The rapidly approaching monsters.
Aslan swept his gaze over them and transformed the Abyssal Sword in his left hand.
The form it took was that of a glaive—a heavy axe blade mixed with a sharp, piercing spear blade.
Commonly referred to as a bardiche, this polearm was closer to an axe.
Aslan gripped the haft tightly and moved his hand behind his back.
The shape that came into contact with his hand was familiar: Tiyalmisof’s beast. Bending at the waist while unleashing it, he swung it simultaneously.
Charging monsters—while simultaneously perceiving their forms through intuition and sight, Aslan minimized the margin of error and launched a direct attack.
Krrrrrk, Kaang!
With a roar like a suppressed beast, the sawblade unfolded. The trajectory it shot out clearly outlined a decisive blow.
Yet, it didn’t cut. Aslan immediately furrowed his brow upon seeing the monster that had touched the blade tip.
It was neither splintering nor stopping. The monster closed the distance as if the sawblade didn’t even exist.
Realizing this, Aslan released the beast and gripped the glaive with both hands.
The distance was too close; there wasn’t enough time to activate the beast’s gimmick to strike.
However, he could still push back with the far more impactful glaive.
Aslan swung the Abyssal weapon he held with both hands while taking two steps forward.
An upward slash with the bardiche. Before the axe blade even reached the monster, Aslan’s eyes quickly shifted.
This movement traced an imaginary trajectory.
Swinging upward and then immediately pulling back while twisting his waist, Aslan carved out a path to slice the monster approaching from directly beside him.
Aslan’s exceptional combat skills were affirmed, and he immediately exerted force into the bardiche he held in his hands.
Kwaahhh!
The axe blade, charged with power and accelerating, cut through something darker than its already blackened edge.
Aslan’s eyes widened as they landed on the monster split in half.
It was strange. The hardness differed from the high-ranking priests of the Dark Ram he had encountered before.
But Aslan didn’t falter and changed his movements.
“Aaaaiiiieeeek!”
A texture akin to grinding echoed up the shaft.
Bowing his head and thrusting the bardiche backward, he pierced the monster that lunged with its forelimbs from behind.
Whether it aimed for his head or not, strands of hair fluttered in the wind. Aslan exhaled softly and pulled the axe blade out to the side.
The sound of crashing followed, and soon after, more monsters surged forward.
Aslan scanned the area with his eyes and swung the extracted axe blade widely.
This was essentially an attack aimed at suppression.
However, the result was far beyond mere suppression.
Wherever the axe blade carved a dark trajectory, the sides, waists, and necks of the monsters split apart, causing them to collapse.
Aslan glanced at the monsters sprawled dead on the ground and thought it strange.
“Verification will be necessary.”
Immediately drawing the watcher’s sword from his waist and gripping it in reverse, Aslan stabbed it toward the approaching monster.
Kaang!
The blade failed to pierce the monster’s belly skin and instead bounced off.
Clearly, something was amiss.
Seeing the monster raise its arm high, Aslan twisted his body to evade the attack and raised the glaive in his other hand.
He struck downward, severing the monster’s head and arms.
Looking at the black crystals falling to the ground, Aslan threw a hard punch at the charging monster.
Though the strength contained in the swinging fist was significant, the monster merely staggered, showing no real damage.
Aslan confirmed this upon observing the scene.
Slightly frowning, he muttered,
“Acceleration.”
The trace of mana flowing from Astrid’s farewell coursed through his heart, transforming into the magic of acceleration and spreading throughout his body.
In response to this mana, his cloak unleashed Hel’s wind—the coldest breeze of the underworld.
When the chill spread amidst the sudden snowfall, Hel’s wind unfurled its wings.
Tshaaaahhhhhh!
The moment the cape took on the shape of reptilian wings, Aslan’s body moved.
Twisting his waist almost rotationally, every part of his body—from his ankles to his shoulders—moved organically.
The wing he swung while lowering his stance carved a dark trajectory in the air, slicing six charging monsters in one fell swoop.
Guguguuguuguuung!
The sound of several coniferous trees collapsing echoed, and Aslan looked past the rustling leaves at the remaining monsters.
At first, he thought these might be creatures related to the Dark Ram or its minions.
They resembled the grotesque beings he had faced when battling Thor Mull, who had been resurrected as a priest of the Dark Ram.
Among them, those cut by the wing did not move again.
Even though they hadn’t fallen to the Watcher’s sword or the Dragon King’s punch, they split apart effortlessly upon contact with the wing—as easily as cutting butter with a heated knife.
Despite the seemingly minor difference in power, Aslan inferred:
These creatures could only be defeated by divine power.
That’s why they fell instantly when struck by the Abyssal Sword, embodying the abyss itself, or the wings imbued with the divine essence of the Poison-Spitting Dragon.
On the other hand, they remained unscathed against the beast, the Watcher’s sword, or the Dragon King’s punch—all lacking or possessing weak divine power.
This reinforced Aslan’s assumption.
Aslan looked at the creatures that could only be defeated by divine power but were surprisingly weak.
Not a trace of the divine essence of the Dark Ram could be felt.
Thus, Aslan guessed that these monsters had been summoned by the Voracious Eater.
After all, the most famous habit of the Voracious Eater was the ability to summon beings from different timelines.
While it was unclear whether these creatures came from the future or the past, Aslan was certain:
Considering that this South Empire belonged to the Voracious Eater’s domain and that he hadn’t encountered such creatures during his 12 years of survival, it was clear.
Yet, even with this conclusion, something still seemed off.
The monsters paused as if wary of Aslan’s unfurled wings. Their faint aura hinted at the presence of will.
It appeared as if they hesitated due to fear of an unimaginable enemy.
This was unlike the Dark Ram.
From the final moments of Thor Mull, Astrid, and the fearless Bijou, it was evident that leaving any semblance of will in the monsters was not the way of the Dark Ram.
Moreover, Lumel and Lewena wouldn’t have fallen so easily to these creatures.
Lumel, wielding two relics of pure divine power, and Lewena, who practically embodied the abyss and could slaughter such monsters simply by scattering shadows—these companions would not have fled or succumbed to such foes.
These monsters weren’t powerful enough for that.
Thus, Aslan considered another possibility:
Perhaps they weren’t incapable of being killed—they simply hadn’t been killed.
At that realization, fortune reacted suddenly.
Turning his head, Aslan saw the corpse of a fallen monster.
Its tough crystalline skin, impervious to anything but divine power, concealed internal organs now spilled out.
Despite its twisted insides, Aslan found them eerily familiar.
Fortune confirmed this insight.
These were humans.
Precisely, the pinnacle of human evolution.
Just as dwarves became will-less monsters and horned hunters of prosperity turned into Wendigos,
these were the last remnants of humanity.
At this transcendent intuition, Aslan stood dumbfounded for a moment before frowning.
It was unpleasant.
It was obvious that these beings hailed from a future where Aslan had failed.
Neither harming them nor witnessing their fear towards him sat well with him.
Without hesitation, Aslan bent his legs immediately.
“Summon Thunder.”
Kwaaaaarrrrrr!
Thunder roared as Aslan’s figure soared skyward.
As he leapt into the air, the monsters, noticing Aslan’s disappearance, hastily devoured their fallen comrades.
Floating mid-air, Aslan watched their disturbing transformation with discomfort.
He turned his head, keeping his dragon wings spread, and scanned the skies.
Something felt wrong.
Bloodstains, snow falling endlessly as if erasing the world itself, and a sun that refused to move—everything seemed unnatural.
Though uncertain earlier due to the underground location of the Anuritin Parliament Fortress, Aslan now understood from his aerial vantage point:
Time in the South Empire had stopped.
Frozen like a clock stuck in place, it occasionally rewound with a grinding sound.
And within this halted time, there stood a pillar of concentrated light.
So massive that it was vividly visible even from Aslan’s distant position.
As he observed it, Aslan thought:
Only one person could make such a phenomenon possible: a high-ranking priest of The Immovable One—the Voracious Eater.
Aslan realized his role. Twisting his body mid-air, he began gliding directly toward the pillar of light.
Surely, Lumel and Lewena would be there.
As the light pillar grew closer, Aslan recalled an old man.
A grotesque figure resembling what an eight-eyed marine creature might look like if it became human—an utterly revolting appearance.
People called him the Voracious Eater.
*
And now, this Voracious Eater lay on the ground.
An ancient relic who had survived since the days when the heavens opened and evil deities poured forth.
He believed his survival was due to caution.
Avoiding aggressive expansion of his influence or territory,
and carefully avoiding conflict with the Veil of Compassion, his natural predator.
It made sense to think so.
Surviving without expending much energy for such a long time, thanks to securing and maintaining the outskirts of the South Empire as his domain,
it was indeed reasonable to attribute his longevity to his cautious nature.
But as he died now, closing his eyes, it was precisely this caution that had led to his demise.
As the blue blood flowed from the fallen elder, a girl stepped out from behind him.
Following her steps, the heavy two-handed flail she carried swayed.
A bizarre weapon, its length rivaling that of a typical spear, adorned with insect-like mechanisms.
The insect-like device extended along a chain toward a wedge-shaped, crystalline hammer, creating a peculiar appearance.
It resembled a fishing rod.
Holding this strange weapon, the girl gently traced the crystalline hammer glowing with an ethereal blue light soaked in blood.
The flowing blood from the hammer-like crystal testified that she had killed the Voracious Eater.
The girl’s hand holding the flail bore gloves resembling the weapon itself, glowing with a blue light, supporting her slender frame.
Her appearance wielding this weapon brought a peculiar sense of familiarity to Rowena and Lumel who faced her.
It took them a while to recognize her.
“Elf…?”
At Lumel’s puzzled voice, the girl’s expression tightened.
Indeed, the girl didn’t appear to be an elf, yet she also did.
Dressed in a daring short-sleeve outfit revealing her waist, with white hair and pale eyes, confusion was inevitable.
Nevertheless, without bothering to correct them, the girl lifted her head.
She met the bewilderment and caution in the eyes of the two women staring at her.
They questioned her with their expressions:
Why had she suddenly killed the Voracious Eater?
It certainly felt abrupt.
But it was necessary.
She couldn’t afford to lose again.
Since she had already failed and rewound time, caution was unnecessary for her.
If Aslan arrived, her chances of victory would diminish.
So the girl removed her boots and stepped barefoot onto the ground.
Breathing out with the divine power of nature and creation surging within her, she blinked her eyes.
“Not twice.”
Holding the slackened flail, the girl assumed her stance.
[Ongoing Main Quest]
[! Defeat the hybrid elf Akei, the Voracious Eater]
The elf hybrid, who shouldn’t exist, picked up her weapon to survive.
