Ereta is not a fool.
A high priest cannot be someone lacking in intelligence or empathy; it should be those among the priests who have proven their importance and qualities.
In other words, they could be considered the most competent among those under the god’s banner.
Although Ereta’s combat power was a major reason, she did not become a high priest haphazardly.
And because of that, she was able to notice the truth when she saw the girl who had suddenly appeared and dealt her a valid hit.
The girl with scarlet hair had clearly become stronger compared to a few days ago.
If her strength had merely increased, it would have been one thing, but the divine energy occupying the space had become more abundant just after the girl appeared.
Moreover, she was not a hybrid of a priest and a human. She did not possess the priestly traits unique to hybrids, meaning the girl was an ordinary human.
An ordinary human produces this kind of strength?
It was nonsensical.
Ereta realized this.
Recognizing it, she pointed at the girl.
“You are the Oracle of the Ancient God, aren’t you? Correct?”
A chilling voice. A cold expression that did not suit her benign appearance. Angie remained silent at that expression, and Aslan replied with a similar stoic face.
“Does it change anything if you figure that out?”
“What do you mean?”
Aslan spun the swords he held in each hand, and the sound of slicing the air resonated.
“No matter who you are trying to kill first or what schemes you have… unless you eliminate both of us, there’s nothing you can do.”
Ereta’s eyes chilled as she scoffed at his words.
It wasn’t an incorrect statement.
“Truly, this has become bothersome. I only enjoy fighting to a certain extent, you know?”
Aslan did not respond to the woman’s muttering and charged forward. The girl followed closely behind.
Screech!
The first attack was Aslan’s, as if it were only natural. He swung the single-edged sword widely. As the dark blade swept through the air, Ereta tilted her head back to evade it.
“Huah!”
Slash!
She offered her leg to the stabbing polearm below. With a thud, the leg was knocked aside.
As Ereta made a confused expression, Aslan crossed the arm he had swung with the newly wielded arm, raising it briefly.
Even while falling, Ereta used her monstrous strength to anchor one leg to the ground.
In a bizarrely contorted pose, Ereta thrust her forearm into the path of the approaching blade.
Ugh!
Ereta’s forearm was incomparably tougher than an ordinary person’s. It was enough to withstand Aslan’s high-powered strike at least once.
Ignoring the blood gushing from the incision on her forearm, Ereta swung her arm and struck the head of Angie, who was rushing in from behind.
“Guh…”
The blow of the backhand carried the power to easily burst a human’s head.
However, Angie’s body was different from an ordinary human’s. She bled from her nose and contorted her face in pain, yet she did not die.
Ereta’s eyes rolled as she looked at Angie and then at Aslan. Aslan withdrew his sword and charged, while Angie, still reeling, would soon retaliate.
The Virgin Saint of Slaughter, Ereta, clicked her tongue and kicked the ground with the leg she had anchored.
Boom!
The ground cracked hideously, and her body was flung back. Ereta, who had parted ways in a manner impossible for an ordinary human, saw the two men and women staring at her.
“Ugh… Damn, that hurts.”
The girl among them spat blood from her mouth and rubbed her nose.
The man, Aslan, raised his bloodied sword to eye level and looked at the blood on it before shifting his gaze toward Ereta.
Aslan sighed upon realizing that the gash on Ereta’s arm had already healed.
There was never a perfect plan to begin with.
It made sense, as there was no discernible weakness in Ereta.
All that could be done was to do their best to survive and fight Ereta.
Aslan’s plan to hunt Ereta existed only in the preparation stages, with the following steps being close to impromptu.
They would repeatedly slash and tear at her until her monstrous regeneration faltered and then kill her.
It was an unreasonable method for Aslan, who had no regenerative power, and for Angie, who had only recently begun to gain power as the Oracle of the Ancient God.
It was a seemingly mad plan, but there was no other choice.
This was the only plan with a chance of success. Even if Aslan mobilized all his means and methods, he could not devise a better plan than this.
He had Angie wait until her level increased, as she was more likely to falter with her limited battle experience.
After the process of stalling, he had reserved healing for later.
They started in a situation where they had inflicted damage upon Ereta with valid hits using a bow.
There was no better situation than this.
Now, all that was needed were two things.
Concentration and fighting spirit.
Fortunately, Aslan had both.
Aslan charged forward with Angie.
Ereta, irritated, swept away her weapon in the gap between Aslan, who was sharply wielding two swords, and Angie, who was wildly swinging her spear, and countered.
Clang!
In that counterattack, Angie’s spear shattered, and blood gushed from her severely cut forearm.
Yet Angie did not retreat; she gritted her teeth and charged again. As Ereta prepared to knee Angie in the head who was running low, she instead struck upward.
“Guh…!”
Angie’s head jerked back violently. Despite being a lethal attack for an ordinary human, the girl hesitated for a moment but then jumped back into the fray.
As she swung the axe toward the girl charging at her, Aslan’s sword stabbed down.
Clang!
Aslan struck down, and the Saintess awkwardly swung her weapon upwards. The collision of the axe and blade rang out.
Bam!
In the meantime, Angie’s fist connected. Ereta’s head tilted dangerously.
Aslan followed that movement, twisting his waist to strike with his sword. A short slash that came near to being a stab grazed the back of the Saintess’s neck, causing it to tear before regenerating.
The Saintess made a grimace of irritation as she swung her axe back and forth, while Aslan deflected that strong strike with his angled sword. Blood flowed from his hand and forearm holding the sword.
Thus, when Aslan attacked, the Saintess defended, and when the Saintess attacked, Aslan deflected.
In between, an attack that couldn’t be avoided struck Aslan’s side, yet he did not shy away. He fought even while coughing up blood.
The exchange of blows was severed the moment Aslan’s sword broke.
Crack!
The blade shattered at its core. The moment the Saintess thought it was an opportunity and raised her axe high…
Boom!
Angie’s fist violently struck the Saintess’s abdomen. Blood surged from Ereta’s mouth.
Following that, Aslan kicked aside the risen blade.
The knocked-up blade flew and embedded itself in Ereta’s chest, making her furious.
Filled with rage, she kicked Angie away. The forward kick with all her weight flung the girl back.
As Ereta dashed to fill the gap left by the flung girl, Aslan swung his sword.
The diagonal slash tore into the Saintess’s neck again.
Ereta allowed that attack, staggering. No matter how abnormal of a high priest she was with remarkable regenerative capabilities, she couldn’t endure an attack aimed at her vital spot.
Especially as she had not abandoned her human form.
Thus, as the staggering Saintess straightened her posture, Aslan rushed forward, spewing blood from his mouth.
The axe struck horizontally. Aslan received that strike by tilting his blade.
As he tilted the handle, the axe bounced off the downward blade.
Before Ereta could regain her axe, Angie lunged forward from the back.
With her arms pulled back, she swung them forward. It was an incredibly reckless punch, a telegraph punch, but there was no way for the defenseless Saintess to evade.
Ugh!
Angie’s fist struck Ereta’s spine, and she bent over as she attempted another attack. In that moment, Aslan’s sword pierced the Saintess’s neck again.
Blood gushed forth, and her regeneration slowed.
“Guh… Ahhh!”
The woman again struck at Angie’s head in impatience, and Angie fell to the ground, hit in the face.
Ereta, flustered, received Aslan’s swinging strikes.
Technically, Aslan had the upper hand, but in terms of physical ability, Ereta was superior. Normally, she should have been able to crush them as if squashing bugs.
Yet Aslan deflected her attacks, countering time and time again. Ereta felt her regeneration gradually weakening while allowing those strikes to land.
Even just receiving hits caused blood to flow, and bones to break. Aslan’s entire body was already covered in blood.
Still, Aslan did not retreat.
‘How…?!’
Just when it seemed like he had tilted the balance of the fight, Angie stood up again to attack him.
With the slightest opening the girl had created, Aslan’s attacks mercilessly whittled down Ereta’s regeneration.
Ereta experienced panic that transcended anxiety.
This was not how a human should fight.
Suppressing her panic, Ereta received Aslan’s strikes again with her forearm. Because of her weakened regeneration, her arm was severed, but the blade’s force was dulled. Ereta twisted her waist and kicked at Aslan.
Next, she struck Angie’s head with the butt of her axe, taking her down.
Angie fell, seemingly unconscious, rolling her eyes back, while Aslan flew back and collapsed to the ground.
The woman thought as she looked at Aslan.
‘Don’t get up. Please don’t get up….’
Despite her wishes, Aslan stood up. Blood flowed continuously from his mouth due to the kick to his abdomen, and even though there was not a single part of him that was uninjured, he stood.
Unless he was completely made into mincemeat, he would keep getting back up.
Ereta suddenly found it hard to even imagine taking down Aslan.
“Why….”
Standing up, with a broken sword and a blade that started to chip away, Aslan aimed at Ereta.
Ereta could not understand even what she saw, and because she could not comprehend it, she shouted.
“Why won’t you fall?! I told you to just die already!”
Ereta was exhausted. Her regeneration had begun to slow. Her body had begun to bear wounds. Minor wounds were not regenerating, with larger ones being prioritized for regeneration.
To the woman’s confused question in despair, Aslan replied.
“Only I… can do this….”
Aslan raised his head, which had been lowered, and looked her in the eyes. There was not a trace of fear in those eyes.
Unlike Ereta.
‘Am I, scared?’
Frustration surged in the unyielding battle.
She was enraged at Aslan, who confidently absorbed her attacks and countered them time and again, landing valid hits.
She felt anxious about her dwindling regeneration.
She panicked at the sight of them getting back up time and again, even after being knocked down.
At the end of it all, Ereta felt a moment of fear.
In what felt like an unending fight, she was struck with panic at the sight of the two who desperately sought to kill her.
Against mere humans—one a battle-hardened veteran and the other a novice in combat.
Ereta took that fact as humiliation.
Her chest seethed with humiliation and shame.
Once, a spearhead of her god, who would one day set the whole universe aflame and pile up its ashes, was now scared by just two humans, even if for a moment.
Fueled by that emotion, she charged forward with her axe gripped tightly, sprinting to kill the source of that rage. She brought the axe down with fervor, aiming for Aslan’s head.
Aslan raised his lips upon seeing the axe rushing toward him.
The veteran among veterans.
The person at the peak of human skill, one that even gods covet.
And that technique only reveals its true worth in a calm, sharp mental state devoid of erratic emotion.
Wielding a weapon dictated by emotion bore no technique.
Aslan seized the opportunity he had been eagerly awaiting.
With his drowsy eyes sharpening, he released his broken sword from his grip.
‘Is it finally ignited?’
Aslan charged forward to meet Ereta, who was coming at him with fervor. His broken leg trembled painfully.
There was more than one intention.
It was not just to whittle away her regenerative power and cut short her life, no.
Rather, it had another purpose, to diminish her technique.
As emotions swayed her axe’s trajectory, Aslan could read it. He placed his sword along the trajectory he discerned.
Clang!
At the moment of impact, he enhanced it with wild magic. Without spilling the barely received axe, Aslan lunged inward.
Crack, clang!
The blade broke. But he did not stop. Casting aside the sword, Aslan anticipated the fist that the worried Ereta would unleash and swung his arm from the inside out.
Bang!
His arm broke. But wild magic assisted him.
Using all remaining mana, he enhanced his strength, fitted his joints, and dispersed the impact.
While foaming blood surged from his mouth, Aslan smiled.
With his arm on Ereta’s wrist, he pushed off and naturally seized her, pulling and twisting the axe handle. In that seemingly shallow movement lay a veteran’s tenacity and skill.
With the help of martial arts that had grown to their limit, Aslan unleashed perfect jiu-jitsu.
“Ugh….”
He wrested away the axe. A two-handed axe of considerable weight that was evident just by the heft of it.
Aslan gripped that axe with one hand and watched Ereta, whose expression was filled with astonishment as she reached out to reclaim her weapon.
Aslan’s lips moved.
“Shadow Flip.”
As the slanting sun cast Aslan’s shadow, it vanished.
Swoosh!
Then, Ereta’s hands and arms exploded.
Followed by a heavy wound.
The master of blunt instruments, Ereta, realized from that wound.
That the suddenly manifested wound bore the mark of the axe.
That it was the very axe she had swung countless times before, the axe that had taken countless lives.
As if she had just swung the axe, Ereta understood the position of Aslan’s hand, which was poised to strike.
Ereta recognized the technique executed with her own axe, her eyes widening in fear.
An incomprehensible speed unleashed a double hit.
That was the specialty of blunt technique, Shadow Flip.
Aslan gripped the axe low and declared.
“It doesn’t end in one shot.”
As much as his fighting spirit would allow.
He released the skill he had been suppressing.
“Shadow Flip.”
Aslan’s fighting spirit was at 7.
Gained from leveling up was 3, used on the way was 1, and the one just used was 1.
The remaining fighting spirit was 5.
No leftover fighting spirit was 0.
Soon, ten rapid strikes that could not be seen with the eyes poured out.
Without needing to consider their order, arms, legs, and torso were torn apart simultaneously.
Spines shattered, chests cracked open, forearms severed, and legs crumbled. Amid that furious assault, Ereta screamed in fear.
The dwindling regenerative powers revealed the bottom. Beneath it lay death. The inevitable end that exists for everyone beckoned.
A sensation she had never felt in her life. At the moment Ereta’s fear was vividly revealed, Aslan whispered briefly.
“It’s over.”
With his spent fighting spirit and a body that had become a wreck.
The veteran of battle wielded the axe.
Crunch,
The axe blade sliced through the cervical vertebrae. It cut through flesh and shattered bones as it advanced.
In the face of the feeling of death drawing nearer like eternity, Ereta intended to scream, but.
Boom!
Before she could, that cervical vertebra was severed, and death arrived.
Ereta’s head flew off.
As it hit the ground, the head rolled, its white hair dirtied by the earth as it came to a stop.
Her body collapsed afterward, and Aslan knelt, watching the falling body and the still head.
His mana and fighting spirit were completely exhausted, and his body was barely at a level of survivability.
In a situation that seemed impossible.
A hellish trial.
There were no more formidable foes.
Even if he could find the optimal items and settings within the game, a level 5 character could not defeat the Saintess of Slaughter.
[LEVEL UP]
[Main Quest Completed]
[ ! Protect the changed white plains or escape]
Yet Aslan had done it.
Beyond the impossible, he had seized victory.
As he looked at the system window indicating that fact, Aslan let out a ragged breath and collapsed.
‘I’m exhausted.’
It was inevitable he would be tired. He had spilled blood plentifully, swinging weapons countless times over his limits, using all of his fighting spirit to unleash special techniques.
Aslan welcomed that fatigue and drowsiness pleasantly, believing he could have a restful sleep after such a splendid victory.
It was at that moment, as he leaned on the axe and closed his eyes in preparation for rest.
[Quest Complete]
[You have obtained a mysterious item!]
As the unknown characters appeared, at the same time.
Whoosh!
The axe Aslan held began to glow white.
