“That’s absurd.”
“Retreat, we must retreat! Right now!”
It was Angie’s thought as she observed the panicked wizard spouting nonsense.
“We need to withdraw the soldiers and immediately escape through the rear of the fortress! We must preserve our forces even at this late stage…”
Angie wasn’t just dissatisfied with the fact of retreating; her intuition was also quietly warning her.
Will they really let us escape unharmed?
Even if we do escape unscathed, can we truly say it isn’t part of that Evil Deity’s plan?
Just as she thought this, Angie suddenly gripped the hilt of the greatsword on her back.
The movement caused the knights, commander, and junior officers to raise their guard significantly as they turned to look at the woman. Soon after, their eyes widened when they noticed something approaching from behind her.
It was a rock.
An incredibly large and heavy rock.
A rock that would split into dozens of fragments upon hitting the ground, more than enough to kill several people.
Without hesitation, Angie drew and swung her greatsword upon seeing and hearing it.
The clash produced a metallic sound that was small in itself but had far-reaching effects.
Flying shards of rock. Gravel and stone fragments scattered about, broken into smaller pieces.
Though quite lethal in themselves, the remaining threat was absorbed by the knights and junior officers.
Clang, clang – the movements of armor, swords, blunt weapons, and shields deflecting the scattered gravel and rocks.
The mage, who had nearly been caught up in it, found himself protected and instinctively closed his mouth, turning his attention to the woman.
The woman, however, was looking at the sky.
In the sky, countless boulders similar in size to the one she had just shattered were flying towards them.
The incoming projectiles made it seem like a siege was underway.
As soon as the countless rocks began to pierce the fortress, chaos quickly spread.
“What… what is this…?”
The commander, flustered, trailed off. Angie glanced at him briefly before shouting, suppressing her own panic.
“Phey!”
Although not loud enough to be heard simply by calling out, the elf with heightened senses could hear the cry amidst the cacophony and possessed the speed to rush over immediately.
Phey arrived swiftly, bounding off walls and rooftops before landing, ignoring those who demanded explanations as Angie spoke.
“What’s the situation?”
“They’re throwing stones. Lots of them, using catapults.”
Without any sign of pondering what was being asked or intended, the girl spoke while the woman listened.
After three months of intense experiences, Angie had seen things so grand that unnecessary words between them were unnecessary.
Angie nodded, recalling Aslan, and the eavesdropping commander shouted.
“Imitating catapults? That’s ridiculous! Launching projectiles isn’t that easy, and for them all to come at once like this! Monsters couldn’t possibly manage such a feat…”
“No, they can. We’re dealing with the Abyss,” Angie interjected.
The commander’s words were cut off not by Angie or Phey but by the mage.
“The Abyss itself is a world. All the specters subjugated to it function with a unified will and intellect, becoming part of the Abyss. So coordinating simultaneous attacks like this is… no big deal.”
Perhaps as gratitude for their protection, the mage explained with an enigmatic expression, glancing around the group.
His gaze lingered particularly on Angie.
Angie, deep in thought, recalled something from the past.
She remembered the Blood Flies.
During the time she recruited Phey, she had encountered swarm-type monsters firsthand.
Their method was similar to the Abyss’s, though the Abyss’s approach was likely more varied.
Thus, the situation was troublesome. Amidst the raining boulders, Angie coolly assessed the situation.
Our forces have been greatly depleted by surprise attacks.
Morale is low.
Now that we’ve heard the mage’s plan, it’s almost impossible for the commanding officers to cooperate normally.
Even in the disciplined Imperial Army, there’s no guarantee they’d follow Angie’s unilateral decisions.
However, Angie didn’t see following the mage’s advice to retreat as the best option in this situation.
Because Angie hadn’t detected any intent to cause casualties in this mass bombardment.
The primary intention seemed clearly to force a retreat.
The woman, reading this through primal instincts, voiced her thoughts aloud as if feeling her way forward.
“We can’t retreat.”
“…What?”
“This is forcing us to retreat. If we do, we’ll suffer heavy losses.”
“But how can you expect us to believe that…?”
The muttering mage was ignored as Angie, without turning around, watched the falling rocks and thought.
Besides her instincts, she had experience to draw from.
From her time with Aslan, she knew there were three main characteristics of priests and evil deities.
Firstly, cunning.
Tricking through sympathy or launching delayed attacks using rational minds left behind.
Secondly, greed.
They often crave more than what they can gain from the current situation.
And finally, power.
Fundamentally, both evil deities and priests are strong, possessing confidence and arrogance stemming from their immense power.
This strength sometimes acts as a poison, often leading them to choose brute and simple methods.
Not knowing the Abyss’s true intentions yet, Angie judged based on this third characteristic.
Using catapults was too crude and roundabout for an evil deity.
“A little while ago, they summoned a Tyrant Dragon. They haven’t done that again. Summoning it would be far more efficient than using catapults to break through.”
Summoning a dragon would make toppling the fortress trivial.
Yet, they were clearly holding back their power.
Or perhaps they were guiding things to appear hopeful within reasonable limits.
Upon hearing this, the commander exclaimed in realization, and the mage gaped in shock.
Regaining his composure, the intellectual spoke.
“Certainly, it must be due to resistance.”
“Resistance?”
In response to Angie’s question, he nodded nervously, wiping cold sweat.
“The backlash from the Veil of Sorrow and Death cast over the world. Even the Abyss, surely, cannot maintain divine power for long in Geladridion.”
Under Angie’s golden gaze urging him to continue, the mage nodded confidently.
“As a world unto itself, the Abyss can circumvent this backlash but cannot avoid it entirely. Hence, they’re conserving their strength by force.”
That made sense.
Which meant the dragon probably wouldn’t appear immediately.
While it might be summoned if pressed, for now, it seemed unlikely.
At this moment to stop the bombardment, Angie paused briefly before speaking.
“Gather the soldiers. Reinforce the fortress defenses, minimize the impact of the bombardment, and hurry to prepare intercepting measures.”
She ordered the commanders. Her quiet commands mimicked Aslan’s style.
Initially, the commanders resisted taking orders from an outsider, but they soon closed their mouths, recalling Angie’s transcendent power.
A human capable of shattering boulders barehanded.
Truly a reincarnation of war and knowledge.
The words of a superhuman whom even the emperor would readily provide an army. With no higher-ranking officers present, the field commanders silently nodded.
They departed. They gathered the soldiers, armed them, tended to the wounded, and prepared for battle.
Then Angie glanced at Phey.
“Go tell everyone to prepare for battle. You too, Phey.”
Instead of responding, Phey stared at Angie blankly. There was little emotion in the azure eyes that met hers.
“You’re like Aslan.”
The rare flicker of emotion, faint reaction, and resulting words startled Angie. Phey continued staring at her as she spoke.
“Why go this far?”
It was a question once posed to Aslan.
“If you want, everyone can escape safely. Everyone has the ability to do so.”
“Everyone.” Likely referring to the traveling party.
Angie felt discomfort at these words as she looked at Phey.
The emotionless elven girl stood there, her hair tied in two braids, wearing a blood-stained dress, a longsword at her waist, and a greatsword on her back.
Angie sensed the dissonance and realized it stemmed from this emotionless elven girl’s concern for the group.
In truth, this question applied most directly to Phey.
Without Aslan now, if she wished, Phey could leave safely first.
No being in this world could catch Phey.
Yet, here she was.
Phey questioned Angie about why she did such things.
Through this, Angie could feel the emotions Phey was slowly building.
These were Aslan’s companions, veterans, and beings burdened with the mission of saving the world.
Whether willingly or unwillingly.
They were comrades.
Even now, despite Aslan’s absence, while stumbling and decaying miserably, they remained comrades.
It wasn’t just because they had each other’s backs.
It was because they had someone to share life with.
Angie closed her eyes and opened them again.
“Aslan would have done it this way.”
The words slipped out naturally.
Meeting Phey’s unwavering gaze, Angie hoisted the greatsword onto her shoulder.
Gripping and releasing the greatsword, its familiar swaying motion came easily.
“And I think it’s right too.”
Young Angie followed Aslan, thinking she could become a hero or embark on adventures.
They went through many things together.
Priests were killed.
People were killed.
Monsters were defeated.
It wasn’t the adventure she had hoped for.
Becoming a hero was still far away.
But she understood what needed to be done to become one.
Once, Aslan mentioned that his pure white sword would disappear when he lost consciousness or died.
She saw that it didn’t vanish even in death.
She witnessed the indomitable spirit that surpassed death.
She saw the man who fought even in death, burning brightly for others.
The girl grew into a woman.
The woman matured into an adult.
Angie understood.
If she ran away here, the Aslan inside her would die forever.
Though she didn’t voice it, Phey gazed at Angie before blinking.
“I’ll help.”
A crack appeared in the emotionless facade, and Phey leapt away with a soft thud.
Watching Phey disappear, Angie moved forward.
Carrying the greatsword on her shoulder, heading toward the fortress gate.
“Huff!”
Smashing incoming rocks with the greatsword to protect the soldiers.
Even if the plan doesn’t work and they have to retreat, to protect more people.
“Angie!”
Lumel caught up to Angie as she advanced.
The spear master breaking rocks with his spear.
“Senior sister.”
Richard quietly followed too.
Demonstrating the art of catching falling rocks and placing them gently on the ground.
“I heard! I’ll clear the path, so get ready!”
Approaching the wall, Tiamat’s shout was heard.
The dragonkin, noticing the party’s approach without turning her head, fitted a flaming arrow to the string, imbuing it with thunder.
Protected soldiers, hastily gathered soldiers, Empire soldiers safeguarded by Richard and Lumel.
Among them, Phey secretly darted around the battlefield, rescuing and directing soldiers to the fortress gate.
With all of them gathered, Angie prepared to counterattack.
To kill the monsters acting as catapults and return to fortify within the city.
Holding a mediocre yet inevitable success plan, Angie prepared to open the fortress gates and charge outside.
Had the Abyss not acted first, it would have happened.
Turning her head at a strange sensation, the sun was suddenly blocked, and night fell.
The black sea parted, and something emerged.
A Tyrant Dragon covered in Abyssal black liquid.
Eyes and scales dyed black.
Darker than its original black scales, resembling something crafted from the night itself, the transcendent dragon.
A being that, as the mage said, couldn’t reveal itself for long due to the backlash.
This existence suddenly appeared and stared at Angie.
Black pupils with whitened sclera.
Despite the unreadable gaze, Angie felt the dragon’s focus on her.
The dragon recognized Angie as a threat.
The Abyss, a unified will.
Based on the judgment of that unified will, the entire Abyss prioritized attacking Angie.
Goo ooo ooo ooo!
A roar akin to wind sweeping through ruins sounded, shaking the earth. The dragon turned its body.
Its tail, shaped like a spear, charged forward.
Twisting its massive body mid-swing and spreading its wings to add momentum.
By the end, the acceleration was invisible to the eye.
Zuuuuck!
The fortress wall collapsed.
As if sliced, the flying and severed stones scattered.
The effect of just one tail strike was immense. Among the scattering stones flew death.
“Guh…!”
A flying stone sent Tiamat flying until Phey caught her.
Angie deflected the collapsing wall with her greatsword.
Richard caught a giant rock heading toward the soldiers and deflected it away.
Fortunately, the casualties weren’t significant. Countless lives weren’t lost.
However, the fortress wall that had thoroughly blocked the monsters’ advance had crumbled.
As if cut through paper with a single slash, it lay stretched out.
Through the rising dust, visible were the dragon and the army of night-black specters.
“Oh, oh… the fortress…!”
With a soldier’s exclamation, monsters surged through the breached wall.
To finish off the wounded, despairing, dying soldiers.
Goo ooo ooo ooo!
The dragon’s wailing cry.
The sound abruptly ceased.
The advancing monsters fell silent.
The unnatural silence was eerie and awkward.
Terrified soldiers, those preparing for their final battle, even the veterans expecting a fight to the death.
The monsters poised to overwhelm the fortress, the haughty dragon raising its head behind them.
All of them looked somewhere.
It was unclear who started it.
But where their gazes pointed, a group of people had stopped, and a man and woman were slowly approaching the battlefield.
Riding horses, they approached the battlefield slowly.
Two figures cloaked in tattered mantles, armed.
The wind blew, revealing white hair beneath the hood of the woman.
A man with a worn-out sword at his side.
Rare white hair in Geladridion, Angie and the group stared silently as the burly man dismounted.
He dismounted, drew his sword.
The sword was pitiful.
It was chipped, rusted, old, and of poor quality, looking like it could break at any moment.
Too dull and rusty to take even an animal’s life.
Yet, he raised it high.
Slowly gripping the hilt from the pinky to the index finger.
Firmly grasping the hilt without gaps and placing the thumb on the tip of the index finger.
With the arm revealed as he raised the high sword,
a fully-muscled but pristine white arm without a single scar.
He showed everyone how to grip a sword with that arm, as if teaching that this is how a sword should be held.
Who is this man?
Appearing suddenly like this?
He’s going to die pointlessly.
Amidst the chaotic thoughts floating across the battlefield, the man spoke.
When the entire battlefield focused on this man, his voice resonated beyond reason in everyone’s ears.
Like some immutable law.
“Purity.”
A low voice.
Using this as a signal, the man’s sword transformed.
Surrounded by pure white flames, it changed.
A mere sword, old and worn, seemingly incapable of harming anyone, became
the sharpest blade to slay an evil deity.
Brightly burning with the will of humanity.
When the flames subsided, what remained was no longer an old sword.
A greatsword wrapped in purity. A treasure hard even for gods to craft.
The sword of a hero who fought evil, surpassing even death.
Seeing this sword, everyone on the battlefield realized.
The master of combat had returned.
Goo ooo ooo ooo ooo―!
And the moment they realized, the dragon and the monsters all simultaneously changed direction and charged.
Towards an entity more threatening than thousands of humans.
