Chapter 184: Sea of Blood (2)
Rumble…
The ancient spires, standing for centuries, screamed as they crumbled like sandcastles on a beach. Walls and pillars that had long held their ground collapsed, sending debris cascading to the earth below. Emergency spells activated, catching the falling wreckage like a meteor shower.
The emergency measures managed to push the fortress back into the sky, but that was all they could do. The collapse had already begun, and the sky fortress continued to disintegrate even as it ascended.
“Oh my God, please…” a nameless knight muttered, his face a mask of disbelief.
Dalen ignored the murmurs, spitting out blood mixed with saliva—not his own, but that of a demon he had just slain. With a snap of his fingers, holy flames ignited, consuming the demon’s bisected body.
“So, the archdemon was targeting this place all along. I’ll be back soon,” Dalen said.
“I’ll come with you,” Lucia insisted.
“You know you can’t,” Dalen replied calmly.
Lucia bit her lip, frustration evident. Dalen continued, unfazed.
“We’ve only taken down five demons so far. Even counting those the knights and the ones that died trying to breach the walls, it’s barely a dozen.”
”…”
“The Ironblood Army is holding the line for now, but if the demons start climbing the walls in earnest, that balance will shatter.”
There were skilled fighters on the walls, including transcendent beings like the Royal Mage Corps’ leader and the Ironblood Army’s cold-blooded commander. But battles and wars were different beasts, especially in a siege of this scale.
Even if the superhumans could decapitate three demons in an instant, if others attacked the opposite wall, it would be over. The enchanted walls couldn’t withstand demon attacks indefinitely, and once one side fell, the precarious balance would collapse.
The superhumans might survive the chaos, but most soldiers behind the walls, launching arrows and spears, wouldn’t be so lucky. The demons knew this, hiding among the monsters and constantly probing for weaknesses.
If not for the knights tracking and hunting these demons, the walls would have fallen long ago.
“The knights need you, Lucia. There are many who can fight demons, but only one who can track them.”
Finding demons hiding among tens of thousands of monsters was no easy task. Without the power of the Grey Path, even Dalen couldn’t have hunted them down so effectively. The archdemon infiltrating the Sky Fortress was undetectable until the fortress began to collapse.
Lucia’s unique ability to detect and track demons was invaluable. Without it, the knights would be blind, swinging swords in the dark.
Lucia sighed, understanding. “Come back safely.”
“I will,” Dalen nodded, turning without hesitation.
With a light push off the ground, his view soared. A few more strides, and he was level with the crumbling Sky Fortress. The open sky offered no obstacles, allowing him to accelerate unhindered.
Boom!
The air beneath him compressed to its limit and exploded, propelling him forward. In an instant, he crossed the battlefield and reached the fortress.
Crack!
He slashed with his holy sword, tearing through the fortress’s unstable barrier, and landed on one of the spires, pausing to catch his breath.
[The lost magic is swirling everywhere.]
The spear, silent since the battle began, finally spoke.
[The Sky Fortress, I thought, might have touched the ancient dragon’s aspirations, but it seems they used the opposite method. They simply amassed immense magic to keep this fortress afloat.]
“Don’t talk like a sorcerer,” Dalen retorted.
[It’s not a special spell, just sheer magical volume keeping it aloft. And now that magic is starting to run wild.]
Crackle!
As if agreeing with the spear, lightning storms raged unchecked, forming and exploding into various shapes, obliterating spires. Amidst the chaos, stones rose and fell at their own pace, resonating and canceling each other out, yet the total power continued to grow.
It was like a furnace with a broken corner, endlessly spewing fuel and flames.
‘Did the archdemon kill the tower’s master for this?’ Dalen wondered.
Even after hundreds of cycles, he had rarely set foot in the Sky Fortress Barshabak. But with his accumulated knowledge and the spear’s insights, he understood what was happening.
According to the spear, the fortress’s flight relied on a spell fueled by immense magic. Controlling such power required a high-ranking mage, at least a transcendent of the fifth rank, supported by dozens of mages with their own domains.
Barshabak was the most secretive of the six great towers, not just because it floated in the sky. Most of its mages, who should have been researching ancient spells and training new talent, were instead focused on the mundane task of keeping the tower aloft.
They had traded future potential for present prestige.
‘It’s the youngest of the great towers, after all. It earned its place solely because of the Sky Fortress.’
Even as he pondered, Dalen’s senses scanned the crumbling spires. The archdemon’s presence, once palpable, had vanished.
It hadn’t left the fortress; Dalen’s instincts warned him of a lurking threat among the flying debris and lightning.
”…”
His gaze fell on a distant spire, where a golden axe was embedded in the roof—a distraction he had thrown at the archdemon from kilometers away.
[Not a drop of blood on it,] the spear noted. Dalen nodded.
He hadn’t expected it to hit, only to draw the archdemon’s attention.
If it was the archdemon he knew, it wouldn’t be fazed by any weapon…
“The one who threw the axe,” came a chilling whisper from right behind him.
────Boom!
Before he could register the sound above, Dalen’s body reacted, raising his sword to block.
Boom!
Even with a perfect block, the force drove him through the spire’s roof, crashing through floors until he finally stopped. Looking up through the gaping hole, he saw a shadowy figure silhouetted against the fortress’s blue glow.
Crunch. Munch.
A reptilian head covered in scales, with vertical slit red eyes, stared down at him. The creature, drenched in blood and charred in places, was chewing on something.
[Found the corpse of an archer devoured by a dragonkin.]
[Found the corpse of a mercenary.]
[Found the corpse of a knight buried in the sea of blood.]
[Found the corpse of the heir to the red spell.]
As their eyes met, four notifications appeared, each marking an end. The dragonkin opened its mouth wide, tossing in the round object it held, and bit down.
Crunch!
Blood and brain matter splattered from its jaws. The red and white fragments made it easy to guess the object’s identity—likely one of the high-ranking mages trying to stabilize the collapsing fortress.
”…Taalmad,” Dalen muttered.
“Oh, you know me. My name isn’t exactly common knowledge among humans.”
The demon bared its sharp teeth at the name I had muttered without thinking.
Taalmad, a great demon scarcely known even among dark sorcerers, was a legend among demons.
The Betrayer of Dragonblood.
The Dragon Slayer.
There were countless titles whispered among demons, but the one that most accurately captured his essence was:
“The Grand Duke of the Sea of Corpses and Blood.”
A demon who tore through dozens of others, creating his own hell with countless corpses, be they mortal or beast.
Among the six grand dukes under Suum, he was reputed to be the strongest, a title well-earned.
Creak.
Dalen slowly rose from the rubble, checking the state of his holy sword.
Outwardly, it appeared intact, but his fingertips sensed the fine cracks spreading within.
The sword, which had never suffered a scratch before, was damaged for the first time in a single strike.
“Tsk.”
He clicked his tongue, storing the holy sword in a pocket dimension, along with the illusionary slayer at his waist and the steel dagger in his coat.
He even shed the newly forged armor from the royal forge of Charuk, leaving only a simple padded garment.
Facing an enemy, he discarded all his weapons and armor—a reckless act.
Taalmad watched this spectacle with a curious tilt of his head.
“Interesting. You know not just my name, but my power as well?”
“Who knows.”
“Otherwise, your actions make no sense.”
Dalen didn’t bother to respond. He merely loosened his shoulders and bounced lightly on his toes.
As expected, his body felt significantly lighter.
Even though he had long since grown accustomed to the weight of armor and weapons, the sense of liberation was palpable.
The dragonkin’s head straightened as he observed this, his crimson eyes gleaming.
“No, you know. You know I fight without weapons or armor. My fists and teeth are my weapons, my scales and bones my armor.”
The holy sword’s damage wasn’t simply due to Taalmad’s strength.
If that were the case, the sword would have started to wear down long ago, during battles with the Azure Dragon.
The true reason for the sword’s damage was Taalmad’s power.
A power that weakened the weapons of those who fought him, turning them into burdens.
This was the key factor that placed Taalmad at the top among the six grand dukes and the reason why four of my characters had perished against him.
Even the dark gods couldn’t nullify a great demon’s power, making Taalmad feel like an insurmountable mountain from beyond the monitor.
“And because I’ve fought this way, I’ve defeated all the grand dukes except my lord.”
Yet Dalen didn’t think he would lose.
Though Taalmad seemed like an insurmountable mountain, there was a strategy, albeit a rare one.
To seize one of those few strategies, Dalen had taken a long detour over the World’s Teeth Mountains, even after accepting Charina’s request.
He had endured the civil war of the high orcs, vanquishing both the demon-possessed chieftain and the demon’s true form, for no other reason.
“And the fact that you don’t seem to be backing down means you’ve prepared a weapon to face me.”
“Indeed.”
“Show me, then.”
The dragonkin bared his teeth, a growl of amusement rumbling from his throat.
Dalen took a deep breath. His opponent was a great demon. There was no room for hesitation.
He clenched his fist and stepped forward.
In his mind, he envisioned the sky and earth where he had once clashed with the gray specter.
Thud—
With the first step, concentric ripples began to spread.
Simultaneously, white tattoos he had never etched began to glow across his body.
His half-closed eyes gazed at the domain, focusing on the one terrain he hadn’t created himself in the snowy mountains.
Whoosh…
The wind sweeping across the land from the mountain peaks carried the essence of a warrior honed over decades.
Rumble…
The sky beyond his imagination, untouched by the storm clouds, bore the indomitable spirit of a hero who had once struck the dark god.
“I’ll leave it to you…”
He recalled the final voice.
A character he had moved with a few clicks from beyond the monitor.
The voice of a hero who had resisted to the end of a world.
Boom━━━━
The legacy of a distant timeline left a ripple in his heart, and the colorless waves spreading from beneath his feet were overlaid with shades of gray.
And as he opened his half-closed eyes,
“Domain Unleashed: The Gray Sky at the End.”
The half-ruined sky fortress was a complete ash-gray.