The shouts and cries mix together.
Thus, the noise of life and non-life mixes, and what continues to resound is both life and death.
“Kill! I’ll kill whoever retreats first!”
“Maintain formation, maintain formation!”
Those shouting were seasoned warriors.
They were the last warriors from a very long time ago when the Northern Empire was at its purest and most stable.
Warriors who were once ordinary humans granted the power of monstrosity, living long lives through that power.
They were men of the philosophy of strength.
Because they were strong, they served knights and monsters, and followed General Lumel, who was even stronger.
They had no worries or concerns.
All that existed for them was the praise of the stronger.
Without hesitation, they thrust their blades towards the monsters.
Kwa-aang!
The sound of beasts and beasts, monsters and monsters, entangling with each other.
Between the sounds of flesh colliding and bursting, the monsters that could still be called warriors hastily drew axes, spears, and swords to slash at other monsters.
As the monsters and the Northern Empire’s army clashed, Phey appeared.
A sword glowing crimson, not just burning with flames, but saturated with them.
Holding that longsword, Phey crouched low from afar.
Aslan recognized the sword in that girl’s hand well.
A longsword possible to craft only after the dawn and twilight have broken.
High attack power, high durability, and when sword skills reach a certain level, it can switch from physical damage to fire damage.
Gaebyeok.
The moment Phey crouched and charged forward, her figure distorted red with the heated Gaebyeok.
Leaving only a trail of motion before disappearing, the speed approached the sound barrier, creating a fierce wind solely from acceleration.
Through that wind, Aslan could see Phey swinging her sword.
“ë„ì•„ì•…―!”
Sshh-gek!
Wherever the crimson streak passed, the necks, arms, and waists of monsters were severed.
Each severed monster rolled on the ground, and Aslan saw the army advancing through the gaps.
“Push forward, do not retreat!”
“Send these bastards back to where they came from!”
Following the voices, weapons moved briskly. Between them, monsters were torn apart, and the warriors were also being shredded.
Torn warriors regenerate, but the monsters kept attacking without ceasing, detached from death.
It was a scene that seemed like a fable of the battle between life and death.
Rarely did it bring such perplexity to Aslan.
After observing for quite some time, Aslan noticed someone emerging from the army and approaching, snapping him back to reality.
“Aslan!”
The woman calling out as she approached.
Her torn clothes revealed something violent, it was none other than Lumel.
Aslan hesitated whether to stop the intense shaking or wait, then grabbed a spear embedded in the ground and pulled it out.
Pajijik!
The spear streaming golden electricity, Aslan lightly threw it into the air, and Lumel caught it mid-air before rushing to Aslan’s side.
“Lumel.”
“Aslan, are you alright? Any injuries…?”
“No. I’m fine. More importantly… how did you bring them here?”
Pointing with his chin to the army Aslan mentioned, Lumel turned her head and scratched her cheek, perhaps embarrassed.
“How did I know we needed an army?”
“I, didn’t know. Just assumed the Northern Empire needed it, so I brought them along… No, that’s not important! What happened? What are those things?”
And who is this person?
Though the question wasn’t directly spoken, Lumel’s skeptical gaze fell upon the observer.
The observer, however, maintained an unwavering focus on the battlefield despite Lumel’s scrutiny.
It was difficult for Aslan to answer as well.
Aslan knew the situation just as poorly.
Still, there was something certain.
“I don’t know exactly either, but I know what needs to be done now. We need to take them down.”
“Them?”
Her glance shifted momentarily.
Instead of Lewena, who had disappeared suddenly some time ago, it swept over Astrid standing atop the hill.
Meeting that glance, Aslan spoke.
“Yeah, that. I’m going to open a gate to the realm of sorrow and death within that body. Will you help?”
Even though she didn’t understand why Aslan intended to open a gate to the underworld, Lumel trusted him.
She immediately took her position beside Aslan, and the rest of the party prepared their weapons and glared at the battlefield.
“Aslan! The warriors have arrived!”
At Angie’s shout, Aslan realized the warriors he had sent were joining them and sighed deeply, lowering his stance.
“Let’s go.”
With that signal, the party rushed forward.
Into the battlefield where warriors and monsters were clashing fiercely. Their target was the hill where Astrid stood.
Amid the clash between the army and the monsters, Aslan’s party joined the fray.
“Alright, let’s start with this old man!”
The first to act was Tiamat. Sliding smoothly and stopping, she braced herself with her tail and drew her bow.
Tuung!
The sound of an unknown metallic string being drawn back and firing a massive arrow.
Following the sound was a chilling strike of immense power.
A monster charging with a roaring sound was pierced and fell backward.
As the fallen monster writhed to rise again, a crimson streak flew past it.
Kwauuuk!
A rough tearing sound through space. The severed head fell off the blade glowing crimson.
Even with its head severed, the monster continued to move.
The party swiftly passed over it, and Ereta’s blazing axe tore it into pieces and scattered it.
Among the splattered black bodily fluids, countless monsters surged forward, blocking the party’s path. Ereta shouldered her axe and shouted.
“Aslan, ahead!”
“I’ll handle it!”
Ereta screamed as she finished incapacitating the monster, and Angie reacted instead of Aslan, gripping victory behind her and moving.
“Huuuuuuh, Haah!”
With a short cry, the punch straightforwardly crushed the monster, and the creatures slashed by her swinging leg split in two and fell to the ground.
Bang, Kwaaang! Producing sounds impossible for a human body to make, Angie dealt with the monsters one by one.
Taking advantage of the gap, a flying beast approached. Both the observer and Aslan’s daggers simultaneously flew toward its eyes.
Feathers and daggers piercing precisely through both eyes.
As the monster’s head crashed to the ground under Richard’s foot, Aslan raised his sword high at the forefront of the party and shouted.
“Don’t fall behind, keep up!”
Responding to his words, Angie caught the thrown greatsword mid-air and swung it.
With a large opening in front, the party plunged into it.
Deeper into the battlefield.
In the midst of it all, Aslan advanced with Lumel by his side.
Lumel, holding a weapon in each hand, mirrored Aslan symmetrically.
Lumel thrust her spear, piercing a monster, while Aslan smashed its head with a punch nearby.
When the shattered monster collapsed, Aslan cleaved another monster squeezing through the gap with purity.
When the split monster twitched, Lumel blocked it with her spear.
Thrusting, slicing, and pounding, they moved forward.
With Lumel’s precise support, Aslan could exceed his usual capabilities.
Just as the hill started coming into view at the end of their advance, Aslan spotted an obstacle blocking their way.
The remains of the giant priests Aslan had previously dismembered, fused into a single form.
It was too massive and irregular to fight.
Considering these were monsters that didn’t die, wasting time fighting would be unwise.
What was needed was a fleeting gap, a brief opportunity.
As if reading Aslan’s thoughts, Lumel inhaled deeply and pulled back her spear named Judgment.
As electric sparks flowed finely along her arm pulling back, Lumel hurled the spear toward the massive figure.
Tuung!
Kwaddeudeudek!
The golden javelin flying straight pierced accurately through the chest of the monster, and from within, condensed electricity erupted.
Pajijijijjik!
No matter how much the concept of death may not apply, it’s impossible to ignore every natural reaction of the human body.
The golden current triggered those natural reactions, and the massive figure stiffened and trembled violently as the current flowed through it.
This was enough of an opening for Aslan.
‘Flip the Shadow.’
Muttering silently, the shadow disappeared, and following the trajectory of the vanished shadow, incomprehensible consecutive strikes poured forth.
Dja-jak!
The massive figure splitting into four parts and scattering.
As Aslan leaped over the figure and charged toward Astrid, the party turned around almost as if by agreement to block the army.
For this point onward, it was up to Aslan.
Running and running, Aslan finally reached the destination.
A grotesque appearance resembling a large mus combined with black crystals haphazardly mixed in.
Standing before Astrid, whose feather-like daggers were embedded all over her body, with half her head remaining, wailing in lamentation.
Seeing such an Astrid, Aslan wore a pained expression.
It wasn’t a pleasant sight to see a close friend suffering in such a hideous state.
“I’ll set you free soon, Astrid.”
So, muttering a voice that wouldn’t reach, Aslan gripped his sword.
He steadied his stance, taking a deep breath.
“ë¼ì—ì—ì—ì—ì—‘!”
Feeling the mana following the lament, he closed his eyes.
“Save.”
The intonation. A skill with significant risk that shouldn’t be overused.
But it was necessary to avoid all magic completely.
Following Aslan’s muttered voice, the world froze, and perception accelerated.
Aslan confirmed all possible futures within this moment.
A dark tidal wave surging up from the ground.
Icicles plunging down from above.
Bullets mixed among the falling snow.
Shaving blade-like snowstorms.
Experiencing and tasting all these directly, Aslan found the perfect trajectory.
Blood trickled from the corner of his eye, but Aslan paid it no mind and opened his eyes.
In the crimson-tinted vision, all trajectories Aslan had experienced and acted upon became visible.
Toward the pile of corpses, Aslan moved straight away.
Zzaeaeaeaeeng!
A dark tidal wave surging up from the ground instantly, thorny black ice.
Dodging it, Aslan jumped onto the less sharp ice.
The next attack targeting the gap created by his jump.
Without looking, Aslan twisted his body like in gymnastics to dodge the icicle plummeting downward from above.
Immediately after dodging, bullets formed by mana solidifying among the snow were shot toward Aslan.
Recalling all the trajectories, Aslan twisted his body further using the icicle as a springboard.
Bullets grazing past his arms, legs, cheeks, and ears.
Suppressing the overwhelming breath with determination, Aslan stepped forward.
Malice pouring toward Aslan. Black mist. Clutching purity firmly, Aslan swung it.
‘Mooncutting.’
As a white line was drawn beyond the black mist, the mist parted, revealing his grieving friend beyond it.
The sword reaches. So does the fist. At a distance so close it could be called point-blank.
Holding a dagger in the other hand, Aslan extinguished the purity.
In the place where the whiteness faded, what remained was a dagger resembling a feather.
The range of the sword, that place was Aslan’s domain.
A territory of inevitable mortality from which no formidable enemy could escape.
‘Sorry, Astrid.’
Clutching two daggers, glaring intensely, Aslan moved straight away.
Kwauuuk!
Astrid’s right arm shooting through the air, descending from above.
Kang.
Aslan placed the dagger along the trajectory and spun using its force, swinging the dagger in the other hand.
Kagaga-gak!
A horizontal trajectory. The foundation of characters carved into the black crystal.
What followed was a one-sided exchange of blows.
Kang, Kagagagagang!
Swinging arms, claws, elbows. Aslan scanned these attacks with his eyes, sometimes dodging without even seeing.
Moving ceaselessly with developed luck, mana, and tenacity, he continuously swung his daggers.
Desperately carving characters into the black crystal as if wildly slashing.
Kang!
Using the head thrust toward him as leverage, he performed a backflip on the spot, landing and carving another character.
The process looked like dancing with a monster from others’ perspectives.
A dance posture facing death. In the center of it, Aslan avoided the death raining down like the first snowfall, cutting, stabbing, and striking with daggers.
Finally, when Aslan had carved all 48 characters, he dropped the daggers and clenched his fists.
Simultaneously, Astrid raised both her arms high.
“그오오오오!”
An incomprehensible sound accompanied by descending arms. An overwhelmingly powerful strike normally impossible to withstand.
However, Aslan possessed the arm of a Dragon King.
Wooowww!
With a turbine-like sound, the black fist launched granted Aslan the Dragon King’s strength for a moment.
Kwaaaaaang!
A long uppercut. An attack aimed at pushing the arm aside.
As Astrid’s arm was pushed back and wobbled, Aslan reversed his grip on the dagger he hadn’t dropped and aimed it at Astrid’s chest.
“Purity.”
Kwajik!
The appearance of the white blade. Pure tenacity. Without hesitation, Aslan thrust the sword into Astrid’s chest, embedding the purity.
“ë¼ì—ì—ì—‘”
Astrid, who didn’t stop despite the deeply embedded blade. However, the intention wasn’t a fatal attack.
Aslan felt the divinity flowing through the purity, manipulated it, and infused it into the method of opening the gates of the underworld he had practiced several times.
As the characters carved all over Astrid’s body shone, Aslan gripped the hilt.
This plan was based on the premise that the underworld is a place where souls instinctively gather and that all beings in Geladridion possess a soul.
The details of the plan devised based on this premise were as follows:
Even if the flock held the souls as collateral, if a gateway to the underworld was opened within the body itself, it would attract souls.
Feeling the souls and pinpointing their exact location.
Even if they couldn’t identify it, they expected that the process of opening and closing the gates of the underworld would significantly weaken the body.
Therefore, success or failure wasn’t crucial. Even if it failed, they could benefit.
‘Astrid.’
But Aslan hoped for success.
He didn’t want to unnecessarily wound his friend.
If possible, he wanted to grant a swift death with a single stroke.
However, contrary to Aslan’s thoughts, the situation unfolded neither as a failure nor a success.
The moment the characters engraved into Astrid’s body shone, Aslan realized the gate opening was different from usual.
Unlike the common gate that emitted a purplish light, this gate was distorted and exuded a dark hue.
A gate that usually had a crystalline texture reminiscent of sapphire. Its interior was filled with darkly twisted crystals.
The shape darkening reminded Aslan incredibly familiar.
“This is the flock’s…”
It evoked the texture of corpses, monsters, or priests mutated by the flock.
The abnormal phenomenon didn’t end there.
“어서와뼔
The sound Astrid murmured.
When Aslan looked up at the sound, Astrid’s underworld gate had overflowed.
The moment Aslan was entangled by the overflowing dark crystals, and the moment he tried to move out of confusion,
Aslan felt as if his consciousness was being swallowed whole.
It was a feeling similar to something he had experienced before.
“…Ugh?!”
Before he knew it, Aslan was sinking into an abyss.
The rapidly sinking sensation, akin to being dragged down by the bubbles of an underwater volcano.
It was the same feeling he had when he grasped Thor Mull’s spear.
So, despite not knowing how this situation arose or where it was heading, Aslan moved instinctively.
The perspective he had felt while holding Thor Mull’s spear.
To uncover the identity of the flock’s gaze, Aslan turned his head.
Following an impossible light, Aslan gazed into the depths of an unfathomable abyss.
There was no sense of distance or shading within the abyss.
It was merely like a plain.
A world where light and darkness had died.
A world tinted in shades of gray.
Upon the gray-tinted plain stretched countless sheep.
The flock standing quietly, unaware of Aslan’s gaze.
The moment Aslan observed them, he realized.
They were not actual sheep, merely resembling them.
Not to mention, they were far from the essence of “Dark Ram Herd.”
‘Are these… people?’
The flock was something dark and dried up.
Rather than sheep, they resembled dolls.
Marionette dolls.
Or perhaps the skin of humans.
Or beings that were once human.
Whichever it was, they were far removed from the essence of the Dark Ram Herd.
Looking at the endless expanse of flock reaching beyond the horizon, Aslan realized that they were merely victims and scapegoats ensnared by the “Dark Ram Herd.”
Just as Aslan noticed this and felt a chill run down his spine,
Within the endless descent, Aslan sensed a gaze.
Whether due to heightened intuition or familiarity, it was unclear.
But one thing was certain.
That gaze had always been watching Aslan.
Countless sacrificial lambs carved into the shapes of black sheep. Through the dense gaps, something lifted its head.
Aslan met that gaze.
The master of the bottomless abyss was looking at Lee Hyun-woo.
On the plain stood something that was not a sheep.
Not the essence, but something infinitely closer to it compared to these hollow sheep.
A silent observer.
The moment Aslan noticed its gaze and it recognized Aslan,
It smiled.
Then Aslan’s fall stopped.
At the end of the fall, Aslan finally reached the bottom of the abyss.
