Aslan, at the edge of the thunder, plunged his feet into the ground as if planting them there while simultaneously extending his shield and Purity.
Kara-rak, Chwack!
The pulsing lance of the foremost rushing Muyeung was met with a deflection from the shield and a slash of Purity that took his head.
Falling heads, collapsing bodies. Without even waiting for that, Aslan pierced through the body of the next companion with a lance.
Aslan extended Purity toward the lance. He thrust and cut it like a stab.
Kagagak! Sparks flew as the lance split in half, its owner’s body following suit. Guts fell heavily to the ground, blood spurted upward as a figure charged through it. Aslan evaded by spinning and swung the shield edge to strike the neck of the closest approaching Muyeung.
Ujik!
“Geck…”
Bending body. Durability is low. Aslan flipped his right wrist holding Purity and swung low. Following the crescent-shaped white light, three Muyeungs lost their ankles and tumbled.
Chwack!
Behind that, there was a blade. A movement aimed to pierce through Aslan’s head—a blow from a Muyeung who showed no concern for anything else.
Attempting to dodge by tilting his head, Aslan felt his cheek grazed, losing a piece of his cheek flesh.
Plop, the sound of falling blood. In response, Aslan’s qi surged along his spine. As he dodged, he simultaneously drove Purity into the Muyeung’s body and turned away.
Instant meat shield. Though durability wasn’t high, the effect was certain. Numerous spears embedded themselves into the body.
Thrown axes, daggers, arrows, maces, javelins—so many that the body trembled and projectiles passed through. Aslan blocked with another shield behind it.
Clang! The javelin bounced off. Seizing the moment, Aslan extended his foot and placed it on the corpse’s abdomen.
‘Calling Thunder.’
Kwarrrrung! Accompanied by rolling thunder, the corpse flew apart.
As Aslan tilted his hand holding Purity and drew a breath, the splattered intestines and blood obscured his vision.
Chzzzaaaak!
Aslan’s long sweeping strike ignored the blood trails and bisected two rushing Muyeungs.
“Gyaaaah!”
Their bodies split apart and scattered, steaming entrails fell to the ground. Another javelin came flying immediately after.
Though Aslan instinctively raised his shield, it wasn’t just one javelin.
Kagagang, Pow!
Almost simultaneous four strikes. Among the blows hammering the shield, one spear slipped through and pierced Aslan’s forearm.
The white steel shield rolled across the ground. Blood poured from Aslan as he winced. He swept the next javelin aside with a swing of Purity.
Kaaaaang!
And then he spun. At the end of the spin, Aslan’s white light strangely elongated.
‘Mooncutting.’
A strike that could cleave even the moon reflected on the water. Six Muyeungs lost their balance and were split in half by the surging sword strike. Amidst the flying entrails, Aslan lifted his eyes.
Some ominous premonition heading towards his head. That oppressive, overwhelming sensation. It was an attack from the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
Instinctively, Aslan realized there was only one way to block it.
The first thought that came to mind was his not-so-long-remaining lifespan.
The second was his already fading homeland.
The third was his selfishness.
All these instincts were suppressed by Aslan’s will.
‘Storage.’
Aslan closed his eyes.
Plop.
He opened his eyes again, blood streaming from his nose and eyes.
Six trajectories. The attacks pouring down utilized both the centipede-like lower body and the human upper body.
Perfectly synchronized trajectories. But with just a step from Aslan, a twist appeared. This subtle twist was something he had learned after hundreds of deaths.
Creating this twist, Aslan stepped forward with his left foot and pivoted diagonally with his right.
Then the trajectory and Purity met.
—Kaaaaang!
One strike.
A single stroke.
All six trajectories collided with that one strike and stopped. The pure blade grazed the ground, leaving scratches. Some indestructible weapon must have been present, for a heavy blade fell and crushed a Muyeung.
An instant storm arose. The Muyeungs caught in it were torn apart and flew toward Aslan, causing him to tumble along the ground upon collision.
Despite the ringing in his ears and labored breathing, Aslan quickly pressed his left hand against the ground.
‘Calling Thunder.’
Kwarrrrung!
A fiercely launched body. Rolling on the ground to narrowly evade, moments before where Aslan had been, a meteoric strike descended. Dust filled the sky.
Quickly rising, Aslan faced more Muyeungs.
The Supreme Divinity’s Sword was forcing Aslan’s consumption and planned to knock him down without any room for carelessness.
Realizing this, Aslan smiled crookedly and focused on luck and timing.
Interrupting his full focus were several weapons.
Weapons thrown with full force by the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
Hammer, mace, spear.
Not a single one was non-lethal.
Cursing under his breath, Aslan let Purity fall. As the shadow disappeared beneath his feet, a flurry of sword strikes followed his exhaled breath.
‘Reversing Shadows.’
Chzzzak!
Simultaneous consecutive strikes. Cutting through the precisely incoming hammer and mace, he deflected the spear. Beyond the vibrations created by the spear striking the ground lay a massive sword strike.
A downward strike by the Supreme Divinity’s Sword in human form.
A different kind of weight-driven strike compared to when using the centipede body—an attack without a single flaw.
But it was far more powerful.
While blocking with Purity, there was a high-pitched sound piercing through the metallic clangs.
“Kr… ugh…!”
With blood flowing from his ears, Aslan tilted the sword blade. The blade sliding along Purity launched him high into the air.
Kuaaaaaaang!
The deafening sound. Aslan’s airborne body. Lifted by the pressure and shockwave, Aslan crashed onto the ground with Steamfalos wings spread out on his back.
“Kuhk!”
Blood gushed from his mouth. Rolling on the ground and barely getting up, sharp pains coursed through his entire body.
Even with pain nearly erased, the gap between life and death was painfully close. An incredibly near shadow.
Aslan twisted his lips into a grin, turning around to glare at the Muyeungs.
The advancing Muyeungs. Behind them, the Supreme Divinity’s Sword picking up weapons. As the arms resembling a human figure momentarily disappeared, Aslan saw two weapons rushing toward him.
They were perfectly thrown with intricate speed adjustments.
Intended to crush Aslan while simultaneously breaking the fortress wall. The intention was clear. Aslan couldn’t fail to notice.
Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of soldiers in the fortress would die while protecting his own life.
Or abandon his body to save the soldiers and die himself.
A cruel dilemma.
‘Mooncutting.’
Hence, there was no hesitation. Clenching his teeth, Aslan swung the aching arm to wield Purity.
As the blazing white light stretched long, the hammer rushing toward the fortress split in half.
Exhaustion. No more special abilities could be used. Yet, another spear was charging from the front.
Direct hit meant instant death. Not enough time to evade. Even attempting to brace for impact would result in a direct strike.
Thus, the only option was to minimize the fatal damage.
Boost health with wild magic, gradually twist the body to reduce the impact area, and insert Steamfalos wings into the trajectory to minimize damage.
Undoubtedly, most of the left side of the body would be lost. But if equalization could be used by spending some lifespan, it would suffice.
Even if it led to death, there would be no regrets. That’s what he thought.
Of course, there were those who wanted to strongly oppose such thoughts.
Among them, a girl with crimson hair picked up the broken hammer that had plummeted to the ground and threw it back.
Accelerated by her immense strength, the half hammer collided with the incoming spear. A metallic screech echoed as they clashed.
The spear veered off, gouging the ground as it passed, allowing Aslan to hear approaching sounds from behind.
Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people walking in unison. The clinking sound of armor covering their bodies.
“—Fire!”
Subsequently, countless trajectories filled the sky. Although the number of flying ballistae and magic had decreased, some were especially fast and accurate.
Kagagang!
While the Supreme Divinity’s Sword blocked them with weapons, hesitating slightly, a single figure emerged.
A girl stepping forward, pressing her boots made of dragon skin firmly against the ground. Passing by Aslan, she stood in front, her crimson hair billowing as she clenched her fists.
Behind her, familiar faces revealed themselves one by one.
Ereta, wielding a flaming axe, placed her hand on Aslan’s body to share life force.
Phey, gripping two fiery swords, expressionless yet radiating killing intent.
Richard, offering a bandage to Aslan before awkwardly withdrawing it.
And countless soldiers of various nationalities following them.
People gathered here beyond race and nation, gripping their weapons despite trying to hide their fear.
They all lined up past Aslan. The advancing Muyeungs faltered at the sight of the rigid formation.
Then someone among the soldiers stepped forward.
Amidst the heated breaths and tension, a woman and a dragonborn calmly surveyed the battlefield with a cold gaze.
Frida and Bahort Head.
While all sorts of fierce emotions swirled across the battlefield, Frida calmly gripped her axe and looked at Aslan.
Everyone on the battlefield was focused on Aslan.
Waiting solely for Aslan’s single word.
Aslan briefly smiled at the countless gazes, raised Purity, and slowly tilted it toward the front.
In the silent battlefield, Aslan’s voice rang out clearly.
“Charge.”
No further words were needed.
Thousands of soldiers began running simultaneously.
