Chapter 752

“Ugh.”

The wizards winced, one eye squinting as they groaned. Normally, they wouldn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for a monster, but the scene before them was far beyond the usual.

Ian, drenched in the black blood of the creature, exhaled heavily and clenched his fist. Crack! Once again, the monster’s head was crushed, its remains dripping down.

“I-Ian-sama.”

“…”

“Please stop. It’s filthy.”

At Hale’s urging, Ian tilted his head and looked back. The monster’s skin in his hand was half torn off, barely holding its shape, hanging in tatters. It was a fleeting moment—driven by rage, Ian had lunged at the monster and ripped it apart.

Thud.

Ian lightly tossed the corpse aside and flicked his fingertips. Thick blood dripped down with his gesture.

The monster that had been taunting them just moments ago didn’t even twitch. Was that all it took for it to act so recklessly? Pathetic.

“A handkerchief.”

Ian approached Hale, extending his hand and nodding slightly. He wanted Hale to pull out a handkerchief from his pocket since his hands were filthy.

Hale obliged, retrieving one from his inner pocket and handing it over. Ian roughly wiped his hands and neck.

‘Ian-sama when angry is truly terrifying.’

‘Beric, do something.’

‘What can I do? Just keep quiet for now.’

The wizards and Beric exchanged glances, silently communicating. The fury Ian had just displayed was unlike anything they’d seen before—vivid, explosive, raw, an untamable blaze of emotion.

After roughly cleaning the monster’s blood, Ian lifted his head and spoke.

“I believe he’s watching.”

He was addressing the King of Toorun.

“Stop wasting time on insignificant monsters and show yourself. If you don’t, your entire palace will be wiped out. And I swear, I will kill every single one who called you king and bowed their heads to you.”

If there’s even a shred of your true self left—not just a shadow’s puppet—think of your kingdom and show yourself. This was a warning.

But the void offered no answer. Silence still hung heavy, and Ian’s voice scattered into the air.

“Ian-sama, there’s no response. Perhaps we should redirect our search toward the Northern Mountain…”

Creak!

Creak!

Then, all at once, the palace doors that had been open slammed shut. The door behind Ian and his group followed suit.

Bang!

The doors closed with such force it seemed they might shatter.

The wizards tensed, tightening their guard. In the pitch-black darkness, only faint moonlight trickled in.

Spark!

“He’s coming!”

Whoosh!

The king’s attack rained down like a storm over the wizards—dozens, hundreds, maybe thousands of needles falling as if to crush them.

Zzzing! Zing!

While the wizards maintained their protective shields, Hale, Beric, and Ian unleashed their magic to shatter the onslaught.

And then—

“Ian Hielo.”

A clear voice rang out from one side. Kuma-sha had appeared, fingers tangled in countless threads.

“Or should I call you Ian Beroshion? What do you prefer?”

White hair, pale skin, and red eyes. The child’s smaller-than-expected form startled the wizards into a brief pause. The one who had been hiding behind the puppets was such a young child?

Ian was the first to react, rushing forward.

“Nothing—”

An enemy stood before him. The source of the black seed that would save Bariel a hundred years from now.

Ian leapt into the air, twisting his waist. His fist, charged with magic, traced an arc toward the king.

“—speak that name.”

Kraaaang! Bang!

But three unfamiliar humans blocked Ian’s path—wizards. Judging by their attire, they weren’t from Toorun, nor from the empire.

“Old habits die hard.”

Mercenary wizards, procured by harassing the Toorun spirit mage families.

Their eyes were empty. Ian smiled bitterly, as if expecting this, while the king manipulated the threads on his fingertips to control all three simultaneously.

“Ian-sama! Leave this to us!”

“We’ll handle these guys!”

Though the mercenary wizards were deployed, they couldn’t use forbidden magic like before. Even when controlling Lady Darci in Luswena, the side effects were severe. If they pushed it again, without anyone filtering the magic, the burden would be overwhelming.

Zzzing! Zing!

Every clash between the wizards sent flashes of light around them. Ian entrusted his back to them and turned toward the king.

At the child’s flick of a finger, something massive—presumably a pillar—came crashing down mercilessly.

Bang! Crash! Kraaaang!

Thud!

Ian dodged the pillar, sprinted over it, and smashed it to pieces when necessary.

…The distance to the king was closing. As Ian reached out, something sparkling appeared around the child.

‘Ah.’

The threads that had sliced through Banusa alive.

Ian raised his Idgal sword to cut the threads, but Beric suddenly appeared and swung instead.

“Ian! Go!”

Right. I’m going.

They finally faced each other. There was nothing left between them. Kuma-sha calmly watched Ian approach, then lightly raised a finger.

“Beroshion.”

Ian froze. The moment the child uttered Beroshion’s name, Ian’s limbs were bound as if caught in a spider’s web. Were there more invisible threads?

The child slowly bent forward, placing a fingertip on Ian’s forehead.

“We’re in the same position, don’t you see?”

Nonsense. Ian wanted to shout “Shut up,” but strangely, his muscles felt paralyzed, unable to move.

The king’s red eyes drew closer—eyes burning like crimson flames. Though the child spoke aloud, the voice seemed to echo from deep within Ian’s mind.

“You are a pawn moving according to the will of the gods. Beroshion, you know you cannot erase the shadow. Where there is light, a shadow must fall. As long as gods exist, shadows will never die.”

I know. Yet I still fight. To prevent the shadow’s darkness from growing, I try to kill it. If I cannot kill it, I will at least cover it and fulfill my duty.

“Beroshion. When your purpose is fulfilled, the gods will erase you. Yet you still wield this sword? You must be very different from who you were before.”

I know that too.

But… there are many things I hold dear.

Vivid images flashed through Ian’s mind—the wizards’ gazes, the palace sunlight, the rustling noise of the council chamber, Beric and Romandro’s pranks, Jin’s back… as if shouting, “Don’t forget. You must not forget.”

Ian involuntarily took a deep breath.

“So, Beroshion. Stop here. If you do, the gods and shadows will maintain a proper distance and coexist, and your life will continue.”

The child’s whisper felt unbearably sweet. Time seemed to slow, and reality warped.

Ah, yes. This is—

‘It is that.’

The power of the envoy Rajoo, who had severed Beric’s head in two.

“Ian!”

Beric’s drawn-out shout echoed. At the same time, a strong grip seized Ian’s nape, yanking him backward.

And simultaneously—

Kraaaang!

A massive pillar crashed down where Ian had stood.

“…”

“Why did you stop?”

“Ah.”

Ian stood dazed, staring at his own hands.

Everything had returned to normal. The flow of time, the buzzing noise, the sweetness that had filled his heart.

Ian looked intently at Beric, who winked slyly.

“I saved your life.”

“Beric! Cut the jokes and move!”

“Ian-sama! Is something wrong?”

Kraaaang! Bang!

Ian rose and slowly rolled up his sleeves. Problem? None. There was no such thing.

“…Everyone, return to your posts and fulfill your duties.”

How foolish. To have been swayed even for a moment by that despicable creature’s words.

Was it the power of illusion? He didn’t know. But one thing was certain: if he stopped here, his Bariel would vanish.

Ian warned the wizards.

“—And don’t get too close to the king. You’ll fall into his illusions.”

“Yes, understood!”

The wizards responded energetically. Though, with the mercenary wizards to handle, they wouldn’t be able to approach anyway.

Meanwhile, Banusa kept scanning the surroundings as the wizards continued the battle. The king’s appearance meant some safety measures were in place. Just activating illusions nearby wouldn’t be enough.

‘What to do? Maybe the author…’

Ah, right. There was a model of the Toorun capital built underground. All the king’s attacks must pass through there. The falling pillars were surely attacks using that.

Banusa concealed her presence and transformed her body into liquid. She slipped through a crack in the floor and felt the vibrations ripple through her entire body.

‘I see.’

She spotted the model lying alone among scattered corpses underground.

She slipped out through the crack, landed, and examined the bodies bleeding on the ground. Each had their hearts pierced. The work of monsters?

Swish.

She turned her body but found herself staring back at the corpses. Were those monsters the ones that had torn through the bodies of the palace officials?

If that was the case, then what would come out if Ian were to strike the king? Would it just be a lingering, restless death that would consume him? Or something else…?

“Damn it.”

Boom!

The ground shook as if the entire underground was collapsing. Vanusa hunched his shoulders and drew his sword immediately, smashing the model of the capital city to pieces.

At the same moment upstairs, Ian’s Idgal sword pierced Kumasha’s heart.

Ssshhh!

Blood gushed from the child’s body, quickly soaking his white clothes. Beric and the mages all turned at the sound of the blood spurting. Was it over? Ian’s sword was still thrust straight through, so it should have been.

But Ian’s expression was strange.

And so was the bleeding king’s.

“Ian Verosion. Didn’t I warn you?”

The child muttered, gripping the Idgal sword tightly with both hands.

“This is what you brought upon yourself—!”

Boom! Thud!

The space around them twisted and condensed. Gravity intensified, pressing down on them so heavily their chests felt like they’d be crushed at any moment. Their hearts slammed shut with the weight.

No shield could withstand this. It was the power of the very fabric of space and time surrounding them. The mages dropped to their knees, forced to vomit blood.

“Ugh!”

“Gahhh!”

Gurgle—! Thud!

Ian was no different. Blood dripped steadily from the corner of his mouth.

The king, watching him closely, clenched his jaw and shattered the Idgal sword.

Clang!

Ian lost his balance, twisting his body and stepping back. From Kumasha’s hand, something thin and long shot out—amber like the Idgal, but darker, tinged with red, murky.

“Even the Idgal casts a shadow.”

It just required certain conditions.

For the first time, Kumasha took a step forward, still gripping the sword alongside Ian. Beric and the mages had no choice but to follow the child’s movements with their eyes.

“Ian!”

Crack! Boom!

At that moment, Ian’s Idgal and Kumasha’s blade clashed, and with a scorching explosion, the world flashed bright.