“Who are you? Can’t you tell?”
A woman’s voice shouted in anger. Though she attempted to disguise her voice as low, it was actually clear and feminine.
A voice that matched the appearance of a noblewoman. The woman, unaccustomed to shouting, had slight pitch instability in her yell due to the effort.
At first glance, it might seem ridiculous, but it wasn’t. Her distorted face filled with hatred lent depth to the tragic scene.
Naturally, Thor Mull was the protagonist of this tragedy. With eyes wide open in shock, he hung his head and kept vomiting blood.
“Aa… You should have… died…”
Interrupting himself, he lifted his head and spat out the blood filling his mouth. The blood splattered on the woman’s face, yet she didn’t flinch, maintaining her stance with the spear still lodged under her arm.
“Thud!”
Thor Mull was dying. No, he was already dead.
Aslan watched the precise spear thrust that pierced his heart and turned toward Thor Mull’s adjutant, ready to charge.
However, before he could move, a martial adept rushed forward, forcing Aslan to shift his center of gravity and retreat.
“Protect Lord Thor Mull!”
The martial adepts charged forward shouting. Seeing them approach, the woman wedged Thor Mull’s spear into her side and let go of her own spear.
Aslan quickly assessed the situation.
‘The traitor isn’t this woman; it’s Thor Mull.’
Upon making this judgment, he immediately sprang into action. Gripping his hammer tightly, he charged at the martial adept, swinging low to deflect the blade.
Clang!
The metallic sound rang out. Taking advantage of the adept’s lost footing, Aslan kicked his knee, causing him to slip and fall. The iron mass descended upon the fallen martial adept.
All these actions were completed within a single breath.
Crunch!
The sound of a crushed skull. The cracked armor leaked insect-like bodily fluids.
Having killed one instantly, Aslan shouted.
“Angie, Ereta! Stop them!”
Initially, the knight intended to intervene if the situation worsened, but they remained tied up outside. The clamor of steel and screams echoed beyond the tomb as Aslan clicked his tongue.
Angie nodded and charged toward the martial adepts, while Ereta swung her axe alongside her. The clash of metal and the sounds of flesh being torn reverberated loudly.
“Protect Lord Thor Mull and kill them all! Offer them all!”
Simultaneously, another projectile pierced through the wall.
BOOM!
Shards of rock flew as massive arrows surged forward. Recognizing their immense size—each as long as a halberd—Aslan immediately knew who had fired them.
When Tiamat’s arrows simultaneously impaled two martial adepts and hurled them aside, Aslan shouted.
“Hold on until reinforcements arrive from outside!”
BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!
More walls crumbled as arrows poured in indiscriminately. Amidst the chaos, Count Scherlukunde’s corpse was trampled into a lump of flesh as mercenaries and martial adepts flooded in.
As the squashed remains of Count Scherlukunde transformed into a pile of meat, Aslan clicked his tongue again.
‘Did they plan this from the start?’
Aslan could guess the situation. This entire event was undoubtedly the machinations of Baron Worpol.
Baron Worpol and Count Scherlukunde were age-old rivals. Such an alliance between them would never naturally form.
Just as Count Scherlukunde planned to ally with the Emperor for support to push back Baron Worpol, Baron Worpol had struck a deal with the Supreme Divinity to assassinate Count Scherlukunde.
This was the difficulty with priests.
Unlike gradual priestly transformations, direct divine intervention offered no prior warning.
Even more so, the Supreme Divinity could communicate directly. If the Supreme Divinity had reached out to Count Scherlukunde’s retainers or mercenaries, there would be no way to detect or stop it.
‘I’ve been dealt a blow.’
Just as Aslan had his advantages, so did the Supreme Divinity. Weak in power but cunning, weaker deities had their own ways.
As Aslan clenched his hammer in silent curses against the Supreme Divinity, the battlefield plunged into chaos once more.
Martial adepts leapt from all sides, and newly transformed mercenaries joined the fray. Tiamat’s arrows continued to pierce through the martial adepts as they broke through the walls.
Ereta’s axe shattered armor and weapons, dismembering the martial adepts faithfully. Angie, drenched in blood, used her body to block blades and killed enemies. Blood pooled on the floor.
Aslan moved actively amidst the chaos. Throwing daggers to aid Angie and Ereta, he swung his hammer to slay the martial adepts. As he steadily eliminated them, the tomb began to collapse.
Rumble…
A sound akin to the earth shaking. Cracks spread across the ceiling. Beneath it, the woman and Thor Mull faced each other.
Thor Mull, gradually transforming into an insect-like creature, and the woman gripping his white steel spear under her arm stared at each other.
“How… are you still alive…? I’m sure I burned everything.”
Stumbling over his words as he picked up the spear of a dead martial adept, Thor Mull revealed cold fury.
“I couldn’t rest in the afterlife, enraged by your deeds. So I crawled back from the underworld to return.”
Though not literally true, it was a statement fueled by hatred. Thor Mull extended his bloody lips and lunged with the spear.
Screaming, the woman gripped the spear firmly and intercepted the charging spearhead, locking it in place.
Screech!
Ignoring the chill running down her spine, the woman spun her body.
A clever rotation utilizing the opponent’s attack soon became an offensive strike.
Smash!
The spinning spear aimed for the neck. Thor Mull barely dodged, losing an arm in the process.
Instead of blood, insect-like bodily fluids spewed out as the armored limb tore apart.
With no means to defend or counterattack, Thor Mull was helpless.
“I am the vengeance of the land you trampled and the spear’s edge!”
The woman shouted the moment she saw the opening. Her voice carried both burning rage and icy malice.
A chilling technique unfolded amidst the intense emotions. Swinging the spear appeared simple at first glance, but it wasn’t.
After killing a martial adept, Aslan glanced up instinctively when the woman yelled. He observed the spear appearing from outside Thor Mull’s field of vision, mocking his attempt to block it with the spear shaft. The spear then retracted and aimed straight ahead—at Thor Mull’s neck.
Zzzziiip!
The elongated spearhead pierced through the neck.
Thor Mull staggered, spewing bodily fluids. Clutching the spear shaft with unwavering will, Thor Mull tried to pull it out, but—
Yank! The spearhead slipped sideways, leaving a gaping wound as Thor Mull clutched his neck in horror.
“Die!”
Zzzzip!
The shortsword surged forward again, slicing horizontally and severing the wrist. Driven by the strength of a noblewoman, it cleaved right through and decapitated Thor Mull.
His brown hair fluttered as the severed head rolled across the floor—a corpse frozen in shock.
Breathing heavily, the woman closed her eyes, as those who complete their vengeance often do.
Rumble!
But the battle wasn’t over.
Using the corpse’s kneeling motion as a signal, the floor began to crack.
Everyone froze at the sound, then boulders fell from the ceiling, crushing mercenaries. Angie shouted amid the splats and thuds.
“Damn it, we thought this place was solid! Aslan, we need to get out!”
Having scouted beforehand, Angie signaled Aslan, who nodded but involuntarily looked at the woman who had just killed Thor Mull.
The woman was looking up.
At the falling rocks from the ceiling. Large fragments capable of easily crushing humans. She didn’t move.
Instead, she closed her eyes upon seeing the rocks.
Her expression shifted from resignation to a bitter smile.
Aslan didn’t understand what was happening.
He didn’t know why she killed Thor Mull or her circumstances.
But the situation was clear.
The woman, having avenged herself, seemed to have no regrets and now accepted death willingly—as if devoid of hope.
Understanding the scene, Aslan closed his eyes.
‘Save.’
In a world either accelerated or slowed, Aslan thought rapidly.
Thor Mull, though lower priority, was still a veteran he intended to recruit. But Thor Mull was dead, even beginning to transform into an insect-like creature before his demise.
Moreover, he was no longer the master of spears. That title now belonged to the woman. The Supreme Divinity essentially acknowledged her superior skill compared to Thor Mull.
Her skill was undeniable.
So much so that it was perplexing how a noblewoman could possess such prowess.
But that could be examined later.
What mattered now was that the woman hadn’t colluded with any priests. In fact, the priests tried to stop her.
She was clearly an enemy of the Supreme Divinity.
Her relationship with deities likely remained clean.
Given her current skill, it was probable that it stemmed from talent, regardless of the exact details.
Could he truly let this woman die and search for the next master of spears?
Would that next master also remain untainted by priests?
His contemplation didn’t last long. Exiting the slowed world, Aslan opened his eyes and immediately charged forward.
Seeing his reflection, Aslan thought.
If saving her would benefit him and align with his intentions, there was no reason not to save her.
After all, Aslan had never let a life within his reach perish.
‘Call Thunder.’
Reinforcing his legs, he planted his feet and lowered his stance. The thunderous roar followed.
Grrrrr!
Accelerating, Aslan launched forward. His speed was so great it was hard to follow with the naked eye. The high-speed movement and thunderous noise drew everyone’s attention, including the armored woman.
Reflexively, she thrust her spear. The thrust was so deadly it defied reflexes.
An ordinary human would have been impaled instantly, but not Aslan.
For Aslan was a master of combat.
Swinging his hammer, he deflected the spear. Using the hammerhead to pin the spearhead, preventing it from flipping. Having done so, the woman’s eyes widened.
Aslan grabbed her waist and threw himself backward.
Kuuuung!
The boulder narrowly missed them. A large fragment of the ceiling crashed down, creating a hole through which rainwater dripped.
Between the falling raindrops, the cracks in the floor deepened. The heavy ceiling pieces made the cracked floor resemble a spider web.
Perhaps it served a similar purpose too—to catch whoever sat atop it.
There was no escape.
Realizing what was about to happen, Aslan shouted.
“Angie, take the people and go! Hurry!”
As Angie’s eyes widened and Ereta prepared to shout in shock, the cracks in the floor spread.
Grrrrr… Guuuuug!
It split and sank beneath them. The sudden acceleration caught Aslan off guard as he plummeted along with it.
Falling at a speed where raindrops became visible, Aslan tumbled down the deeply carved tomb, holding the woman in his arms.
Startled, the woman couldn’t push him away. They fell entwined together. The ground grew closer.
“Huhp!”
Aslan struck his hammer against a passing staircase. Using the rebound, he rotated his body, flipping to position Steamfalos’ wings towards the ground. Extending his legs upward and hiding his arms within his cloak,
Kaahaaaaaang!
he collided with the ground.
Despite Steamfalos’ shock-absorbing function, the impact was immense, spreading through his spine and throughout his body. Using mana to mitigate the force, his vision blurred momentarily.
Ka, ka gagagak!
Several feathers scattered, unable to withstand the impact.
Amidst the chaos, Aslan bounced off the ground and collided repeatedly, protecting the woman by forcibly pulling her close.
Chaaarrr.
Finally, after the last collision, Aslan released the woman in his arms and lost consciousness, feeling relief that they had survived the landing.
…Goooom…
Awakening to the distant rumble, Aslan found the collapsed surface blocking their path. In the pitch-black tomb devoid of light, Aslan blinked.
About 2 minutes by internal time. Relieved at the short duration, Aslan attempted to rise but stopped at a clear voice.
“Do not move!”
Turning his gaze, despite the dimness, he could see the woman.
A woman resembling a noblewoman, with gentle eyes forced into sharpness, held a shortsword to Aslan’s throat.
Aslan alternated his gaze between the sword and the woman. Her expression in the darkness was confused.
Their eyes met, and the woman trembled slightly at the tip of her sword, finding no hostility in Aslan’s gaze.
Glancing at the trembling sword tip, Aslan spoke.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
At the question, the trembling ceased, and the woman’s confusion deepened.
“No… I am not.”
Hearing her response, Aslan smiled gently, lowering his head to the ground. It wasn’t the expression of someone with a blade at their throat.
“Good.”
The woman bit her lip, watching Aslan. The emotions swirling in her eyes were chaotic.
“Why… Why did you save me?”
Blinking slowly, Aslan turned to look at the woman. The noblewoman-like figure could gauge Aslan’s condition.
‘Damaged and exhausted. No, the exhaustion is probably just an impression. The damage is real.’
Looking at the somehow sorrowful or weary-looking man, the woman gripped the sword with both hands to stop her trembling.
“I didn’t need to be saved. I… I killed your friend. I deceived you… pretended to harm you… to kill Thor Mull!”
The emphasis on Thor Mull’s name revealed her deep hatred.
Her hatred for Thor Mull was so strong that ironically, her hostility towards Aslan diminished significantly.
“You should have let me die. To avenge your friend…”
The woman’s words contained too much information, confused by the situation and her tumultuous emotions. Unintentionally revealing more than necessary.
Aslan silently observed her, the coolness in his emerald eyes prompting the woman to speak without realizing.
“I… have no reason to live anymore. I killed Thor Mull, so… now there’s nothing… nothing left…”
Stammering, her words filled with deep confusion. Listening to her, Aslan closed his eyes.
Watching the emerald eyes gradually disappear behind his eyelids, the woman panicked and lowered her posture to listen to Aslan’s heartbeat.
“!”
And in that lowered posture, when her wrist was grabbed by Aslan, she shrieked in a high-pitched voice.
Aslan had much to say in response.
That if he had known Thor Mull colluded with the priests, he would have killed him himself, thus harboring no regret.
But knowing what to say doesn’t guarantee saying the most necessary thing first.
The first thing that came to mind was rawer.
Grasping her wrist, Aslan said,
“You’re… too precious to die here…”
Their faces were close. The sorrowful-looking man’s casual remark froze the woman.
Aslan’s head wasn’t functioning properly due to the collision. Normally astute thoughts dulled from pain and repeated impacts.
Thus, he uttered words open to misinterpretation and faintly smiled. The rambling thoughts produced by his muddled state lacked coherence.
“Besides… does a person need a reason to save another?”
The woman took a sharp intake of breath at the words spoken by the nearby face, and Aslan felt her breathing as he closed his eyes.
Closing his eyes, he unintentionally drifted off to sleep.
As her wrist was released, the woman stepped back and looked at Aslan.
Watching the sleeping Aslan for a moment, the woman sheathed her sword.
