Final Combat Skill Bonus.
It was a technique that didn’t exist in the game.
In the game, combat skills were more like a set of stats that granted various advantages, but there were no additional bonuses tied to them.
However, after falling into Geladridion, combat skills gained a new bonus.
Its name was Impermanence.
A rare Buddhist term adopted as a bonus even in Eternal Dominion.
Its effect was brutally simple.
First, it doubled the weapon’s durability cost while also doubling the damage dealt.
Second, it allowed the user to freely use all their bonus skills without being restricted by their form or limitations.
Aslan used this bonus to cast Thunder Call with his fists and Knight Slayer with a bow, techniques originally tied to archery and swordsmanship bonuses respectively.
Unbound by form, it was a technique that left first-time observers helpless.
Even if they knew about it, it was impossible to counter. Any attempt to guard against it only left them open for an attack.
This could be considered Aslan’s most powerful tool as a veteran of battle.
“…That’s how it should be.”
Still, Aslan didn’t think he had injured Ereta with the previous attack.
High priests were different from regular priests in terms of physical ability.
Of course, hitting a vital spot still mattered, but even when struck in such areas, they sometimes didn’t die.
The gods of his own priests often granted abilities like regeneration or resurrection. The high priests who worshiped such deities were usually capable of this.
The Spider of Fire was one of them.
Aslan smirked as he watched Ereta slowly lower her head.
A precisely aimed spike arrow protruded from the back of Ereta’s head, yet she straightened up as if nothing happened, smiling nonchalantly.
‘Of course, it wouldn’t end this easily.’
Thinking this, Aslan drew another arrow from the quiver on his back and placed it on the string. There was no waste in his movements—draw, pull, and release.
Twang!
The flawless shot followed through without any preparatory stance, turning into an arrow hurtling toward Ereta.
Clang!
Ereta deflected the incoming arrow. With one eye pierced, streaming vitreous humor, blood, and fluid, the woman swung her axe to deflect the arrow.
Knowing she would deflect it, Aslan showed no reaction and fired the next arrow. Ereta either deflected, dodged, or caught the incoming arrows. The arrow trembled slightly in her outstretched hand.
‘It’s coming!’
Among those she caught, she threw one back at Aslan. Seeing the incoming death, Aslan channeled mana directly into his eyes.
The enhanced vision caught the arrow mid-flight, allowing Aslan to snatch it out of the air and place it on the string to fire again.
Boom!
The arrow no longer targeted Ereta. Instead, it pierced the head of a disciple trying to regroup nearby. Despite partial priestly transformation granting increased regeneration, the destruction of his head caused him to fall lifeless.
As soon as Aslan saw the disciple fall, he shouted.
“Retreat!”
At this sharp command, the archers moved in unison.
They lowered their bows, turned around, and retreated. Aslan also seemed ready to retreat, pulling out a few arrows, loading them sequentially into his longbow, and firing.
Twang, twang, twang!
Each flying arrow killed either a monster or a disciple. Though not as deadly as Aslan’s shots, the retreating archers’ arrows still caused the monsters and disciples to hesitate or falter.
Even Ereta couldn’t close the distance quickly due to Aslan’s relentless barrage.
Aslan and the archers emerged from and returned to the forest just as suddenly as before. Ereta and the pursuing monsters and disciples engaged in an unexpected chase through the dense woods.
‘What is he aiming for? Cavalry support? Or perhaps a mage?’
While chasing Aslan and the archers deeper into the forest, Ereta tried to guess their plan.
Given the forest terrain, cavalry support was unlikely. It might be guerrilla warfare, but the vegetation wasn’t dense enough for that.
Regardless of their target, whether flanking or frontal assault, Ereta believed she was ready to counter.
Until Aslan and the soldiers split up.
Suddenly, Aslan and the archers began moving in different directions. Ereta thought.
Her target was Aslan, the ancient deity’s knight. That Aslan was heading alone in another direction.
Though it was likely a trap, Ereta didn’t worry much.
She believed she was sufficient on her own.
In fact, she considered it more dangerous to be surrounded by those archers.
No matter how skilled Aslan was as a veteran and knight of the ancient deity, he hadn’t shown much strength during their previous encounters.
Well-trained soldiers’ synchronized volleys were far more threatening than Aslan.
Misjudging this, she acted immediately.
To prevent the archers from catching their breath, she sent the disciples and monsters under her command towards them while personally chasing Aslan.
Aslan ran, weaving between trees, leaping over them. His movement was excellently honed, but it was nowhere near enough to shake off a high priest.
The distance gradually closed. Aslan didn’t look back while being chased, and Ereta didn’t rush impatiently while pursuing.
The chase ended in a clearing.
An open space where trees stood sparsely. Stopping in this clearing, Aslan steadied his ragged breathing and threw away his bow.
“…Oh, you’re not running anymore?”
Ereta asked with a sly smile at the stationary Aslan, who gave no response.
Instead of answering, he discarded his bow and quiver, drawing his executioner’s sword from its scabbard at his waist.
Aslan flicked the blade with just his wrist, dropping the scabbard to the ground.
Seeing this, Ereta smiled faintly.
“Are you giving up?”
There was no reason to discard the scabbard. You need somewhere to store your weapon after the fight. This was clearly a move that disregarded victory.
“When the fight ends, the sword won’t be intact anyway. And axes don’t need scabbards.”
On the other hand, Aslan seemed relaxed.
Discarding the scabbard, throwing away the bow and arrows—his appearance suggested despair and a last-ditch effort, yet his face remained calm.
More surprisingly, he confidently declared that he would take Ereta’s axe, as if victory was already assured.
Ereta didn’t like this calmness. It irritated her somehow.
So she mocked him.
“Do you really think you can win? Last time, you ran away because you couldn’t.”
Aslan neither got angry, scorned, nor refuted her mocking tone.
Instead, he lightly nodded as if acknowledging the truth of her words, merely opening and closing his eyes.
Perhaps annoyed by this, Ereta frowned slightly despite her usual benevolent expression.
Just as she was about to say something, a tattoo on Aslan’s knuckles suddenly flashed with light, accompanied by a voice.
“Acceleration.”
The magic stored in Aslan’s tattoo ignited, coursing through his entire body as he exhaled deeply. His heated breath met the cold air, forming a long stream of vapor.
Only after the magic sufficiently warmed his body did Aslan settle into a stance, gripping the executioner’s sword with both hands and lowering it while his eyes gleamed.
“You’ll see.”
With that brief declaration, Aslan charged forward.
Lifting the executioner’s sword, Aslan rushed in swiftly.
His first attack was a downward strike, putting his full weight behind a fast and heavy blow.
Ereta, startled by the sudden attack, raised her axe.
Clang!
Metal clashed with metal, producing a deafening sound. While Aslan’s wrist tingled from the impact, Ereta’s remained unaffected due to the significant difference in strength.
As the thought crossed his mind to overpower her with brute force, Aslan disengaged his blade and swung it horizontally towards her neck.
Tshh!
Ereta prepared to block the neck-targeting slash but hesitated, recalling the Knight Slayer technique she had endured earlier.
The blade grazed her throat narrowly and then moved according to the grip on the hilt, aiming for her temple.
Clang!
She deflected this with the handle of her axe. Using the rebound from blocking, she thrust the axe upward briefly.
Dodging this upward swing with unusual agility, Aslan retaliated instantly. The edge of his blade caught Ereta’s forearm, splitting it with a crack before it regenerated and bled profusely.
Before the pain from the split arm could register, Ereta brightened, her previous irritation seemingly forgotten.
‘This is what a master’s battle should be like.’
A clash of techniques. A competition of accumulated skills and survival instincts. Even though her split arm had healed, Aslan continued attacking without hesitation, which pleased Ereta.
For every attack Aslan launched, Ereta deflected it while looking for a counterattack opportunity. In turn, Aslan countered her counters, attempting to suppress her with counterattacks of his own.
Boom!
After a downward strike, an upward cut, and a blocked thrust followed by another upward swing, the final exchange concluded with Ereta’s jaw being struck, tilting her head back. Seizing the moment, Aslan gripped the hilt tightly and brought it down.
He aimed for her head.
But Ereta grinned and twisted her head at the last second, taking the blow on her shoulder instead. The heavy five-kilogram blade plunged into her flesh, crushing and tearing muscle and bone, but she grabbed the blade with her regenerating shoulder.
“I’ve got you!”
Regenerating her shoulder rapidly—a feat only possible for a high priest—she clutched the blade. For a moment less than a second, Aslan froze.
In a battle between masters, that was more than enough of an opening.
Ereta extended her leg forward and delivered a front kick.
Wham!
The kick landed squarely in Aslan’s abdomen, sending his body flying backward. The blade embedded in her shoulder broke into fragments, scattering as it followed its owner.
In mid-air, Aslan flipped his body and executed a landing roll. Upon touching the ground, a trench formed as Aslan spat blood and blade shards onto the dirt. Watching his graceful landing, Ereta widened her eyes.
“Wow, I aimed to kill with that kick! Surviving it is a first.”
Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth at Ereta’s casual comment,
“Guess you’re tough because you’re the ancient deity’s knight. Looks like this will be fun.”
Unlike the cheerful Ereta, Aslan was in agony. He had boosted his skin’s durability with wild magic, strengthened his bones, and even threw himself backward to reduce the impact.
Yet, despite all these efforts, he felt internal injuries. Aslan chuckled inwardly.
Fortunately, the plan had succeeded.
Wiping the blood from his mouth with his forearm, he smiled faintly and spoke.
“In fact, I’m not the ancient deity’s knight.”
“Huh?”
When Ereta expressed her confusion, Aslan glanced at a corner of his vision.
Levels only increase during main quests. Thus, Aslan hadn’t been able to level up until now.
However, as long as the main quest was ongoing, it didn’t matter who delivered the killing blow; leveling up was possible.
Whether by allied NPCs, temporary companions, or enemies annihilating each other.
Whenever an enemy died, it provided experience.
To Aslan, the current fight was merely a delay tactic to buy time.
Time for the Duke’s soldiers to fight the monsters, defeat them, and accumulate enough experience to fill his nearly complete bar.
Smirking slightly as he noticed the notification in his peripheral vision,
[LEVEL UP]
[Ongoing Main Quest]
[! Protect or Flee from the Duke’s Order]
While Ereta remained puzzled and motionless, Aslan reached for the system window. Quickly opening the character window, he selected Angela Tail’s name.
Swiftly, he allocated 3 points into Strength and then pressed his own name, investing 3 points into Resolve.
This was a prearranged signal with Angie.
A clear signal detectable from afar.
The signal to join the fight upon feeling a change in her body.
Leaves began to fall from the trees suddenly.
Only then did Ereta notice something was amiss and moved to step forward, raising her weapon to cleave Aslan in two.
“Thought I’d wait till my neck dropped off!”
But Angie jumped down first. The girl, hanging from a tall tree, landed with wobbling knees and swung her spear.
The descent was visible and not particularly fast.
Yet Ereta didn’t move.
Having experienced this girl’s strikes before, specifically.
‘What a ridiculous strategy.’
Ereta smirked as she watched the descending girl and her swinging spear.
Human growth isn’t dramatic. She could endure it.
Thus, the woman chose to ‘take the hit and counterattack.’
Blocking the spear shaft with her body while simultaneously swinging her axe to sever the girl’s neck.
Breaking the master’s strategy and humiliating it.
Considering how to mock it, Ereta absorbed the spear’s blow with her body.
The moment she did, she realized the quality of the strike had changed.
And by the time she realized, it was too late.
Wham!
Struck by the spear wielded like a club to her side, Ereta was sent flying.
The sound of breaking wood echoed, and the trees Ereta collided with splintered and fell.
Using this sound as background music, Angie cracked her neck left and right.
Dropping the broken executioner’s sword to the ground, Aslan drew twin blades.
“Regeneration.”
The tattoo faintly glowed as restorative magic coursed through Aslan’s body, healing torn flesh and fractured bones.
Watching Aslan’s visibly recovering body, Ereta emerged from the broken trees, her face etched with irritation.
Choosing to use restoration now, rather than during the heat of battle moments ago,
It proved everything was planned, and he hadn’t fought seriously.
Clearly calculated once he realized she wouldn’t dodge but take the hits.
Realizing this, Ereta angrily lifted her axe as she shoved aside the fallen trees.
Recognizing her irritation, Aslan sneered and said,
“Let’s finish this.”
