Aslan and Budonggong sprinted toward the front of the fortress.
Though his one-legged state was a hindrance, Budonggong managed to keep up with Aslan better than expected.
Of course, the fact that neither had used acceleration played a part, but that wasn’t the important thing.
Aslan led the way, running while tuning his ears to the noises ahead.
The sounds were varied, but not so complex or chaotic that they couldn’t be distinguished.
So it didn’t take long for Aslan and Budonggong to realize that what was happening was an Abyss assault.
Especially Aslan, who discerned that this was some kind of wave attack.
Causing chaos through a surprise strike the previous day via Rebecca Clark, then relentlessly hammering them the next without pause.
It was an offensive that would be hard to withstand under normal circumstances.
That’s why Aslan frowned.
Because he couldn’t tell whether this current wave attack was due to the influence of the formless entity absorbed by the Abyss.
Though he had spent a year living beside the Abyss while learning techniques from Budonggong, he had never seen the Abyss employ such tactics.
And there was no time to ask Budonggong about it now.
Clarifying the situation could wait until after urgent matters were dealt with.
Swallowing his questions, Aslan crossed the fortress alongside Astak.
“Hold your ground! Maintain formation!”
“We’re running out of arrows!”
“Switch to spears! Keep the formation intact!”
During the process of crossing the fortress, Aslan was able to see the battlefield situation.
Based on what he saw, the fortress wasn’t being pushed back much.
The reason for this was clear.
Twang, twung!
The sound of bows echoed. It came from the toppled bell tower above.
Whoever was firing was unmistakable.
If a bow made such loud sounds, it could only be Tiamat’s.
Tiamat was perched atop the collapsed bell tower, raining sniper support across the entire fortress.
It wasn’t just that.
In other defensive lines, likely scattered throughout the fortress, unique sounds arose.
The crackle of lightning, booms, swift flying sounds accompanied by impact noises.
Listening closely, faint sounds could be heard—they were the struggles of Aslan’s party.
This fortress was being held off lightly thanks to the efforts of Aslan’s group.
Though mentally unstable, their skills were undeniable.
They were far from being easy opponents that could simply be overwhelmed.
Even if the enemy was a Possessor.
Realizing this, Aslan relaxed his expression with a sense of relief and pride.
His steps felt lighter too. The path forward was strewn with countless debris.
Rolling bells and charred stones littered the road.
At the end of this path lay the fortress’s frontal edge and entrance.
The massive gate had collapsed inward but was still functioning as a defensive line with heaps of debris piled in front.
There, Aslan found Ereta.
Ereta was fighting alongside soldiers.
After swinging her double-axe to pin and slash a rushing monster into the ground, she noticed Aslan approaching.
“Aslan!”
Ereta ran and embraced him. Caught off guard, Aslan felt her soft skin and flinched.
Before Aslan could react, Ereta pulled away, realizing her mistake and shouted.
“That’s right, this isn’t the time. We need to help Angie now!”
Help Angie?
Confused, Aslan listened as Ereta explained the situation moments earlier.
Angie had leapt outside the walls and was handling most of the monsters alone.
Only then did Aslan understand the final piece of the puzzle.
The reason why they could hold off the attacks at various points in the fortress with only a few troops was because of this.
Angie had been taking care of all the enemies the fortress would otherwise have had to deal with outside.
And just as Aslan realized this, a sound came from outside.
Kuuuung!
A thunderous noise. A clear sound of destruction—a sign that Angie was still holding out against the monsters.
It was a sound that immediately filled Aslan with immense unease.
Without the framework of the main quest, Aslan had no way to counter all these trials.
Thus, losing Angie, who was essentially the core of the main quest, would be catastrophic.
Naturally, Aslan felt anxious and turned to rush outside.
But the one who stopped him as he tried to leap over the debris was Budonggong.
The middle-aged man placed a hand on Aslan’s shoulder and gently pressed.
Turning instinctively at the touch, Aslan met Astak’s steady gaze as he spoke.
“Calm down.”
Before any reaction or rebuttal could come.
“Stay composed.”
Budonggong turned Aslan around to face him directly.
“You are a warrior. Your sword is wielded by reason, not emotion.”
The quiet voice brought Aslan a sense of stability, and his distorted face gradually relaxed.
“To protect, you must suppress your emotions.”
The evident turmoil and anxiety became more pronounced. Clenching his teeth, Aslan exhaled deeply.
“I’m sorry.”
It was an unfamiliar feeling. Before his death, Aslan had been someone far removed from emotional descriptions.
Since regaining his senses, Aslan found it increasingly difficult to suppress his emotions.
Resisting temptation was tough, and even trivial matters easily stimulated him.
Since equanimity was considered a virtue for warriors, Aslan did not view it positively.
What disgraceful behavior. Taking a deep breath, Aslan reflected on his own folly and soon calmed down, looking outward.
The sounds from outside continued. They were undoubtedly Angie’s battle cries.
Even though calm, Aslan couldn’t shake the thought of rushing to help Angie.
“Ereta, maintain the frontline. Master, please come with me.”
Thus, after calmly considering, Aslan made the most rational decision.
When Budonggong nodded, Aslan jumped over the debris with him and crossed the main gate.
Ereta watched their departure with a look that wasn’t disapproving.
Although Aslan might have thought it was disgraceful, Ereta liked this human side of Aslan.
She picked up her axe again, and the soldiers stood with her, defending the debris pile. Beyond the advancing monsters, Aslan and Budonggong moved forward.
Beyond the main gate, the path Aslan and Budonggong approached was filthy.
The scene before them was utterly devastated.
The broken earth was scattered with fractured rocks and mud.
Monsters lay in pieces, unable to regenerate, scattered everywhere.
Black liquid trails, remnants of the monsters, covered the ground in abundance.
There were easily hundreds of them. Since the initial clash hadn’t lasted long, this proved that countless monsters had surged here in that short period.
All the marks bore similar signs.
Signs of being crushed, split, and shattered by overwhelming force.
“It almost seems like the Supreme Divinity’s Sword has arrived.”
Budonggong commented upon seeing those marks, and Aslan did not refute the assessment.
In terms of sheer power, Angie at this moment could rival the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
When they finally reached the front, the sight matched Aslan’s expectations closely.
Twang!
A sound like a bowstring snapping. It was the sound produced by the knight accelerating, standing over two meters tall.
At the center of that sound was a knight enveloped in a coat of black liquid, resembling sturdy armor.
The knight’s armor was solid.
Not quite as absurdly durable as the Dragon King’s, but comparable to the white steel scales worn by tyrants.
An impregnable fortress that no ordinary human could penetrate, no matter what they tried.
Worthy of the title “Immortal Knight.”
Angie cleaved through it with a single stroke.
Kuuuuung, Kwa-jik!
Two consecutive sounds of rupture followed. The sound of a swing and the clang of metal.
The clang didn’t last long before splitting, and at its end lay a split cuirass and body.
The Immortal Knight, falsely claiming immortality, shattered and dispersed.
Following that was magic.
A dazzling spear resembling a chain of black lightning, made of non-existent matter, flew through the air.
Angie extended her arm toward it.
Urrrddddd!
A chilling sound accompanied by a tearing arm. A face contorted in pain and an arm stained with blood indicated significant injury despite regeneration. The wrist bone was visibly torn apart.
Yet Angie did not stop. She smiled.
Her smile was excessively cheerful and eerie, but Angie laughed as if it lessened her pain, and she charged forward.
With a powerful push, her foot scattered dirt as she accelerated.
Her lowered figure seemed to vanish amidst a red haze, and the young robe-clad mage who cast the spell was pierced.
Puhk!
What pierced was Angie’s shattered arm.
Her arm accurately pierced where the heart should be. With her signature tenacity, Angie hurled the mage preparing another spell.
Kwaaaaaang!
The ground sank as dirt and dust rose, creating a crater-like display of force. Angie repeatedly stomped on the possessed individual whose head was already crushed.
Kang, Kang, Kwaaaang, Kwaaaaaaang!
The strength increased with each stomp, and the dark flesh of the young mage crumbled beyond recognition.
Finally, Angie kicked the remains reduced to barely a handful.
Chheek! The flying corpse left no trace of humanity.
Excessive damage even for a being destined to resurrect.
The youth thrown aside began to regenerate near the knight’s body, which was also restoring its armor.
Only then did Aslan realize.
Though stray arrows or Phey’s precise slashes marked the ground, fundamentally, most of the scars on this land were carved by Angie.
The failure of the fortress’s overwhelming assault to achieve its purpose was entirely due to Angie’s efforts.
Angie alone performed the work of several hundred soldiers.
At the cost of becoming tattered.
“Huhk, huhk, hhh, hhh…”
A tired, injured, and painful face.
The woman slowly turned her head upon sensing nearby movement.
“…What? You’re just standing there?”
Smiling casually, Angie made Aslan grimace.
‘Ah, this is how it feels.’
Finally, Aslan understood how his companions felt about his own arrogance.
Regret was evident on his face as he approached Angie.
The intention was obvious. Angie naturally stiffened and quickly put on a show of bravado.
“Don’t you see? I’ve got everything under control. There’s no need for you to—”
The bravado faded the moment Aslan embraced Angie.
The trembling woman. Despite the sticky sensation from the blood-soaked body, Aslan stroked her back without hesitation.
The feel of the armor under his hand. The sticky touch, possibly seeping from within.
A sight that made one imagine how many spells she endured.
Holding onto such an Angie, Aslan hesitated to speak.
He didn’t know what words were necessary.
What needed to be said.
What he wanted to say.
What he desired as a result.
All were different, so Aslan merely hugged Angie, who briefly returned the embrace.
“Warmth feels good…”
Few words were exchanged, but Budonggong understood much upon seeing the scene.
“Aslan.”
When Aslan turned at the sound of his name, Budonggong softly spoke.
“Do you understand what I want to say?”
Glancing at the possessed beings regenerating, Budonggong gripped the axe he had drawn and took a stance.
Standing tall, ready to face the enemy.
The same stance Aslan, Lumel, and Phey used.
In that posture, he spoke. Confident yet gently advising his son.
“The way that child fights, the way your comrades worry about losing you, proves that you’ve been fighting the wrong way.”
The unspoken words were clear, but Aslan didn’t interrupt. He quietly closed his mouth and listened.
“You are not a deity. You are a warrior. Warriors do not fight alone.”
Upon hearing this, Aslan released Angie from his embrace.
The staggering woman. Despite her bewildered expression, Aslan did not hesitate.
“If you don’t want to lose, teach those who hold the sword how to fight. And fight together. Like I taught you, like I taught Freida, like Liam taught his comrades.”
The second axe. Budonggong gripped it in his left hand and glared at the possessed beings.
Already nearing completion, they slowly stood up.
Seeing this, Angie too, despite her exhausted body, firmly grasped her greatsword.
The sword dragging on the ground was crimson. Stained with Angie’s blood and the Abyss’s blood.
Angie’s regeneration isn’t like Ereta’s, surpassing even death.
No matter how strong and regenerative Angie might be, if her vital points are pierced, she dies.
The woman continuing the fight in her ragged state couldn’t possibly be unaware of this.
Angie’s current appearance wasn’t one of fearlessness or courage but rather resembled someone moving forward out of fear of greater loss.
Much like Aslan himself.
It was here that Aslan realized his mistake.
Knowing his own fault, Aslan didn’t reprimand Angie’s futile struggle.
Instead, watching her rise, Aslan silently took her victory away.
Actually, calling it ‘taking away’ was ambiguous. When Aslan snatched the hilt from Angie’s grasp, her grip was so weak that she let go instantly.
A questioning gaze followed Aslan. Curiosity in her eyes.
Meeting that gaze, Aslan planted the greatsword into the ground.
Kung!
Then he reached out and tapped Angie’s shoulder.
What was needed now wasn’t scolding or persuasion.
It was calm acknowledgment.
“You fought well.”
Still puzzled eyes. Watching them, Aslan stepped forward.
Ah, Angie’s voice trailed off as Aslan added,
“It’s okay to rest a bit. We can handle the rest together.”
Together.
As Angie paused, surprised by the unfamiliar word, Aslan moved his hand to his waist.
There rested a peculiar sword resembling a leaf.
A sword dyed white, made of white steel.
The favored weapon of the Warrior God, a symbol akin to his emblem.
Seobsaeng.
Gripping it in his left hand, Aslan reached behind his back with his right.
Grrrrl…!
A growling sound like a beast emerged as the greatsword was drawn. The serrated blade turning a deep blue was Tiyalmisof’s beast.
Holding both weapons in his hands, Aslan muttered softly.
“Purity.”
A blaze of pure white fire ignited, transforming the beast into purity.
Gripping Seobsaeng diagonally in his left hand, he stood side by side with Budonggong in the same stance.
Facing the two possessed beings who had just finished regenerating.
“I’ll take care of the sturdy one. You handle the mage beside him.”
“Understood.”
The soft voices of Budonggong and Aslan. Facing them, the possessed beings took different stances.
The Immortal Knight held a shield and lowered his sword behind it.
The Reincarnation Sage pointed his staff.
The standoff. Just as the thought of a Western movie crossed Aslan’s mind—
Twung!
The Immortal Knight propelled himself forward.
Approaching Aslan and Budonggong.
The mage prepared a spell, sparks of fire shooting from the pointed staff.
The crackling flames and the charging bulk.
At that exact moment, Aslan swung the Seobsaeng in his left hand.
Rather, he threw it.
Instantly transformed into a throwing axe, Seobsaeng drew a circle in the air and—
Kwa-jik!
Accurately embedded itself in the mage’s forehead.
The flame that was rising simultaneously dimmed. The body swayed.
A duration unlikely to last more than two seconds. But that was enough.
Lowering his stance, Aslan murmured.
“Acceleration.”
‘Thunder Calling.’
Two voices flowing simultaneously from his mind and lips. Thunder settled in his legs, wind in his body.
The mana coursing through his whole being made him lighter and faster.
In that instant, Aslan became lightning.
Kwarrrrrrrrrr!
Thunder struck.
Aslan accelerated toward the mage.
The Immortal Knight tracked him with his eyes and twisted his body, trying to block Aslan and buy time for the mage to cast a spell.
However, just as he attempted to alter his trajectory, Budonggong had already reached the knight.
Pressing his white steel leg into the ground, he swung his axe.
The arm wielding the axe bore a tattoo.
Ordinarily, such an attack wouldn’t break the Immortal Knight.
Even if Budonggong’s strength reached level 3, equivalent to a heroic standard for humans, it wouldn’t be enough to pierce the high-ranking priest and possessed being known for formidable defense.
However.
The moment the tattoos engraved on Budonggong’s body glowed, the outcome changed.
Destroyer, Proof of the Rock Mountain, Pilot of the Twilight Sea, Conqueror of Bijou.
Every magical tattoo etched across his entire body amplified his strength.
Coupled with his refined blunt technique honed to perfection, the story changes.
For a brief moment, his strength reached the superhuman level of 10.
Kwa-jik! Following the knight’s twist, the faceguard shattered as the axe plunged in.
Purssek! The head split, scattering black liquid backward. Naturally, the body swayed.
Unable to block, Aslan reached the young mage with acceleration.
The possessed being who had once insisted Aslan read light novels for his share.
Humanity hesitated due to memory, but the blade did not.
Purity swung.
Dda-a-a-ak!
A crescent moon of whiteness carved through as the boy’s head was severed, falling to the ground.
The rolling head disappeared as if boiling away.
With both possessed beings fallen to the ground, father and son stared down at them.
They looked at the black figures bubbling and regenerating.
Adjusting their postures and tightening their grips on their weapons.
The Abyss surged toward them.
Yet they maintained perfect composure without a trace of tension.
Veterans of battle.
They were embodiments of victory and truly the finest warriors.
In an instant, they confronted the surging world.
