Episode 551
The air was thick with the sticky, foul stench unique to the monsters, and Ian raised his sleeve to cover his lower face. It was like staring at a massive waterfall made of filth.
Gliding smoothly through the air, he scanned for the source of the rift. Surely, there had to be some trace of it within the flow of the monsters…
Whoosh!
Every time Ian brushed past, the monsters lifted their heads and followed him. To Ian, they were nothing but a stench to be avoided, but to them, he must have seemed like a sweet, pure crystal of magical energy.
“Ah.”
There it was.
Among the monsters, broken black swords lay scattered. It seemed the Atan tribe had used them to lure the monsters, and Jerat had intercepted them. That meant the rift was nearby.
Ian lowered his altitude and soon heard a familiar voice.
“Ian.”
It was the Underworld God. The rift must have widened more than expected. To dare show himself on Gaia’s land…
‘…How arrogant.’
Ian frowned and glanced around before lightly raising his hands. From his fingertips, beams of light shone brightly and scattered.
They formed concentric circles, bursting into geometric patterns that seemed to move and spin as if alive.
“Manyo (Ten Thousand Leaves).”
Since the rift could be stimulated, the goal was to resolve the situation in a single attempt. For that, a stronger and more precise power was necessary. Ian carefully adjusted the magic circle and brought his hands together.
Kugung!
Koong!
His right hand connected with the earth on the right, his left with the earth on the left. If there was a rift, couldn’t he just seal it back together?
As the World Tree’s roots spread and the earth shifted, Ian suddenly hesitated. Something was blocking him.
“Come closer.”
“Shut up. Return to your place.”
Ian immediately recognized the power of the Underworld God. Laughter echoed from all directions, and in response, the monsters howled.
“See? The god tried to stop me, but here I am, alive and speaking to you. The moment I fully step outside the rift, I will no longer be a shadow of the god—I will exist as my own being.”
What should he do?
Ian withdrew his magic, deep in thought. The god surely knew the way, and Ian himself likely did too. Everything was a moment in fate flowing according to the god’s will. Even standing here to resolve this was part of that.
‘What could it be? What did the god want to tell me?’
The wind blew relentlessly, and the monsters’ ferocity only grew stronger. Ian glanced down at his palm and muttered to himself.
“Idgal.”
If he could create an Idgal, and use it to fill the massive rift, wouldn’t that solve everything? Bastard Ian knew how to do it—he had done it before.
‘Think. Bastard Ian, remember the clues the god left you.’
Countless memories swirled in his mind—from the moment he opened his eyes in Bratz, to the time he met the god in the abyss and shared warmth.
Suddenly, he recalled the papers he’d seen in Bastard Ian’s room. At first, he thought they were just writing practice, but they were clearly in an unfamiliar language.
What had he thought when he saw them?
‘They’re letters, right? There’s a pattern, so something’s definitely written…’
Pattern!
Ian raised his hand again and, on the outer edge of the concentric circles—where the incantation was—he carefully traced the pattern from memory.
The magic circle began to glow faintly, then started to spin.
‘Is this the right place?’
If not, then the other side.
The magic circle shone brighter.
Swish.
Ian kept recalling and refining the pattern, and with each correction, the magic circle’s light turned golden. It was a sign he was on the right path.
Before long, the pattern was etched into his fingertips, and the magic circle spun, ready to activate.
Ziiing!
Ziiing!
He moved instinctively.
Ian approached the rift and stretched out both hands. From him, a massive amber wave rippled outward, spreading over the monsters, sealing the rift, and slowly solidifying.
…It was a colossal Idgal.
Kyaaak!
Kkiek! Kkieeek!
“…!”
The monsters’ howls were different now—coming from all directions. The ones immobilized by the Idgal’s branches.
Those who escaped scattered in a mad rush, and in an instant, the area around the rift was clear.
Thud.
Ian lightly landed atop the Idgal and slowly passed over the frozen monsters, checking for any problems.
Surprisingly, the magic consumption was almost nothing. Instead, a warm, satisfying sensation seemed to fill his entire body.
“Can you hear me?”
Ian looked down at the opaque Idgal and peered inside the rift.
Only an endless dark space stretched out, and there was no trace of the monsters that had tried to come through.
“Sorry, I can’t hear you from here.”
Chaeng! Chang!
Pfoooong!
Meanwhile, Beric and Jerat’s magic swords blazed hotter than ever, each aiming for the other’s neck.
In the blink of an eye, two or three exchanges flew back and forth, and the surrounding explosions and thunderous sounds caused the monsters to fall helplessly.
“Old man! Snap out of it!”
Kwang!
Every time Beric called him “old man,” there was a slight reaction—though the magic only grew fiercer, which was the problem.
Beric struck down a lightning bolt from the sky with his sword and then lunged at Jerat.
Pwaaak!
“Ugh!”
His attack was blocked, and he took a blow to the temple from Jerat’s opposite elbow.
Beric screamed and tumbled, landing on the ground. The watching mages winced as if they had been hit themselves. If he were an ordinary person, he’d be dead right there.
They grabbed the dragon’s horn and approached Beric.
“Should we just leave him like that?”
“Yeah. Beric! Need help?”
“My magic’s low, but I can hold him for a bit with speed magic!”
-Kyuuuu!
But Beric waved them off, saying he was fine. Spitting, he rolled and bit his tongue, blood mixing with his saliva.
“Enough. Just watch!”
“We were watching just fine, but it hurts to see you like this! Don’t be reckless—are you really okay?”
“Hey! This isn’t recklessness, it’s confidence! Someday—”
Pfoong! Bang!
Beric bared his teeth and swung his greatsword wide. Flames spiraled from his magic sword, perfectly encasing Jerat.
“I thought I could beat the old man! But! Today’s not that day!”
He would break him. No matter what.
If he didn’t, Jerat would die by Ian’s hand.
Beric knew well that Jerat loved honor as much as he loved meat. He couldn’t let Jerat die here. He couldn’t let him be recorded as a traitor who swung his sword against his homeland, brainwashed by monsters.
His death had to be recorded inside the Imperial Guard building, with his badge.
Swoosh!
Jerat was the strongest opponent he’d ever clashed swords with.
“Old-! Man-! Dang-!”
But he was strong too. Always pushing past his limits, always achieving what he wanted in battle.
So he would do so now. He would take a step forward, defeat Jerat, and protect him.
“When you come to your senses later, just wait and see!”
So just come back.
Come back, and let’s go together.
“Captain Bonita! The number of monsters seems to be decreasing!”
“Yes, same here. The flow is slowing down!”
“Just a little more! Just a little more and we’ll be done!”
“Everyone, don’t lower your swords until the end! Not a single monster can cross into the northern zone! Even low-level monsters are deadly to our people! If you don’t fight like your life depends on it here, our people will die later!”
“Beric! How’s Captain Jerat?”
“Don’t know, damn it! Same as before!”
Chaeng! Chang!
Had Ian sealed the rift? The monster numbers had dropped sharply, so something must have changed over there—
“…”
But Captain Jerat still charged forward with lifeless eyes.
Suddenly, Beric’s heart sank. What if he never came back like this? Beyond brainwashing—what if his mind was completely broken?
‘Ah.’
Fear. This was fear.
Beric let out a small gasp as if realizing something and moved closer to Jerat. His sword moved fiercely, aiming for Beric’s vital points.
‘Beric. Feel this well. Swords carry emotion.’
‘What nonsense.’
Clang!
‘More precisely, emotion is in the attack. Even if the swing follows the same path, the result changes depending on the feeling behind it.’
‘You’re just dressing up the obvious. Of course it’s different—swinging madly angry isn’t the same as swinging just a little angry.’
‘Then what do you think this is?’
Swoosh!
Beric suddenly recalled his training with Jerat.
Had Jerat ever felt fear from his attacks? No. Jerat had never once feared his sword.
Then, what was Jerat’s emotion now?
Chaeng!
Pfoooong!
Beric fully absorbed the attacks, focusing intently. The relentless strikes were rougher and more reckless than usual. It was emotion—Jerat’s feelings hidden within the power.
‘Huh.’
Suddenly sensing what had been invisible before felt strange—like being backed against a cliff, raw and desperate, every movement sharp and fierce.
Beric was puzzled. Never before, not even now, had Jarrett ever acted like this toward him.
Could he be seeing me differently somehow?
What on earth was going on that made Jarrett—
Swish!
A sharp pain sliced into Beric’s side. Heat flared beneath his skin, and he shook off the distracting thoughts, twisting his body in one swift motion.
Gradually, their magical swords began to fade, the energy within them draining away. Their inner reserves of magic were running dry. Jarrett must have noticed it too, because with a final surge of strength, he swung his blade at Beric once more.
Thud!
“Beric!”
“Captain!”
Their attacks pierced each other’s stomachs at the same time. The mages closed their eyes tightly and looked away, while the palace guards gasped in shock.
Beric was already wounded in the abdomen. No matter how strong he was, this was a fatal blow.
Shhhhk!
The swords that had pierced through their bodies crumbled into dust and vanished—their magic completely exhausted.
Both men staggered but barely stayed on their feet. Sweat cold on his brow, Beric clutched his wound.
“Damn it…”
Pain flared again, stabbing at the injury.
Beric gritted his teeth and threw a punch at Jarrett.
Thwack!
Jarrett swayed heavily but instinctively countered. They exchanged blows, blood spilling as they fought fiercely. After a chaotic struggle, Beric managed to pin Jarrett down and kept pounding his fists into him.
Thwack! Thud!
“Why won’t you snap out of it? I’m doing this for you!”
Ian’s coming soon, damn old man.
Jarrett’s empty eyes stayed locked on Beric’s. Then, suddenly, a single tear traced down the wrinkles on his face. Beric hesitated, and his fists dropped weakly.
“What are you seeing?”
What’s tormenting you so much?
Beric buried his face in Jarrett’s shoulder, breathing heavily. Their blood mixed, soaking their clothes.
“…This is driving me crazy.”
But there was no other choice.
Beric wrapped his hand around Jarrett’s neck, slowly applying pressure. He could feel the faint pulse of life beneath his fingertips. Like Jarrett, Beric shed a tear that slipped down his nose.
“Let’s think of it as just a nap. Okay? And when you wake up, you better, better give me hell for making you like this.”