The approaching black horde. The sight of them surging like waves was enough to instill fear in any human.
Fiercer than the blowing wind, and stickier than a flood that rises high and sweeps everything away—these monsters.
But Aslan who stood against them felt no hesitation.
It wasn’t that there was no fear.
One who feels no fear cannot fight. Only those who can rise above their fear and wield a sword become warriors.
And Aslan was an exceptionally skilled warrior.
The warrior gripped the sword and stood facing the charging monsters.
With a calm gaze, Aslan scrutinized the monsters, the enemies.
There was a sense of familiarity in their forms and mannerisms.
Of course, it was only natural.
Aslan knew the Abyss exceedingly well, after all.
The custom of the Abyss that Aslan knew well was cannibalism.
In terms of eating the dead, the priests of the Abyss weren’t much different from the priests of the predator.
However, unlike the priests of the predator who used nourishment for self-strengthening, the Abyss mimicked what they consumed.
They absorbed knowledge and imitated habits.
This was why Aslan had been surprised upon seeing the tyrant.
Because the method employed by the tyrant was akin to that of the Abyss.
Though relieved that the power of the Abyss wasn’t used until the final moment, one couldn’t say there was no influence.
Now having felled such a tyrant, Aslan could more accurately discern the familiar customs of the Abyss.
Aslan learned combat techniques from Budonggong.
From Budonggong, who protected the world from the Abyss, isolated it, and fought against it.
Aslan observed the Abyss directly throughout the year, learning how people fought against it and how to fell it.
Aslan lived with Lewena.
With her, who was both a high priestess of the Abyss and a priestess of the Dark Ram.
Understanding the shadow-like nature of the Abyss well, Aslan learned how Lewena fought and commanded them, mastering ways to defeat them.
Thus, as the Abyss surged forward, Aslan gripped the sword.
The rushing monsters of the Abyss, made of black liquid, embodied malice.
Ereta moved forward alongside Aslan, and Aslan glanced at Ereta.
Ereta wore a seemingly stern expression.
As if determined not to let Aslan fight alone.
It was something Aslan understood without words.
Hence, Aslan didn’t bother asking why.
Instead, he simply smiled faintly and said,
“Want to help?”
Ereta’s eyes widened before she grinned.
“Yeah.”
And the conversation ended there. The monsters had finally reached them.
Aslan and Ereta faced the monsters rushing toward them.
The first monster leapt forward, coiling its legs before accelerating. Ereta met it head-on, wielding an axe.
Kwa-dak!
An axe thrust like a spear. The heavy metal crushed the monster’s knee, causing it to stumble and fall.
Ereta then mercilessly stomped on the fallen monster’s head.
Kwa-jik!
The crumbling head of the monster. Behind it, another leaped forward, and Ereta dragged her bloodied leg back.
She twisted her waist, pivoted her body, raised her arm.
And delivered a downward strike.
The axe blade pierced through the monster’s black liquid flesh, and as the blade embedded itself, flames engulfed the monster, freezing it in place. Ereta swung the monster off the axe.
Naturally, the monster flew away, colliding with others.
A situation where one would normally stop or get injured. But the monsters of the Abyss easily merged upon collision.
The liquids mixed, growing larger. The rapidly expanding monster roared as Ereta hurled her axe.
Using her entire body’s momentum, she threw it with both hands. The spinning axe embedded itself perfectly in the creature’s maw.
Kwa-jik, Hwar-rur-reok!
Ereta immediately moved. Drawing a handaxe and mace from her waist, she charged at the monster.
Instinctively, the Abyss monster swung its forelimb. Ereta countered by swinging her handaxe at the limb.
Chhe-yeok!
The black liquid shattered and scattered. Through the flying liquid, the metal pierced.
When the mace struck where the ribs should be, a sound like striking liquid echoed.
This time, the liquid monster couldn’t shrug it off. It tilted, naturally so, because the mace carried fire.
As the staggering monster thought, under the control of emptiness and chaos, to lull and then pierce,
It was already too late.
Ssu-geol!
For Aslan was already there.
The slash of purity. A white blade cleanly severed the tentacle, and Aslan immediately swept the blade horizontally.
Jjuek! A sound akin to slicing through a wall as the head was severed. The monster collapsed.
The Abyss moved without any expected rigidity.
Tu-tu-tu-tu!
Flying needles of poison. Aslan intercepted the oncoming death shaped like spikes.
Using the purity that Aslan had previously thrust, held close like a shield, the Abyss’ poisonous needles struck the white blade and splintered outward.
“Asreta!”
“Ye.”
No detailed orders were necessary. Ereta was also a veteran. While blocking, Ereta picked up her dropped handaxe and swung it.
Kwa-ji-ji-jik!
An attack timed perfectly as Ereta and Aslan exchanged positions.
The monster’s head split, burned, and fell while Aslan and Ereta stood back-to-back.
Chhe-yeok!
Ereta’s kick against the hardened Abyss served as the signal, and the surrounding monsters moved in unison.
The charging monsters and Aslan, Ereta resisting them.
As Aslan swung the purity while standing back-to-back with Ereta, Ereta swung her axe to protect Aslan.
To those watching from above, this scene was very nostalgic.
The master of combat, Aslan.
That familiar fighting style.
Though it felt slightly different, the foundation remained the same.
It was just like the Aslan they remembered.
Therefore, Angie, Tiamat, and Lumel watched in confusion.
Because this sight shouldn’t have been possible.
Aslan was already dead, and the dead do not return.
Yet, right before their eyes, this impossible scene unfolded.
Thus, they gazed at it with expressions of confusion.
Only Richard and Phey moved.
Whether this was the real Aslan or a trick of an evil deity was unknown.
Nevertheless.
Neither Phey nor Richard cared.
For Richard, who had vowed not to lose but saw his determination crumble, and Phey, who had lost what mattered most, the authenticity didn’t matter.
Phey disappeared into the fray, and Richard leaped down from the city wall.
Upon landing, Richard immediately began running.
He ran toward Aslan.
As vitality returned to his once lifeless eyes, Richard clenched his fists.
Though it was instinctive, Richard was certain.
That this was the real Aslan.
While the fundamentals of the fighting style hadn’t changed, there were subtle differences.
Richard accepted these as natural changes indicative of the genuine article, differing from the old methods that maximized returns at great risk and instead prioritized self-preservation.
In his certainty, Richard swung his fist at the monster blocking his path.
“Get out of the way!”
U-jik!
The swung fist broke the neck of the charging monster. The bent neck snapped off.
Another monster lunged from behind.
“Hyeup!”
Richard evaded by rolling his foot and leaping upward with a shout.
Amidst flying gravel and dust, their gazes met.
Chhe-yeok!
Richard spun mid-air and delivered a sharp roundhouse kick.
Accurately severing the monster’s neck.
The unique slippery sensation of the oozing liquid followed, like kicking something filled with water, as the monster’s head flew off.
Glancing at the fallen head, Richard rolled upon landing.
Aslan was now within reach.
The elf girl, who had only shown unsettling appearances until now, clung to Aslan.
First clinging to Aslan and acting childishly.
Rubbing cheeks, sniffing, and almost licking lips—the elf girl.
Even as Richard approached, the elf girl soon descended from Aslan, smiling brightly before disappearing again.
Though their exchange was unclear, the impending outcome was evident.
Monster heads were exploding or being sliced across the battlefield.
Richard crushed the monsters blocking him.
Swinging, pounding.
Kicking, breaking.
Finally, as severed heads rolled across the battlefield, scattering black liquid.
Richard reached Aslan.
Aslan, in the middle of cutting down a monster, spotted Richard and ran toward him, and Richard did the same.
As they crossed paths, Richard smashed a monster emerging behind Aslan with his fist, and Aslan cleaved another appearing beside Richard with purity.
The falling black liquid. Aslan and Richard stood side-by-side, guarding each other’s blind spots.
Their touching shoulders. The warmth spreading through them. Richard chuckled wryly as he thought.
How had Aslan returned?
Why was he here now?
Was this truly the real Aslan?
But he didn’t voice these questions.
What he wanted to say wasn’t necessarily what he needed to say.
There was something else Richard had to say.
“Good to see you back, Aslan.”
The warm body heat spreading through their touching shoulders, different from the coldness that followed the battle with the tyrant.
Feeling this, Richard spoke.
“Though it may be presumptuous, might I ask for another chance to protect you this time?”
Richard didn’t think Aslan’s death was due to his fault or mistake.
Even though the process leading to that death was Aslan’s will.
He blamed himself and the rest of the party for failing to intervene and merely watching.
Thus, the heir of the duke family with low self-esteem requested to protect Aslan.
“Fortunately, that was exactly what I was about to ask.”
Luckily, it was also Aslan’s wish.
Richard smiled at Aslan’s response.
“That’s good.”
“Ah, am I being left out of this conversation?”
The master of martial arts, gripping his fists, joined them with a huff. Ereta.
Thus, the three took their positions.
They prepared themselves and faced the incoming horde.
From wolf-like creatures to bear-like ones, half-breeds, and even those mimicking Geladridion’s monsters.
Various monsters surged forward, yet none could harm them.
For they were comrades who enhanced each other when together.
