Black snow falling from the sky.
That blackened snowflake slowly descended toward the ground.
Ordinarily, no matter how dirty it gets, snow does not turn black.
Even if it were to get dirty, it would usually take on a brownish hue.
Moreover, this was a story that only applied to snow already on the ground.
It was an impossible feat for the snow still falling, high up in the sky, to become black.
Back when Aslan was Lee Hyun-woo, such an effect could be seen on Earth due to the aftermath of nuclear war.
In Geladridion, where there were no nuclear bombs or contamination, it was an unimaginable scene.
Aslan watched the falling black snow and saw it settle on a corpse.
What happened next was quite astonishing.
Gooch, Thud!
An ordinary monsterized soldier’s corpse. It twisted and reassembled itself.
Encased in black crystals, creaking as it rose, it resembled a marionette.
The difference was the unmistakable intent to kill.
Aslan frowned as he watched the distorted figure rise—a murderous puppet.
This kind of resurrection wasn’t limited to the dead.
Unlike Aslan and the regular monsterized soldiers who had black snow pile on their shoulders, the priests began to contort the moment they touched it.
“Aaah, ah, ugh, …!”
Joints were forcibly bent, folded, flesh crumpled, and bones shattered.
Amidst the chilling sounds, screams reached frequencies beyond human hearing before the transformation ceased.
Thus revealed was a clear metamorphosis.
Bears, deer, moose, wolves—various beasts intertwined with humans in grotesque forms, re-established through the peculiar distortion caused by the Dark Ram.
One might call them synthetic beings of divinity.
Monsters created by the Dark Ram stealing the essence of their mother.
To Aslan’s eyes, at least, it appeared that way.
“…”
Amidst the harmony of rising corpses and transforming priests, Astrid wailed in despair.
Her mournful cry summoned a storm of black snow.
“What… what is this…?”
“What’s happening…?”
In the midst of the wailing and the divine storm, ordinary warriors and non-priestly warriors brought by Astrid were clearly bewildered.
Only Aslan understood the situation and responded accordingly.
“Lord?!”
A mutated priest lunged forward, and the warrior under its command looked confused as he glanced at the knight-priest.
Before the raised claw struck, Aslan stepped between the warrior and the priest.
Transferring the momentum from his steps into his waist, he spun his body and swung his arm.
Swishhh!
The diagonal upward slash.
Precisely severing the bear-like forearm and cutting through the deer-like neck, the blade emerged.
With glistening black blood, the priest’s body was chopped apart and scattered across the floor.
Staring blankly at the scattered remains of his superior officer, the warrior stood dumbfounded. Aslan grabbed him by the collar.
“Snap out of it!”
The warrior looked at Aslan with a perplexed expression, overwhelmed by the lack of reality.
Under normal circumstances, Aslan might have waited patiently for the warrior to regain his senses, but now there was no time for that.
Pulling the warrior by the collar, Aslan shouted.
“That’s the Dark Ram’s doing! Any priest or corpse touched by this black snow becomes part of them!”
“What, what?”
To the confused warrior struggling to understand the sudden explanation, Aslan gritted his teeth and repeated himself.
“…Anyway, they’re our enemies! This isn’t the time to fight among ourselves or stand here waiting for death! If you are a warrior who venerates war and victory, then pick up your axe and fight these bastards!”
Normally, such persuasion wouldn’t have worked so easily, but Aslan’s words carried momentum, and the warrior was filled with confusion.
When these two forces collided, the warrior’s pupils trembled as he began to be persuaded.
“What… What should I do?”
“Go tell the warriors to prepare for battle! Prepare for combat, recover as many bodies as possible, and ensure the wounded don’t touch the snow!”
Pushing the collar away while shouting, the warrior turned and fled.
Aslan clenched his teeth as he watched the warrior’s back disappear.
Turning his head, all he could see were monsters.
Truly synthetic beings, mixing various transformations into one.
Already surpassing the boundaries of life, Aslan stood tall and stared beyond.
There, standing in the distorted form of a moose, was Astrid, and beside her, Rowena gently waved her hand.
Aslan placed his hand on his chest.
“Grasp.”
At once, his equipment levitated.
The mace and shield taken from the artist floated in the air, along with the Executioner’s greatsword strapped to his back, and the beast unfolded.
The luminous Purity also rose and began to spin, while Steamfalos’ wings detached and hovered as if imbued with will.
Dozens of weapons flying through that sky targeted the enemy based on Aslan’s precise control.
“…”
Roaring incomprehensible words, the monsters charged.
Standing firm, Aslan gripped the spear lying on the ground.
Facing the wave of monsters charging towards him, Aslan stood resolute.
Soon, Aslan and the monsters clashed.
The first move came from Aslan.
“Haa!”
With a rare battle cry, the spear plunged deep into the monster’s neck.
Clutching its neck and stumbling, the monster faltered. Aslan immediately released the spear and moved the floating Purity.
Zchk!
The rotating blade.
Drawing a pure white trajectory, the blade severed the neck deeply pierced by the spear, and more monsters rushed in.
The endless onslaught of monsters.
Various beasts merged into one form.
While daggers flew to cover gaps in the anti-air defense, the ferocious beast was blocked by the beast.
Like a sword wielded by a master slicing heads.
Crunch!
The ferocious blue beast savagely biting through their necks.
As black blood splattered and fell, Aslan clenched his fist.
Klara-rak! The metallic sound rang as he pulled back his left leg to steady himself.
Wooouuung!
With a turbine-like sound, twisting his waist, stepping forward with his left leg, and extending his fist.
Kwaang! A monster was hurled away with its chest torn open; a priest staggered as his chest was pierced.
But he did not fall. In that gap, Aslan caught the hovering Purity.
‘Mooncutting.’
And the bell toll. With a long streak of sword marks, the priest split in half fell with a thud.
The monsters rushing in lost limbs as a bonus.
Yet there were countless numbers.
Covering the distant front as they surged towards Aslan alone—dozens of monsters.
Aslan clicked his tongue while maintaining ‘Grasp’ and moved again.
Tudu-duduk, Kwa-jijik!
A bird-like monster charging. Piercing its heart with a line of daggers, tearing it from within.
Kkaang, Ujijik!
The monstrous blend of bear and wolf received a blow to the head with the mace and a broken neck from the flying shield.
Five charging wolves following behind were simultaneously bisected by the greatsword.
Even while fighting, Aslan remained unscathed.
Had it not been for mana and the dragon king’s armor, it would have been impossible.
Even that would be too much once the mana ran out.
Judging quickly, Aslan fired all the feathers of Steamfalos’ wings he possessed through ‘Grasp’ before his mana depleted.
Like detonating a bomb packed with shrapnel.
All enemies, including monsters, monster priests, and even Astrid, were pierced by the daggers Aslan spread in all directions.
In the brief pause as they were pierced, Aslan deactivated ‘Grasp’ and rushed forward.
To stop them, he had to kill Astrid, the caster of this magic.
Even though she was a friend, and they hadn’t exchanged any final words.
Aslan did not stop.
“…”
A monster priest blocking the path, shouting something. Approaching with a raised axe, Aslan momentarily used ‘Grasp’ to throw the greatsword.
Kwa-chugk!
As the priests and monsters trying to block Aslan’s path were cut or pierced, Aslan spun his feet and caught Purity and the mace.
‘Call Thunder.’
And accelerated.
Grrrrrrr!
Surrounded by thunder dragged down to the ground, Aslan shot forward.
Breaking through the encircling monsters, pushing aside those blocking his path, he approached Astrid.
Astrid, who should have been stopped and staggering from being riddled with daggers.
Approaching, Aslan saw it.
Astrid, who should have been stopped or regenerating after being riddled with daggers.
She let out a roar without hesitation as Aslan approached.
“!”
Simultaneously, Aslan’s qi reacted.
Qi reacting almost like a burning sensation. Reflexively hesitating for a moment, Aslan extended Purity.
Swishhh!
The extended Purity cleanly split Astrid’s head. The black moose head split in half and fell.
But the wailing did not cease.
“!”
As the moose head cried out in pain and sorrow, a massive wall rose from the ground.
“Ugh…!”
With a bone-chilling coldness and sharpness, it violently pushed Aslan away.
Flying through the air as the ground rapidly receded, Aslan managed to stop after sliding across the snowfield covered in black snow.
“…Damn.”
As Aslan barely got up, approaching were the monsters.
Monsters running with ice chaotically attached to their bodies, unaware of pain or fear.
Aslan gripped Purity with both hands, his breath visible in the cold air.
Deciding to fight even if he were to lose limbs again.
As the distance between Aslan and the monsters closed, and the narrowing distance gradually overlapped with each other’s range of attack.
Suddenly, the head of a four-legged charging monster was pierced.
Gud-deok, Persek!
The blade emerging after smashing through the skull.
A pale green-skinned warrior appearing a half-beat later.
The bronze-tinted blade followed the pale green arm of the one wielding it, rotating and severing the neck.
As the severed head rolled on the ground, the entity riding atop the monster’s bulk landed and swung the sword.
This was undoubtedly a unique existence.
In fact, practically topless except for a belt adorned with weapons.
Below that, numerous tattoos emitted faint light following the sword strikes.
The swords and daggers held by this entity continuously flew toward the charging monsters, revealing their strength.
Impaling the forehead, neck, and heart, receiving and cutting with the bronze-tinted blade in textbook fashion, thrusting and slashing.
Before long, as streams of black blood poured onto the ground, staining the black snowy field sticky, Aslan spoke.
“Watcher…?”
Despite Aslan’s tone of bewilderment, the Watcher did not respond, instead turning to face the monsters with sword drawn, as if protecting Aslan.
Looking perplexed, Aslan asked, “Are you a priest?”
An unexpected question.
After a moment of stunned silence, Aslan chuckled.
“Do I look like one?”
At that, the Watcher briefly glanced at Aslan with eyes emitting a white glow, which swept over Aslan before returning to face forward.
“The left hand suggests so.”
Holding the sword slightly tilted toward the monsters, the Watcher added, “Your left hand indicates that.”
Clenching his teeth, Aslan tapped his tingling knuckles with his left hand.
“I’m completely human except for that.”
“In that case, it’s good. I’ll help you, and later I expect your assistance.”
Detailed explanations can come later.
Aslan, having his words preempted, silently adjusted his stance, and the Watcher took a similar stance beside him.
The approaching monsters, their formidable numbers. As Aslan observed them, a whistling sound came from afar.
Squeeeeek.
Following the sound, he turned his head to see a corner of the monsters being carved away in the distance.
Kwagagagaga!
Together with the harsh collision sound.
Aslan recognized the gleaming short blade at the forefront.
It was Tiamat’s arrow.
As if the arrow were a signal, people approaching Aslan targeted the hesitating monsters.
The woman draped in flames, wielding an axe, Ereta, sprinting ahead.
Tiamat lumbering alongside her.
Richard, covered in tattoos, scanning the battlefield with a serious expression, and Angie walking beside him, carrying a greatsword on her shoulder, stomping on the black snow.
They were Aslan’s traveling party.
Seeing them, Aslan sighed in relief, and responding to that sigh, Angie nearby called out.
“Aslan! What’s going on?”
“I don’t know either. It suddenly turned out like this.”
Aslan didn’t know enough to give an accurate explanation.
How could he explain that Rowena suddenly appeared and everything went haywire?
Still, there was something clear.
Aslan gestured with his chin toward Astrid, who was still wailing far away.
“We need to take her down.”
“That.”
Seeing the towering figure clearly even from a distance, each member of the group wore expressions of difficulty.
The creature pierced with Steamfalos’ feathers, still standing despite its head being split.
It wasn’t a being that fit the description of being defeated.
Beyond regeneration, it seemed freed from death itself.
Realizing something, Angie furrowed her brow, and Aslan nodded.
“That… It resembles those black ones from back then.”
Ereta voicing Angie’s suspicion.
Indeed, Astrid’s current appearance reminded one of Thor Mull, who became a servant of the Dark Ram.
Though the power and manner might differ, the point of surpassing death was the same.
And if this form belonged to the same category as back then, death simply didn’t exist.
“Then… we can’t kill it, right? How do you plan to defeat it?”
Angie, perhaps wondering about this, asked while holding the greatsword.
Back then, Aslan personally entered Thor Mull’s interior to capture him.
He destroyed the medium that bound his soul to Geladridion.
Although the process was exposed to the Dark Ram and didn’t go entirely as planned, Aslan suspected something similar would work now.
Cutting off the soul’s direct connection or destroying the medium.
In this case, the medium was unknown.
So the method left was one.
“I’m going to open a door to the realm of sorrow and death within that body.”
Opening a gate to the underworld within that body, directly connecting it to the underworld and contacting the soul.
Then, cutting the soul with Purity imbued with the power of sorrow.
“Will that… work?”
“I don’t know, but we have to try.”
“If we need to inscribe it close up, how do we get close? And how do we inscribe it?”
Recalling the careful process of opening the underworld passage, Angie asked.
Indeed, it was a very difficult task.
Getting close enough was hard enough, but getting close and painstakingly engraving ancient characters was another matter.
Unless it was simple numbers, unless the enemy could be killed, unless there were more warriors.
The number of enemies was vast, they couldn’t be killed, and there weren’t many warriors.
Not to mention, even the priest-level monsters didn’t die, so Aslan glared at the approaching monsters with a troubled expression.
The hulking bear rising slowly and approaching.
The former priest twisted by black crystals.
Aslan sighed as he glared at it.
‘If I can just break through somehow.’
There weren’t many options.
Just as he was contemplating whether to force his way through,
Kwajik!
Something sprouted from the forehead of the monsterized priest.
Precisely piercing through the temples, breaking both lenses, and exiting through the opposite temple.
It was a golden, shining divine spear.
As Aslan turned his head toward the direction the spear came from, the monsters all turned their heads to gaze at a certain hill.
A hill yet to be fully covered by snow.
On top of that hill stood two figures.
A red-haired girl wielding a blazing longsword and a brunette holding a sword in her left hand.
The moment Aslan recognized the woman, she raised her sword.
As the raised blade shone undimmed even against the falling snow, something slowly began to reveal itself from behind her.
Men clad in steel armor, mounted on similarly armored beasts.
Warriors who once served the priests but now serve their enemies.
From Aslan’s perspective, the final piece of the puzzle for his plan.
The army of the Northern Empire.
The moment the army of the Northern Empire lined up, the woman shouted.
“—Charge!”
Following the gleam of her blade, the army surged forward.
