The monsters began to retreat. Whether it was the will of the Abyss or an ethnic instinct that the Abyss had yet to suppress, there was no way to tell.
However, the result was clear. The screams that had erupted across the battlefield ceased, and various monsters fled, leaving trails of black liquid in their wake.
Squeezing his body into the dark sea at the last moment, he hurriedly pressed on.
“We won!”
“Tend to the wounded! Healing school mages, gather and treat the critically injured first!”
“Don’t waste arrows! Cease firing!”
The imperial army, witnessing this scene, began to secure the battlefield.
They stopped the archers from shooting, blew the horns to prevent excited soldiers from chasing the monsters, and used magic to heal the severely wounded while sending the cavalry back inside the fortress walls.
Aslan watched all this, sighed deeply, and turned his eyes toward the system window hovering in the corner of his vision.
[Ongoing Main Quest]
[Defeat the High Priest Void and the Chaos Deity]
Looking at the quest list where the exclamation mark had disappeared after confirmation.
It was certainly clear that the entity whose neck he had severed was supposed to be defeated.
But this wasn’t strange. Given the nature of the Abyss, it was only natural.
Aslan sighed again, recalling how Lewena had appeared in his dreams not long ago.
He remembered her trying to warn him while competing with Ereta over Qi.
Indeed, something was happening within the Abyss.
At the edge of his gaze, he saw the Abyss.
The black sea. A vast ocean dyed black, stretching to the horizon.
An entrance to the Abyss, and the Abyss itself — the black lake.
This was a phenomenon that should have existed at Liam Fortress under the command of Budonggong.
It had been so in the game and during the 12 years Aslan had experienced; it had never changed.
Yet now, it was here, in the empire’s front sea.
The land that had once been the Pervere Kingdom, sunk by the Veil of Mercy, lay submerged in death.
Clearly, something was happening concerning the Abyss.
Before Aslan could dwell on it, he turned his head at the sound of approaching footsteps.
“Aslan.”
The softly spoken name. Turning his head to the gentle voice of Ereta, he saw a variety of people.
Aslan’s traveling party, most of whom were veterans.
In gaming terms, they could be called a “party.”
Each of them reacted differently.
Phey, who ran up like flying and embraced him, showering affection.
And Richard, who came to help without hesitation.
These two approached closely, wearing bright expressions, but the others kept their distance, hesitating.
Lumel, Angie, and Tiamat.
Aslan looked at them and guessed, then realized.
Just as demonic gods disguised as Lewena had appeared in his dreams while he was alive, it was possible that to these individuals, someone pretending to be Aslan had appeared in their dreams or reality.
Their hesitation undoubtedly stemmed from that.
Of course, it wasn’t just that.
Aslan thought that when Richard and Phey recognized him, luck played a significant role.
Luck is an ability score that affects one’s senses.
So he speculated that only Richard, who was nearly superhuman, and Phey, who was originally at a superhuman level, could notice.
The rest either couldn’t due to lacking such insight or refrained out of caution.
Aslan sincerely believed that and partly considered it true.
Richard and Phey indeed noticed because of their luck, but the others had also realized long ago that this was the real Aslan.
Each harbored different emotions, which weighed heavily on their hearts, preventing them from speaking.
Thus, the first to speak would be the one filled with a sense of deprivation.
Perhaps the warrior who hoped, alongside his sibling, that Aslan might have returned.
The warrior who, upon nurturing that futile hope, quickly realized its impossibility and fell into despair, closing his mouth.
Tiamat. He reacted first. Opening his mouth and closing it again, he revealed fluctuating emotions through his covered eyes.
Soon, he let out a self-mocking laugh, shaking his head in self-deprecation.
“Tiamat.”
Even though Aslan spoke to him, Tiamat didn’t respond, turning his body away.
The retreating figure of the dragon seemed unusually small.
Watching Tiamat walk back toward the fortress walls, Aslan was greeted by another companion’s question, prompted by his departure.
“Is it really… Aslan?”
Lumel, with an unusually deadpan expression, asked.
Her heavy breathing clearly wasn’t due to excitement.
She resembled someone about to suffer from hyperventilation, her pupils darting around.
For a moment, Aslan hesitated.
After all, it made sense.
Aslan had lost many precious people, from when he was Lee Hyun-woo to after becoming Aslan.
But he had never regained anyone he had lost.
Therefore, Aslan couldn’t fully understand the emotions Lumel and the others were feeling.
He couldn’t even begin to guess.
That was the correct expression.
So, Aslan approached carefully.
Facing Lumel’s trembling gaze, he approached cautiously.
Then he extended his hand.
Seeing the outstretched hand, Lumel closed her mouth and slowly lifted her head to meet Aslan’s eyes.
Lowering her head again was swift.
Like a broken doll, her head dropped, and her gaze landed on Aslan’s hand.
Lumel stared at the hand for a while, then slowly extended hers to grasp it.
Groping carefully, like a blind person feeling their way.
On the other hand, like an animal cautiously nibbling unfamiliar food, she touched it gently.
There was warmth in that hand.
Unlike the dying Aslan, who was turning into white steel, this hand radiated heat.
Lumel shivered slightly as she touched the warm hand.
Her eyes watered, and her trembling fingers became delicate.
Aslan watched Lumel, and Lumel, sensing his gaze, eventually raised her head.
Crouching and crying, Aslan pulled her into an embrace, and Lumel cried into his arms.
Aslan patted her back while thinking.
Thankfully, because she crouched, her chest didn’t press against him.
Given his heightened sensitivity now, Lumel’s bosom could easily disrupt his rationality.
Thus, Aslan consoled her while maintaining necessary boundaries.
Since Tiyamal was physically distant and unable to speak immediately, moving on, what remained was…
“Angie.”
A composed woman stood there.
Under Aslan’s gaze, she forced a smile unnecessarily.
“Welcome back.”
Hiding her golden irises behind a forced smile, she said those words.
It was a familiar smile to Aslan.
Of course, it was the same smile he himself often wore when forcing a grin.
Upon seeing that smile, Aslan immediately released his arm that had been wrapped around Lumel’s shoulder.
Patting her shoulder lightly, Aslan approached Angie.
Angie, still feigning composure, placed her hands on her hips and spoke.
“Well, I always knew you wouldn’t die. You weren’t the type to die like that, right? I believed you had a plan and would definitely return.”
It was a lie. Her tone faltered.
Her subsequent words were almost incoherent.
“Everyone was worried, but I believed…”
Thus, when Aslan hugged her, Angie fell silent.
Dropping the hands that had been resting on her hips, Angie weakly curled her shoulders under Aslan’s patting.
The woman struggled to swallow, controlling her increasingly rough breathing. Aslan whispered to her.
“You must’ve gone through a lot.”
It was obvious. Just looking at the state of the group told him everything.
“Thank you.”
During Aslan’s absence, Angie had done everything possible by keeping the group together.
“It’s my fault. I’m sorry.”
Therefore, Aslan apologized.
Fortunately, Angie didn’t continue lying. She moved her lips, took deep breaths, bit her lip tightly, and struggled to swallow before finally muttering,
“Shit…”
Dropping her head, she buried her face in Aslan’s shoulder.
Wrapping her arms around Aslan’s waist was an added gesture.
“If you die again, I swear, I’ll kill you…”
Her choked voice. Aslan patted her back and replied.
“Yeah, I won’t die.”
Originally, he might have vowed not to make promises, but now he couldn’t.
Because he truly intended not to die.
While consoling his companions, the imperial army approached.
Probably for post-battle cleanup. Seeing the atmosphere winding down, Aslan glanced at Green, who was approaching.
Taking it as permission, Green smiled and spoke.
“It is an honor to meet the renowned successor of the Immovable Master. Would it be possible for you to assist us? With cleaning up the battlefield…”
To which Aslan, still holding Angie, shook his head.
Confusion spread across Green’s green face. Aslan clarified further.
“Unfortunately, there isn’t time for that. The battle isn’t over yet.”
When confusion turned into bewilderment, Aslan forced a smile.
The greatest characteristic of the Abyss is regeneration.
If something akin to a mother giving birth or a spider spinning fire can demonstrate a regenerative power that transcends death, then death doesn’t exist for the Abyss.
The Abyss itself is a world, endlessly expanding, regenerating, and growing.
Simply put,
“The deity of Void and Chaos is still alive.”
*
“Still… alive?”
The one voicing the startled question was the general.
A high-ranking individual within the imperial army, quick to calculate from the top down.
He openly displayed his confusion upon seeing Aslan’s silence.
And this bewilderment wasn’t his alone.
In what appeared to be a conference room deep within the fortress, everyone present shared in this confusion.
The general, glancing around at the similar expressions on everyone’s faces, spoke.
“We clearly saw the head cut off… and yet you say it’s still alive?”
Aslan nodded. The general wiped his face and sighed.
Given the size of the tyrant dragon and the impact of the star-cutting, he had directly witnessed the decapitation and thus found it hard to believe.
But it was inevitable.
That was a feature of the Abyss.
While the physical durability significantly decreases, in the field of regeneration, it surpasses even the spider that spins fire or the mother that gives birth to herself.
Even wounds that should have been fatal could regenerate within the Abyss.
Since Aslan had returned to the Abyss the moment his head was cut off, the possibility of death was nil.
Even if they don’t emerge during the time they’re gathering strength or preparing to capture the fortress,
Aslan gazed at the general, who wore a disheartened expression beyond contemplation.
Around him, magicians, alchemists, high-ranking officials of the imperial army, administrators, and others murmured among themselves.
The chatter showed no sign of stopping, and thus Aslan was glad he’d sent his companions to rest beforehand.
Judging by Aslan’s expectations, the entire group had fought non-stop for three months.
Though taking a day or two of rest wouldn’t bring drastic changes to their bodies, considering Aslan’s plans, resting now equated to working.
Plans.
Naturally, Aslan recalled his own strategy.
And opened his mouth.
“If you don’t mind, may I have your attention?”
At his words, everyone turned to look at Aslan.
Despite the intense gazes, Aslan remained undaunted and confidently spoke.
“This is an evident abnormal phenomenon. The Abyss cannot expand or move. That’s why we’ve been able to contain it in Liam all this time.”
A story everyone should know. Yet the audience remained unresponsive.
They merely looked at him as if wondering what he was suddenly talking about.
The Abyss was originally incapable of expansion. This was something Aslan had learned through experience, both in the game and in reality.
But what about now?
The Abyss had taken over the sea and was flourishing in the space ravaged by the death curse.
Thinking chronologically, it started from the moment Aslan was killed and nearly devoured by the Dark Ram but was saved by the formless Possessors.
Considering that the Dark Ram was using Lewena as a priest, Aslan suspected the Dark Ram was involved in the expansion of the Abyss.
If left unresolved, it could lead to even greater repercussions.
It needed to be addressed actively now.
“With the situation having changed, a different approach is necessary. Fortunately, I have a plan.”
Fortunately, Aslan possessed knowledge and allies.
Thus, little else was required.
“We need an expert on the Abyss. Summon Master Budonggong. Gather all available watchers and guardians, and mobilize every legion currently deployable.”
Massive scale support.
And,
“In the meantime, I and my companions—veterans centered around the ancient deity’s horsemen—will enter the Abyss to eliminate and purge the cause.”
Bold action to translate thoughts into deeds.
“Help us close the Abyss.”
Aslan firmly resolved not to be swayed by the Dark Ram anymore.
He pledged to survive the evil deity and save Geladridion.
And made that vow.
