.
The reason for its lack of decadence was simple.
Because the guards of Ashan existed.
They moved busily for the city, judged those who strayed, worked diligently despite being criticized, all for the sake of the city.
People with families, responsibilities, desires, and those swept up in the mood.
Regardless of age or gender, the guards recalled their duties.
They were the guards of Ashan.
Protecting the city was their duty.
And now, the city was in peril.
After briefly recalling this fact, Aslan asked,
“What will you do?”
Though softly spoken, it was the strongest push for the guards. Clutching their weapons tightly without answering, the guards stood firm.
Aslan watched their resolute forms and smiled gently.
