Blue Jet (1)
“Edgar! Watch your side!”
A warrior, his sword and shield slick with green liquid, turned his head and shouted. The archer, who had been focused on his shot, snapped back to attention at the warning.
Ssshhk—!
Vines, like a serpent targeting its prey, slithered into the blind spot. The thorns, densely packed, glistened with venom.
The archer hastily drew his short sword, his secondary weapon, and swung, but the vine’s surface was as tough as a monster’s hide.
“Ugh!”
His waist was ensnared, and the thorns dug in mercilessly. The thumb-thick spikes injected venom deep into his organs.
“Ignel—Roth!”
The mage belatedly incinerated the thorny vines with a fire spell, but it was too late.
The archer lay dead, his body tinged a ghastly shade of purple.
“Damn it…!”
There was no time to mourn the loss of a comrade—or even his own impending death.
The waves of vines kept surging forward, and despite their relentless cutting and burning, nearly ten bodies had already fallen.
Their forces were by no means weak.
The term “unleashing” referred to drawing a part of a domain into reality, revealing it as if it were eroding the world.
Those gathered in the square were the archetypes of superhumans active across the continent at that very moment.
“Valdin! Behind me! Regroup in a defensive stance, then counterattack!”
“Light of Pawel, protect your people!”
The paladins raised their power with battle prayers, and the mages conjured wide barriers to shield their allies.
Shifting the focus from attack to defense, the front line quickly stabilized, allowing for a brief respite.
Archers and mages kept the enemy at bay, warriors concentrated on defense at the front, while paladins, priests, and shamans healed the wounded.
It was a perfect division of roles and seamless cooperation.
Even in the chaos of a battle involving dozens, there was no encroachment or undermining of each other’s domains.
It seemed like a scene honed through countless training and real battles, yet in reality, most of them had never even met.
The miracle was possible because all the diverse people in the square, regardless of gender or race, originated from a single consciousness.
And yet.
‘This won’t be easy.’
The expression of Everon, a blond youth positioned at the rear, grew increasingly grim as time passed.
Thirteen had died without a chance to intervene. Forty-four bodies remained.
They were holding on, but the real danger was just beginning.
Rumble…
The ground shook ominously. It wasn’t just because two unleashed domains were clashing.
Since they had breached the barrier, the surrounding area was already overrun with vines.
At first glance, it seemed like mere destruction, but knowing what lay buried beneath the earth here, he saw it differently.
‘The witch is searching for the Philoperen magic circle.’
Initially, the witch had claimed she didn’t intend to fight, and that wasn’t a lie.
Her goal was to dismantle the Philoperen magic circle, the source that powered the vertical farms of the western district.
The seer had said it stemmed from a grudge dating back a thousand years, between the city’s founder and the witch of the vines.
But at this moment, ancient grudges were irrelevant.
What mattered was that if they didn’t win this battle, Falcion’s self-sufficiency in food would be lost.
‘No, it won’t stop there. While Lapilem and Enaxagus might be satisfied with the labyrinth city facing difficulties, the witch has a greater purpose.’
What would happen if an ancient witch, who had wielded power a millennium ago, tampered with a magic circle as old as the city itself?
It wouldn’t simply end with a food supply crisis.
That’s why Everon had unleashed part of his domain from the start, projecting dozens of lives from across the land without hesitation.
And yet, it wasn’t enough.
On the surface, it seemed evenly matched, but in reality, the other side was at ease while they were barely holding on.
The fact that the witch’s barrier still enveloped the area was proof of that.
‘As the old hag said… it’s too much for me alone.’
It was an unavoidable choice.
Even with the city under attack, the transcendents of the Golden Palace were not entirely free from the constraints of ancient barriers.
All twenty-six transcendents might only act when the army of the evil god conquers the continent and completely surrounds the labyrinth city.
Being one of the weaker transcendents, he had taken on this task alone for that reason.
‘Damn, I thought there was a chance.’
The seer had prophesied that if he faced the witch head-on, even he, with his myriad of names, would die.
She had advised him to avoid the witch as much as possible and only deal with collateral damage.
Yet Everon had chosen a direct approach because he saw hope.
He knew that the one who had defied all her prophecies recently would join this battle.
But.
‘Dalen. Where on earth has that man gone in such a critical moment…’
Rumble.
His thoughts were interrupted by a warning from his instincts. And before he could even react—
Boom—!
The ground beneath him turned to ash and crumbled, as thick vines shot up toward the sky like the pillars of a temple.
[Hahaha! I’ve finally found it. Finally…!]
Beyond the dust that rose as a third of the square was destroyed, the witch’s maniacal laughter echoed.
Under a sky heavy with storm clouds, Dalen stood in the vast expanse, his eyes gleaming as he looked down at the city.
For a while now, some of the vines rooted in the area had been moving strangely.
Like finding an underground spring in a barren desert, they seemed to be absorbing something, pulsating as they did.
And with each pulse, he could feel the witch’s power growing stronger.
The grotesquely transformed vines were now sprouting eyes, teeth, massive jaws, and even pincers.
Along with that, a swirling ash storm began to spread from the center of the square.
‘Looks like she’s found the Philoperen magic circle.’
Though he had never seen it himself, its location was so secretive that he had only heard of it in lore.
A massive, permanent magic circle created by one of the founders of the labyrinth city, enabling the continent’s only vertical farm system to function.
A magic circle that had supported a city of millions and endured for over a thousand years—its power was unimaginable.
That’s why the witch of the vines appeared in every cycle with an event to attack the western district of Falcion.
In cycles where the attack wasn’t thwarted, the witch, having gained power close to that of a great demon, would overturn not only the bronze district but also the silver and gold districts.
[Hahaha! Philoperen, are you watching? This battle is my victory!]
The witch shouted from atop a living, moving giant tree, now a fortress of vines.
Dalen watched from the sky, then raised his holy sword.
[Are you ready?]
“Yes.”
The power of the true dragon that had concealed his presence was withdrawn, and from beyond the clouds, the faint sound of thunder echoed again.
Rumble…
The image he needed to conjure had been decided from the start.
He had only been observing the battle to decide how to use it.
[I will refrain from intervening as much as possible. A dragon’s body is drawn to a dragon’s soul. It would be troublesome if this heart of a true dragon, which I painstakingly acquired, became mine before it fully settled in your body.]
The voice of the spear, gentle as a kind master from the magic tower, spoke.
“That’s a shame. A bus that doesn’t require sharing experience points is always welcome.”
[Stop speaking nonsense and focus.]
A low chuckle resonated in his mind. Dalen smirked back and looked up at the sky.
Rumble…
The thunder drew closer. The resonance of the holy sword grew clearer.
Standing in the air, he half-closed his eyes and turned his gaze to the realm beyond his imagination.
A sheer, wind-swept snowy mountain.
A strange land where all sorts of phenomena swirled around a cabin, and a dragon lay its massive form on one side of the cliff.
As he lifted his gaze, he saw a sky stained crimson, raining fire and thunder.
He held the image in his mind, refining the direction of his imagination.
‘The essence of thunder is not its destructive power.’
Among the dozens of powers Dalen had acquired, in terms of sheer force, thunder wasn’t ranked very high.
In terms of range, it couldn’t compete with spells like ice crystals or crimson flames.
Though not yet fully mastered, in a direct comparison, his combined martial arts or the power of the spear were stronger.
Yet he still favored calling upon thunder when facing demons and monsters, due to its unique characteristic.
‘The power of severance.’
The ability to halt even the supernatural regeneration of demons.
When facing massive monsters like the corpse giant, it worked by breaking down and collapsing their structure.
Even when Dalen was much weaker, he could defeat demons because of this.
And now, the ability needed to face the witch, who far surpassed his current strength, was of the same kind.
“Hoo.”
He inhaled deeply.
Though it was empty air, he stood as firmly as ever.
The sacred sword, raised high in both hands, aligned perfectly with the rift in the sky caused by the clash of realms.
Rumble. Rumble…!
The distant thunder drew closer, echoing above. The sundered storm clouds, defying the chaos, began to merge once more.
Dark clouds, swollen and ominous, loomed overhead, while sparks of fire mingled with the torrential rain.
It was a scene one might expect to witness from the summit of a mystical snow-capped mountain, yet here it unfolded in the real sky.
[What in the world…!]
Below, the witch looked up in shock.
[As always, you never fail to surprise us. I’m still alive. I’ll seize the opportunity to join you.]
Dalon heard Everon’s faint telepathic message as he swung the sword down.
“Domain Unleashed: Sky of the Sealed Snow Mountain”
“Thunderous Deluge”
CRACK!
A colossal pillar of light descended from the heavens to the earth.
Not just one, but dozens of these pillars struck the ground simultaneously.
Boom, boom, boom—!
In an instant, the earth erupted and shattered, severing the vines that had taken root below.
Dalon had long observed from above, noting where the vines had intertwined with Philoperin’s magic circle.
The shattered vines, as they always did, attempted to regenerate and grow, but each strike of lightning sparked and thwarted their efforts.
[You insane barbarian!]
The witch, suddenly cut off from her external power, screamed in fury, reaching a small hand toward the sky.
Whoosh—
Vines surged upward like serpents swimming beneath a lake.
Instead of dodging the destructive onslaught, Dalon flipped his body as if dropping from the sky.
CRASH—
He kicked off the air, propelling himself toward the ground. He had no intention of dragging this out.
The inspiration drawn from the transcendents’ fierce battle, combined with the advice of his allies, allowed him to precariously open a part of the domain, the ‘Sky of the Sealed Snow Mountain.’
Even that was only possible with the sacred sword as a conduit, and he couldn’t maintain this state for long.
In a situation where speed was essential, the witch’s reckless assault was almost a blessing.
BOOM—!
Kicking through the air in rapid succession, he broke the sound barrier, merging with a bolt of lightning descending from the sky.