An evil ghost.
One of the three evils known as the God of War, a man who had already died long ago.
Once human, but now an existence that has become a deity.
Lewena stretched out her hand naturally as she looked at that being.
She couldn’t help Aslan.
It was because she had said it would be better for her to go help the traveling party while Aslan dealt with Tiyalmisof alone after considering the battle situation.
And afterward, the combat scenario she discerned with her Abyssal Sword was indeed one in which she could not intervene.
Her cognitive abilities couldn’t keep up with the acceleration of the ultra-fast-paced battle.
So she focused on this situation.
The most irreversible illusion. The disturbance of senses that precedes the opening of battle, even before the first exchange of blows.
She extended her hand to bring him forth.
She aimed, drew up her mana, and the boiling dark mana soon coalesced at her fingertips, forming a shapeless form.
A movement befitting her, a master of the Illusion school.
This subtle manipulation of mana went unnoticed even by Ados, who had brought lightning into the realm of magic, and No. 13, who was beloved by magic.
But the evil ghost moved.
Whoosh!
It was a light sound. Lewena immediately sensed death rushing toward her very presence.
Of course, Lewena does not die. For her, death does not exist.
Even if her avatar is destroyed and regeneration takes time, she suffers no damage from attacks.
However, since she became the Abyss after ceasing to be Lewena, the only ways she could influence the world were through her avatars or the Abyssal Sword.
What might happen in her absence?
The annihilation of the traveling party.
Though overly pessimistic, Lewena thought it wasn’t entirely impossible.
Recalling the face of Lee Hyun-woo, who would despair beyond mere disappointment, she tried to forcibly summon a shadow to counterattack—but.
KAAAAANG!
An incoming figure simultaneously blocked the evil ghost’s slash, and Lewena halted the wavering shadow.
Large violet eyes opened wide.
Before them, the gleaming light was of flames and steel.
It was Ereta who had intervened.
The daughter of the spider, who once engaged in trivial arguments with Aslan.
She was swinging her axe upward to deflect the sword.
The single-edged sword being pushed back. The entire traveling party’s gaze turned to the center of the action.
There still stood a rather shabby-looking man.
The God of War, the evil ghost.
As his swung sword was deflected, he moved his arm.
Using the recoil from the deflection, he swung his sword again in a large circle around his body.
His technique was exceedingly proficient, with nearly perfect control of speed and timing.
Because of this, the sword strike aimed at Ereta’s neck upon his second leap carried more power than the first.
It was difficult to block, but not impossible. Ereta quickly pulled back her axe, which had been aimed at her own neck, to intercept the blow.
Clang!
At the moment of impact, the blade twisted like entwined snakes, piercing toward her neck.
Ereta winced at the unfamiliar sensation of her neck being torn, but the evil ghost continued to close the distance.
Perhaps intending to drive the sword deeper and threaten the nearby Lewena, he got extremely close.
The thick single-edged sword, about the size of an adult’s palm, was cutting into Ereta’s neck as if slicing through it.
Yet her consciousness did not fade from this.
Crack!
Ereta swung a mace drawn from her waist to strike the single-edged sword.
The sword retreated, slicing past her neck, and the retreating evil ghost was struck in the side by Ereta’s powerful leg.
Zzzziiip!
Crashhh!
The kick to the side.
Due to some newfound strength, Ereta’s power surpassed Angie’s, yet strangely, there was no sensation of having landed the blow.
It was as though she had kicked a ghost.
Indeed, the evil ghost spun mid-motion from the force of the kick and landed gracefully.
The distance widened. They faced off. At least four exchanges had passed, yet not even a second had elapsed.
And as that second passed, a red figure entered the fray.
The elven girl darted forward, drawing two swords.
A greatsword disproportionate to her frame and a longsword wreathed in flames.
Simultaneously aiming to split her head and neck, the evil ghost responded without so much as a breath.
Ting ting ting ting ting!
Bright metallic sounds rang out continuously.
Phey leapt and swung her sword.
He deflected it with the flat of his blade.
Next, he intercepted a thin thrust aimed at his eyes and countered by thrusting at Phey.
Avoiding this, Phey swung in the air, and the evil ghost swiftly retracted his swung sword, turning his body sharply and throwing the hilt forward.
Zeeeeeeng!
“Ugh.”
The forceful strike. The heavy hilt collided with the blade, pushing Phey backward.
It was not human strength. Though it was assumed that as a specter, he had enhanced himself with wild magic, the evil ghost’s strength surpassed that.
This was clearly the power of a priest.
More specifically, the power of a high-ranking priest.
The moment Phey realized this, the evil ghost closed the distance.
A pace neither too fast nor too slow, resembling a ghost.
In an instant, he closed the gap and casually raised his sword.
Gripping the leather-wrapped pommel with the edge not set vertically, he swung sharply.
An agile and swift attack unsuited to such a heavy sword.
Phey parried the strike while airborne and landed, only for the evil ghost to follow up with a downward slash.
Whoooom!
Even before the downward strike connected, the evil ghost tilted his head back.
The arrow speeding toward his tilted head veered off, scattering concrete as it embedded itself in the floor.
“To dodge this?”
Tiamat’s voice betrayed confusion. Only three seconds had passed. Finally, the standoff had broken.
Crashhhhh!
Sizzle, crashhh!
Ados, observing from a high position, wordlessly summoned lightning, and below, Lumel encircled himself with it.
Thus, Lumel launching with twin spears and Ados releasing lightning happened simultaneously.
The woman wrapped in lightning and the woman who controlled it to forget old wounds.
Below the clash of two sharp bolts of lightning, the evil ghost lightly shook off his sword and lunged forward.
Silent. Expressionless.
But familiar.
Angie rushed forward as if trying to erase that familiarity, and Richard followed behind to support her.
Drawing in a deep breath and exhaling, she delivered a downward strike.
The sword glowing like a flame of victory held high seemed, at a glance, like a meteor striving to return to the ground.
Its power truly rivaled that of a meteor.
Even someone like Richard would find it hard to deflect such a blow.
The evil ghost stood directly in its path and abruptly lowered his stance.
A posture so low it seemed like he was diving.
Then, as if a compressed spring released, the previously leaning body shot forward.
Thus evading the spot where the sword would plunge.
“Huh?”
Beyond mastery, an incomprehensible level of weight shifting.
Angie’s sword strike futilely hammered the ground, scattering concrete in all directions, while the evil ghost positioned himself behind Angie and swung his weapon.
“This is…!”
Crack!
The swing. The latent power was considerable.
Yet it was insufficient to breach Angie’s flesh.
Her reflexively raised arm took the blow, and the sword was deflected.
Skin split open, blood spurted from the blocking arm, but even that soon ceased.
A regenerative ability and resilience beyond imagination.
To the evil ghost, it was familiar.
Proof of a hero who rises again and again, no matter how many times they are cut, shot, or burned.
To put it in terms Aslan would use: the boon of a Level 20 Health Hero.
The evil ghost’s sword couldn’t overcome this boon, and thus, amidst repeated swings, Angie adapted.
“Ughh…”
But adapting was all she could do.
Each successive swing was a kind of technique far beyond what Angie could catch up to.
Changing paths with every swing, sharply penetrating and swiftly retreating.
If there was any chance, it would tenaciously latch on, resembling a snake.
Wrapping around the arm like a snake, it pierced through the scaled armor shielding the arm and aimed for the neck.
Blocking with a fist, it would slip away and instead strike the side.
Sssssssssss!
Phey swooped in to exploit an opening, but the evil ghost evaded with the ghost-like agility he had already demonstrated.
Too elusive to grasp.
Phey charged again, Richard covered the rear, and Ereta approached with her mace in the middle.
Richard’s rear-guard punch was blocked just before reaching the evil ghost by the hilt of his sword.
Attempting to seize the hilt with a grappling maneuver using his armored hand, the sword was swiftly twisted free, and a light sidekick created distance.
Phey’s slashing blade was smoothly deflected along the sword’s surface and then pushed back with a punch.
Ereta’s chopping axe appeared to be intercepted with the blade, but then he sharply crouched to evade.
Zeeeng! A white flame surged from the point of impact, scattering paving stones and concrete as it ignited.
Through the swirling flames, something pierced through.
An arrow flying as the distance widened.
An arrow shot from afar by Tiamat, potent beyond measure.
Before the arrow reached him, Rowena traced the air with her hand, and the arrow disappeared from the evil ghost’s sight.
And then…
Crackkkkk!
The arrow pierced through the evil ghost.
Armor plates and chainmail fluttered in the wind as the evil ghost flew backward, tumbling across the ground.
Crashhhhh!
Above the traveling party, the lightning still roared.
Beneath the clash of lightning, the traveling party observed the flying evil ghost.
The arrow had pierced his shoulder.
Centered on the shoulder, part of his cloak or armor was grotesquely torn and fell to the ground.
It might have seemed like an opportunity, but the traveling party didn’t close the distance.
From Tiamat, who fired the arrow, to the rest of the group who witnessed it up close.
They all saw it in the final moment.
How the evil ghost, upon being struck by the arrow, threw his body backward to disperse the impact.
The revealed flesh was that of a human.
The flowing blood remained crimson. The blood dripping onto the ground showed no signs of stopping.
Yet the evil ghost firmly gripped his sword and pointed it forward.
His appearance, his fighting style, everything was painfully familiar to the group.
Therefore, the traveling party couldn’t easily close the distance.
The evil ghost felt like an opponent they could not defeat, yet at the same time, someone who wouldn’t fall no matter what.
While reacting nimbly to focus on survival, he persistently sought opportunities.
The group knew of one person like this.
Someone who survived for such a long time and eventually achieved their desired divinity.
The evil ghost was of the same ilk as Aslan.
They could also understand how he became a phantom.
None other than the evil ghost himself had shown it right before their eyes.
Even under the influence of an illusionary spell that made him unaware of the arrow, he minimized the damage upon being struck.
He didn’t retreat despite continuous attacks and various means.
His honed skills repeatedly sought opportunities amidst disadvantageous situations.
Perhaps he was waiting for the moment when the group overextended themselves to secure a definitive victory.
Tiamat read the evil ghost’s momentum while keeping her arrow nocked, and Phey switched the greatsword in her left hand to her back, gripping the longsword with both hands.
Ereta adjusted her grip on her axe and raised her stance, while Angie licked her torn palm and clenched victory.
Richard belatedly donned the gauntlets left by the overseer, while the evil ghost slowly returned to his stance and rose, observing the group’s movements.
Above, the clash of lightning continued until it finally subsided.
Crashhh!
Finally, the lightning ceased, and both the woman firing lightning and the woman encircled by it descended to the ground, glaring at each other with identical faces.
No. 13 had observed all the battles and hesitated.
Had she met them before, at their first encounter, she would have cast her magic without hesitation.
But No. 13 met Aslan’s group and learned about them.
Even with the situation unfolding this way, she couldn’t cast her magic.
She hesitated, wand in hand, unsure of the direction to aim or the reason why.
Her trembling blue eyes, with their vertical pupils quivering within, finally settled on Ados, who had extinguished the lightning.
The woman who played a major role in creating her, practically her mother.
The woman frowned.
It was a familiar expression.
An expression that often appeared when Ados wanted something from No. 13 but refrained from acting on it.
Seeing that face, No. 13 unknowingly raised her wand.
A woman who never sought affection and therefore didn’t know how to seek it, extended her wand.
Mana coalesced at the tip of the wand.
