The Dark Ram Herd. Meeting Astrid within the passage to the underworld, crafted by it, was not entirely unexpected but could still be considered an unforeseen encounter.
Whether positive or negative, this phenomenon could be deemed positive.
Aslan saw Astrid while gazing at the sea that had turned black with death, its waves receding and flowing away.
The woman who had died to fall into the grasp of the Dark Ram Herd—Astrid.
She was there just as Aslan remembered her, unchanged in his memory.
Her long black hair, delicate face, elegant beauty, and a cheerful smile that suited her well.
All of these aligned perfectly with Aslan’s memories of her.
Thus, Aslan couldn’t help but ask.
Tracing back from the most recent events toward the past.
“Why did you do that?”
“…If by ‘that’…”
“You know.”
“There are too many possibilities. It would be better if you asked one thing at a time.”
With a sound like crunching sand beneath her feet, Astrid sat down leisurely.
Aslan quietly closed his mouth upon seeing this relaxed posture of Astrid, while she looked at Aslan with her unique mischievous gaze.
There wasn’t much Aslan could do. While suppressing feelings of anguish and frustration along with various other negative emotions, he managed to open his mouth.
“Why…did you use magic?”
That was Aslan’s first question.
Aslan knew that Astrid possessed considerable magical prowess; if she wished, she could have initiated combat with more direct magic.
But Astrid didn’t.
The magic Astrid used was akin to an execution. It was a spell that gradually lowered the temperature, freezing humans to death.
Aslan viewed this magic as inhumane and found no trace of Astrid’s former kindness in it.
Perhaps Astrid herself was aware of this.
True to Aslan’s expectation, Astrid, after hearing the question, looked down with a sorrowful expression.
This was not an expression born out of sympathy for herself but rather one acknowledging her own sins.
Lowering her eyes with such an expression, Astrid spoke.
“It was complicated. I’ll explain in detail later, but briefly speaking…there was no time.”
No time?
Aslan looked at Astrid with doubt, and Astrid pulled her knees up, resting her chin on them.
“I’ll explain everything in due course. For now…do you have any other questions?”
Although Aslan felt uneasy about Astrid’s reaction, he didn’t show it.
After all, they had time.
Unless the Dark Ram Herd decided to let them go, their way out remained distant.
Looking at the sea, Aslan said,
“Why didn’t you repel the soldiers?”
“That, too, has the same reason why I used magic.”
“Then why didn’t you attack from the start?”
“I didn’t know you were there. I thought everything was going according to my plan. At least, I believed I had some control over the situation even if it deviated slightly.”
Such an unsatisfactory answer left Aslan uncomfortable as he turned his head away from the sea to look at Astrid, who then gave him a wry smile in response to his gaze.
She seemed to be waiting for another question, fidgeting with her hands placed on her knees.
It took Aslan a long time to frame the next question, and Astrid hesitated to answer while anxiously awaiting it.
When Aslan finally voiced the question, the woman shrank back.
Already small in stature, she appeared even smaller, making it seem as though Aslan was tormenting her.
“Why did you become a priest?”
However, Aslan hesitated no longer.
Ultimately, it was a necessary question, one that touched on the core issue.
Instead of answering immediately, Astrid slowly straightened her shoulders and looked directly ahead with moist eyes.
The bleak shore where carcasses like whales floated ashore after death.
A scenery that perhaps resembled the darkest form of purgatory.
Whose mental landscape it might be, or whether it was the Dark Ram’s mischief, was impossible to guess—an enigmatic scene.
Against this backdrop, Aslan thought.
The reason Aslan and Astrid became friends was simple.
They were of the same kind.
Their initial meeting was also straightforward.
When Aslan received a commission from the Emperor of the Northern Empire to exterminate monsters and returned after successfully completing the task, a feast was held in Havrisgr.
This Northern Empire-style feast, filled with alcohol and fights, was not particularly appealing to Aslan.
Not only because Aslan couldn’t hold his liquor well, but also because the customs of the Northern Empire were combative and violent.
Preferring normal human interactions, Aslan couldn’t find a reason to participate and thus merely made a brief appearance before stepping outside the castle to catch his breath.
There, Aslan met Astrid for the first time.
A small woman who smiled cheerfully, admitting she too couldn’t drink well, laughed awkwardly.
Aslan conversed with the woman.
Whether due to the slight intoxication from the unavoidable drinking or Astrid’s inherent charm, Aslan ended up talking about many things.
And while conversing, Aslan felt a sense of intimacy and familiarity with Astrid.
At the time, he didn’t know, but now he understood where that familiarity stemmed from.
Astrid harbored a goal almost akin to opposing the Veil of Compassion.
The woman wanted to conquer something far-off—a phenomenon that no one had dared to challenge or conquer.
She wished to subdue this phenomenon, protect her homeland, and preserve her country.
This ambition resonated with Aslan.
It reminded him of himself, someone attempting what seemed meaningless and impossible against evil deities.
It was a sense of kinship.
Astrid must have felt the same kinship towards Aslan.
So when Aslan learned that Astrid had become a priest, he deeply mourned it.
Because ultimately, it meant that someone with similar goals had failed, given in, and surrendered.
In the failure of this peer, Aslan saw his own failure and felt his own limitations.
Hence, Aslan asked again with a somber expression,
“Why did you become a priest?”
Pressed hard by the question, Astrid didn’t reply but instead looked at the sea that had died black.
The deep, dark sea whose depths couldn’t be seen.
Suddenly, after staring at the sea for a long time, the woman spoke.
“Aslan, you and I are similar.”
Aslan crossed his arms without responding and looked at the shore the woman was gazing at.
Gazing at the same shore, the woman continued naturally, as if she hadn’t expected an answer in the first place.
“You too, me too…we both challenged impossible goals.”
Though their trajectories differed—one aiming to defeat all evil deities—they were equally impossible.
Both the woman and Aslan were aware of this fact, so the woman smiled sheepishly and said,
“My friend, you must know that the Veil of Compassion is a powerful deity. The traces of its destruction of the world, the ‘Far-off World,’ were created during the time when this deity wielded the greatest influence.”
Defeating that is akin to defeating the deity itself.
Astrid’s casual words were true.
The Far-off World, a phenomenon in the game that couldn’t be resolved until the late stages.
Aslan understood what the woman would say next but remained silent.
Grateful for this consideration, the woman continued,
“You and I are similar. But my dear friend, do you know what the crucial difference between you and me is?”
Aslan silently looked at Astrid, and the elegant-faced woman smiled sadly.
Her gaze itself seemed to be the answer, as she smiled faintly with a hint of sadness.
“Exactly that point.”
“Astrid…”
“There are only two ways to overcome divine power: immense mana or another divine power.”
An explanation leading to understanding the reason for choosing priesthood. As Aslan remained silent, the woman twirled her hair with one hand.
“My mana was abundant for a human, but not strong enough to push back the Far-off World even slightly.”
Of course, that was to be expected since even Green beings with extraordinary mana couldn’t accomplish such a feat.
“And finding another method was impractical. My talent and effort weren’t enough to discover an entirely new way.”
Speaking with the impossible mission of overcoming the Far-off World,
Discussing her fatigue and failure.
In a very bitter tone.
“Struggling against the world is…tiring. It felt like stumbling forward in darkness where you can’t see even a step ahead.”
“So…”
“So I became a priest. My friend, you probably know already. Using magic, not repelling the soldiers—all those reasons stem from this.”
Closing his mouth, Aslan watched as the woman hugged her knees and chuckled bitterly.
It was a self-deprecating laugh at her own plight.
“I wanted to be the sole priest of the Northern Empire, spreading the improved monster transformation method I had developed. Of course…it wasn’t just that.”
Even here, it was evident that things hadn’t gone as intended.
As Aslan watched, Astrid muttered quietly, as if speaking to herself.
“I wanted to resist the changes brought by the Far-off World in my own way. As I’ve said, the only things that can counter divine power are divine power and mana. I wanted to make sure everyone in the Northern Empire could endure the Far-off World.”
Still an uncertain method. As Aslan looked at Astrid, Astrid smiled and rested her cheek on her knees.
“The other priests simply didn’t think that way.”
“Is that…the reason for the internal conflict?”
What sounded like the full story of a factional struggle.
As Aslan opened his mouth after a daze, Astrid shook her head.
“No, partially correct, but partially wrong. In the end, only the last survivor can achieve their wish.”
An answer that seemed to anticipate what Aslan might say.
An answer that Aslan couldn’t accept.
Wish.
Furrowing his brow at a term he had never heard before.
“Wish…?”
To Aslan’s knowledge, his mother never experienced such an event.
Astrid succinctly explained Aslan’s confusion with a single word.
“Tyrant.”
Aslan flinched, and Astrid, with her chin resting on her knees, stared blankly at the shore.
The tyrant, the high priest who gave birth to her.
Following the mention of this existence, Aslan’s expression revealed his bewilderment.
“The tyrant promised to grant a wish to the sole survivor. They proclaimed that only the strong could enforce their will, and the wishes of the weak would be trampled. So…”
Thus, Astrid had no choice.
Regardless of right or wrong, her actions’ motivations could be understood.
The high priest, a priest above all others.
Unlike ordinary priests who could potentially fail against heroes, the high priest was a true monster that even miracle-wielding heroes couldn’t defeat.
An absolute powerhouse that only someone with equal divine power or the reincarnation of a deity could triumph against.
If the high priest had decreed such, there was nothing Astrid as a priest could do.
Especially if the high priest was a tyrant, Astrid would have had no recourse, given that the priests who gave birth to her were an insurmountable presence.
“There was no room for choice.”
The woman muttered these words absentmindedly and sighed.
“Of course, I never expected it to end like this.”
Despite saying this, the woman wore a relieved smile. As Aslan watched her, Astrid suddenly stood up.
“At this point, regretting won’t make much difference.”
Aslan understood the hidden meaning behind her words.
Astrid, who was already aware of her impending death, knew that whatever regrets she might have, all that awaited her now was death and eternal rest.
“Astrid.”
Aslan spoke, and Astrid responded not with words but with a quiet gaze at the sea.
Then, after a pause, she spoke.
“If I hadn’t given up, would you have helped me? Could we have fought together?”
There was no need for a response as she adjusted her collar.
Both sides already knew the answer.
Listening to the sound of the approaching black sea, Astrid and Aslan stood side by side.
The sea seemed to possess some kind of magic, captivating their gaze automatically with its dark allure.
Aslan snapped out of it when Astrid spoke again.
Turning his head to follow the voice, he found Astrid standing before him.
As their eyes met, Aslan realized he already had Purity drawn in his hand.
“Did you come to finish me?”
“…Yes.”
Aslan’s reluctant expression.
Yet, the sword in his hand that cut through souls.
Astrid placed her hand gently on the sword-clutching hand.
With cold fingers, she traced the magical tattoos etched on his arm and pulled it towards her body.
There was no groan, no scream.
No sensation of flesh being torn.
Only the piercing of Astrid’s body by Purity and the crumbling remnants of her soul remained.
Using Purity to pierce herself, Astrid brushed her fingers over the magical tattoo.
The touch was imbued with thick mana.
Aslan noticed the anomaly at this moment.
Rooting—it began. The magical tattoos etched on Aslan’s body started to change.
“I don’t have much to give you, having already failed and given up. All I can offer is a small help.”
The crackling sound of burning mana was fueled by Astrid’s soul itself.
Enhancing the magical tattoo to add new functions.
An action possible only with the resolve to perish.
As Aslan looked at Astrid, Astrid greeted him with her usual smile.
There was no hint of regret in her eyes as they met.
As if nothing had happened, the woman smiled.
“Astrid.”
“I won’t have any peace anyway. So you don’t need to apologize.”
“Astrid!”
Even as Aslan called her name urgently, Astrid didn’t respond.
She merely held Aslan’s hand softly with her cold fingers.
The fading warmth. The cold fingers. As Aslan felt the touch and raised his head to meet her eyes, Astrid smiled.
“My friend heading towards the impossible. This is all I can give you.”
Astrid, disintegrating from the abdomen pierced by Purity, continued to smile brightly.
She poured everything she wanted to say into her farewell.
Affection, admiration, a touch of envy, encouragement, regret, and pride.
All these emotions compressed into a farewell that choked the throat.
“Be happy.”
With these final words, the woman disappeared.
Her soul scattered into dust. As Aslan’s tattoo flickered blue, the world, having lost its medium, gradually faded away.
Crack! Crack!
The breaking and scattering world. As Aslan ascended rapidly—not by his own will—he observed the descent below with a bewildered expression. His perception, which had stretched, returned to normal as colors gradually returned to the world, once dyed black.
BOOM!
The world collapsed, revealing the shell that enveloped it.
That shell—Geladridion.
Regaining consciousness within the shell, Aslan saw Astrid’s disintegrating corpse.
Clad in gleaming black crystals covering her entire body, etched with dense letters, the monstrous corpse slowly crumbled into dust.
As Aslan blinked at the sight of the corpse, a system window appeared before his eyes.
[Astrid’s Farewell]
[From the moment of acquisition, you may use any lower-tier or mid-tier magic spells previously used up to five times per day without cost.]
The system window, appearing mockingly.
Aslan clenched his fists upon seeing it.
His tightly clenched fists smelled of Astrid.
[!– Slider main container –]
