Aslan runs, and behind him, the traveling party follows.
Each has a different speed, but beneath those running, shadows wildly fluctuated.
The fluctuating shadows stretch forward, overtaking the traveling party.
The shadows reach the evil ghosts and the martial monks.
Something is coming. Those who instinctively sense it stop their movements, and simultaneously, the shadows transform into countless spears that surge upward.
A deafening sound echoes!
The surging shadow spears form a forest of spears, an eerie sight.
Most of the martial monks manage to block or sustain minor injuries.
An enemy at the level of a high-ranking priest. As if to prove this, they quickly regain their stance and charge towards Aslan’s group.
They collide. From the spot where broken abysses fall, they leap out, swinging weapons and throwing their bodies.
A colossal roar shakes the air!
Thus, they collide.
At the moment of impact, several martial monks are sent flying.
The rest move sharply, either clashing weapons or launching coordinated attacks.
Amidst the sharp clangs of metal and the smell of iron, Aslan charges toward the evil ghost.
Facing the evil ghost, Aslan runs. They will soon meet.
The evil ghost prepares a sword strike aimed at the approaching Aslan.
While running, Aslan swings his sword. Though lacking power in the waist, he drives it with momentum, thrusting forward.
A thrust designed to tear flesh upon contact. Just as it is about to be unleashed…
The form of the charging Aslan momentarily blurs.
It disperses like morning mist.
Will it reach? Or will it miss?
There was no hesitation. The evil ghost does not halt its sword.
—
Screeeech!
The sword slices through the air. At the point where it doesn’t connect, Aslan reappears.
An illusion. It has been deceived. Breaking through Lewena’s illusion, Aslan emerges.
Clangggg!
Aslan swings a beast-like weapon, deflecting the evil ghost’s sword.
The blade caught on the edge emits a harsh sound as it bounces away, and purity fills the gap, rushing forward.
A sharp thrust. It appears Aslan intends to slash vertically.
But the evil ghost’s response isn’t late. The sword, which seemed paused resisting the intricate illusion, now thrusts forward.
Thus, the holy sword and purity intertwine.
With a resounding clang, the two mythological weapons fall.
Between them, the two warriors close the distance.
Aslan. Beneath his feet lies the aura of an evil deity.
The evil ghost, in opposition, roars while facing him.
In the roar, the clashing blades meet.
Kaahhhhh!
From below to above, from above to below.
The two sharp strikes meet and then part.
It resembles a celestial battle. They separate, only to reconnect, repeating this cycle endlessly.
Each collision triggers swift motions.
The metallic sounds grow faster—1 second, 0.3 seconds, 0.1 seconds, 0.09 seconds, 0.03 seconds—until they become imperceptibly rapid.
At such speeds, ear-piercing metallic sounds echo.
The scattered dirt and drizzling rain seem stationary compared to the ultra-high-speed movements.
Amid this chaos, the two warriors move at normal speed.
Breathing can be felt at such proximity. Their bodies collide.
A heavy yet sharp weight is sensed.
To disrupt this, the evil ghost pushes off with the knee that made contact.
Resisting this, Aslan adjusts his balance backward, sharply countering with a horizontal slash.
Swinging, swinging, and thrusting, the sword barely manages to block.
In one motion, four actions flow. Blocking alone would leave one cornered and defeated like prey.
Movement must continue endlessly.
In this life-or-death situation, the evil ghost recalls the past.
It was similar to when he declared war on the gods.
When he ascended to near-divinity and sought to conquer the world, he faced hundreds of divine beings.
This fact astonishes him.
For a single human to exude the same oppressive aura as hundreds of divine beings.
The evil ghost moves his sword ceaselessly while marveling.
Skill, strength, divinity, and authority possessed by these beings.
It seemed impossible to defeat them, and ultimately, he lost that battle.
This fight against the man reminds him of that.
Victory seems nearly unattainable.
But he must try.
For his ambition, he must overcome this level of threat.
The emotionless evil ghost who once slew gods now moves with fervor, determined to succeed this time.
What lies before him is not just a passing obstacle but the strongest adversary he has ever faced.
Retreat is not an option.
Clangggg!
Sharp sparks fly.
Tilting the hilt, the sword is deflected with a short swing. Aslan blocks with his wing while twisting his waist.
A natural follow-up wing attack.
It’s too late to block. Kaang! A resonating metallic sound echoes as the toughest part of the evil ghost’s head armor is torn away.
Inner flesh is exposed, and the retreating evil ghost flashes a look of determination as blood flows.
He can adapt. He can counter.
His self-hypnotic whispers become divine power.
War god, berserker.
His specialty is adaptation.
He adapts to every attack he experiences and can counter it.
Reading the distant aura within Aslan’s strikes, he responds accordingly.
Every twist of Aslan’s waist leads to a wing attack and simultaneous sword strike.
Thinking it’s blocked, kicks, punches, shoulders, and headbutts fill the gaps.
Each blow feels like overlapping death falling away. It’s as if dancing with death itself.
Yet there is no fear. The evil ghost grips his sword.
Amid the cacophony of sounds resembling gunfire, the evil ghost suddenly turns his head.
Kaang!
Turning his head, he swings his greatsword. The tip dispels magic.
The rebounding magic transforms into rock.
A familiar method. His eyes roll, and beyond them, Tiyalmisof stands.
Her arm stretched out like a cannon, she aims at the evil ghost.
And in that fleeting moment, Aslan creates distance.
Leaping several steps, he widens the gap, plants Purity into the ground, and draws the Abyssal Blade.
The Abyss transformed into a longbow, and he takes aim.
That’s not all. The evil ghost senses countless hostile intents surrounding him from all directions.
Reading all these intents, he lowers his stance.
Two swords in his hands tilt.
His eyes glow red.
Kwaahh!
An arrow-sized projectile is fired.
Tu tu tu tu tung!
Fired in rapid succession, the Abyss flies like arrows.
Kwa kwa kwa kwa!
Tiyalmisof’s cannon unleashes multiple attributes and manifestations.
The 13th staff crafts countless fireballs and releases them.
Overflowing flames and countless Abyss projectiles target the evil ghost alongside fatal magics capable of shattering mountains.
At the center, the evil ghost swings both swords.
Kwa gwa gwa gwa gwa gwa gwa gwa gwa gang!
An explosion rises, and dust soars.
Lost in memories of the past, the evil ghost mechanically slashes everything targeting him.
Recalling his origin.
The day his village fell, and everyone he knew died.
Actually, the evil ghost had lied to Tiyalmisof.
It wasn’t a capricious god who burned his village and killed his family.
It was humans.
Moreover, the village he lived in wasn’t entirely innocent.
The people in the village where the evil ghost lived monopolized the profits from a secretly discovered vein of ore, killing and burying anyone who came looking.
The village was destroyed not by a whimsical god but by a marauding nobleman seeking to claim that monopoly.
A wandering knight, a man who had lost his fiefdom.
He attacked the village to reclaim his land using the profits from the monopoly.
As night fell, the village and the knight were mutually annihilated.
Both the knight’s hired soldiers and all the villagers, without exception, perished.
Only the evil ghost survived.
There, he witnessed the battle between evil and evil.
Neither the village nor the knight was righteous.
No one was innocent.
From them, the evil ghost learned the ugliness of humanity.
Magic flutters. Arrows bounce.
The Abyss gouges the earth, and beyond it, the evil ghost sees the woman standing far away.
The magician who teleported him high into the air.
She cannot be left alone. Flowing through the empty magic nets like water, he picks up the arrow-sized projectile from the ground and launches it.
Kwaaaooong!
The moment he grabs it, he fires. The projectile, equipped with feathers, flies at high speed toward the 13th staff.
Startled, the 13th staff stiffens as the Abyss intercepts her path.
Kwajijijijjjik!
The Abyss shatters and scatters, but the spear is blocked.
Conversely, the power of Aslan’s arrows diminishes.
The weakened magic net fades. Beyond the recalibrated net, the evil ghost’s eyes dart toward Aslan.
Moving faster than the barrage of projectiles, the evil ghost crosses the battlefield like a ghost and reaches Aslan.
Aslan already wields the Abyssal Blade transformed into a thick and heavy glaive.
Thus, they clash again.
Kwaooong! The sheer force of the swing makes the air tremble. The halberd approaches as if intending to split everything.
Blocking it with the holy sword, the evil ghost desperately closes the distance.
Once again, he becomes lost in the past. Extreme concentration digs up buried memories.
He clearly escaped alone after the village was completely destroyed in mutual slaughter.
He fled.
During his escape, the evil ghost realized how ugly humanity was.
He wished vaguely for it to disappear.
Later, the evil ghost was picked up by a talented dwarf.
He regarded her as both mother and lover and grew under her care. Even in this life, his thoughts did not change.
He asked his mother and lover to sharpen a weapon for him, and with that weapon, he became the evil ghost.
Eventually, the evil ghost met Ados.
From her, the evil ghost learned much.
And decided.
That freedom for humans was unnecessary and the current neglect was unnatural; he would correct it.
The evil ghost wished to become the order that suppresses the ugliness of humanity.
Kaahhhhh!
As the past fades, flames erupt.
Erupting flames. As they ripple, the black glaive targets the neck. The evil ghost deflects it with the holy sword and closes the distance.
Sidestepping, he thrusts his sword.
Though one might expect confusion from the sudden increase in distance, Aslan subtly twists his body, transforming the glaive into a swordbreaker.
The reshaped swordbreaker catches the sword, entwining it. Sparks fly briefly, swallowed by the dark blade.
In the created instant, without needing to pull away or close the gap, Aslan swings his left hand.
Ka dddddddeek!
Held in his left hand is a beast, Tiyalmisof’s masterpiece.
The sawblade cuts into his side.
Pain clouds his vision, turning it white and black. It flickers. A tearing, grinding pain.
Yet the evil ghost does not stop. Pain is familiar.
Ka ga gang!
He swings the holy sword. The swung holy sword strikes Aslan’s head.
A painful blow. The slash from the wounded side is unbelievably powerful.
Momentarily surpassing Angie’s monstrous strength. That’s not all.
There’s another divinity. This divinity cracks Aslan’s unbreakable helmet and scratches his eye.
He loses his left eye. For a brief moment, Aslan’s face shows surprise.
But he does not hesitate. Aslan’s leg extends, striking the abdomen.
Cchheerrrrng!
Thrown back, the evil ghost’s dragging feet carve a furrow into the ground, no longer human.
The evil ghost dreamed of order.
Abandoning humanity, serving and being used by an evil deity, still he desired unwavering, mighty order.
For this, the world must remain closed.
Unlike Ados, who ruled from the top, his rule differed.
Whereas Ados accepted human desires and ugliness, the evil ghost intended to eliminate all human desires and ugliness.
What he desired was perfect order.
For this, he would kill any enemy without hesitation.
Spitting blood, the evil ghost raises his head to look at Aslan.
Aslan’s emerald eye meets the evil ghost’s red eye.
Through this, they understand.
That they are of the same kind.
And having surpassed mastery, the two warriors recognize each other through their exchanged blows.
Aslan and the evil ghost are similar.
Similar but clearly different.
While Aslan trusts the goodwill of humanity, the evil ghost disregards its insignificance and rarity.
Idealism versus reality.
Trust versus distrust.
Like twin blades, though similar, their forms differ as they glare at each other.
In wanting a world where no one kills or suffers, they are the same, yet they point their swords at each other.
“Why do you interfere?”
But emotions dredged up from the past make the evil ghost speak.
Upon hearing this, Aslan raises an eyebrow in surprise.
Aslan exchanges blows with the evil ghost.
Through these exchanges, Aslan understands the evil ghost.
The will embedded in his attacks and the information conveyed.
With two pieces of information, it becomes impossible not to understand the evil ghost’s words.
The question is unclear.
But it is understood.
Aslan answers straightforwardly with Purity still aimed.
“Because you’re going to kill many people.”
The evil ghost quietly asks.
“Is that all?”
“That’s enough.”
The conversation ends there.
Being similar yet different, they are parallel lines.
Parallel lines resemble blades, so what remains is one thing.
Life and death.
The righteous shall live, and the wrong shall die.
They run toward each other.
Ka ga ga ga ga ga ga jak!
Aslan rushes in, swinging the beast. Six spinning sawblades, furious like a storm.
The evil ghost receives the attack with the holy sword, pushing his wrist aside before driving his shoulder forward.
Bang!
Pushed back, Aslan stumbles, and the evil ghost immediately raises his single-edged sword, aiming for Aslan’s lost eye.
Kwa deg!
Just before the attack connects, Aslan turns his head to evade, diving inward.
The blade tears his cheek but does not stop him from closing the distance.
The beast already poised to swing inward.
The moment the distance closes, it is swung.
From inside out.
From the lower right to the upper left.
The carapace splits and scatters in all directions.
The pungent smell of insect fluids mixed with blood.
The urge to vomit as blood and flesh burst from his mouth.
Though the holy sword slips from his grip, the evil ghost does not give up.
The powerless hand stretches out, grabbing Aslan’s wrist.
“Huhk!”
Kwa aaaang!
Then he smashes his head forward, delivering a headbutt.
The sharp carapace penetrates and shatters the spot struck by the headbutt, more than enough to rip it apart.
Aslan’s left eye regenerates just in time to be shattered by the headbutt, the lens spilling out.
The burning sensation on his face, the flowing lens and optic nerve, a damp tingling.
But Aslan grits his teeth, releasing and gripping the Purity in his right hand.
Kwa aaaang!
“Keh…!”
The fist freed from Purity strikes the evil ghost’s wounded side.
Blood splatters, chunks of flesh fall heavily, and pieces of torn organs drop.
Death lingers. The evil ghost staggers backward, following the pull of death.
Aslan also retreats, pushed back.
The gap is three steps.
The warriors, able to close this gap in an instant, lock eyes.
Aslan holds the beast, and the evil ghost grips the holy sword low.
The swirling dust settles onto the ground.
Taking this as a signal, the two warriors dash toward each other like arrows.
Just before the collision, the shadow stirs.
The Abyss, having lost control to Lewena, a god consumed by formlessness and one ancient deity, weakens.
Weakened thus, the Abyss struggles to wield full power in Geladridion.
Therefore, the Abyss, Lewena, made Ados and Tiyalmisof priests and high priests to absorb their divine powers and use them as conduits to expand the Abyss’s influence in Geladridion.
As a result, Lewena could open localized Abysses even without Aslan’s help.
As the evil ghost charges and Aslan faces him, the evil ghost hesitates and stumbles.
The evil ghost’s foot is enveloped in shadow.
By just 1 cm. The lost balance is minimal and quickly recovered.
The foot pulls free from the Abyss without resistance and steps forward.
But in the duel of warriors surpassing mastery, a momentary opening, a 1 cm error, is enormous.
The evil ghost fails to notice the change while trying to receive the beast’s attack with his body and cut the throat with the holy sword.
Aslan, who had planted Purity behind him, does not see it transform into the Watcher’s Sword.
Whoosh!
The rough cries of Tiyalmisof’s beast cease, replaced by the sound of blazing white flames.
It’s too late to change the response.
Aslan stops his advance, lowering his upper body while swinging the sword from the upper left.
It cannot be blocked.
Zzuk!
The sword piercing from the upper left, cutting through the clavicle.
Without resistance, the blade slides through the lung, splits the heart, crushes the spine, and exits through the already torn side.
A semicircle of white light traces the arc, and the holy sword the evil ghost was about to swing freezes.
Blood spurts. Massive amounts of blood flow from the diagonal wound.
The mixture of insect fluids and blood smells of iron and the sticky odor unique to insects.
The stumbling evil ghost takes a few steps back and stops.
Finally, his body splits diagonally.
Thud!
He falls backward, intestines spilling out as his body collapses.
The left half of his body, lying in the rain, turns the frozen permafrost red.
Still, the right hand clutches the holy sword.
Aslan silently looks at the fallen evil ghost and turns his head.
The others’ battles seem over as well.
Either finishing off the fallen martial monks or attacking and defeating those fighting the others.
The fight is done. As the dragon king scales covering Aslan’s body creep back into his left arm, Ereta runs up.
“Aslan!”
Perhaps intending to treat the wound on his left eye, Ereta runs with flames in her embrace.
Aslan looks at her.
Suddenly, Ereta flinches and starts running urgently when he hears an indescribable strange sound from behind.
An inexplicable noise mixed with the sound of falling intestines.
“Aslan, behind!”
From afar, atop the ridge, Tiamat shouts. Aslan turns his head and sees it.
Clearly, the body of the evil ghost, split diagonally, standing upright.
Though the severed left half still lies on the ground, the corpse remains standing.
More precisely, it is supported by the holy sword.
Witnessing this anomaly, faster than Aslan’s thoughts, his training kicks in, raising Purity for defense.
Simultaneously, the body of the evil ghost, the holy sword, moves.
More accurately, the divinity everyone believed to be the supreme deity’s holy sword.
The gray covering the sword falls off.
Revealing beneath the falling carapace, an empty darkness.
It forms a shape, enveloped in an even darker presence.
These are the sensory organs of the Supreme Divinity.
A willful force, a fragment of the Supreme Divinity, shaped into a sword by the blacksmith.
It moves.
Without a sound, it assumes a stance.
Wriggling, it points backward.
Aslan recognizes the stance.
It’s a horizontal slash.
More specifically, Aslan’s own horizontal slash.
—
The sensory organ swings.
Launched so fast that even Aslan fails to perceive it, fortune itself reacting too slowly.
The process of launching is like glass breaking, only the result occurs.
The horizon splits.
And the Supreme Divinity appears.
