Tentacle-like intestines burst through the ground and wriggled. Each time the intestines contracted, the earth swelled, and every time they greedily devoured mud to convert it into nutrients, the ground sank.
“Ughh!”
A soldier who missed his footing on the damp earth transformed into a handful of blood and scrap metal while emitting a final scream.
Aslan saw a flash of lightning amidst the dying breath and clicked his tongue.
The priests that had grown from Cornil Ashuld, the formless one’s priest, had basic means of attack: tentacles and followers.
They would spread their followers to lead the attack or swing tentacles to strike directly.
This was usually the case.
For some reason, however, the priests were capable of more than that.
Just like now.
Crackle!
“Khrrr!”
A single streak of root-like lightning. The soldier struck by the flashing thunder convulsed and died.
Their eyes burst from the high heat and voltage, blood gushed from every orifice. A wisp of steam rose from the fallen soldier.
Aslan looked in the direction the bolt had come from and reflexively swung his longsword.
Whack!
When the blade cut through a tube-like structure, Aslan lowered his gaze to scan the surroundings.
The damage among the soldiers was considerable.
Aslan and his traveling party, along with the soldiers, had only advanced toward the warehouse for a few minutes, yet the casualties were increasing.
The number of injured or dead soldiers was significant, delaying the advance.
This battlefield situation was completely unexpected.
Aslan moved while sweeping the area with a low downward glance.
Even though the battlefield wasn’t large, lightning and screams erupted everywhere.
‘The main body becoming a priest takes its techniques. It’s troublesome.’
Soldiers and commanders struck down by flying lightning were dying, and Aslan gritted his teeth at the sight.
He had to advance. To minimize troop losses, it was necessary. Aslan pressed forward amidst the dazzling electric currents.
Angie followed behind, wielding her six-foot staff and thrusting it toward the flashing streaks of lightning.
Pzzzzt!
“Ugh, it’s hot!”
Electricity doesn’t travel through wood. Angie’s cheap mostly wooden staff could be damaged without issue and could withstand the electrical discharge.
In this position, Angie alone could block the lightning. Whenever something spewing lightning leaped out from the walls, Angie thrust her six-foot staff in that direction.
“Asreta!”
“Yes~”
While Aslan cleared the way, Asreta provided cover. Her axe and mace spun in her hands and struck the approaching formless ones.
Thud!
First, the mace battered and shook the bodies.
Creak!
Then the axe followed, severing their necks. The headless followers ceased moving.
Weakened but instinctively finding the most effective way to use herself, Asreta aimed for vital points, exploited weaknesses, and slashed through openings.
Every time her precise techniques flashed quietly from her hands, the charging formless ones fell silent.
Blocked by Angie and guarded by Asreta, Aslan led the charge from the front.
‘Nine in number. No problem.’
Aslan counted the shapeless ones and tentacles emerging between the layers of walls and moved accordingly.
Swish!
He first swung his curved sword horizontally. One creature’s head flew off, and two others lost balance as their necks were torn. Aslan twisted the blade caught in the flesh.
Creak, Bang!
The severed head fell. Behind the headless shapeless one, a tentacle surged, and he struck it with his axe. When the axe hit, the bone encircling the tentacle shattered, scattering fragments.
‘Three, four, five.’
Aslan exhaled lightly and continued moving. Before the pushed-back tentacle could charge again, he swung his axe and then slashed with his sword. As the sword blade entangled the tentacle, he twisted it to sever while making a wide swing with his axe.
Two tentacles and a shapeless one were split by the axe’s trajectory. The human-shaped beings made of intestines and organs tumbled, split vertically and horizontally.
Aslan darted his eyes around amid the chaos.
Three tentacles remained. One was clearly enormous. Aslan tracked with his eyes the tentacle retreating as if waiting for an opportunity from the back and swung his weapon.
The gleaming sword blade and the heavy axe blade tore through the flesh with different sounds.
“Angie!”
“Alright, let’s go!”
Angie grinned savagely, raised her six-foot staff high, and brought it down. A tentacle that had inserted its head between those Aslan had cut was shattered by Angie’s downward strike.
Turning the attackers into a pile of meat, the group advanced without issues. With Aslan standing out on the battlefield, the burden began to concentrate on him.
The intensity of the attacks increased. Unlike before when they merely used their intestines like tentacles, the closer they got to the core, the more varied the tentacles became.
It was common for them to have bone shards armor-like, some swung giant bone fragments like blades, while others shot them like arrows or spears.
But it wasn’t beyond Aslan’s ability to handle. Burning mana to strengthen his body, emit shockwaves, and erect barriers, he deflected the projectiles with loud reverberations as he ran forward, with Angie and Asreta following behind.
“Huff!”
Aslan swept aside a charging tentacle with the back of his sword and crushed it with his great axe, dodging another approaching tentacle by sensing its intent. His already torn ear didn’t suffer further injury.
The deeper he went, the stronger the resistance grew. There was an emotion in the offense suggesting they didn’t want Aslan and his group to reach the core. Realizing this fact, they pressed forward.
The strategy was simple: Angie handled lightning countermeasures and heavy armor threats, while Asreta guarded Angie. Aslan broke through the center, clearing paths but also repelling any approaching enemies whenever the advance halted.
“Hmm… This human body is inconvenient.”
Asreta deeply realized her limitations within this role.
No matter how skilled a veteran she was, she was still just human.
Without the abilities of a priest, she lacked the stamina and endurance to fight all day and remain unscathed.
Unlike Aslan, whose fierce spirit allowed him to wield weapons even in this battle, or Angie, whose robust physique enabled her to move tirelessly, Asreta understood why she needed to gather all her resources as a veteran.
One veteran couldn’t fight equally against a priest. Gathering all veterans wasn’t a far-fetched condition but rather a minimal necessity. Realizing this fact, Asreta exhaled heavily with breath reaching her chin and swung her weapon.
As Asreta reached her physical limits, Aslan sliced through a massive wall of flesh blocking his view. Following the powerful downward strike of his sword, the wall split, and he pivoted, extending his leg.
That leg glowed faintly and emitted a thunderous sound.
‘Thunder Sound.’
Rumble, Zzzz!
Just as the two layers of walls rolled across the floor, something shot out rapidly from within.
It was both a counterattack and a tentacle.
An unexpected assault that caught Aslan off guard.
Seeing the tentacle suddenly shoot out, Aslan knew neither his reflexes could dodge nor block it.
The tentacle precisely targeted his skull, carrying immense force. Aslan realized if he didn’t deflect it, he would die. He had to deflect it forcibly.
But deflecting wasn’t enough. Aslan transferred his axe from his left hand to his right while letting go of the sword in his right. In his right hand, he already held a scroll.
He activated it without unfurling it.
‘Pain Removal.’
With the familiar incantation, the scroll burned, removing all pain from his body. Without hesitation, Aslan turned his body sideways.
Crush!
Holding the axe in his right hand and blocking the attack with his left arm, bones and flesh shattered instantly. Aslan twisted his breaking arm to deflect the trajectory.
The deflected attack soared upward.
Fortunately, free from pain, Aslan didn’t stop. Using the momentum from his breaking arm, he spun.
Sizzle!
During the spin, a massive tentacle grazed his left eye and jaw. Despite deflecting it, the sheer size overwhelmed him, crushing his left eye and tearing his lower jaw.
The already split wound on his left jaw widened. Torn flesh and skin fluttered.
BOOM!
When the deflected tentacle smashed an unintended spot, Aslan’s right hand moved.
Enhancing his skeleton and strength with wild magic, his heightened body allowed his mind to vividly recite the technique.
‘Mooncutting.’
The effect was an increase in range, applicable even to throwing due to ‘All Things Change’.
As Aslan spun, using the momentum of the tentacle’s force, he hurled his great axe. It cleaved through the air with an unexpectedly sharp whistling sound despite being thrown with one hand.
Crack!
When the great axe stopped after slicing through flesh, the remnants of the collapsed wall finally revealed what lay inside.
At the center of the warehouse, the place was covered in various filth.
Where once stood wooden walls, floors, and equipment, there now existed bulging walls of flesh interspersed with occasional bones.
The flesh walls breathed. They pulsated and shrank rhythmically, exhaling foul breath.
The exhaled breath seemed to ripple the air like steam, and Aslan drew a deep breath upon witnessing the scene.
Aslan thought to himself that this was certainly not the work of a mere priest.
Simultaneously, something came to mind. It was information forcefully extracted from the priest known as Niell.
He had said:
“The Twin Heads believed it could be easily dealt with by a couple of priests…”
A couple of priests. Aslan had assumed it meant ordinary priests with little difference. But it meant it required two priests because it was that strong.
Between the breathing walls of flesh, something squeezed out. It was a massive tentacle. Its thickness alone was comparable to an ancient tree, a colossal tentacle.
Its size, resembling intestines woven by some giant, shimmered with an unpleasant and ominous sensation just by looking at it.
As the tentacle emerged, heartbeats were heard.
Not Aslan’s, nor Asreta’s or Angie’s. Heartbeats echoed from beneath their feet.
Thump, thump, thump.
With each heartbeat, the tentacle twitched. Aslan looked at the great axe embedded in the pillar.
Once used by Asreta, it was arguably the most potent weapon Aslan possessed. Combined with full-body enhancement and mooncutting, it was the best attack he could currently muster.
The result wasn’t impressive. The great axe, pushed back in sync with the heartbeats, fell to the floor. It landed with a metallic clang, embedding itself in the fleshy ground.
New flesh had already sprouted where the great axe had been embedded, growing in rhythm with the heartbeats.
Heartbeats resounded. In sync with the “thump, thump, thump,” Aslan picked up his sword from the floor. The newly retrieved sword blazed white.
‘So, it has regeneration capabilities.’
Through intuition and experience, Aslan deduced the probable conclusion.
The pillar of flesh belonging to the formless one’s priest regenerates.
Instinctively derived conclusions extended beyond that. Though unseen, the root beneath this pillar of flesh must be the source of regeneration—the heart.
Intuition is the sixth sense. It weaves together all human senses and experiences to draw spontaneous conclusions.
This sixth sense urged Aslan to act. With his vision narrowed due to the loss of his left eye during the counterattack, Aslan stared blankly at the floor.
There was a hatch leading underground, complete with a rope ladder.
The heart is the weakness. Aslan was certain. No living creature without a heart exists. Even if it surpasses the norms of life, it cannot defy all fundamental principles.
If made of flesh and bone and containing flowing blood, it can be killed.
“A… Aslan… your eye… no, your arm…”
Feeling the dripping blood, Aslan stemmed the flow with wild magic. He forced the muscles to cease bleeding.
Though the bleeding stopped, dizziness set in due to the dwindling mana.
“Angie, Asreta.”
“…Yes.”
Startled, Angie couldn’t respond, so Asreta answered seriously. Through the harsh wind felt through his torn left jaw, Aslan spoke.
“The creature’s weakness is its heart. I’ll take care of the heart, so you two buy me time to descend underground.”
The tentacles still hadn’t charged. The pillars pulsed steadily.
“A… Aslan! Heal with magic! Your arm…”
“That’s my backup life.”
Angie urged him to heal his arm with Equalization, but Aslan refused.
Equalization was truly the last resort.
It was a means to revive from critical injuries—heart, brain, spine—just before fatal damage occurred.
Certainly, fighting with one arm and one eye would be difficult, but Aslan believed he should conserve it even more because of that.
A blow that could turn Aslan into minced meat with a single strike.
Misfortunes could happen, and Equalization needed to be saved until the very end.
“How will you fight without your left arm!”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
Aslan turned his head toward Angie.
To Angie and Asreta, Aslan’s face, half-covered in blood due to the completely torn left jaw and missing eye, came into view.
There was a gentle smile on the face of a man who always radiated confidence and had never failed in his plans. Aslan spoke softly.
“Please.”
Fighting a priest with one arm and one eye wasn’t normal thinking, but it was too late to stop or halt him.
They were already before the formless one. There was no time for exchanging opinions in the face of battle.
Angie clenched her teeth, her eyes brimming with tears, and said fiercely.
“Don’t die.”
“I won’t.”
With gritted teeth, Angie stepped forward. Gripping the six-foot staff in one hand, she pulled it back.
“Huuuuh…”
And threw it forward. With her monstrous strength, the staff flew like a spear and pierced through the pillar.
Bang!
The echoing explosion accompanied writhing tentacles. The tentacles wriggled about, targeting Angie. Amidst them, Angie spoke.
“Go!”
The tentacles surged forward. Watching the charging tentacles, Angie grabbed the mace from her waist, and Asreta, sending a sorrowful glance toward Aslan, ran forward.
Leaving behind the sounds of the woman and girl’s struggles, Aslan descended into the basement.
Sliding down the rope ladder into the basement, the space resembled less a storage basement and more the ventricle of a massive organism.
The sticky walls and floor were flesh-colored pink, and bones mixed in the squirming flesh appeared as if riding waves.
Aslan, descending, stared at the heart beneath the central pillar of flesh.
The heart, stretching thick veins in all directions, caused his stomach to churn with each pulse.
Rubbing his finger over his crushed eye socket to smear blood, Aslan brushed his forehead soaked with blood.
“The situation… isn’t good. I’ve lost an arm and bled a lot. Lost an eye, too, so my field of vision is narrower. Is my jaw torn apart?”
Through the shredded left jaw, he sensed a foul smell. Moving his tongue slightly, it was possible to extend it outside due to the completely torn cheek. Aslan closed his mouth.
‘Recalls the first time I used Equalization.’
The day he lost his lower jaw entirely and everything below his waist. Aslan used Equalization to survive and frequently relied on that magic afterward.
A feeling akin to returning to the starting point. Aslan gripped his sword.
Fighting a priest was originally such a thing.
Defeating a priest with a human body was almost impossible. Victory couldn’t be achieved merely by risking one’s life.
Only by treating life as a tool could one bring victory within reach. Thorough preparation, planning, and execution to utilize everything were essential to achieve victory.
That was what it meant to defeat quasi-deities or semi-divine beings.
Amidst endless hardships, one had to overcome impossibilities.
For twelve years, Aslan had continuously engaged in such battles. Doing it one more time wouldn’t make a difference.
His determination burned brightly even in clear disadvantage, proven by the sword blade glowing white.
As long as the will to fight remains, this blade will not break. Even if the world presses down.
Aslan envisioned victory amidst the burning desperation. Within the beats—”thump, thump, thump”—of the formless one’s heart, he outlined his triumph.
When the beats of the formless one and Aslan synchronized, his mind flashed.
His hand immediately moved to rummage through his tool pouch. What he pulled out were two scrolls.
“Adrenaline.”
Following the incantation, the scroll wedged between his index and middle fingers burned. Amidst the flames, the blood streaming from Aslan’s eyes stopped, and his vision sharpened. His heartbeat quickened, energizing his entire body.
“Acceleration.”
The world slowed down. Amidst the slowed world, the surge of power coursing through his body elevated his perception and physical abilities to another level.
Guguguk
Aslan, gripping his curved sword, exhaled gently and moved.
Simultaneously, the walls of flesh filling the ventricle shifted.
Numerous crimson protrusions stood upright, charging toward Aslan like arrows from all directions.
From every angle, malice surged toward Aslan.
Amidst the chaos, Aslan, with bloodshot eyes, quickly scanned his surroundings. Dozens in number, but no clusters. Aslan’s blade danced freely amidst the storm of malice.
Kagakagakagakang!
Dozens of sparks erupted above dozens of tentacles, and the swift swing of the curved sword created a pale sphere before retracting. Among the rebounding crimson malice, Aslan muttered quietly.
“I’m going.”
