Episode 477
A new religion that had risen from the roots of Toorun.
Its beginnings were humble, but its end was grand—sparking religious wars across Gaia and stealing away one of the major branches of the unified faith in the divine.
Ian realized that all beings called heretics, aside from the underground god, were merely ‘shadows.’ He understood precisely why these entities were considered shadows of the divine.
If the god did not exist, they wouldn’t either. Yet by existing, they paradoxically prove the god’s existence. Arrogantly, these shadows even call themselves gods.
“…Just one among many names?”
Ian slowly raised his magic sword. Now, he felt he understood the chains of fate that bound him.
“To claim the name of god while being a creature of demonic nature? How presumptuous.”
Everything that had caused the tremors now made sense. Since this being’s heart lay underground, the only way to extend its influence beyond Gaia was through this path.
Threatening Bariel was a natural step. The empire was a nation blessed fully by the god, making it a crucial pillar of the divine’s foundation.
Watching this, Ian thought it only natural that the god had created Idgal. The existing magic-sealing stones were too rare to hold back the flood of monsters.
Idgal was a threat to mages but also a new means to suppress monsters. Unlike the magic-sealing stones, Idgal could be created and destroyed as needed—perfect for steering history.
“You raise your sword to cut me down?”
The underground god chuckled, looking down at Ian. To it, Ian was nothing more than a trivial ant—an insignificant creature it could crush at any moment.
“…I know. I cannot cut you down.”
As long as the god exists, so will this shadow. As long as humans cling to their vain beliefs and do not all perish, its power will not wane. Ian knew this. With his current strength, he could never defeat the underground god.
“But now that I face you, I have no choice but to give everything to cut you down. That is the mission the god has bestowed upon me, the very reason I exist here. Whether you cut me down or not doesn’t matter. I am simply doing what I must.”
“Foolish. Do you believe in the god? Look at Bandor! Once thought a mage close to the divine, he was utterly abandoned. You will suffer the same fate—living in delusion.”
“I believe in the god.”
Ziiing! Ziiing!
Whoosh!
Ian’s sword energy exploded.
The magic sword, shimmering like golden eyes, rippled with presence. A light that did not belong in the abyssal sea—small but unmistakable, unextinguishable even if locked away.
“Yes. The deeper the faith, the deeper the pain.”
“I am not afraid. The god is with me.”
Everything he did was the god’s will; there was no reason to fear, even if regrets lingered.
The underground god noticed the fragment of Ian’s heart still clinging on and laughed.
“Do not worry. Everything you hold dear will be buried underground.”
“How laughable. If they were truly my comrades, they would have cut you down alongside me. They would have made the decision before I did, without fear. So, under the god’s blessing—”
‘We would have laughed together.’
Ian gave a bitter smile and lowered his stance.
Let’s target Rutherford first. If I cannot cut down the underground god, I will at least do my part by eliminating its toy, Rutherford. Since all operations on Gaia revolve around Rutherford, removing him alone will restore natural order. And I, too, will flow with the right current.
Thwack!
As Ian leapt toward the underground god, Gypsy simultaneously tried to flee in the opposite direction, fearing being caught in the battle.
But at that moment—
“Eek!”
Someone grabbed her by the nape and waist. Startled, Gypsy turned around to see two unfamiliar figures staring at her with desperate expressions—Melania and Clark. They clung to her as if she were a divine messenger, pleading.
“Is this the rift? We saw you moving with Sir Ian earlier and followed. It’s a long story, but Sir Ian, we can help. Really.”
“Why tell me? If you can help, just say so over there! Must be nice to feel so powerful.”
“…You’re not on Ian’s side?”
“I’m not on anyone’s side—”
Swish.
As Gypsy struggled to pull Melania’s hand away, Clark pressed a dagger to her nape.
Close enough to tear flesh at any moment. Gypsy hesitated, glaring fiercely.
“…What are you doing?”
“Haven’t you seen everything? Not helping Sir Ian means you share the will of that monster. We intend to eliminate you first.”
“Ridiculous! Seriously, what are you thinking?”
Gypsy was no easy prey for mere criminals, nor a mage. The problem was she was too full—she opened her gills wide in threat, emitting all sorts of dreadful, eerie sounds.
While Melania recoiled in shock, Clark calmly pressed closer. The noise was just that—noise—but occasionally, familiar words slipped through.
‘…Toorun language?’
“And you lot, talking about helping or not helping that thing—isn’t it laughable? You’re wearing the same clothes as the dead mages.”
They had donned identical cloaks to avoid identification when infiltrating the palace.
Gypsy twisted her body, demanding to be released, while Melania summoned courage to grab her lower body again.
“There’s a reason!”
During the extermination of the Haimanga clan, Ian had spared her life. Though done to track Rutherford, it had effectively given Melania a chance. She intended to use Rutherford to return to the empire, never to defy the god’s will.
Clark was the same. Rutherford, who had taken him in back in Toorun, was his benefactor—but before that, there was Ian. The man who had brought peace to Lady Lien.
“I don’t care about that!”
“If you want compensation, at least take this. It’s a royal jewel!”
A gem taken from the palace’s exhibition hall.
Gypsy hesitated briefly, then shook her head. She lived on secrets. The sparkling stone wasn’t important; the secrets and stories tied to it were.
“I know the terms of the contract between Sir Ian and Rutherford!”
Gypsy’s indifferent response made Melania clench her eyes and shout. It seemed Ian was no longer himself. If so, only Melania and Rutherford truly knew the contract’s details.
Gypsy finally showed some interest, raising an eyebrow.
“Can I eat it?”
“Huh? Well, you should ask Sir Ian.”
Though she said that, her heart felt lighter. The secret was already lost—broken by Ian’s death in the abyss. There was no reason not to offer it as bait.
Gypsy nodded as if to accept.
“I’ll tell you the way out. But you must get through on your own. If you survive, promise me you’ll give me that secret.”
“If Sir Ian allows it.”
“I’ll persuade him. That’s the attitude of one who wants to survive.”
Melania bit her lip and cautiously agreed, while Clark sheathed his dagger. He muttered, glancing at Ian.
“Can you catch up to Sir Ian?”
“Are you crazy? It’s hard enough just taking you two along. And who’s worried about whom?”
Look at that small human standing against the underground god—how high he leaps. The traces the god left on Gaia shine brilliantly.
Gypsy tightened her hood and hurriedly moved her lower body. Slow but steadily moving out of danger. Melania and Clark clung to her back, glancing back.
Whoosh!
Bang! Bang!
Ian swung his magic sword with calm intensity. He was a warrior charging into battle, knowing death awaited, and a prophet accepting his fate.
Each arc of the magic sword sparked golden flames. Quietly, fulfilling his sacred duty with every strike, Ian gritted his teeth and pressed on.
“Pathetic.”
Crackling!
Whoosh!
The waves the underground god sent shook Ian’s body violently.
But that was all. He faltered but did not retreat. As Ian leapt into the air, a magic circle formed beneath his feet, drawing concentric rings.
Swiftly upward, higher and higher, Ian charged toward Rutherford, held captive by the underground god. Magic and hair traced his path.
Thwack!
Perhaps sensing the surge, the unconscious Rutherford frowned. The world around him distorted as if submerged underwater. What was this?
“Rutherford!”
The mysterious voice reached even the Rutherford inside the underground god.
What was happening? Hadn’t Ian killed him? As Rutherford tried to move, a familiar voice spoke.
“Do not be afraid. I am with you.”
…The god!
The god had saved him once again.
He felt his body fading. He was returning without dying. Indeed, the god had not abandoned him.
“Ruth-erford!”
Ian shouted again, gathering his strength. Holding the Idgal the god had given him, he struck fiercely, and the ground cracked like a spiderweb around them.
Then, the figure of Rutherford, who had been trapped within the underground god, became even clearer.
Whoosh!
“…!”
I won’t let go. With my own hands, I will at least seize your life. Even as the waves of the underground god threatened to drown him, Ian’s determined eyes burned fiercely.
The magic sword surged forward, as if about to slice through Rutherford’s gaze.
Slash!
Raising his hand to block was a reflex. As the divine waves tightened around Ian’s throat, a brilliant light spilled out from behind. Everything faded to pure white—Ian’s magic, Idgal’s radiance, even Rutherford himself. It was an intense light that erased everything.
Time seemed to freeze as Rutherford stared into Ian’s face, who was glaring back at him. He was saying something.
“This is __God. The one you believe in is ___…”
“…What?”
Had the noise been wiped away by the light? The latter part of the words buzzed faintly and was swallowed up, and soon Rutherford was engulfed in darkness.
A madman. To dare challenge the power of a god. A bitter laugh escaped him. Who was this person? Platinum hair, pale eyes. A dignified presence. And…
‘…A member of the royal family.’
“So, what happened next?”
As Rutherford’s words trailed off, Minister Burgos pressed him for more details. Smoking his pipe, he shrugged his shoulders.
“There’s a part I lost consciousness through. That’s all I remember.”
He didn’t mention that the true identity of the illegitimate son Ian was ‘royalty.’ Nor did he know that Ian had already been consumed by the gypsies, making it impossible to say.
“You’re certain Minister Ian will return, then? Huh, that’s troublesome. Just as news comes from Bariel that the crown prince is ascending the throne.”
“I told you, it’s fine. This is the opportunity.”
“Could it be that you mean…”
The Burgos ministers cautiously asked, hope flickering in their eyes.
For him to be so certain, it could only mean…
“Yes. The god revealed it to me. There’s a chance before this year ends.”