The Saint (1)
A narrow alley, slick with filth and slime. Two shadows flitted across the walls, which seemed to pulse like living organs.
“It’s best not to be discovered by the demons, at least for now,” murmured a young man named Parne.
Despite racing at a speed faster than an arrow, the voice of the young paladin was remarkably clear. Yet, their footsteps were eerily silent as they dashed through the alleyways, turning corners without a sound and scaling debris-blocked paths with the fluidity of water.
‘He’s surpassed Commander Edgar Reinhardt. There’s a reason that man called him a young swordmaster from the first meeting,’ thought Dalen, trailing behind the now-grown Parne.
Fortunately, it hadn’t been decades since they last met. Parne’s sudden aging was the result of a spell cast by Felber Valentino, the master of the Elgaia Tower. According to Parne, it was a spell that projected his future self, a swordmaster from years ahead, onto his present self.
‘The Hand of the Earth that Winds the Clock Forward… that’s what he called it.’
It was a secret art from the fully unlocked domain of Felber, who had reached the sixth rank. Not only did he pour his entire essence into it, but he also used his own life as a catalyst for this final spell. After forming a pact with the blood of a true dragon, Felber’s lifespan had extended far beyond that of a human. In that sense, winding the timeline forward was a miracle that required the sacrifice of his enhanced life force, a feat only possible for someone who had touched the realm of transcendence.
‘It’s not surprising. In some ways, it surpasses even the capabilities of Aliat.’
Aliat, the seer with white eyes, could foresee the flow of fate and predict the movements of evil gods, even bending the timelines assigned to the avatars of the Pantheon. Yet, even she, a monster who had lived for over a thousand years, couldn’t directly manipulate a future that hadn’t yet come to pass. This highlighted just how extraordinary Felber’s ability to draw future outcomes into the present was, despite its fatal drawback of costing one’s life.
Whoooosh—
Even as these thoughts crossed his mind, Dalen didn’t stop running. Only a faint breeze lingered in the alley they had passed through, their movements so silent they seemed otherworldly. If any survivors in the city had witnessed them, they might have thought they were seeing ghosts.
“After the Golden Palace fell, Enaxagus ascended into the sky,” Parne spoke again, leaping over a three-story building.
“And not long after it rose, a crimson vortex descended from the sky towards the city.”
His gaze was fixed on the distant city center, where the Golden Palace stood, a massive blood-red pillar visible even from kilometers away. The fact that it was visible from such a distance meant the vortex was at least as tall and wide as a hundred-story building. It likely engulfed the entire Golden Palace, and the fate of the noble families and their servants was all too obvious without needing to check.
Thud… Thud…
The vortex emitted a rhythmic, reddish pulse, echoing like a heartbeat. Parne explained that this pulse was the source of the hellish contamination spreading through the city.
“It took only three days for the entire labyrinth city to become contaminated.”
“Three days.”
“Three days that felt like three years.”
As they conversed, the two crossed over the city walls. Entering the Silver District, Dalen and Parne sprinted across the rooftops of high-rise buildings. The contamination in the Silver District was even more severe than in the Bronze District, likely due to its proximity to the crimson vortex.
Dalen looked up at the central plaza. Where the barrier tower once stood, a large hole now spewed forth an endless stream of labyrinthine monsters.
“The grand barrier of the Golden Palace collapsed, leading to this,” Parne noted, catching Dalen’s gaze.
“The power that suppressed the labyrinth’s overflow vanished. But even so, the sheer number of monsters emerging is far from normal.”
“That damned mongrel’s doing.”
“What do you mean…?”
“Nothing.”
In any case, those monsters weren’t their immediate concern. More pressing were the demon armies scouring the city and Enaxagus, who led them.
“Until two days ago, when I left, the last stand was taking place in the Platinum District.”
“The Platinum District, huh. The Golden Palace would have been better for defense.”
“You’re right, but… wars don’t always go as planned. Once the Platinum Wall fell, the battle turned into chaos.”
It meant the front lines had been split. The Golden Palace was holding off Enaxagus’s direct assault, while external forces, including Dalen’s comrades, fought the demons from various strongholds. The Platinum Wall fell too quickly, and the demon army’s infiltration was more rapid than anticipated, leading to this situation. It seemed this scenario was considered in plans C or D.
Ideally, external forces would have dealt with the demons and monsters to some extent before striking Enaxagus from behind. However, the appearance of the Devourer shattered that plan. The elves were devoured first, followed by the guild alliance’s reinforcements and the orcs.
“The Devourer. The ancient beast Bourbon had sealed?”
“Yes. Enaxagus tamed it, making it even stronger. Not even Kylebercus, Sienna, or the commander could handle it. It’s practically a new evil god now.”
A new evil god. Dalen pondered for a moment.
“A walking experience farm.”
“Excuse me?”
“Tell me who survived until you left.”
“Ugh…”
The metallic scent of blood filled her nostrils. Her head throbbed with a dull ache just from standing.
It was likely due to the shock reaching her brain. Lucia didn’t hold back the bile rising within her and retched.
[…Mother.]
A worried gaze fell upon her. Lucia bit her lip.
The faint throbbing cleared her vision slightly. She turned her head toward the source of the voice. Lying beside her was Akasha, a massive azure-scaled dragon.
[Are you alright?]
“You shouldn’t be the one asking that.”
[You would have said the same if our roles were reversed.]
”…You sure know how to talk back.”
The dragon chuckled softly, though it winced in pain.
With nearly half its side torn away, even breathing must have been excruciating.
Lucia lifted her head. Above her, the shadow of a colossal beast loomed.
”…The Devourer.”
The beast that Kylebercus Arben had sealed for millennia. After its release, it was tamed by Enaxagus, gaining power akin to an evil god.
It resembled a massive rhinoceros cloaked in shadow, save for its six pairs of glowing red eyes. Its entire body, the size of several skyscrapers combined, was shrouded in a writhing shadow.
That shadow was a curse given form.
A curse of devouring, consuming and assimilating all powers and abilities into its own.
“Ugh…”
The long wound on her side was also inflicted by the curse of devouring.
As a result, nearly half of her holy tattoos had ceased functioning, and she couldn’t even access her domain’s power.
Even the commander, who had pushed the beast to its limits, eventually succumbed to the curse.
Sienna and Kylebercus, who had wounded the beast earlier, had long since lost contact.
Bjorn’s explosives seemed to pierce the veil of the curse and deal a critical blow, but the dwarf’s body was torn apart before the beast’s tough hide.
The azure dragon that had fought to protect her was dying, its side savagely torn.
[…Mother.]
But she couldn’t give up now.
As long as she had the strength to wield her sword, a paladin’s spirit was to never kneel before evil.
She stood on trembling legs, pointing her sword with a shaking hand.
She squeezed out the last remnants of her divine power. The moment the holy tattoos scattered across her arms and legs glowed white—
Screeeeech—
A sound like tearing air reached her ears. A disc of light appeared from nowhere, slicing through the air.
The disc of light, appearing suddenly in the blood-red sky, seemed to glow with a reddish hue.
Its speed wasn’t particularly fast, so the beast reacted. It snorted, presenting its toughest shoulder to the disc.
Crunch!
[…!!]
The red disc tore through the curse and ripped the hide.
The projectile pierced through the shoulder, exiting through the opposite side.
Thud—crash!
Finally, an axe, having spent its force, embedded itself into the street’s paving stones.
In that moment, the predator’s six eyes widened in disbelief—not because of any spell or power, but simply because an axe had pierced its body.
“Return to the Abyss.”
A gray shadow flickered in the air. Above the beast’s head, a man clad in half-torn armor appeared.
“Step of the Void.”
With the grace of a seasoned acrobat, the man flipped effortlessly in midair. Planting his feet on the invisible, he gripped a massive sword with both hands and extended his legs.
━━━━━━━━!!
A wide arc was drawn.
From the height of several stories, the sword’s trajectory plummeted to the ground.
The strike, devoid of any magical force, cleaved everything in its path.
There was no sound, no resistance.
The beast, attempting to retreat from the incomprehensible phenomenon, suddenly realized that half of its body was moving independently.
[Grrooo…!]
That was its end. Split in two, it collapsed, spilling its innards.
As life faded from its eyes, the curse-laden magic that had enveloped its hide dispersed explosively.
Dalen flicked his sword clean and turned around. The last surviving paladin was watching him.
“Dalen…”
Her voice trailed off, blood trickling from her lips.
Dalen sheathed his sword and approached her, wrapping an arm around Lucia’s back.
“They’re all… gone. Why…”
Her words, choked with suppressed sobs, carried a weight that no language could capture.
Perhaps it was an emotion beyond expression. Dalen patted her armor gently and replied briefly.
“It’s alright.”
“Dal…”
“Rest for a moment. Don’t worry.”
Her body, lighter than before, was not in a state for prolonged reunion.
Dalen set Lucia down gently and turned to the dragon with closed eyes. The azure-scaled dragon had breathed its last just before he felled the beast.
“You’ve done well.”
Akasha Liulak.
The fifth azure dragon and the exiled dragon god’s left arm.
In this world, Akasha had followed Dalen, calling him father, but in the game, it was a calamity that turned the southern regions into a frozen hell.
‘In the dragon’s lair, a young one will follow you. It might have been your nemesis once, and I can’t ask you to forget that grudge.’
An old prophecy from Felber came to mind.
A tale told as a dying wish after using his domain to its limits against the previous azure dragon.
‘Still, I ask you to take in the young one.’
Who would have thought that a boss monster, akin to a natural disaster in almost every iteration, would become one of the heroes standing against the end, waiting for him?
Following Felber’s words turned out to be one of the most successful choices.
Reflecting on those memories, Dalen placed his hand on the blue scales.
[Discovered the body of a warrior from the southwestern continent.]
[Discovered the body of a mage who participated in the Great War.]
[Discovered the body of a noble hunter of the Dark Moon.]
[Discovered the body of a hero who lost their light.]
[Discovered the body of a steadfast saint.]
For years since the rift, these phrases had hovered above the azure dragon’s head.
[Body of the Steadfast Saint]
It was time to retrieve the body of the transcendent saint, who had revived countless lives from beyond the monitor.