The Land of Demons (5)
“What a bunch of lunatics.”
The incessant squeaking of rats was enough to make anyone’s ears ring. Dalen adjusted his senses as he ventured deeper into the forest.
Even with his eyes closed, navigating the woods was no problem. He could easily sense the presence of the countless rats scurrying around him.
”······!”
“···Squeak!”
As he made no effort to conceal himself, eyes began to gather in the darkness, one by one.
The snuffling and squeaking of creatures, the cautious retreat of footsteps sensing danger.
The teeming presence formed a wide encirclement, never retreating beyond a certain point. They were adept at gauging distance, given their abilities.
Dalen knew that such creatures were often assassins.
And he also knew which group of assassins mimicked the cries of rats.
“The Darkmoon Clan.”
“···Human.”
A voice came from ahead. Dalen opened his eyes.
He stood at the edge of a clearing in the heart of the forest.
Years ago, a witch had offered sacrifices to Enaxagus here, gaining power in return. Now, instead of the witch who once brewed human stew, the clearing was filled with rat-men.
The ritual seemed to have already taken place, as evidenced by the torn human remains scattered near the altar.
Among the blood-soaked clothes were pieces of armor from the city alliance’s scouts, likely those who had ventured out for a night patrol.
“Sienna.”
With a sudden flutter, a crow appeared from the trees.
“Inform Everon to prepare for an attack. Though he might have already sensed it.”
The crow nodded and shot up into the sky. Watching the black silhouette disappear through the trees, Dalen turned his gaze back to the altar.
It seemed this wasn’t the first time the Darkmoon Clan had conducted a ritual at this altar. Judging by the mountain of bones piled behind it, there were at least hundreds.
They were likely refugees who had fled into the forest to escape the empire’s invasion. For herbalists familiar with the woods, seeking refuge there was a natural choice.
”······.”
As Dalen silently observed the pile of bones, the rat-men near the altar began to squeak again.
He turned to scrutinize their faces. There were quite a few he recognized.
“Squeak! That’s the one I told you about. The one who killed the Sixth Finger. The one the Well prophesied!”
The emaciated creature was the Fifth Finger of the Darkmoon Clan.
“The prophesied one. The gods said killing him would grant us great favor.”
The one adorned with blasphemous symbols on his arms, neck, and chest was the clan’s high priest.
“Kill him! Break his neck and tear off his limbs!”
“If we offer his heart while he’s still alive, we’ll receive even greater blessings!”
More than half of the Darkmoon Clan’s key figures were gathered here. This meant that about half of their forces were deployed around the city.
It wasn’t surprising. Enaxagus must have heard of the city alliance’s massive counterattack.
Though he had failed to capture Falcion and had to rely on the vampire count as reinforcements, the cunning dark god wouldn’t rely on a single strategy.
‘Before the army crosses the empire’s border, they intended to break our momentum here. I’ve been caught in similar situations before.’
However, there was one thing even the notoriously cunning Enaxagus couldn’t predict.
For Dalen, who had faced the dark god’s myriad schemes hundreds of times, this was just another event he had encountered in a previous cycle.
“Kill him! Kill him!”
“Let’s eat him alive!”
“Squeak! Overwhelm him with numbers!”
Encouraged by their leaders, the creatures surged forward with a rustling sound. The beasts’ murderous intent began to close in on the clearing.
The unpleasant noise of teeth grinding in hunger filled the forest. The number of rat-men surrounding the clearing was easily in the thousands.
[Discovered the corpse of a Silver Knight devoured alive.]
[Found the body of a mercenary, a trophy of the Third Finger.]
[Discovered the body of a high-ranking knight assassinated in his chamber…]
[The Fifth Finger feasted on the entrails of…]
Notifications of past cycles that ended at the hands of the Darkmoon Clan appeared in the darkness.
A blade slipped through a gap, coated in poison. Instinctively, Dalen reached out and snapped the wrist.
Crack!
He drew an axe from his waist and swung it. The head split vertically, and as he pulled it back, he twisted his body.
The corpse of a rat-man narrowly missed him, crashing into another that was charging from behind. He pulled a spear from a pocket dimension and thrust it forward.
The spear pierced through the back of the dead rat-man, skewering two more. Meanwhile, the axe in his right hand was already splitting open another’s skull.
Squeak, squeak, squeak!
Squeeeak!
The cries of rats echoed from all directions. There were more rat-men than trees in the forest.
The brainwashed and drugged assassins knew no fear. They simply charged and were cut down, one after another.
「Rulia’s Spring」
「Cheonjinryeo」
A spring burst forth from beneath his feet, overturning the earth and crushing rat-men with its pressure as it wound through the trees.
「Skadi’s Tidal Wave」
「Cheongpabyeokjo」
A massive wave surged through the darkness, sweeping away rat-men, overturned earth, and tree roots in one fell swoop.
“Climb the trees! Squeak! Climb the trees!”
“If you get swept away, you’ll die! Squeeeak—ack!”
The quick-witted ones began climbing the trees that withstood the current. After embedding an axe in one of their heads, Dalen added a light hand sign to the swirling magical wind.
Standing on the rippling water as if it were solid ground, he raised six ice crystals into the air.
「Ice Crystal」
「Six Blossoms of Creation」
As the ice flowers simultaneously unfurled their petals, the raging water froze as if by magic.
「Red Blossom Chaos」
Gliding through the frozen rat-men, the red-hot mithril spear once again unleashed a flurry of petals.
Splat, splat, splat──
The skilled ones who climbed the trees survived, but their reprieve was short-lived.
Dozens of spears and swords cut through the darkness, slaughtering the rat-men.
The assassins, who once moved through the shadows as if it were their home, breathed their last as flashes of light sliced through.
The storm clouds that had gathered overhead began to rain down lightning and fire, while the frozen ground exhaled a frigid chill.
The bodies of fallen comrades floated weightlessly, and the forest echoed with the dying screams of gray shadows.
“Enaxagus… send a hound to protect your servants!”
Grrrrr—!
Occasionally, high-ranking assassins who had mastered dark magic would summon hellish creatures by offering up accumulated souls.
Kyaaa───!
But each time, a dragon of lightning and flame would appear, jaws wide, devouring both the creature and its summoner.
“How is this possible… a Fifth Rank…”
In the midst of the massacre shrouded in darkness, Dalen held the Third Finger of the Darkmoon Clan by the throat.
“How can a single human’s mind contain so many different scenes? Unless you have multiple personalities… how can you harbor such disparate visions alone?”
Despite being on the brink of death, the assassin spat out his grievances, blackened blood splattering as he spoke.
Dalen silently gazed at the half-crushed head. There, in clear script, was the information of the character he was destined to inherit.
[Found the body of a mercenary, a trophy of the Third Finger.]
Someone’s final destination. The end of a being who was him, yet not him.
A person who had to wait an eternity for a single conclusion, even without witnessing the future they dreamed of.
His grip naturally loosened. He dropped the half-dead rat-man onto the frozen ground and readjusted the holy sword in his right hand.
“Everyone seems to ask that. I couldn’t answer before, but now I think I understand a little.”
”······!”
“Perhaps this is both an opportunity given to me and a burden I must bear. If so, the future I envision shouldn’t be an ending for me alone.”
“Now! Kill him!”
At the Third Finger’s scream, the rat-men hidden in the darkness charged all at once.
In the heart of the battlefield, a formidable assembly of shadows led by the High Priest and the Fourth Finger of the Dark Order stood poised. Survivors of countless battles, each was a seasoned officer, and among them, a few had transcended the art of assassination to become beings beyond human comprehension.
As their domains unfurled, the magical winds of the area trembled. The space around them warped, revealing worlds beyond the mind’s eye.
Dalen, gripping his holy sword lightly, watched the unfolding scene with eyes that seemed to sink into the depths of his thoughts. The tangled musings that had followed him from the inn had now submerged beneath the surface of his consciousness.
As the end drew near, the stark reality of the situation became clearer. Hundreds of worlds had already met their demise beyond the monitor’s reach. Bearing the weight of these remnants, what kind of future should he dare to dream of?
The question, long nurtured in the recesses of his mind, had no answer. But perhaps the lack of an answer was because the question itself was flawed from the start.
“Sometimes, you need to loosen the tension,” he recalled the words of a northern warrior, a man who had once guided him to Charina. Without the right to envision the future, any dream was nothing more than a futile fantasy.
For those buried under the end, unable to save anything, the most coveted future was simply the right to open a closed ending.
To survive the present and look towards tomorrow. To protect the precious bonds beside him now. And to safeguard this damned medieval land so that those people could continue to live.
“Damn this medieval land,” Dalen muttered with a wry smile, resting his hand on his hip amidst the encroaching domains and the murderous red eyes.
A low hum resonated as he grasped the axe in his left hand, and for the first time in ages, the holy sword sang.
A brilliant white ripple spread from beneath his feet.
And then—
“Complete Domain Release.”
A beam of light pierced through the stormy night sky.
Ruxisithuka Tavrella, the Fifth Finger of the Dark Moon Order, ran with every ounce of strength she had. For a high-ranking officer like her, fleeing might have seemed shameful, but the scene she had just witnessed erased any such thoughts.
“A monster… no, a demon…”
She couldn’t comprehend the spectacle in the forest. She knew how monstrous a transcendent being could be. After all, to become one of the Six Fingers, one had to have killed a transcendent.
So when she heard that the Sixth Finger, Pikkake, had died, she was certain the opponent was formidable. Though slightly less skilled than her, Pikkake was still one of the Six Fingers, not someone prone to carelessness or mistakes.
When faced with the prospect of fighting the warrior who had killed him, Ruxisithuka hesitated, albeit briefly. Her concern was more about the potential losses to her allies than the possibility of defeat.
But this opponent was different.
What began as a simple water spell had frozen the entire forest, and the clouds above spewed fire and lightning. It took less than a few hours for ten thousand Dark Moon Order members to be slaughtered. When she saw the warrior take down the Third Finger from afar, Ruxisithuka decided to flee.
“I must inform the Dark Moon Leader. Either join the forces attacking the city or return alone…”
But as she finally escaped the forest, the plan to join her allies was abandoned. The Dark Moon Order attacking the city of Revivach was being decimated.
[――――!]
A carriage pulled by two drakes roamed outside the city walls, breathing fire. Arrows like fiery pillars shot from within the city, weaving through the Dark Moon Order’s ranks like living serpents.
The half-destroyed city walls had been reinforced with solid earthen barriers, as if a grand earth mage was at work, and soldiers who should have been incapacitated were firing guns and crossbows from above.
Suddenly, a chill ran down her spine. Instinctively, Ruxisithuka tore a teleportation scroll, glancing back in her unease.
━━━━━━━!!
The last image imprinted in her eyes as the teleportation magic enveloped her was a mountain peak that had inexplicably risen in the forest and a pillar of light piercing the sky, striking the summit.