Veteran.
A Veteran was originally someone chosen by the Supreme Divinity as a possessor of desired skills.
Thus, no matter how exalted their name might be, in the eyes of the Supreme Divinity, they were merely humans to consume.
But the Veterans of battle were different.
The Veterans of battle could be said to be the embodiment of victory that the Supreme Divinity envisioned.
A true master of combat who could secure victory in any situation.
Not just wielders of a few weapons, but those who could truly observe and control the battlefield as their own.
Those who had once ascended to this position and those who still held it stood apart like two points drawing a long line across the battlefield.
And toward them, the abyssal claws reached out.
GEEEEH!
The sound of roaring filled the air. Slowly turning their heads revealed countless monsters approaching.
From the left, right, rear, and front—an all-encompassing assault from various directions brought the monsters together.
The Abyss, altering its priorities, had gathered all its appendages aimed at the fortress and redirected them towards Aslan and Budonggong.
The Abyss thought,
“Rather than attacking this fortress now, it would be better to kill these two.”
A selfless entity borrowing the decaying brain of some ancient deity made this decision.
Equipped with an unknown divine power, a monster that had severed countless limbs of evil deities.
And a warrior who had obstructed its expansion for decades.
Dealing with these two was more important than capturing the fortress.
So the Abyss sent the monsters—mere fingertips or fingernails in its vastness.
As they advanced, scratching the ground sharply, the world seemed to darken.
Facing this onslaught, Aslan and Budonggong observed them with deep, hollow eyes.
The monsters were coming. The Possessors were regenerating. Thus, the monsters’ charge was both to buy time for regeneration and to wear down their stamina.
Calculations aligned, and Aslan and Budonggong, as if exchanging signals, lowered their weapons.
Aslan held the recently drawn Sephyng in his left hand, its unique curved sword shape hanging low, while tilting the Pure Blade slightly in his right.
Budonggong, wielding two axes, glanced once at the approaching monsters with hollow eyes before closing and reopening them.
The monsters drew closer, surging like a black tide.
Against them, the two battle veterans prepared to meet with their specialties.
Defense against overwhelming odds, chaotic battles.
As the two veterans took similar stances, Budonggong swung his axe, and Aslan swung the Pure Blade.
KWAANG!
A tremendous sound spread.
It was the sound of the incoming horde colliding with the two battle veterans.
More precisely, it was the sound created by a single action within that clash.
Almost simultaneously, two severed heads soared upward—the heads of the blackened monsters.
Below the soaring heads, the two warriors faced their enemies in different ways but with similar postures.
The movement of charging monsters was read visually, and then their white steel legs lightly caught the ground behind them.
A movement smaller than a half-step, yet the monster lunged into empty space as if hypnotized.
A clear opening. Budonggong’s axe struck with a metallic clang.
BOOM, CRACK!
A monster’s head split open and collapsed.
Tattoos emitted a faint bluish light, and Budonggong rhythmically swung his weapon toward the advancing monsters.
Next came a shadowy creature resembling neither a bear nor a wolf, its mouth wide open as it charged. Budonggong pushed it back with the head of one axe and cut its neck with the other.
Beside him, Aslan handled the situation similarly.
SHRECK, KAGAGAK, ZUCK!
However, the sounds were different.
Aslan’s movements carried rotation.
Observing quickly with his eyes the heavy motion of the charging monster’s arm, Aslan twisted his body.
The movement started from his waist and stopped at his toes, positioning his blade tip against the attack.
An unconventional defense. A deflecting motion.
Ordinarily, this would have disrupted his stance, but Aslan anticipated and reacted, transforming the deflecting force into his own.
Thus, he rotated.
Instead of resisting the deflecting force, he lightly spun and swung.
A strike almost devoid of his own strength, only minutely adjusting direction.
It returned directly to the attacker, cleanly severing their neck.
For the subsequent attackers, it was much the same.
PUH!
Unavoidable movements were preemptively struck to induce rigidity.
KAGK, ZZEONG!
Deflectable movements were blocked and transformed into his own power.
SHRECK!
Loose attacks were evaded while simultaneously countering.
One strike per enemy. In the sea of darkness, the two warriors held their ground.
They resembled breakwaters against the ocean, yet neither tired nor diminished.
Their secret lay in fundamentals.
The skillful transition from defense to offense.
The precision, power, and technique to kill with a single counterattack ensured their mastery.
It was an art fully achievable at this level of accuracy and refinement.
Such individuals were rare, but here they were.
Thus, the two battle veterans did not resist. They scattered death in every direction aimed at them.
Death arrived unfairly at that spot.
Budonggong received it without moving.
First, he stunned with his axe, finished off the enemy, deflected incoming attacks, and countered.
Aslan, rotating, deflecting, evading, killed.
This was Aslan’s most optimized form of combat.
It was the type of battle Aslan had engaged in most frequently over the past twelve years.
Like when powerful Martial Monks, backed by the Supreme Divinity’s Sword, charged, or when defending Dwarves in the inadequate honor caves.
Aslan was most familiar with chaotic battles against overwhelming odds with no escape route.
Likewise, Budonggong was the same; Aslan’s foundation of combat rested here.
“Acceleration.”
And that wasn’t all.
The glow of mana flowing through Aslan’s body. Magic born from Astrid’s farewell.
At the moment Aslan’s body accelerated, there was no gap between strikes.
Like a swirling wind, he sliced through enemies without substance.
Frenetically cutting, striking, and shattering.
ROAR!
A beast lunging to devour him, its mouth wide open.
Aslan thrust the Dragon King’s arm into the gaping maw.
CRACK! Sparks flew as the mouth shattered, twisting the arm inside to tear it apart.
Following up, he swung the Pure Blade, splitting the beast’s head vertically.
Then he extended his right hand toward a mage who had just finished regenerating.
“Fireball.”
A round, condensed flame immediately formed in his palm.
With the flow of magic left behind by Astrid’s farewell, the fireball shot forth.
KWAAAAAA!
With a soft sound, the landing magic scattered fierce flames around.
The young mage tumbled, screaming as covered in flames.
An unrecognizable scream, far removed from its previous form.
Meanwhile, amidst a similar roar, the Immortal Knight completed its regeneration.
The Immortal Knight immediately charged toward Budonggong upon rising.
Budonggong, amidst a melee with the monsters, noticed the charging knight from the corner of his eye. He grabbed and twisted the neck of a monster he had just pinned and kicked away.
CRUNCH!
The monster dissolved into liquid on the ground. Budonggong twisted his waist while drawing a hidden longsword from his waist.
Holding the hilt diagonally, he twisted his waist and swung.
KZZZIIKK!
A lightning-like slash.
Accurately severing the knight’s waist. The armor was crushed and scattered, and the tattoos on Budonggong’s arm flashed.
Tattoos etched to the limits of human endurance with mana.
Possible due to his high compatibility with mana tattoos, his innate abundance of mana, and years of practice.
Four tattoos engraved: Proof of the Mountain, adding 1 point to strength constantly; Oarsman of the Twilight Sea, adding 2 points temporarily during mana tattoo use; Destroyer, adding 3 points during attacks; and Conqueror of Bijou, copying and stacking the effects of constant-effect tattoos.
10 points of strength cleaved the Immortal Knight in half. Leaving the halved knight behind, Budonggong maintained his sword path and twisted his waist.
“Haa!”
A rarely uttered shout. The monster charging from directly behind had its upper body crushed and scattered.
KAANG!
The sword broke simultaneously. At first glance, it seemed perilous.
But Budonggong didn’t panic. Discarding the broken weapon, he clasped his hands together.
KWAANG!
And slammed it into the monster’s head.
The monster embedded in the ground shattered. Budonggong exhaled forcefully and shouted.
“Weapon!”
The resonant cry.
Angie, thinking briefly if she was being addressed from a short distance, saw the son of Budonggong atop the wall throw a mace from the backpack on his back.
Brought along solely for this purpose, and fittingly, the moment the mace was thrown, it accelerated at an impossible angle toward Budonggong.
Zigzagging through the monsters and repeatedly accelerating until it landed in Budonggong’s hands.
The caught mace. The moment Budonggong swung it, it flew like a meteor and shattered a monster’s head.
A combat style akin to Aslan’s.
It was a combat method established by Budonggong.
A broad range of martial techniques influential even in the founding of Guardians, specialized in chaotic battles.
If not for exceptional outliers like Aslan, Budonggong was undoubtedly a peerless genius destined to become a Veteran of battle, repeatedly smashing monsters with techniques worthy of his name.
Together with the weapons flying toward his hands.
Upon observing all these methods and results, the Abyss changed direction.
It poured its fallen parts toward the Possessors.
KURRRR, as they absorbed, the physical forms of the Possessors adhered and cleaned themselves. The speed was abnormally fast.
Regenerating thus, before Aslan could react, the mage raised his staff.
