[Completed Main Quest]
[Repelled the Priest Who Attacked the Varmanz Mountain Kingdom]
[LEVEL UP]
[Aslan]
[Strength 2] [Agility ■] [Health ■]
[Mana 7] [Spirit 7] [Luck 10]
[Angela Tail]
[Strength 7] [Agility 7] [Health 10]
[Mana ■] [Spirit ■] [Luck ■]
Ignoring the floating message, Aslan saw a blow coming toward his head.
That blow carried immense power.
A strike that could easily crush a human skull and draw blood from any priest.
A blow that Aslan’s frail body couldn’t withstand. Aslan dodged it by falling backward. The punch tore through empty air.
Aslan avoided the attack and flipped his body low to the ground.
Planting his hand on the floor, he performed an upward kick while inverted, like doing a handstand.
The upside-down kick was an attack that even the usual Angie wouldn’t be able to react to.
Under normal circumstances.
Due to her increased agility and recognition speed, Angie could respond. Her golden eyes quickly locked onto Aslan and deflected the swinging punch.
Her spine bent grotesquely to redirect the force downward. The incoming death. Aslan’s head shatters from the punch.
Yet, no sound of “crack” was heard.
It wasn’t because Aslan had died, nor because his head had burst without making a sound.
Aslan watched his own impending death as if he were a third party.
Startled, Angie’s mouth gaped open, her eyes filled with fear.
Having failed to adapt to her newfound strength, she couldn’t control her power, leading to a disaster.
This would be Angie’s expected reaction. Aslan sighed briefly.
‘Teleport.’
Then time rewound.
The shattered head reassembled itself, Angie’s punch reversed, and Aslan stood up from where he had fallen, stepping back. Angie also stepped back. Aslan observed their retreat as though watching from a third-person perspective.
When the rewind ended, they clashed again. Aslan memorized the movements and manipulated his actions accordingly. If the results turned out poorly after several exchanges, Aslan rewound time again, repeating this process multiple times.
In Eternal Dominion, abilities are granted at certain stat thresholds.
Some activate automatically, while others require manual activation.
Whether active or passive, these abilities were incredibly powerful.
This was the ability gained when luck reached 10: foresight.
The pinnacle of luck, allowing observation of future events with variables.
Though in the game it merely adjusted all actions, this was its transformed version upon arriving in Geladridion.
While different from the game, it wasn’t an extraordinary situation. Aslan had anticipated changes of this level.
‘If anything, it’s far more useful.’
Aslan found foresight much more practical than in the game and felt satisfied as he tested it.
Moreover, all of this happened instantaneously within Aslan’s mind. There was almost no risk of being attacked during foresight.
The only drawback might be mental fatigue, but with high spirit, it was manageable for Aslan.
The rewinding movement stopped, and Aslan opened his eyes.
Chronologically, less than a second had passed since he closed his eyes. Angie, preparing for sparring, looked exactly the same as before.
In the blink of an eye, Aslan had determined life and death.
“Let’s start.”
“…Are you sure it’s okay? Honestly, I’m not very confident in my strength control…”
“It’s fine. Go full power.”
Despite her visible unease, Aslan quietly urged Angie forward. With a raised fist, Angie moved, and Aslan mirrored her action.
Angie’s ankle shifted. Aslan reacted to the movement.
Bang!
The first attack came from Angie. Aslan was no longer at a level where he could keep up with Angie’s agility. Both speed and power were vastly superior. All Aslan had were technique, luck, and foresight.
Aslan knew the future. He evaded the confirmed death point seen through foresight.
With a whooshing sound, the punch narrowly missed as Aslan leaned to the side. The extended punch carried monstrous power, lethal upon contact.
The key lay there. Angie lacked technique; it was purely raw power. Thus, avoiding the punches sufficiently reduced the impact.
Seeing the punch graze past his shoulder, Aslan tilted further and countered with an elbow strike.
Pow!
Angie’s head snapped back violently. The doubled attack power from impermanence and fully mastered combat skills made even this simple elbow strike effective against Angie.
The precise elbow struck her jaw, distorting her vision despite her high health. Angie’s gaze followed Aslan. Her heightened agility allowed her to do so despite her lack of technique.
Without missing a beat, Aslan moved. He jumped diagonally to create distance, spun around, and delivered a spinning back kick. The kick landed squarely on Angie’s jaw.
Crack!
Angie’s head shook, and her golden eyes widened in surprise.
Immediately after being hit by the elbow, Angie prepared to counterattack. As if knowing this, Aslan created distance, effectively blocking the attempt.
Adding another spinning back kick. Grabbing her leg was impossible due to the blurred vision caused by the elbow strike.
Angie’s body leaned heavily forward then stopped. In a low stance, she charged forward.
A thud sounded as Angie disappeared from Aslan’s view. Her move was a body ram, attempting to push Aslan back with brute force.
A move foresight had shown Aslan.
The moment Angie disappeared from his sight, Aslan leaped according to his pre-learned timing.
“Huh?”
He flipped in mid-air with feline grace, evading the body ram while grabbing Angie’s neck and throwing her.
Using his entire body weight, Aslan threw Angie to the ground and mounted her, grabbing her arm and pressing her wrist against her throat.
This was the advantage of foresight.
Combined with Aslan’s techniques, even normally unmanageable movements could be countered.
Wide-eyed, Angie replayed what had just happened in her mind.
Thrown off by the head shake, she instinctively chose the body ram and rushed in low.
But Aslan had seemingly known about the body ram, evaded it, and thrown her.
From this situation, Angie understood through her limited experience that there was no way out and reluctantly unclenched her fists.
“Finished.”
Aslan spoke softly. Only now did Angie emerge from her thoughts of defeat and look at Aslan.
Aslan was mounted on top of her.
Though it was technically a submission hold, the position left room for inappropriate thoughts.
Unconsciously, Angie’s face flushed red.
“Get off! Quickly!”
“Hm?”
Making grinding noises, Angie pushed Aslan away. Confused by her sudden blush, Aslan didn’t resist her pushing hands and stood up. Before Aslan could offer a hand to help her up, Angie quickly rose herself.
Her face was bright red.
The scene of being pinned down close sparked various imaginations in Angie’s mind. Unaware of these thoughts, Aslan appeared perplexed, but Phey seemed to have guessed Angie’s imagination after observing the sparring.
“You pervert!”
Phey giggled and said, covering her mouth. Blushing red, Angie covered her face with her hands.
“No, that’s not it! I didn’t think anything!”
“What kind of thoughts?”
Unable to grasp the situation, Aslan blinked and asked, causing Angie to groan and squeeze her eyes shut.
Only Angie’s heavy breathing filled the borrowed training ground as Aslan glanced between Phey and Angie before approaching her.
“Are you alright?”
Concerned about her heavy breathing, Aslan asked, prompting Angie to recall an event from a few days ago when she saw him approach.
Before recruiting Phey, Aslan had wiped the ichor from her body and face.
That scent of Aslan returned. Mixed with sweat, it smelled oddly pleasant.
Her heart raced uncontrollably, and her face turned red. Her ears felt hot, undoubtedly turning red as well.
Shaking uncontrollably, Angie took a step back.
“Aslan…?”
“Two.”
Upon hearing Aslan’s puzzled expression, Angie shouted.
“We’ll see!”
And she ran away. Aslan watched her retreating figure blankly.
Turning to Phey, she wore a faint smile.
That faint smile seemed directed beyond Aslan. When he noticed, Angie had returned with a red face.
She bit her lips tightly and clenched her fists, clearly embarrassed.
“…I don’t want to feel this way… I feel like dying from embarrassment… but we have a visitor.”
Sending a glance at Phey who chuckled, Angie turned around to reveal a man behind her.
He was a warrior. Name unknown, but he was Frida’s royal guard. He fought by throwing spears during the priest purge.
The man looked at Aslan and nodded.
“Veteran of battle, follow me.”
*
Following the warrior’s lead, Aslan headed towards the great hall. The same great hall where he first met Frida and conversed not long ago.
Not knowing why he was summoned, Aslan continued walking without guessing.
Sudden betrayal didn’t cross his mind since Frida had nothing to gain from it.
Still, it wouldn’t hurt to prepare. Closing the Steamfalos wings around his body, Aslan entered the great hall following the guide.
As the massive doors creaked open, the scene before him was slightly unexpected.
There stood Frida and Ereta.
Frida’s curved sword pointed at Ereta’s neck while Ereta stood still with her hands down, looking at Frida.
An obvious standoff. Frida asked through gritted teeth.
“Did you order this?”
Caught off guard by the abrupt question, Aslan couldn’t comprehend and remained silent with furrowed brows.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Why was Ereta threatened by Frida and why did she accept it so calmly?
Aslan couldn’t understand. The situation was too sudden to make any guesses.
Reading Aslan’s confusion, Frida glared at Ereta.
“This trash wants a mana tattoo. You really didn’t order it?”
Within the tribe, only select warriors received mana tattoos.
Rarely given to outsiders, and usually only to significant heroes after receiving substantial gold and silver.
‘Ereta should know better… Why would she do such a thing?’
Knowing well, Ereta’s request seemed odd. As Aslan looked at Ereta, she lowered her pink eyes, opening and closing her mouth several times.
Judging by her appearance, it seemed true that Ereta had requested a mana tattoo.
But why?
Unable to understand, Aslan interjected between Ereta and Frida.
Pushing the blade away with his winged cloak, Aslan earned a fiery glare from Frida.
“You defending that woman?”
Frida knew who Ereta was. The infamous High Priestess of Slaughter, whose cruelty was known throughout the Northern Continent.
Thus, neither Ereta nor Aslan contested the derogatory term.
Instead, Aslan silently glanced at Ereta.
Ereta, seeing his concerned gaze, bit her lips painfully.
That vivid worry troubled Ereta.
“What’s going on?”
Compelled by the question, Ereta answered hesitantly.
“…I wanted to be helpful.”
Speaking slowly, Ereta continued despite her hesitation.
“I’m not as helpful as Miss Phey or Miss Angie right now.”
Looking at Aslan anxiously, she paused.
“I’ve heard about and seen mana tattoos many times. So… I thought if I could enhance my strength through that, I’d definitely be able to contribute.”
Nervously brushing her arms, her gaze dropped to the ground, darkening like muddy soil.
Obsessive pursuit of usefulness. Aslan understood the situation.
Ereta must have been reflecting on the recent incident of burying the forest guardian’s deity.
Thinking about those events, Ereta probably feared she might be discarded once her usefulness ended.
Realizing her gloomy thoughts, Aslan showed an awkward expression.
Once comrades, they wouldn’t part so easily. It wasn’t that simple.
Especially since Aslan wasn’t someone who judged and acted solely based on utility.
However, Ereta didn’t know Aslan well and lacked understanding. Perhaps the idea that he might act maliciously motivated her.
Never having experienced kindness, she likely believed Aslan harbored ill intentions.
Understanding everything, Aslan looked at Ereta with a pitying expression.
Lifting her head unintentionally, Ereta saw Aslan’s expression, grabbed her collar desperately, and stammered before letting go. Her trembling hand fell limply.
Clearly reluctant, Ereta muttered unhappily.
“I’ve shown an ugly side. Sorry, Aslan.”
Fearful of rebuke from Aslan, her expression bore no resemblance to the former Saintess of Slaughter.
Instead, it was the face of a woman fearing abandonment by both her god and the man she deeply admired.
Seeing Ereta apologize for seeking help despite her inability to act on her own, Aslan’s expression changed.
It resembled looking at a stubbornly clinging puppy.
“…But she’s right. If Ereta gets a mana tattoo, it would be helpful.”
The question was whether Aslan could control Ereta sufficiently if she obtained the tattoo.
Control typically requires a significant power gap. Without it, Aslan couldn’t be sure if he could maintain control.
Aslan looked at Ereta, who stared back with deep desperation in her pink eyes. Their gazes met as Aslan deeply contemplated.
A former high priestess who would never reconnect with her deity or become a priestess again.
A skilled blunt weapon expert who could freely use her abilities for Aslan without burden.
Yet, a wicked woman who might cause trouble if not controlled.
Still, a companion who deeply appreciated Aslan’s virtues and understood and observed his actions.
His thoughts weren’t long. His reasoning was brief but clear.
Aslan deemed it a burden he could adequately bear.
He nodded and turned to Frida. Seeing his expression, Frida’s face darkened with displeasure.
She gestured with her chin as if daring him to speak and then said,
“Why should our tribe’s legacy be bestowed upon such dried-up trash?”
“There is a reason.”
Aslan’s immediate answer made Frida suddenly frown.
