Cornil Ashuld.
He truly fought for his life.
He tried to use all the magic available at the most appropriate times.
With the single-minded intention of using all the mana he possessed, he unleashed spells.
Again and again, he cleaved through the dim, damp air of the warehouse, firing lightning bolts, but it only dawned on him that it wasn’t enough.
While sending countless spells like lightning arrows, lightning jewels, thunder, chain lightning, and spears of lightning to kill the formless ones,
“Kkkkuaaaa!”
One of the priests who had been holding the front line to buy him time lost an arm. A tentacle that flew in pierced straight through his shoulder joint, and before he could swing his flail with his other hand to drive it away, another tentacle pierced his forearm.
The priest spat out poison from his mouth, but the acidic venom only managed to catch one as another formless creature blocked it.
When two formless creatures simultaneously bent their tentacles in different directions, the priest’s arm was helplessly torn apart.
In the blink of an eye, having lost his arm, the priest swung his flail with a pale face and took down a few more.
“Niell, just hang on a little longer! I’m… right now…”
Cornil uttered such a clichéd phrase while gathering mana, forcibly stacking incantations and altering hand signs to unleash a bolt of lightning.
With a resounding “clang,” several formless creatures were pushed back or burned to death by the incoming lightning. But other tentacles quickly filled the void.
It didn’t take long for the priest to die. Niell died horribly. As the limbless priest screamed, the formless creatures lifted his corpse high and simultaneously drove their tentacles into his abdomen.
The superhuman without limbs writhed, vomiting a mixture of poison and blood, and eventually let out a pitiful scream as he turned into several chunks of meat.
Even such a vibrant priest became powerless and died. Watching the priest being torn apart by the group attack, Cornil Ashuld compulsively cast spells.
He fired thunderbolts and, amidst the chaos, used newly conceived ideas to launch wide-range lightning to push them back. In the fight for his life, Cornil Ashuld rapidly grew.
But even as he grew and pushed the enemies back, even more of them surged forward.
“Kkkkkuaaaaaaak!”
His resistance was shattered when he began gathering mana to unleash a lightning discharge against the closest formless creature. Just a strike from a flying tentacle shattered his arm.
Amidst the scattering of flesh across the floor, Cornil Ashuld, with tears in his eyes, allowed himself to be attacked a few more times. When spines that scraped his vertebrae shot out, piercing his legs, abdomen, and liver, he felt death approaching. He collapsed onto the ground.
“Kk… Kkkuuuu…”
The formless creatures picked up the fallen Cornil Ashuld and carried him somewhere.
Precisely to the center of the warehouse, towards a bone spike resembling a long tusk.
Without a shred of mercy or compassion, they impaled Cornil Ashuld on it.
“Wuuup, uuuu, uuuck, ggggrrr….”
As the spike pierced through his intestines, crushed his spine, and invaded his body, Cornil distorted his aristocratic middle-aged face and convulsively emptied his bowels.
As piles of excrement accumulated on the floor, the formless creatures tightly bound his limbs.
Life drifted away. Death drew near. Floating between life and death, Cornil experienced hallucinations akin to daydreams and felt something mixing with the prayers outside.
It was memories.
Countless unfamiliar memories to Cornil.
They were far too long, grandiose, and personal to belong to any one individual, yet they swirled chaotically in Cornil’s mind.
The pain of the brain being eaten alive. Within this agony, the entity that was Cornil Ashuld recognized something for the last time.
These memories, these hallucinations, were undoubtedly the memories of the formless ones.
Dozens, hundreds of towering spires shining brightly. A world where the sun never set, glowing beautifully even at night.
The moment he comprehended this, the spirit and flesh of Cornil Ashuld exhausted their final energy.
Cornil Ashuld died.
Only the priest of the formless ones remained in his place.
The fragment of consciousness that had been Cornil, drifting in the fading self-awareness, disappeared completely.
In its place, a pillar rose.
A pillar of flesh mixed with a minuscule amount of Cornil Ashuld.
Similarly, intestines extended like tentacles in all directions. Acting as conduits for nutrients, these tentacles devoured surrounding planks and corpses, nourishing the growing pillar.
The purpose of the pillar was clear.
To root itself and consume the core of Geladridion.
To engulf all of Geladridion.
For this purpose, the priests and followers were processed.
What remained was one thing alone.
The remnant consciousness within the flesh pillar whispered a name.
Aslan.
On the overturned land caused by the tentacles, Aslan observed the flesh pillar with a cold gaze.
There was an indescribable sense of ominousness emanating from the pillar. Aslan glanced around briefly; there was no sign of Angie or Ereta.
‘Still haven’t found it?’
He had asked Ereta and Angie to retrieve items prepared and provided by the duke. Thinking it wouldn’t take long, he expected them to return quickly, but it seemed they hadn’t found them yet.
‘I need to buy some time.’
At least without those items, he couldn’t complete his plan. Those items were necessary to ensure a 100% chance of success.
The moment he decided to buy time, Aslan was already charging in. Beyond the collapsed wall of the warehouse, a massive, wriggling mass emerged from the ground.
“Hheeeep…!”
Beside it appeared a formless one. It was at the forefront of the advancing horde, resembling a monstrous figure with enormous gums and giant teeth.
Though its appearance would make anyone recoil, not Aslan. He had seen far worse horrors. Charging in, he swung the double-handed axe he had rested on his shoulder with all his might.
Pwoosh!
The corpse split horizontally and splattered in two directions as Aslan redirected his momentum from the swing to wield his curved sword.
‘Physical enhancement should be used sparingly.’
Permanent strength increase: 1, wild physical enhancement magic increase: 1.
Total strength 3. Aslan’s slash cut cleanly through the head of the oncoming horde, splitting it in half and bringing it down.
Using the force from his sword swing, he spun in place, causing his axe to spray blood once more.
As a formless one lunged to engulf Aslan, its head was smashed, and behind it, a tentacle flew toward him. Aslan dropped to a knee mid-spin to dodge. A few strands of his hair fluttered.
‘Exceptional coordination. Are they under collective control?’
Glancing quickly, Aslan’s eyes caught something gleaming among the crowd.
It was a flail.
With four heads and coated in venom, it glinted a sickly green.
Having formulated a plan, Aslan swung his longsword low, splitting the legs of the approaching formless ones, causing them to stumble.
Instantly lowering their stance, the formless ones that launched the tentacles became visible. Instead of intestines, numerous snake-like tentacles wriggled in their place. Tracking the incoming tentacle with his eyes, Aslan leaned aside.
Puk!
“Ugh.”
His ear and cheek were torn. Despite the searing pain and the severed ear flying off, he paid it no heed. A minor wound compared to a critical injury.
Instead, Aslan reversed his curved sword and slammed it down on the tentacle.
Kwa-jik!
The seized tentacle tensed, and Aslan gripped his double-handed axe with both hands, hurling it.
Ee-jik!
The flying axe mercilessly bisected a formless one unable to retract its tentacle in time. The split creature rolled on the ground, oozing tentacles.
Taking advantage of the gap, Aslan drew his curved sword and dashed out.
Before more attacks from the formless ones could overwhelm him, he grabbed the flail from the ground.
“Huff…”
Exhaling deeply, Aslan lightly swung the flail, spinning his head. The four heads whirred, gaining momentum.
Pwoseok!
It was centrifugal force. With sufficient momentum built up, giving it direction caused the four metal orbs to spill death along their trajectory. Like a ferocious bear clawing with its paw, the formless ones met their end, their jaws pulverized from below.
Aslan tore his gaze away from the satisfying deaths, redirecting the flail before it could shatter his own head.
Death scattered immediately after.
The pristine white, sharp death and the emerald green violence surged forward, severing the heads, necks, and waists of the rushing formless ones, crushing them.
‘Time for them to arrive.’
There were too many. As the number of kills increased, Aslan sheathed his flail and curved sword. His remaining mana was slightly above half.
“Advance! Protect Cardi! We’ll slaughter the fleeing ones first!”
Abrupt commands rang out, and soldiers surged forward, their commanders becoming visible.
The soldiers, following their orders, pushed the formless ones back with spears and shields.
Regaining a bit of breathing room, Aslan wiped his cheek and ear.
The tear was deep enough that if it widened further, one could fit a finger into his mouth. His ear was entirely torn off, leaving only a trace.
That scorching pain informed Aslan of his existence. Lowering his hand that had been exploring the wound,
“Hey, Aslan! Aslaan!”
Just then, a calling voice reached him. Turning his head late, Aslan saw Angie and Ereta running toward him with a group of soldiers from where he had begun the massacre.
“What’s going on here? What’s that suddenly appearing thing over there? Are you okay? Damn, you’re bleeding. Wait a sec. I brought some herbs…”
“Calm down. It’s nothing serious.”
Attempting to calm the flustered Angie by extending his hand, Aslan watched her worryingly inspect his face upon seeing the blood-soaked hand.
“You say it’s not serious? You’ve got a wound on your face! And where did you sell your ear?”
“Maybe it fell off behind somewhere?”
“Ah, if we find it, can we reattach it?”
Whether attaching it would be hygienic or not aside, given how the soldiers joining the battlefield looked, it was more likely stuck to someone’s sole.
“I’m fine. My situation is more important than my ear right now.”
Situation. Upon hearing this word, Angie pressed for details on what exactly happened, and Ereta, seeming to have understood, narrowed her eyes and extended her hand.
Her fingers gently brushed Aslan’s face with a faintly sorrowful expression. Aslan allowed the gesture, focusing on his explanation.
“A priest of the formless ones has appeared. This thing in front of us is the priest, and it’s trying to extend roots. Although I can’t confirm exactly what it’s doing, it’s certain that if we leave it, it will cause problems for Cardi.”
Fortunately, it seemed that Ereta and Angie had retrieved all the items prepared by the duke. Seeing a bundle of scrolls and armor, Aslan nodded.
“But if we capture it now, we can end this entire situation.”
“So? Then let’s destroy it right now! What do I need to do?”
Unlike Angie, who confidently clenched her fists and raised them, Ereta quietly regarded Aslan after hearing his brief explanation.
Aslan accepted her silence and quietly met Ereta’s gaze.
After a brief moment of silence, once the soldiers had moved far enough away, she spoke.
“Are we going to fight?”
“Huh?”
“Are we not going to run away?”
Confused, Angie questioned her, and Ereta subtly glanced at Angie as she replied.
“Why are you running when we agreed to handle this?”
“Are you not running just because of that reason?”
Calmly speaking, Angie looked serious while Ereta continued.
“Does this have any relation to our mission of killing a deity?”
Aslan remained silent, and Angie, noticing his silence, seemed uneasy and shifted her eyes, seemingly failing to grasp the situation entirely.
“Neither do we know what kind of priest this is nor what powers it possesses. Even our objective…”
“It’s merely speculation. Should we really fight here? Wouldn’t it be better to gather more information before capturing it?”
Her smooth words made Angie, who had never imagined such a thought, stammer incoherently.
“Do you have any compelling reasons to waste time and lives here when you have a mission to kill a deity? This isn’t even our fight to begin with.”
Aslan opened and closed his eyes lightly upon hearing her words.
She was right.
Although Aslan had accelerated things, even without his prompting, this transformation into priesthood would have occurred sooner or later.
Sooner or later.
Rather, Aslan had already completed his task.
There was the short-term achievement of clearing a path for the soldiers to enter, but also the downside of giving them time to prepare.
Had he left it alone, the formless ones would have inflicted unavoidable damage on the city, leaving the soldiers no time to prepare. They would have been too busy blocking them to deal with the priest’s emergence.
Because Aslan acted, the situation was manageable before it worsened, and the duke was alerted to the situation, allowing the soldiers to prepare.
By that measure, Aslan’s role was already done, and there was nothing more to account for.
Thus, there was no need to risk his life unnecessarily. This wasn’t Aslan’s city; it was the city of these soldiers and the duke.
Ereta lightly remarked on this point.
“We were commissioned and promised compensation, but all we received were tools for extermination, right? We haven’t gained anything tangible yet. Are you particularly close to the duke? Is that why you readily accept such requests?”
“No, I’m not that close.”
“Then there’s even less reason to fight here. Unless you have some convincing justification?”
Her cheerful tone carried subtle psychological undertones, causing Aslan to chuckle faintly.
It was strangely mischievous since she already knew everything.
Only Angie, failing to understand, alternated her gaze between Ereta and Aslan, asking repeatedly, “What? What?”
Aslan took the bundle of scrolls Ereta offered, pulling out eight scrolls from within.
Adrenaline, acceleration, pain removal, equalization, fireball, lightning arrow, shadow manipulation, silence.
Various spells from different schools were contained in the scrolls, which Aslan categorized and either inscribed into tattoos or placed into his tool pouch.
While inscribing fireball, lightning arrow, shadow manipulation, and silence into his tattoos, Aslan said,
“There are three reasons.”
“Oh wow, three whole reasons.”
Already anticipating this response, Aslan smiled slightly.
“The first is that through this battle, both me and Angie can gain experience and grow. We’ll also acquire useful means for fighting against the gods, and Angie will become stronger directly.”
Avoiding terms like ‘experience points’ and ‘levels,’ Aslan obfuscated the explanation, but Ereta, having personally witnessed Angie’s strength as a high-ranking priestess, easily accepted it, nodding her head. Aslan directed his gaze toward her.
“The second is because I see this as an opportunity to explore information about the gods we will inevitably confront, under advantageous circumstances and with support.”
Almost no information exists about the formless ones throughout the entirety of Geladridion. Thus, Aslan considered this current moment, with supportive troops and supplies, as the best time for exploration.
“The third reason is somewhat trivial, though.”
Aslan began donning the breastplate Angie held, made of plate mail, with familiarity.
Discarding the old and worn leather breastplate he had been wearing, he positioned the new plate armor. During this process, Aslan continued speaking.
“Many people have died since the formless ones appeared in Cardi.”
Even those who were merely caught up in the events have died in large numbers.
Moreover, it wasn’t just that.
“There was a child who went insane after watching their mother transform into a formless one, and there was someone whose son became a formless one and killed the entire family, leaving them with nowhere to direct their grief and suffering.”
Having donned the plate armor, Aslan wrapped the leather armor he had discarded earlier over it. The thin leather monster skin breastplate, even layered over the plate armor, didn’t significantly restrict his movement despite the slight bulge in his chest.
Tapping his slightly protruding chest, Aslan chuckled bitterly.
“Considering all that… Could we really just stand by and do nothing?”
Ereta didn’t seem to fully understand, but she smiled as if finding it very interesting.
Having equipped the gathered items and prepared, Aslan retrieved his double-handed axe, which he had previously thrown, from among the corpses. He inserted the flail into his waistband and held the double-handed axe in his left hand.
The battlefield was chaotic. The soldiers, encouraged by Aslan’s efforts, were maintaining the battlefield, but there was no guarantee that this balance would last forever.
After all, priests were originally beings that humans could not oppose.
Aslan glanced at the soldiers and spoke.
“These people aren’t mine, nor is this fight mine… but they’re still human.”
Though he had created a favorable battlefield, people would still die. From that point onward, it was inevitable.
To minimize losses and reduce casualties, Aslan would have to exert himself.
“There are benefits, and it’s a battle I want to fight. There’s no reason to retreat.”
Speaking calmly, Ereta smiled as she felt the same emotion she had encountered in some unknown forest.
“Indeed, you’re an interesting person. Then, I…”
Ereta’s eyes sparkled with interest as she approached Aslan and embraced him from behind. Wrapping her arms around his chest, she lamented that she couldn’t feel anything due to the plate armor while pressing her face against Aslan’s back.
Despite the leather breastplate Aslan wore underneath, the scent of Aslan was still strong, mingled with the smell of blood, making it even more potent. After burying her face and taking a deep breath, Ereta finally let go.
“This is enough for me. I’ll fight alongside you.”
Even without any particular reason, she had intended to fight together anyway.
Her smile added a touch of mischief as she spoke, her pink eyes shimmering with gentle desire.
On the other hand, Angie watched Ereta’s intimate contact in surprise, her eyes widening.
After blinking for a while, Angie exclaimed in embarrassment.
“I was thinking of fighting even without such shameless compensation!”
No one commented on her statement, but her reaction suggested otherwise.
“Alright, thank you.”
Smiling faintly, Aslan spoke, causing Angie to scratch her cheek, embarrassed. Ereta silently raised her head and looked at the fleshy pillar-priest.
“What’s the plan?”
From the pillar, countless intestines coiled like tentacles and descended to the ground. The ground trembled with the weight, and a loud “boom” echoed. Soldiers who had ventured deep were hastily retreating.
Aslan said while observing the carpet-like spread of muscles and bones growing across the floor.
“I intend to figure it out now.”
His cold gaze returned to the pillar.
‘Did you bring me to this world, or not…? I’ll find out soon enough.’
At that moment, an indescribable sound resonated from the pillar.
It sounded like a roar, a scream, or perhaps the cry of a newborn infant.
Advancing through the ferocious scream, Aslan moved forward.
