The Defense of Eclahim (1)
Crash!
A simple downward slash from above.
The floor of the hall crumbles like soft tofu under the monotonous line.
“Aaargh!”
Pikake narrowly dodged, thanks to a warning from his foresight.
But not completely. His left arm was severed from the shoulder.
“Why, why… how could this be…”
The rat-man’s face was a mask of shock. The sword’s tip traced another arc.
Once again, Pikake leapt away using his foresight. This time, instead of his waist, he lost everything below his thighs.
“How… how many landscapes can you possibly… You’re just a human, not a god…”
Lying on the cold stone floor, he muttered through blood-flecked lips.
Dalen looked down at him with an indifferent gaze before turning away. A headless beast collapsed with a thud before him.
Crack! Crunch! Snap!
As the dragon of flame and lightning tore into the beast’s corpse, Dalen stared at the body lying nearby.
[Corpse of the Betrayed Dark God’s Rider]
The end of a villain is always miserable, they say.
True to the saying, the face of the ashen corpse was twisted in agony.
Being devoured alive by a beast and dissolved in its stomach must be an indescribable torment.
”…”
It was a fitting end for a dark sorcerer who had burned countless villages and cities.
Yet, as Dalen looked upon this conclusion, a murky question lingered in his mind instead of satisfaction.
If I hadn’t played the game, what would have become of this villain who deserved to die?
Would he have descended from the snowy mountains to become the rider of the evil god Enaxagus?
Or would he have lived out his days as a hunter in a cabin, scraping by until the end of the world?
”…Tsk.”
Shaking off the unanswerable question, he reached out. There was work to be done.
[You have retrieved the corpse of the Betrayed Dark God’s Rider. You inherit its abilities.]
[Inheritance Reward: Strength +1, Magic +1, Soul Drain (B)]
After retrieving the corpse, Dalen unsummoned the dragon and turned his head.
As expected, Pikake was up to more nonsense.
“Enaxagus, I offer the souls of the three hundred I tortured and killed. Grant me your final power… Aaaah!”
The black crystal necklace he pulled from his chest vibrated ominously before shattering, imbuing the rat-man with a sinister power.
Whoosh!
A purple aura flickered from his severed left arm and legs.
Shadowy tendrils extended from the stumps, quickly forming new limbs.
The rat-man, who had been crawling on the floor moments ago, flipped into the air and stood up. He pulled out an old scroll from his chest and shouted.
“You, arrogant warrior! I may retreat now, but you won’t get a second chance!”
With his only intact right hand and the newly formed left hand of purple shadow, the rat-man gripped the scroll tightly, ready to tear it at any moment.
Judging by his words and actions, it was undoubtedly a teleportation scroll.
Creating a stable scroll for a notoriously high-failure spell must have required countless sacrifices to the evil god.
On the verge of losing a captured enemy, Dalen showed no sign of urgency.
Instead, he spoke and snapped his fingers twice.
“Se— Taros.”
A swift, low incantation.
With a simple trigger of snapping and clenching his fingers, the spell was cast.
The air in the hall, heated by the dragon’s residual warmth, suddenly cooled. Just as Pikake attempted to tear the scroll, he sensed the anomaly.
“Huh?”
His hand was gone.
One of the hands holding the scroll had vanished.
Next were his legs. Without support, his body crashed to the floor.
“Aaaargh!”
His severed thighs hit the ground with a wet thud, and his squeals of pain echoed through the hall as bone and muscle were crushed.
Dalen opened his clenched right hand slightly. A deep purple aura flickered in his palm.
It was the vitality and limbs obtained by sacrificing three hundred souls. The hellish power ground from souls.
”…So this is what it feels like.”
Though he had acquired the Hell’s Gate Key skill some time ago, this was his first time using dark magic properly.
He had only indirectly absorbed souls through a blood-red ceremonial dagger, bypassing the complex ritual to twist open the gates of hell.
Yet, as expected of a secret technique held by the Dark God’s rider, Soul Drain was no mere trick.
From B-rank skills onward, one enters the realm of the arcane. This ability was on a different level from ordinary dark magic.
The Soul Drain skill could freely steal not only the souls of living beings but also extracted souls and the hellish power derived from them.
Unless the opponent was a demon or a dark sorcerer of similar caliber, Dalen could crush them unilaterally.
“Whew.”
The hellish power writhing in his hand felt disturbingly alien and unpleasant.
Dalen frowned as he approached Pikake. Unpleasant or not, it was time to finish what he started.
“Ugh, ugh…”
Pikake, once again crawling on the floor, was crying tears of pain.
Dalen pulled a blood-red dagger from his subspace and infused it with the power gathered in his hand.
“Wait! You’re a dark sorcerer too…!”
“Se Glam.”
Crack—!
A rift opened in the air. A space where ominous power flickered.
Before the rat-man could utter another word, Dalen’s axe flew on its own and cleaved his head.
“Guh…!”
As the rat-man’s life ended, the elongated rift sucked in the soul escaping from his body.
Having sent a high-ranking member of the Dark Moon Order straight to hell, Dalen waved his hand to close the gate.
[Hell is vast. There are few places where even the dominion of the five gods does not reach. Since you sent him directly to hell, not even Enaxagus will find his soul.]
The spear murmured softly. Dalen silently caressed the dagger’s hilt.
The dagger hummed. Perhaps it enjoyed the taste of power, as it exuded a sinister aura.
The vibration seemed to tempt him to bring more souls and blood.
Dalen tossed the dagger back into his subspace with a dispassionate look. The demon inside shrieked as if struck unexpectedly.
[Ouch! That hurt!]
[His soul will slowly dissolve in eternal torment. A fitting end for one who gains power by sacrificing others’ souls.]
The spear’s voice was solemn. Dalen chuckled.
“Sacrificing others’ souls… Are you talking about me?”
[Of course not. You punished him without any cost to yourself. Power itself is not inherently evil. It is the intent of the wielder that can become malevolent.]
”…Is that so.”
[Indeed. Our dragons’ downfall was similar. Dragons were not akin to demons from the start. Had the Dragon God not chosen that path…]
The spear trailed off, its words vague. Dalen lost interest and moved on.
Even in death, Pikake’s corpse clutched the teleportation scroll tightly. Dalen carefully retrieved the scroll and searched the body.
He didn’t find much. A few assassination tools he couldn’t use, some money, and a handful of throwing knives.
Dalen gathered these items and placed them in his subspace along with the scroll. The scroll, in particular, had endless potential uses.
Though Dalen had inherited the ability to mimic spatial leaps from the Gray Knight, there were limitations.
He couldn’t bring others along, nor could he travel long distances.
Studying the scroll might reveal a way to overcome these limitations.
Moreover, it could help pinpoint the hidden lair of the Dark Moon Order embedded in the scroll.
‘There’s so much to do.’
Unresolved matters piled up like mountains, and the tasks kept increasing.
Dalen ignited a flame at his fingertips, incinerating the bodies of the monster and the assassin, and stepped out of the hall.
With this, he had retrieved all the corpses slumbering in this city.
Now it was time to prepare for war.
The spire of Eclahim Palace.
Dalen leaned against the railing, gazing down at the city streets below, absentmindedly stroking his chin.
From this vantage point, the entire capital lay spread out beneath him, a place hidden from the outside world by layers of enchantments and concealment spells.
It wasn’t just the strategic advantage of seeing beyond the city walls; the tower itself was imbued with magical functions.
Dalen’s presence here was only possible because Charina had granted him access.
“I heard you’re not fond of tea.”
At the familiar voice, Dalen turned to see Charina ascending the tower steps, a tray in her hands.
“Not interested in tea ceremonies, but I hear you have a particular fondness for coffee. A drink before a battle is special, isn’t it? So, I brought you some.”
“The royal special forces seem to be doing their homework. But is that even drinkable?”
“Surprisingly, you have a sense of humor. I didn’t expect that.”
”…I wasn’t joking.”
The tray Charina placed on the table was practically an ice sculpture.
Even the coffee and tea, which must have been steaming moments ago, had a thin layer of ice floating on top.
“Go on, drink. Fight cold with cold, as they say.”
“We have a similar saying back home, but I’m not exactly a fan of iced drinks.”
“Interesting. I heard you’re not from the north. Where’s that saying from?”
Charina’s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she tilted her teacup, letting the frozen liquid melt and flow smoothly into her mouth. Dalen watched the fascinating sight before turning his gaze back to the city walls.
“Did you take care of the shadows?”
“Thanks to you.”
“Good to hear. Since you’ve rid my city of its lurking shadows, I’ll add a bonus to your fee.”
More gold. Not a bad deal. Even on the brink of the world’s end, gold had its uses. The problem was finding the time to spend it.
“You must be wondering why I called you here with a battle looming. It’s nothing much. I just wanted to chat. We might not get another chance after this war.”
A small sigh. Charina set down her empty cup and slowly rolled up the sleeve of her white ceremonial robe.
“Centuries ago, the Well of Reversal prophesied through the Seer. This world is destined for a closed ending. But it will choose someone to break that fate by gathering the possibilities of countless timelines.”
”…”
“Some say that person will be a regressor bound to a repeating timeline, while others believe it will be a Seer who can foresee the timelines.”
Charina approached Dalen, the chill emanating from her palpable even from a distance.
A cold that would have caused frostbite severe enough to require amputation for an ordinary person.
Yet, even that chill couldn’t cool the dragon’s blood coursing beneath Dalen’s skin.
“I’ve been watching your movements for months, since the rumors of the Dragon Slayer began. Some might see you as just another hero of these troubled times, but your potential is far greater.”
“So you think I’m the one from the prophecy?”
“Yes. But I couldn’t be sure. The time was too short. That’s why I called you here. To be certain.”
”…Certainty.”
Dalen scratched his chin, watching the storm clouds gathering beyond the northern wall.
“Doesn’t seem like there’s much I can do to help.”