The King of the Palace of Ruin (2)
[Laughing maniacally.]
A laugh steeped in madness.
For the first time since he had arrived in this world, Dalen felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
‘I can’t win.’
Dozens of possibilities gathered from across the continent. Yet, even combined, they weren’t enough to secure victory.
Even at the fifth rank, he couldn’t clearly see the figure before him. Most of the soldiers on the wall probably couldn’t even perceive the distortion.
[Hmm? What’s wrong? Why hesitate? Show me those fun flames again, or maybe some lightning?]
The voice, tinged with excitement, continued. Sparks and flames danced over the distorted figure, tearing at the fabric of space.
When Dalen didn’t respond, the creature’s eyes narrowed. The voice spoke again.
[Well… I guess there’s no choice.]
The two eyes, rolling around, fixed on a spot just beyond Dalen’s shoulder. Where Lucia and Felber stood.
[If you can’t do it, I’ll make you. Humans grow stronger when something precious to them is broken. So…]
[That’s enough.]
A sharp voice cut through the battlefield.
It was Charina’s voice.
Clang—
From high above, the sound of something shattering echoed.
Without warning, a blizzard swept through the area.
As the sensation of space warping from the extreme cold passed, a battalion of nearly a hundred sorcerers suddenly appeared.
Standing between Dalen and the malevolent god, they were the elite of the royal mage corps, led by Charina.
“You’ve shown yourself, King of the Palace of Ruin.”
Charina spoke from the front of the mages. In her outstretched hand was a white scepter, as if carved from ice and snow. The power emanating from it rivaled the authority of the Frost Throne.
The mages arrayed behind her were formidable in their own right, each one a high-ranking sorcerer capable of independent spell research.
Among them, three stood out with a distinct presence, likely grand magicians who had surpassed the fifth rank and commanded the mage battalion.
[Hmm…]
A hundred at the fourth rank, three at the fifth, and sorcerers at the sixth rank.
A force capable of vanquishing even a great demon if they set their minds to it.
Yet, the creature seemed uninterested in such facts.
Its form twisted, as if scratching its head or stroking its chin.
[This isn’t fun. I didn’t come here to fight you.]
It spoke in a slightly petulant voice.
[So just die.]
A twitch.
On the distorted face, a new red line stretched long.
It didn’t take long to realize it was a mouth, torn wide open.
The creature lifted a leg and stepped forward.
With just that—
Rumble━━━━
The world was torn asunder.
The indescribable rupture was visible to the eyes rather than heard by the ears.
Above the ruins of the fallen sky fortress, the space shattered in a fan shape with each step.
“Staria… Gah!”
“Aaah!”
Nearly half of the fourth-rank mages, who had been swiftly casting spells at the front, were sent flying, blood spraying.
Some managed to hastily raise protective spells, but many were torn apart before they had the chance.
[Stand back.]
It was Charina who blocked the fan-shaped destruction.
Under her white robes, runes densely inscribed on her arms flared to life.
[Efel.]
[Kasta.]
[Staria.]
As she chanted the overlapping incantations and extended her arm, the space before the scepter began to freeze solid.
Crack—!!
“Dalen, I told you. I trust you with my fate.”
As the world shattered, froze, and exploded, Charina turned to Dalen amidst the transcendent clash of willpower overlaying reality.
“I’ll buy you time. Recover your strength or find another way.”
”…”
“The fate of the Tsar Kingdom rests in your hands.”
Without waiting for a response, her form blurred.
Beyond merely forcing open the seams of space, she wielded her authority to perfectly manipulate space and the world.
Simultaneously, the creature’s form vanished, and red and blue energies spiraled upward from the ground to the sky.
Cold and frost collided and exploded. Within the icy winds, fire and lightning scattered and swirled.
Dozens of royal mages resonated their spells to barely mitigate the aftermath, while the three fifth-rank sorcerers seized opportunities to support Charina.
Boom…
With a thunderclap, the sky distorted. The spiral, now soaring into the heavens, clashed with the storm clouds and the frozen sky.
[What do you plan to do?]
The spear asked. Dalen slowly lowered his gaze from the sky.
He had only defeated the creature once, but he had studied its weaknesses more thoroughly than anyone.
‘The core powers of the creature are twofold.’
The hellfire that endlessly surged from the Palace of Ruin. And the unpredictable violence represented by the red lightning.
The two archdemons closest to the creature, each possessing immense resistance to lightning and fire, were not by chance.
Without such resistance, standing by the creature’s side would be impossible.
The problem was that, given the creature’s nature as a duelist madly obsessed with combat, the most straightforward strategy was to confront it head-on with the same attributes.
‘The Great Flame or Azure Lightning would be suitable, but… that alone won’t defeat it. The spear’s black flame might at least counter the hellfire.’
But even then, it would only counter one of the creature’s powers.
The red lightning would still crush both body and soul.
[Run. With Charina buying time, you can escape. I’ll use my power to help you, so retreat and wait for another chance.]
The spear spoke with an uncharacteristically trembling voice. A proposal thick with worry and fear.
In the face of overwhelming violence, the offer was tempting, to say the least.
But Dalen, his gaze fixed, slowly shook his head.
“I can’t do that.”
[Why not? The creature is not in its right mind. It has degraded itself to set foot on this land. It might burn half the continent, but it won’t surpass the labyrinth city…]
“Spear. What remains if I survive like that?”
[…]
No answer came. Dalen chuckled softly.
“Everyone fears death. It’s so easy to run from it.”
He drew a sword and hand axe from the subspace, gripping them in each hand.
He slowly moved toward the bisected demon’s corpse.
“But the value of being alive isn’t just in my lungs breathing and my heart beating.”
Those who have lost can understand.
The greasy taste of pizza and chicken spreading in the mouth. The tang of soda tickling the throat.
The pointless conversations shared while eating unhealthy food under the air conditioner. The warmth of a heated floor and the buzz of alcohol.
Those were the moments that lingered in memory.
Footprints that couldn’t be made alone. The true treasures hidden under the guise of everyday life.
“Once you retreat, you’ll retreat again. The first time is hard, but from the second, it’s easy.”
[…]
“Even if you survive by retreating and retreating, what remains if you survive alone in a world turned to hell?”
In one of the cycles where he had grasped the seat of transcendence.
Desperate for a clear after hundreds of failures, Dalen had once survived beyond the world’s end by any means necessary.
A world where everything burned, crumbled, and rotted. A living hell where the dead howled and the screams of lost souls echoed endlessly.
He survived to see the end, but no ending credits rolled. In the emptiness, he deleted his character and quit the game. He didn’t touch the game he played daily for nearly a month.
If the emptiness felt through a monitor was that profound, what would it be like to experience it for real?
Having already lost his everyday life once, Dalen thought he could understand that feeling.
“I’ve already lost once. I can’t lose again.”
And so, he resolved not to lose again.
The stark difference between before and after he fell into this world wasn’t just his body, impervious to blades.
Simply being alive and breathing wasn’t enough to fulfill life.
Knowing this, Dalen could reach out without retreating.
“So help me.”
[…To face the creature?]
“No.”
Corpse retrieval. Dalen murmured quietly to himself.
The ashen corpse dissolved into a stream of light, flowing into his fingertips like water.
[The body of the great mage, summoned by the Sky Fortress, has been retrieved. Abilities will be inherited.]
[Inheritance Reward: ]
A sudden rush of fulfillment filled him, yet it was an incomplete sensation.
“Now, I have to fight the one who killed Suum.”
With that unfinished notification, Dalen closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, he found himself standing on a snowy mountain.
The wind howled fiercely, accompanied by a blizzard.
Beyond the sheer cliffs, snow-capped peaks stretched into the distance.
It was a breathtaking scene, one that could easily overwhelm anyone with the majesty of nature. But for Dalen, who had just come from the battlefield of transcendents, it felt surprisingly serene.
The old, weathered cabin on the snowy mountain was unchanged. Even the backyard and the hunter’s tools were as they had been.
The only difference from the last time he awoke here was one thing.
”…Has the time come?”
In the backyard stood not the giant man he remembered, but a robed mage.
“It’s been a long time since I was here. A place full of memories. The starting point of my recollections.”
Just as the gray-clad warrior had done, the robed man examined each element of the backyard. He scratched his chin, a habit they shared, though that was where the similarities ended.
Unlike the towering gray warrior, the robed man barely reached Dalen’s shoulder.
His thin face and blue eyes were the quintessential image of a mage. As he surveyed the cabin, he turned his head.
“So, you’re the one the Well of Destiny foretold.”
His voice was slightly raspy. Dalen silently fiddled with his belt.
His axe was securely in place, and this time, the holy sword was by his side as well.
“Fifth rank. But your presence is vast, beyond what mere rank can define. You’ve met someone who has already broken through the wall, haven’t you?”
”…”
“Then you know the condition. Defeat me. Show me a power greater than the despair that once brought me to my knees, and take everything from me.”
The man spread his arms wide, like an actor on stage. The wind from the mountain valley whipped his robe and long hair.
Watching this theatrical display, Dalen slowly gripped the handle of his axe. His body felt good.
In reality, his physical form was at its limit, but here, in the realm beyond the mind, it was different.
As Dalen adjusted to his fully restored condition, someone approached him.
“So this is what you meant by asking for help.”
Crunch.
The light footsteps belonged to someone of similar height and build to the mage. Short, dark red hair stopped just at the edge of his vision.
“Sixth rank. And with the power to overwhelm a thunder dragon. It’s hard to believe a human could achieve such strength.”
“I’ve raised a character or two in my time. I’m quite the veteran.”
“I don’t understand what you mean, but honestly, it might be better to go back and face Suum with Charina.”
Dalen chuckled. Even a true dragon changes its tune when things get tough.
Of course, he wasn’t wrong. If Dalen were in perfect condition, helping Charina would indeed be the better option.
But after battling two archdemons, with his energy depleted and body on the verge of collapse, this was his only chance.
The red-haired man knew this too, which is why he joked about it.
“Are you done with the chatter?”
The mage, who had been quietly observing, spoke. His arms still spread wide, his demeanor shifted.
“I’m not one to test the waters. So you have two choices.”
Rumble…
Thunder echoed from above. Instinctively, Dalen looked up.
”…Damn it.”
His eyebrows twitched. The sky over the snowy mountain was slowly splitting apart.
The ever-present dark clouds were being pushed aside, revealing a vast sea of lightning beyond.
“Domain Full Release: The Thunderous Ocean that Swallowed Hell.”
The mage’s eyes had turned a kaleidoscope of colors. He spoke again.
“Prove yourself, or die.”
“Dalen, watch out…!”
Before the red-haired man’s warning reached his ears.
━━━┻┳┻┳┻┳┻┳┻┳┻
The world shattered into hundreds of pieces as crimson lightning tore through the sky.