The Final Battle (2)
“You… you…!”
The shadow elf didn’t die immediately.
With an axe embedded in its forehead, it lay on its back, choking and frothing blood.
Dalen scratched his chin as he approached. He remarked, “Sturdy, aren’t you?”
“Of course, it’s the Dream King. Naturally tough.”
“The Dream King? The fallen ruler of the shadow elves?”
“Yes, the master of the underground palace.”
Sienna asked incredulously, “You didn’t just bury an axe in its head without knowing who it was, did you?”
“I knew who it was. Just another lackey of the evil god.”
”…So you really didn’t know it was originally the Dream King?”
Dalen shrugged. How was I supposed to know?
In the game, the Dream King always hid its face behind a veil that fell to its shoulders. It wasn’t like he encountered it as often as other demons or transcendent beings.
He’d only faced it once as a boss in the underground palace, and he wasn’t skilled enough to dissect the model through programming.
‘Even if I could, I wouldn’t have bothered. Who wants to see the original of a voice that sounds like a cracked old man?’
Anyway, it seemed the reason its head didn’t shatter from the axe throw that could break a castle gate was because of its identity.
Sienna shook her head as she watched Dalen casually tap the elf’s head.
“How did you even manage it? The Dream King’s curse shroud is hard to dispel even with high-level miracles…”
“I just threw it.”
”…”
“Anyway, if this one’s the Dream King, that’s one less head to deal with when we go to the underground palace later.”
Her long eyelashes fluttered briefly. The witch then narrowed her eyes and chuckled.
“That’s more like you. I almost forgot, since it’s the first time I’m seeing it in this life.”
Dalen shrugged again and looked down.
The elf with the axe in its head glared at him with blood-red eyes.
Whether it was the Dream King or the evil god’s avatar, it didn’t make much difference.
The axe, infused with magic, had pierced its skull, turning its contents into mush, physically and magically.
“You… Da…len…”
Dalen slowly leaned down.
His eyes met the sinister, purple-tinged eyes of the elf.
“Just wait a little longer, Enaxagus.”
He placed his foot on the creature’s neck, pressing down with the hard heel of his boot. The pale face quickly turned a shade of purple.
“Ugh…”
Everyone had died.
Literally everyone, except for Lucia.
Though they were revived, the fact that they had died once didn’t change. And it wasn’t just this time.
Hundreds of worlds had perished, and thousands of heroes had died.
Millions who tried to protect the world closed their eyes without fulfilling their grudges, and the hell created by the creature swallowed countless souls in agony worse than death.
Countless.
Literally an uncountable number of people.
Setting foot in the labyrinth city where everyone had died, enduring the pain, and reviving them all made him realize once again.
They weren’t just polygonal figures moving by a few lines of data; they were living beings with souls, just like him.
They weren’t beings that could be casually killed or thrown into the pits of hell by a mere wave of the creature’s hand.
“Soon, I’ll do the same to your true form.”
So it wasn’t bad.
Even the unpleasant sensation of something bursting underfoot and the small sound of bones snapping.
The elf’s eyes bulged as its neck was crushed and severed.
Even as an avatar, it felt pain. It was only natural that it shared the sensation.
Lifting the axe to separate the head from the body, Dalen opened a pocket dimension.
He tossed the elf’s head into the void and spoke over the demon’s scream.
[What is this?!]
“Let’s go.”
He sheathed his axe and moved forward.
Two paladins, two mages, a dwarf, two dragons, and a witch followed him slowly.
It was time to bring down the fortress the evil god had built in the labyrinth city.
Click.
A faint sound of a pressure plate being pressed.
Creak—
The sound of a lever being pulled from beyond the wall.
The wide corridor of the Golden Palace shook around the group.
And soon, the walls on either side crumbled, unleashing a storm of bullets.
Rumble!
Before the barrage could hit, the floor and ceiling flipped, leaving no place to stand.
Clang! Crash!
Behind the lead storm, pillars and walls closed in from all directions like waves, threatening to crush them.
Like the ruins of the Sandstorm Dynasty beneath the old paladin order, the living mechanisms of the corridor and floor exuded a chilling intent to kill.
The fact that the main gate of the Golden Palace had been left open was all part of the plan, as the living mechanical traps continuously attacked the group from the moment they stepped in.
“Tsk.”
But there was no need for Dalen to step in like before.
He wasn’t the only one who had steadily grown stronger, even if he hadn’t exponentially absorbed corpses like someone else.
“Tsk.”
With a short click of his tongue, golden magic flared from his fingertips, spreading in all directions.
“Elle. Memento Casivolg.”
Crack—!
With a light incantation, the bullets that had been flying with the intent to tear flesh and shatter bones halted in mid-air.
Even without fully opening his domain, he could draw upon its power like a single line of incantation.
That insane level of application was precisely why a sorcerer who had surpassed the realm of a grand mage and reached the rank of a demigod could distort the laws of the world as easily as breathing.
“Sienna.”
“Hold on tight.”
Rustle!
Feathers swirled from all directions, weaving through the frozen bullets to create a path.
In the void where the floor and ceiling had vanished, a black-and-white corridor was swiftly constructed.
Swoosh!
The soft yet resilient feathers naturally propelled the group forward.
Like leaves floating lightly on the current of a flowing stream, the group shot forward like arrows toward the oncoming pillars and walls.
“Old man! The pillar!”
“Got it!”
At Sienna’s shout, dozens of explosives dangled from the dwarf’s pouch.
Though they seemed to be thrown haphazardly, the moment they detonated, the small storm of metal balls flew precisely forward.
Boom! Boom!
The acrobatics of throwing explosives designed to detonate in a specific direction, like modern claymores, at the exact spot and moment, unfolded effortlessly.
The result was a miracle where the wave of structures blocking their path was eroded as if weathered for centuries in an instant, and even the aftershock was skillfully directed to scatter the remaining pillars.
Screech—!
“O god of war, imbue my sword with the spirit to vanquish evil.”
The teeth and claws of high-level monsters breaking through the chaos were cut and burned by the two paladins as soon as they appeared.
Curses and spells fired from a distance were practically meaningless in front of the true dragons, the very source of mysticism.
The feathered corridor carried the group along the path opened by the explosive spectacle, while the gleaming magic and swordplay flashed between the frozen mechanical traps.
In the midst of it all, Dalen couldn’t help but chuckle. The sight of him not lifting a finger felt strangely awkward yet gratifying.
Perhaps this was the scene he had dreamed of all along.
Heroes from all over gathered in one place, breaking through the evil god’s onslaught with their potential that had blossomed beyond their limits.
[Focus on recovery, Dalen. Their actions are not merely out of consideration for you.]
“I know.”
It was because he was the only one who could face Enaxagus.
The current strategy was also to buy time for his body, battered from the wide-scale resurrection, to recover as much as possible.
How long had they continued advancing at a speed several times faster than a galloping horse?
As the resistance from the enemies gradually weakened, Dalen suddenly spoke.
“The air is changing.”
It was like descending into the labyrinth from the rift.
The very magic flowing through the atmosphere was altering, and the texture of the world’s materials felt subtly different.
“Increase speed.”
“Thunder Strike”
─────!
With a single swing of the axe, everything within a hundred meters ahead was cleaved apart.
The sight of mechanical traps, monsters, and even incoming spells shattering and vanishing.
“Domain Unleashed: Silent Wingbeat of the Slums”
“Black Wave, White Blade”
“Violation of Protocol”
Whirr──!
Leaving behind the sound of Akasha and Tommy gasping, Sienna pushed her witch’s powers to the limit, accelerating their speed.
Black and white feathers scattered at the vanguard and rear of the group, twisting and pulling the space ahead and behind them simultaneously.
“The monsters are no longer following us. They’ve stopped entirely.”
“It feels like we’ve hit an invisible boundary… I see. The air has changed…”
In an instant, the group had traversed kilometers, and soon enough, they began to experience the same phenomenon that Dalen had sensed.
“Yes.”
It could only mean one thing.
“We’ve entered the Twenty-Sixth Hall.”
The colossal city of Falcion, surrounded by seven walls.
Yet, in reality, only five walls are visible, extending up to the barrier of the Golden Palace.
The prevailing theory was that the remaining two walls were hidden within the Golden Palace, but the truth was quite the opposite.
The Sixth District, known as the Twenty-Sixth Hall, had no physical walls unlike the outer districts.
This was because the Twenty-Sixth Hall itself was a place that didn’t require the concept of physical protection.
“So, this is essentially a place where a domain has descended,” Parn remarked as they walked down a dim corridor.
Having shaken off their pursuers, the group found themselves in a passage where the walls and ceiling were covered in amorphous, shifting shadows.
[Correct. It’s a domain created through a mix of numerous spells, a makeshift descent. They’ve expanded and layered them to form a loose connection.]
“So, there are twenty-six such domains…”
[It’s the culmination of the imaginations passed down through the twenty-six noble families of the Golden Palace. All woven together into a grand masterpiece.]
A domain is the fruit of imagination, an independent world governed by its own laws within a realm of fantasy.
Due to its power, it was often passed down through generations within families, knight orders, or magic towers.
Of course, not everyone who inherited a domain could wield its full power. Depending on one’s talent, they might only learn a few spells or a part of its martial principles.
Nevertheless, the fact that a domain passed down through generations could forge a powerful force was undeniable.
The noble families of the Golden Palace took it a step further.
They descended the inherited domains into reality, turning them into fortresses that protected the core of their barriers.
The change in the ambient magic, similar to when descending into a labyrinth through a rift, was due to this.
In the end, both the labyrinth and the domain were microcosms within a fantasy world. Once the environment was artificially fixed, this place too was governed by laws separate from reality.
“I can’t quite wrap my head around it. How is that even possible? After reaching the sixth rank, I’ve come to realize just how absurd the concept of descent is,” Felber said, conjuring a globe of light without an incantation. The surroundings brightened slightly, making the shadows more distinct. Bourbon nodded in agreement.
[It is absurd. I’ve heard they fix the state of complete openness through spells. They also add various tricks, including the presence of the domain’s heir.]
“So, it’s not truly a descent of the domain. It’s more like they’ve fixed and layered shadows of the original domain multiple times.”
[Exactly. Human ingenuity can be astonishingly peculiar at times.]
Peculiar, indeed. Dalen shook his head.
Sometimes, dragons seemed like masters of human praise. They would belittle mortals for their finite lifespans, only to turn around and extol their remarkable progress due to those very limitations.
Well, dragons were spellcasters too. The chaos of spellcasting was nothing new.
In Dalen’s view, it was simply a case of the goal overshadowing the means.
“No wonder they didn’t show up when the northern continent was in chaos, like dogs tied to their posts,” Bjorn grumbled, having listened quietly.
In hindsight, it wasn’t a strange interpretation to say that the transcendents had neglected the continent’s myriad issues while trying to maintain their barriers.
They had tied their left foot to maintain the core of the barrier, and their right foot to sustain the false descent of the domain protecting that core.
“A transcendent with a leash, and there are twenty-six of them. Running around to rescue citizens was only possible because the Golden Palace was destroyed, freeing them from their leashes.”
[It’s the folly of mortals who can only move forward along a finite timeline. They run with all their might, but it’s not unusual for their direction to veer slightly. Besides, now is not the time to focus on blame.]
“To think I’d get advice from a dragon,” the dwarf, who had practically overcome his species’ inherent fear, remarked with a peculiar expression.
Bourbon wasn’t wrong.
While it’s important to distinguish between merits and faults for a better future, now was the time to consider whether that future even existed.
The crucial fact was that this place was a network of domains, half akin to a fantasy world.
And those domains were now in the enemy’s hands.
‘Of all things, it’s fallen to the one coiled within the fantasy world.’
[Ah, there’s a door ahead.]
At the end of the dim corridor was a door, faint light seeping through its cracks.
As they unlatched and opened the door, a strange yellow-green light engulfed them.
“My God.”
“Dear heavens.”
Beyond the door lay a scene straight out of hell.
Under a distorted yellow-green sun stretched a vast plain, decaying and spewing waste.
The ground was covered in pus and boils, and tumor-like mounds swelled and burst, spewing out mutations.
Under a sky shrouded in acrid, toxic clouds, twisted vines and plants grew endlessly, forming a living maze.
“I’ve read about this in the texts. A false world covered in poison, plague, endless mimicry, and mutation,” Lucia said, gripping the hilt of her holy sword tightly. Dalen nodded.
“Indeed. This is the first of the four.”
This was one of the great hells once ruled by the four evil gods devoured by Enaxagous.
The Illusory Palace of Raphilem.