Aslan walked as if in a hurry.
The destination was the end of the long corridor.
The asphalt was painted in a monotonous yet efficient white.
Crossing the linoleum-tiled corridor, Aslan signaled to the wizards blocking his way.
“Aslan-sama, ahead is….”
Before they could utter a few words, they stepped aside, overwhelmed by the killing intent and mana radiating from Aslan, allowing him to proceed.
In Aslan’s mind, the words he had heard moments ago resurfaced.
It was the gentle voice of No. 13, laced with concern.
“Tiyalmisof. People, you plan to make them all like No. 13.”
“Many will die.”
And the subsequent explanation in words.
Aslan had heard about No. 13. More specifically, the principle behind her creation.
She was an artificial divinity.
“Tiyalmisof!”
With a single blow, Aslan shattered the iron gate blocking his path using the Dragon King’s arm.
The iron gate, torn apart in one strike, slid across the floor, revealing a massive freight elevator beyond it.
Tiyalmisof’s laboratory, the elevator heading to the peak of the Anurthin Mountains.
There stood Tiyalmisof.
Familiar to Aslan’s eyes was the mechanical body standing on the elevator, gazing at him.
Was it an illusion? For a moment, upon seeing Aslan, Tiyalmisof seemed to stiffen.
That stiffness appeared to Aslan as confusion.
Tiyalmisof froze clearly in confusion before observing Aslan.
A clear attitude and expression.
Steps filled with anger.
The armor draped over his body, a cloak with unknown functions, and a sword.
No companions were visible, but it was intimidating.
“Ah.”
Thus, Tiyalmisof understood the situation.
An explanation, an excuse, or perhaps just an account.
Whichever it was, looking down at Aslan who awaited, Tiyalmisof spoke awkwardly.
“I didn’t think you’d find out this quickly….”
Upon hearing those words, Aslan frowned.
It seemed there was never any intention to hide it from the beginning.
The possibility that No. 13 might speak was likely considered.
As Aslan’s hand moved towards his waist, Tiyalmisof’s mechanical voice rang out.
“Are you not curious?”
Aslan did not respond.
“At least, wouldn’t it be better to hear everything before making a judgment?”
Still, there was no response, but neither did Aslan draw his sword.
Observing this, Tiyalmisof slowly continued speaking.
“Let me ask first. How much do you know?”
A casual question. Aslan responded immediately.
“That when your plan begins, many will die. That you intend to turn all humanity into beings like No. 13.”
And that’s enough.
With a swish, the withdrawing blade caught Tiyalmisof’s attention as he shook his head.
“You’ve missed the most important part. The most crucial one.”
Aslan’s blade halted as Tiyalmisof raised a finger.
“Motivation.”
Approaching the elevator with an expression suggesting Aslan might say something, Tiyalmisof stepped back from the railing and slowly retreated.
And soon, Aslan and Tiyalmisof stood facing each other by the elevator.
“Tiyalmisof-sama!”
“Silence. I am speaking. Step back.”
Pushing away the wizard who had followed to restrain Aslan, Tiyalmisof pressed the central switch.
The elevator began its ascent.
A leisurely rise, isolated together. The support troops had withdrawn.
While Aslan believed he could respond appropriately, he remained vigilant, and Tiyalmisof spoke while facing that vigilance.
“In my view, humans are great. But…”
It was a statement already heard. However, what followed was something new.
“They lack greatness worthy of their greatness.”
And right from the start, it didn’t sit well.
Though Aslan tightened his grip on the hilt, Tiyalmisof’s speech did not cease.
“The world is full of pain. Life too, is brimming with suffering. Ordinary people cannot stand against such pain; they merely fall.”
Aslan’s hand stopped. Even as Aslan hesitated, Tiyalmisof continued steadily, without fluctuation in emotion.
“Not all humans are special like you or me. Aslan, when faced with pain, most simply kneel and die. They never rise again.”
It was a familiar tale.
“To them, there is neither strength nor will to overcome such pain.”
Silent, the anger in Aslan’s gaze subsided.
Looking into those eyes, Tiyalmisof infused his voice with emotion for the first time.
It was affection.
“Isn’t it pitiable?”
At these sincere words, Aslan frowned.
Because he understood.
“You protect the powerless with your sword for such reasons. You fell mighty foes to safeguard the weak. My method differs. I have found a more fundamental solution.”
He recognized Aslan as a kindred spirit.
“All humans will become special.”
Above all, the destination they aimed for was the same, though their methods differed.
“If every human is given the power to control their own destiny, that will suffice.”
Thus, Aslan understood what Tiyalmisof left unsaid.
Emerald eyes widened, and words flowed.
“You…!”
Tiyalmisof seemed to smile faintly at this address. Despite his expressionless steel head, it was as if his expression was vividly clear.
He spoke.
“Every human will become the master of their own fate, the deity of their own destiny.”
And Aslan realized what he had grasped earlier — the exact purpose of Tiyalmisof.
“Your understanding is swift, which is commendable.”
Gazing at that vivid expression, Tiyalmisof affirmed.
“No. 13 is a sort of artificial divinity. Ordinary life forms cannot endure such diverse blessings, souls, or natures. Hence, they were made to endure.”
Aslan suddenly recalled the experiment subject numbers he saw at the Supreme Divinity’s sanctuary.
Experiment subjects No. 4 and No. 5.
Experiments conducted even before the specters were resurrected.
Behind these studies was Ados.
“I entrusted Ados with the research, acting covertly while preparing the necessary technology for continued experimentation. Work commenced before my resurrection, and only after I came back to life was it finally completed.”
“No. 13….”
“Yes, No. 13 is the finished product. No. 13 is a deity incapable of bending the world with mere will, a bird with clipped wings. Yet, simultaneously, No. 13 is an almost human demigod capable of altering their destiny as desired.”
Possessing strength from divine power and the will to resist the might of a world bent by others’ wills.
The potential to defy destiny.
As Aslan understood and looked at Tiyalmisof, the latter added,
“Of course, during the process, a total of twelve experimental subjects died. Many more were eliminated during the selection process—too many to count. But… because of this, No. 13 has truly been perfected.”
When Aslan’s group initially asked if No. 13 could go out, both Ados and Tiyalmisof readily permitted it.
It was a response akin to wondering what Aslan would do if he attempted an abduction.
However, that wasn’t the case.
It was also part of the experiment.
“She awakened emotions and conscience. She revealed my whispered plans to you out of fear that you, with goodwill, might fall into a trap. By doing so, she proved herself as evolved humanity.”
An experiment to see if she could possess humanity while wielding powers beyond human capability.
Tiyalmisof smiled happily.
“Finally, humanity can grasp their destiny while remaining human. All humans will possess power befitting their greatness.”
“Are you insane?”
Seeing that joyful smile, Aslan spat bitterly, and Tiyalmisof nodded despondently.
From the moment he realized the cruelty of fate even amidst humanity’s greatness, “I went mad.”
“How many will die? Countless numbers of the humanity you call great—”
“Undoubtedly, many will die. Many will be twisted, and many will fall into corruption. But… after this process, humanity will truly evolve.”
Words don’t get through. It must be stopped. Aslan gripped the hilt tightly, and Tiyalmisof muttered bitterly.
“Aslan, the slaughterer of Archeists.”
That muttering had the power to halt Aslan in his tracks.
Stiffened Aslan. Looking at him, Tiyalmisof said,
“Just as always, this will all end up in your hands the moment you look away. The formidable power of the Great Anurthin Council. The strength of the evolved humans.”
He spread his arms wide.
“The enemy is transcendent. Their will and strength are overwhelming. Even deities have fallen to them, kneeling and dying. They are truly a world of will.”
Thus, this is the finest method.
Through the gloomy voice, madness peeked through.
And quicker than Aslan could refute, that madness shone brightly.
It was almost as if it were questioning.
“Besides, isn’t your way not much different from mine?”
“…What?”
Your way.
Aslan understood the implications.
“I know your plan. It must be Kehil, right?”
Tiyalmisof knew Aslan’s plan.
Aslan was astonished.
“How…?”
“Because I know you well, and I understand your intentions. That plan… certainly will work. But if carried out according to your plan, really, many people will die.”
The arms spread apart closed, and Tiyalmisof pointed at Aslan with his index finger.
“What difference is there between those who die according to your plan and those who die according to mine? Between those who confront and die and those who are selected and perish?”
Gradually, the voice grew louder. Tiyalmisof’s voice became increasingly coarse.
“Humans are a magnificent existence! And their magnificence requires compensation! The darkest night has arrived! Humanity lies beneath, and the era where fate rapes humanity has come! If the sun doesn’t rise, then all this suffering and waiting will have no meaning whatsoever!”
Aslan hesitated while listening to these words and lost what to say.
Tiyalmisof understood Aslan.
Perhaps, too much.
He suppressed his agitated voice while gradually observing the elevator reaching the topmost level and spoke.
“What you need to do is simple. Just as always, just as when you kill people… close your eyes and turn your head away.”
Aslan faced the excuses he had clung to all along.
“When they attacked first, you killed them. When they harmed the weak, you killed them. Pretending not to notice is fine. Isn’t it inevitable sacrifice? But by rising above that sacrifice, humans will surely grow stronger and triumph.”
His pleading, yearning, persuasive voice had already shed its mechanical tone.
The exposed voice was feminine.
Aslan’s mouth twitched.
And he remained silent for a long time.
His lowered head. When Tiyalmisof realized his voice modulation had been undone and touched his neck, Aslan looked down at the hand gripping the hilt.
Aslan lived in Geladridion for twelve years.
He killed monsters, priests, and people.
There was no objection to that.
But there was guilt and regret.
This regret and guilt opened Aslan’s mouth.
Like a confession.
“It was… because I lacked power that I killed people.”
As Tiyalmisof touched his throat and looked at Aslan, he looked down at the hand gripping the hilt and spoke.
“But I had the will. A will I couldn’t realize due to lack of power. So… I couldn’t choose the path of not killing.”
So, I killed people.
The words trailed off faintly. Tiyalmisof gazed at him silently.
“Would you regret it?”
“I do regret it.”
Once again, Tiyalmisof’s voice modulated back to male. Aslan nodded.
Such a vulnerable appearance was a first, and Tiyalmisof hesitated momentarily before speaking.
“But…”
Soon, Aslan slowly lifted his head.
“It’s different now.”
Drawing his sword from his waist, Aslan glared at Tiyalmisof.
“Now I have the power. And the will.”
Swishing, drawing the sword and gripping it, Aslan continued.
“It’s different from the past, when I knelt and merely harbored intentions, failing due to weakness.”
Purity, a word recited inadvertently, caused the bronze sword to transform into a blade blazing with white fire.
He remembered the figures he had seen, those who did not step back even in death.
Their deaths were noble, dignified, whether their intentions were righteous or not.
Their deaths had value.
“You…”
“Perhaps the path you chose is easier and yields better results.”
Aslan mulled over his own plan.
As he said, perhaps countless humans might die.
Aslan acknowledged that.
“Perhaps your plan surpasses mine. Perhaps fewer will die.”
But, he couldn’t turn a blind eye to the evil deeds and deaths right before him.
But the deaths resulting from this would carry no dignity, no greatness.
Unchosen deaths hold no value.
“Really… must it be this way?”
“Yes.”
Aslan saw the system window before him.
[Aslan]
[Level: 14]
[Strength 5] [Agility ■] [Health 5]
[Mana 20] [Resolve 10] [Luck 12]
The system window where he allocated all remaining stats into Mana and Luck.
“I will no longer turn a blind eye.”
With Aslan’s words, something arose.
Together with the light emitted from the Mana reaching its ultimate limit of 20.
The spells Aslan had learned and used.
The wild magic embodied within Aslan through battles.
The enemies Aslan confronted and fought, the experiences, the sufferings—all merged and crystallized.
[Mana Bonus]
[Unique Legendary Magic]
[Dragon King Transformation]
As messages popped up, the turbine sound from the Dragon King’s arm reverberated.
Roarrrr!
Here stands a man.
A man who rose multiple times, carving his soul and body to swing his sword.
Possessing the blood of dragons and the arm of the Dragon King, achieving countless feats unattainable by humans.
And at the end, a man who felled a god.
Clang!
A sound akin to striking an anvil echoed.
The hammer’s sound of a man who hammered himself repeatedly, refining his life into a blade, unyielding despite being struck.
Tiyalmisof heard the sound and witnessed the transformation happening before his eyes.
“This is… the divine power of fire and metallurgy…?”
The ruler of myriad forges was undoubtedly dead.
Likewise, the Black Dragon King was also deceased.
Nevertheless, what stood before them was unmistakably…
Rustle!
Scales proliferated. From the Dragon King’s arm, black scales poured forth, covering Aslan’s entire body.
Intermingling with the Dragon King’s scale armor draped over his body, it literally enveloped him entirely.
It transformed.
The scales covering his whole body hardened and took shape.
Resembling full plate armor.
[Identifying the highest-level operator, the Dragon King.]
Suddenly, a voice resonated in Tiyalmisof’s mind, and the turbine sound extended throughout Aslan’s entire body.
High! High! High!
The sound now resembled the roar of a dragon.
It must be stopped. Instinctively, Tiyalmisof transformed his right hand.
The form taken was a magic accelerator, resembling a cannon. At that position, a fireball formed and was fired.
Bang!
Amidst the roaring sound, a helmet resembling a dragon’s maw covered Aslan’s face just as the fireball struck his body.
Kaaaaa BOOM!
The ensuing inferno. Scattered flames where even dragons would struggle to survive.
Certainly, that would be the case.
Until the green light streaming from the visor of the rising dust was visible.
As the dust settled, there stood the Dragon King.
[Identifying the highest-level operator, the Dragon King. Initiating…]
The moment the dust settled, the Dragon King’s figure disappeared.
With the roar of a dragon, it vanished.
The predatory voice resonating in Tiyalmisof’s mind seemed to cut off.
Even his specialized visual modules for detection failed to track it.
‘Disappeared—’
Yet, the acceleration continued straight forward.
The vanished figure reappeared, and a punch landed.
Kraaaackkk!
Tiyalmisof’s body shattered into pieces.
Only one blow was allowed. With the force of that single blow, one of the Tiyalmisofs ceased to function.
Among the scattered scrap metal, he revealed himself.
The last Dragon King who defied even the world itself.
