Eclahim of the Royal Road (2)
“You must be weary from your long journey, brave warriors.”
Phew. Charina let out a small sigh as she surveyed the group.
Watching the white mist escape her lips, Dalen thought to himself, Long journey? We came by sled.
Of course, even he knew better than to engage in idle banter with a sixth-tier mage, especially when she was using all her power to hold back the demon horde.
“Finally, all the forces we’ve been waiting for have gathered. Barshabak is expected to arrive in a few days, so it’s time to make a decision.”
“A decision, you say… Do you mean to let the demon army into our territory?”
“That’s right, Tower Master. I’ve been holding them off with the power of the Frost Throne for two weeks, but I can’t keep it up forever.”
Charina’s voice echoed across the vast snowy plain, yet her lips moved as if she were speaking to herself.
Her lips trembled with each pause, and her cheeks and forehead twitched in pain. Even for a sixth-tier mage capable of facing a great demon head-on, wielding the power of the Frost Throne was a significant burden.
If the previous Czars had been less capable, they wouldn’t have lasted an hour on the throne.
“The demon’s obsession with battle surpasses human imagination. But our Tsardom has no intention of bowing to a creature that underestimates mortals. We need to give it a taste of its own medicine, don’t you think?”
Charina forced a smile, her cheeks freezing over as she spoke.
Felber nodded and stepped back, as if confirming the resolve of the one at the heart of this war.
Then, Bjorn, who had been standing at the back, stepped forward. He spoke.
“Uh, well… I’m not sure what to say… How are you holding up?”
Gone was his usual boisterous voice, replaced by an uncharacteristically hesitant tone for a dwarf.
While the group exchanged puzzled glances, Charina raised an eyebrow in surprise.
She soon broke into a faint smile.
“I’m fine, great-grandfather. At least you acknowledge me. We thought you considered us nothing more than the result of a one-night fling, since you haven’t shown your face in over a hundred years…”
“No, no! That’s not it at all! No matter what others say, I was sincere! How could you think…”
“Ha, just kidding. Thanks to the blood you passed down, I’ve been able to protect this country. Without a knack for rune magic, I wouldn’t have been able to wield the Frost Throne, the legacy of the ancient dwarves, so effectively.”
Charina’s smile was full of mischief. Dalen stroked his chin out of habit. What? That dwarf is Charina Yoscov’s ancestor?
Dalen had heard rumors over many cycles that Charina’s lineage might include dwarf blood.
He’d even seen her use rune magic in some cycles, so it wasn’t entirely out of the question.
But he never imagined it would be the legendary one-eyed craftsman.
Who would suspect that a mad dwarf who throws bombs into the demon’s maw would be connected to noble blood?
‘So that’s how he managed to steal the gunpowder technology secretly developed by the Empire and the Tsardom…’
Now that he thought about it, Charina had mentioned the Kaladrakum dynasty when talking about Bjorn.
As the game progressed, the hidden backstory of the one-eyed craftsman, shrouded in mystery, was gradually being revealed.
Glancing at the group’s expressions, Dalen saw that, except for Felber, they were all visibly shocked.
Charina continued, her breath visible in the cold air.
“Starting today, I’ll gradually weaken the power of the Frost Throne. The demon army will reach us in about a week. Rest and make your final preparations.”
With that, she turned her gaze forward again.
Her face began to freeze over, and the throne’s silhouette grew faint beyond the thickening snow.
Dalen left the hall with the group.
Just before he was the last to exit, Charina’s voice echoed softly in his mind.
[And Dalen, be careful. A shadow is lurking in this city, targeting you.]
That night.
After settling into an empty room in the palace with the group, Dalen slipped out alone into the night.
He chose deserted streets, heading toward the northern outskirts of the city.
More precisely, beyond the outskirts, to a narrow alley where the city wall loomed overhead.
Tap—
With a light step, he kicked off the ground.
Bounding off walls and rooftops, he leapt through the air until his eyes were level with the battlements.
If he continued flying around, he might catch the attention of some sharp-eyed guards. Deciding it was best to avoid that, Dalen concealed himself in the shadows.
「Return to the Abyss」
A faint, ashen mist scattered in the darkness.
Even the sound and movement of magic were barely perceptible.
Leaping through the gaps in space, Dalen reached the top of a spire, easily maintaining his balance on the steep roof as he gazed out over the city.
Ssssss…
His eyes glowed with magical light.
His senses were heightened to their limits with magic.
The darkness of night couldn’t obscure his vision, but he sought more than just piercing the shadows.
‘Ackerman’s Construction Method.’
A power that could map the entire fourth floor of the labyrinth, where measuring distance was impossible.
He combined this power with his vision that transcended the realm of imagination, crafting a new unique skill.
「Dream Pursuit」
A skill based on the ability to see through even the Dream King’s palace, allowing him to track targets seen only in dreams and imagination.
In some ways, it was similar to the Seeker’s Left Arm Fragment. However, it couldn’t match the Seeker’s vast search area that spanned the entire continent.
Yet, in its ability to find targets not present in his body’s memory, it surpassed the Seeker’s Left Arm Fragment.
The memories inherited from the Ashen Warrior.
Using one of those memories as a trigger, he activated his newly acquired unique skill.
Whoosh—!
Magic rapidly drained as his field of vision expanded.
The physical barrier of the horizon shattered effortlessly.
The scope of his vision expanded northward, far beyond the horizon.
At its edge, he caught sight of a massive frost storm.
Whirl─────
Even with the Frost Throne’s power being weakened, it was still this formidable.
The powerful spell that froze entire regions in space was far more intimidating than it appeared on a monitor.
The magic of the Frost Throne, capable of halting even a demon army.
「Eye of the Phantom」
With a gaze that pierced through illusion and mystery, he delved inside to examine its contents.
Crack. Creak…
What filled his vision were tens of thousands of frozen monsters and an even larger horde of corrupted barbarians.
Perhaps because the Frost Throne’s power was being gradually loosened.
On the frozen ground where space itself was frozen, the stronger monsters were attempting to move, albeit slowly.
Creeeak…
Next, he saw dozens of frozen demons.
Demons, with their power on a completely different level from monsters, were taking clear steps, albeit one every few minutes.
[What are you trying to see?]
Perhaps puzzled by this midnight escapade, the voice of the Spear of the Abyss asked lazily from beyond the mental cliff.
Dalen didn’t answer. Even for him, peering over a hundred kilometers away required significant focus and strength.
”…”
He pushed further, beyond the endless horde of demons and monsters, toward the rear of the army.
The Spear’s question was valid, and in some ways, it hit the mark.
The reason for pouring magic into peering beyond the horizon wasn’t simply to witness the Frost Throne’s storm holding back the demon army.
He already knew that dozens of demons were advancing and that the Frost Throne’s power was holding them back.
[What are you up to… now, don’t tell me…]
Finally realizing Dalen’s intent, the Spear raised its head in surprise from beyond the mental realm.
Ssssss.
At last, a figure caught at the edge of his vision slowly raised its head, as if aware of Dalen’s gaze.
[Heh─]
It laughed.
He couldn’t see it clearly.
Its body was a vague, dark red, as if a child had haphazardly painted over it.
The only distinct feature was its eyes, flickering with the color of blood droplets.
Though its form was hard to discern, recognizing it was not difficult.
The memories left by the Ashen Warrior.
The target Dalen had sought with his unique skill, Dream Pursuit, was the one who marked the end of those memories.
The evil god, Suum.
[So you’re the one who killed Kalkas and Ztanc. I was curious, but it turns out you’re even more talented than I thought.]
The figure spoke, their voice tinged with a clear hint of amusement.
Despite being the only one able to move in the frozen space, they didn’t stray beyond their bounds.
It was as if the fate of the demon army or their master’s invasion plans were of no concern to them.
Instead, a faint excitement, like a ripple on a calm surface, suggested they were simply waiting for something entertaining.
“I’ve heard the Well of Destiny foretold your coming… I hope you pass my test. If you survive the battle, head north.”
Their eyes slowly curved into a smile.
A red flicker met Dalen’s gaze, stretching beyond the horizon.
“See you then,” the figure said.
Whoosh—!
Dalen’s vision blurred in an instant.
It was like a rubber band snapping back after being stretched to its limit, the world shrinking rapidly.
The sudden shift left Dalen’s mind reeling, and he closed his eyes for a moment.
His stomach churned as if he were seasick. It was the first time he’d felt such a sensation since transcending human limitations.
“This is unexpected. Suum has descended upon the continent,” muttered his companion, disbelief in their voice.
“Even sacrificing much of their power to force the descent. The five demon gods are always at each other’s throats.”
”…”
“Even for a battle-crazed being, such a decision is unthinkable without being ready to lose everything.”
“Why are you overthinking it?” Dalen chuckled, slowly opening his eyes.
His vision was still a bit dizzy. Rubbing his eyes gently seemed to help.
“If they’ve descended, they’ve descended. If they want to fight despite the odds, that’s their choice, right?”
”…”
“Maybe it’s because you’re so old, but you seem to worry about the strangest things.”
His companion didn’t respond. A subtle silence hung over the cliff. Dalen laughed softly, shaking his head.
He understood, though.
The True Dragon, a being powerful enough to rival demons, and among them, his companion was one of the strongest. Yet, even they couldn’t compare to the might of the demon gods ruling the five hells.
‘They probably know the gap all too well. After all, even the Dragon God is one of the demon gods, and they’ve clashed with Suum for ages.’
Still, Dalen could brush it off lightly because he had glimpsed a future even his companion hadn’t reached.
Hundreds of cycles against the apocalypse.
Thousands of hours condensed into a journey beyond the monitor.
In countless repeated plays, Dalen had managed to sever a demon god’s head more than once.
That’s why he was certain.
‘This is an opportunity.’
Even if it was a weakened avatar, it was a chance to take down one of the demon gods.
Weakening their forces would give the northern front some breathing room.
As the end approached, the relentless onslaught from all sides meant that any front with extra resources would be a significant advantage.
The unstable future constantly twists and changes.
But that’s why one must plan while looking far ahead.
Of course, executing the immediate battle plan was crucial too.
With his dizziness completely gone, Dalen leapt lightly from the spire’s roof.
“Did you know that commenting on age is considered rude to any female, regardless of species?”
”…What?”
For the first time since mastering his balance, he nearly stumbled in mid-air.
“What kind of reaction is that? Are you claiming ignorance of basic manners, despite your silver tongue?”
“No, it’s just…”
“Ha, so you can’t believe I’m female, is that it?”
Well, it wasn’t that he couldn’t believe it, just that he hadn’t expected it.
”…”
More than anything, he couldn’t believe that the silence had been due to that comment.
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