Under the Celestial Sphere of Silent Moonlight (3)
Beneath the slowly moving stars, the silence was short-lived.
“What are those eyes… Gah!”
The moment the blond youth opened his mouth to speak, a spear flew from behind, piercing through his back.
“Ugh… Heh heh…”
Coughing up blood, the young man clutched the spear protruding from his chest. Despite the agony twisting his face, a smile lingered on his lips.
Another spear followed, this time aimed at his head.
Crack—!
His skull shattered like a watermelon, scattering fragments and the red and white contents within.
“Old lady! Are you hurt? Are you okay?”
Behind the fallen corpse, the blond youth came running, shouting in concern.
“The connection with my doppelgänger was suddenly severed, so I wondered what was going on…!”
He repeatedly struck the headless corpse with his spear, as if to ensure it was dead. His face bore an uncanny resemblance to the shattered corpse.
“He’s already dead, Everon. It’s not a pleasant sight to see you desecrate your own doppelgänger’s body.”
“But what if Enaxagus possessed it? Who knows what tricks that bastard might pull…!”
“The doppelgänger’s power wasn’t strong enough for that. It seems he neglected his training.”
The girl laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. Everon Raktala frowned at her nonchalant demeanor.
“Damn it. I got all worked up for nothing. I thought you were about to be assassinated. I’m already overwhelmed gathering my doppelgängers.”
“Assassinated in my own front yard? I’m far stronger than you, Everon.”
”…”
“Alright, alright. Just kidding.”
Everon flicked the blood off his spear, his face showing an unusual weariness.
It was inevitable. The continent’s situation was deteriorating daily, and the Golden Palace couldn’t just sit idly by.
While preparing for war by mobilizing the families, the transcendents each took their own measures to prepare for unforeseen events.
Everon was busy gathering his scattered doppelgängers and drowning in the sudden surge of administrative work.
His workload had multiplied many times over, leaving him feeling like he needed ten bodies to keep up.
“In any case, it’s my mistake. I never expected an evil god to possess the doppelgänger I had turned into a spy. Even though he was a cultist of Enaxagus, I thought I had managed him well…”
“I’m curious about that too.”
The girl nodded, sitting cross-legged.
“According to the stars, his true form is still on the interstellar throne. For him to exert such power without descending to the continent… it’s quite something.”
Her body floated gently, her white hair fluttering as if caught in a breeze. The celestial sphere began to spin faster.
“Has his power grown somehow? Or is there an unforeseen variable we didn’t anticipate?”
Her gaze turned skyward. Everon took a step back.
The celestial sphere spun rapidly, tracing incomprehensible paths. The strange colors of the sphere layered over the girl’s vitreous body. Her white eyes flashed like lightning between darkness and light.
After a deep breath, her voice resonated through the air.
[The Empire has fractured, and the Pantheon’s status has plummeted. The Blood Altar is shattered, and the residents once bound to the blood fiends are fleeing the cursed lands.]
Her voice filled the space, its tone and pace perfectly steady, almost inhuman.
The white eyes of Aliat, who understood the stars’ movements and gazed upon the river of fate, were now glimpsing the yet-to-come turning points.
[The contract between the First Feather Witch and the dragon has been fulfilled. The ancient fire dragon, once nameless, has been granted a new name and destiny. The evil god of plague and distortion is crossing the sea towards the Three Kingdoms, and a new evil has emerged from the depths of the labyrinth…]
Her voice abruptly cut off.
Silence filled the chamber.
Everon shuddered involuntarily. He had witnessed prophecies before, but never anything like this.
[Two evil gods have perished.]
“What?”
[The stars of Suum and the Dragon God have lost their light.]
Her lips trembled as she stared at the celestial sphere, blinking in disbelief.
[Evil devours evil, and an unprecedented malevolence rises from the abyss. The Great Dragon War has ended. The one who broke the Dragon God’s neck was Dalen. Who is that man…]
”…”
[The river of fate has overflowed uncontrollably. It has lost its original course entirely.]
Thud.
The girl’s floating body fell to the ground.
Her white hair scattered as Everon rushed to support her.
“Old lady… does this mean we’re doomed?”
“Doomed? Quite the opposite.”
She smiled through her disheveled hair, a childlike grin that matched her youthful appearance.
“The future isn’t closed. The end is no longer inevitable.”
”…”
“For the first time, there’s hope for this continent, Everon.”
With a face full of joy, the seer spoke.
“Prepare for war.”
It’s not as rare as one might think for monsters to speak.
When Dalen first descended into the labyrinth, the chieftain of the gnoll tribe he dismantled could speak the common human tongue, albeit clumsily.
The rapid development of intelligence through the blessing of an evil god sometimes surpasses that of the average human.
Thus, the context behind the sudden appearance of a frogman asking for help was far more significant than the event itself.
“Was it a trap to catch us off guard? Or did it genuinely seek help?”
Lucia tilted her head, staring at the bisected frog head.
“Who knows? That’s what we need to find out.”
“But… Dalen’s axe split its head in two.”
“Even if it’s dead, we can make it talk.”
What else is necromancy for? Dalen pulled a dagger from his coat.
A sinister red blade, a sacrificial dagger used by high-ranking dark mages.
Thud!
He plunged the dagger into the bisected corpse.
The blood-red blade hungrily sought to devour the soul as soon as it pierced the cooling flesh.
Just as the dagger began to absorb the soul, Dalen formed a simple hand sign.
With a snap of his fingers, the soul being drawn into the blade was pulled out, taking shape.
A ghostly frogman appeared, its form translucent.
[Gerk? Urrgh?]
“Hey. I have some questions for you.”
[You, human!]
“Yes, the human you asked for help…”
[Axe! Flash! Betrayal… Gyaaah!]
Screech!
Instead of answering, the frogman rolled its eyes and screamed. Chains emerged from the void, wrapping tightly around its spectral neck.
The chill silenced the frogman. A voice echoed from the spatial rift.
[You dare run your mouth, dead frog? Master, leave this to me!]
It was Arvor, the undying demon.
The demon, a hulking mass, squeezed through the spatial rift and began interrogating the spirit with fiery chains.
Having absorbed several essences of demons during the Northern War, Arvor had regained some of the powers that were once the domain of the tree.
Powers that could affect both physical and spiritual entities.
[Speak now, or I’ll curse you into oblivion!]
[Gerk! Urrgh!]
The sight of the massive spirit being pummeled by the stout demon with fire and chains was something to behold.
Dalen watched with interest, arms crossed. Felber approached, stroking his beard.
“When did your demon become so proactive?”
”…I’m not sure. Around the time we fought the subterranean dragon, I think.”
“I heard it’s not originally a demon. Lucia mentioned it’s the inverted tree from myths.”
The inverted tree, a transcendent being that extended its branches across all timelines.
The war god seemed to consider it important, but given how it was used like a ragdoll, it didn’t seem necessary to treat it delicately.
In any case, it wasn’t urgent, so it could be figured out gradually. Dalen sheathed his axe and drew it again.
“Hey. That’s enough.”
[No, just a little more and it’ll talk…]
“Wrap it up. I think I know why it asked for help.”
Thud…
As soon as the words left his mouth, the ground began to tremble. The group turned their heads in unison.
The source of the tremor was deep within the maze-like cracks. It was getting closer, unmistakably heading their way.
“Dalen, those things…”
“Monsters. Ones that should be deep within the labyrinth.”
Practically demons, he added, prompting Lucia to draw her sword immediately.
“Dalen, the labyrinth’s levels are strictly separated. This shouldn’t be happening.”
Bjorn muttered as he pulled out a series of bombs. It was indeed strange.
Creatures from the depths of the labyrinth emerging to the surface was something that hadn’t happened in hundreds of cycles.
Dalen scratched his head with the handle of his axe and replied, “Let’s deal with them first, then think.”
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
The ground shook with a rough rhythm, the pace quickening and the tremors growing stronger.
A cloud of dust rose, filling the valley floor, and through it, a massive horn appeared first.
Roar―!
It resembled a gigantic rhinoceros.
But its size was worlds apart from any ordinary rhino.
Standing dozens of meters tall, its every step sent shockwaves through the ground.
Its three-pronged horn could easily pierce buildings, and its entire body crackled with purple electricity.
‘A creature we called the purple triceratops. It should only appear on the fifth level of the labyrinth.’
Monsters from the labyrinth’s depths.
Possessing power comparable to demons, yet bound to the labyrinth, never venturing beyond.
The ones following were also creatures from the fourth or fifth levels, each with combat prowess rivaling demons.
With a swift motion, Dalen spun his axe in his hand and charged forward. It was right to stop them now.
With the main barrier down, this was the last chance to halt their advance. The protective wall above the fissure had been partially destroyed during the dragon god’s assault on the Holy Knights.
In the already chaotic state of the continent, if the labyrinth’s deep monsters began to rampage, there would be no hope.
At the very least, they needed to buy time to prepare for the final war. Just as he thought this, a massive silhouette burst through the monsters’ ranks.
Roar!
A giant with a bull’s head leaped ahead of the rhino.
It looked like a common minotaur, but it was a giant over ten meters tall.
The creature swung its axe down—a massive stone axe made from an entire tree.
Boom!
Dalen twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the blow. The impact sent him airborne.
As he let the swirling wind from the axe’s path carry him, he thought in the elongated moment.
‘What I gained from fighting the dragon god wasn’t just the stats and skills inherited from corpses.’
A battlefield where hell and domain clashed.
A fight on equal terms between worlds.
How many times had he narrowly escaped death in the hundreds of exchanges that split seconds?
Even after claiming victory with the power of three dragons, he wondered if he could have won without their help.
Dalen couldn’t be sure. That’s why it felt even more urgent.
In the final battle, what mattered wasn’t just the size of the domain or the scale of power.
It was the ability to wield this rampaging body and the potential of his mind as he wished.
With a light step, he let the reverse wind carry him onto the creature’s wrist without exerting any effort. Shaking off stray thoughts, he sprinted up its forearm.
He didn’t use the teleportation skill he had relied on so often, nor the ability to step on air at will.
His entire focus was on his body. Just like when he first landed on this continent and adapted to his inhuman body during his two years as a mercenary.
Slice!
He swung his axe at the left hand trying to shake him off, slipping through the severed fingers.
Before he knew it, the minotaur’s head was right in front of him.
Dodging the charging horns, he grabbed its long beard. Using it like a swing, he spun around the creature’s neck.
As Dalen released the beard and landed smoothly on the ground, a spray of dark red blood erupted from above.
The minotaur’s head, neatly severed, fell with a thud, and the massive body collapsed.
Thud―
“Next.”