Chapter 753
The shattered fragment of Idgal caught the light and sparkled. It brushed past Ian’s cheek, leaving behind a faint scratch.
“Idgal has a shadow too?” The golden and red eyes glared at each other as if ready to devour one another. Around them, a massive, undulating energy pulsed. The mages and Beric dared not approach, their gazes fixed on Ian.
“So then—”
If Idgal has a shadow, then I must have one too. Is that you? Just as the gods sent me, the shadow sent you, didn’t it? That seems like a reasonable deduction.
Ian used the strength of his waist to shove the king’s attack away.
Fwoosh!
“Let’s see if you can keep up all the way.”
Ian’s other fist shot toward Kumasha’s face with such speed it seemed like teleportation.
Kumasha’s eyes widened, but the child reflexively ducked just in time to avoid the blow.
Thud!
As if expecting this, Ian drove his knee into the child’s chest, then grabbed a handful of hair with his other hand and slammed him against the wall.
Crash!
The palace trembled, dust swirling in the air. The mages glanced up as chalky powder rained down from the ceiling. If this battle continued like this, the entire palace would collapse before long.
“Hah… hah…”
Ian panted, putting distance between himself and the king. Just as the hallucinatory magic tried to ensnare him again, a faint vibration rippled through the air.
The mages sensed something unusual and focused their gaze on the floor.
“I-Ian-sama.”
“…An earthquake.”
An earthquake.
They knew better than anyone the connection between these tremors and the appearance of rifts and monsters. It had happened in the northern monster zones, and in the capital of Clifford as well.
Ian furrowed his brow in frustration.
‘The power is growing.’
Not just the physical strength to repel attacks, but the momentum, the energy. He could subtly feel something invisible lending power to the child. Kumasha might feel it too, for all he knew.
“…Set up a barrier.”
After a moment of silence, Ian ordered.
If there was a rift or passage connected to the underground here, the best course was to seal this place completely—cutting off all access in or out.
But doing so would kill everyone inside. Their protective shields would have to be withdrawn. It was essentially an order to sacrifice themselves.
Ziiing! Ziiing!
Still, the mages expanded their protective shields without hesitation, propping up the palace ceiling. This made it easier for the king’s “invisible attacks” to slip through, but there was no other choice.
“Reinforce the connection to the floor!”
“Captain Hale! I’ll take this side!”
If a rift opened underground, they were the first line of defense.
As the mages isolated the grand hall they stood in from the rest of the palace, Beric gripped his sword tightly, sharpening his senses. His blade was the only means to protect the mages.
“Beric! Stay focused and protect us!”
“Shut up! I’m already on edge!”
“You’re ridiculous. We’re the ones using the magic, so why you?”
Wiiiiiing!
The barrier grew stronger, taking shape. It was the same kind they had erected when Rutherford invaded the palace—an impenetrable seal that muffled sounds both inside and out, and prevented any information from leaking.
“…Damn it.”
Beric wrinkled his nose, recalling unpleasant memories.
Meanwhile, Ian continued clashing swords with the crimson Idgal, his mind racing.
‘If I get too close, hallucinations start. If I keep my distance, I can’t land a hit. He’s perfectly absorbing Idgal’s power.’
A tricky opponent.
‘There must be conditions to forming a shadow.’
What could they be? Figuring that out was the priority.
‘If I think in terms of puppetry…’
The first condition for a puppeteer’s attack is sharing the same timeline. The second is visualizing the target’s space. Ignoring minor details, that’s the big picture.
‘Then, creating a shadow might be similar.’
Ian thought of Philia. Torlun hadn’t tried to bring his mother to his base.
‘It’s a spatial limitation.’
Meaning it could only happen in certain places—like the palace or the temple.
‘What about the timeline?’
Besides sharing the present, what else could Kumasha and I have in common?
“Ah.”
Ian suddenly gasped, as if a realization struck him.
Because of the gods, and because of the shadow, they had shared a timeline even before they were born.
‘We’re becoming more alike.’
Kumasha, having blocked Ian’s attack, countered with a similar stance. The child’s eyes grew colder, his swordsmanship precise and efficient.
If Ian started using magic here—
‘…I don’t know.’
He couldn’t be sure of victory.
The monsters mimicking mages had shown their power briefly. Kumasha might perfectly replicate him.
The more Ian thought, the more complicated it became. He kept summoning shattered Idgal fragments, aiming for the king’s heart.
Shhaaak!
‘One strike.’
That might be the answer for now. Finish it in one blow before the opponent can copy me.
Ian planted his feet firmly and slammed the Idgal shard he held onto the ground.
Chaaeng!
The Idgal shattered in two.
The mages supporting the barrier glanced at Ian, puzzled. But when their leader respectfully clasped his hands and began drawing a magic circle, their hearts dropped.
‘He’s drawing a magic circle.’
‘W-we’re d-done for.’
You, me, all of us.
Every time Ian drew the magic circle’s formula instead of a simple incantation, he pushed his limits—and sometimes surpassed them, setting new standards of power far beyond the mages’ understanding.
Hale spat out the cigarette he’d been holding and shouted,
“Hold on!”
Ziiing! Ziiing!
The magic circle glowed brighter, and Ian’s hair fluttered lightly. The king simply held the Idgal, watching, a faint smile playing on his lips—whether mocking or pleased, no one could tell.
“Mancheon (萬千).”
The world darkened.
Everything but their bodies was swallowed by shadow.
The mages closed their eyes, pretending not to see their softly glowing forms. Beric’s mouth hung slightly open, as if he were floating in the middle of the cosmos. Tiny sparkles filled the world.
“Wow—”
But the wonder was brief—
Like a meteor, the lights began to slowly spin clockwise. Kumasha charged at Ian, who was chanting a spell, and Beric stepped in front to block.
Shhaaak!
Pwoooong! Bang!
Responding to the noise, the swirling meteors gathered, growing larger. They were falling toward them—slowly but surely. Their trajectory pointed straight at the king.
“…Ian Verosion.”
The king drew out the crimson Idgal, ready to cut down the meteors. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but he wasn’t about to stand still and die. If he could endure and win, he’d strike a meteor into that brat’s head next.
“Ian!”
Beric twisted his sword in front of Ian, who kept muttering magic spells.
Then—
Wuuuuuuung—!
“It’s coming.”
The darkened world brightened as if the shadows would vanish.
Kumasha kept summoning Idgal fragments endlessly, blocking the way. But the meteors pressed down harder, advancing like a child’s reckless game of crushing ants. Like the needle attack he’d launched at General Bariel.
“Farewell.”
Beric said, and everything vanished without form.
Ian narrowed his eyes, and the others instinctively turned away and closed theirs. The light was so intense it felt like it would steal everything.
“…!”
At that moment, something foreign caught Ian’s eye. Dark shapes began to seep into the bright world.
They were shadows. There was no need to wonder whose—they belonged to Kumasha.
Whoooosh!
The child’s shadow stretched long, growing so large it filled the space.
It was pure darkness. With a mere flick of his hand, he blocked the meteors. The once blinding light began to fade, and the darkness seeped to the edges of the mages’ barrier.
Crack!
“Ah!”
“No! Hold on!”
The shadow’s power thrashed wildly, trying to break free. Beric pressed close to Ian, lowering his stance protectively.
Dudududu—
Boom!
The building shook as if twisted by an earthquake. The mages struggled desperately to hold back the darkness, but it was a futile resistance. Ian lifted his head.
Craaaack!
Chaaeng!
The barrier shattered completely. The palace ceiling was torn away, and darkness and Ian’s light spilled out through every crack. Like a bound wind finally freed, it surged wildly outward.
“……”
Ian slowly looked up.
A figure took shape—human in form but not human, monstrous yet awe-inspiring.
“…So that’s the shadow of the god.”
Beric, who had been blocking Ian, muttered. No one needed to say it aloud; it was an instinctive truth. Ian, that was what you faced in the abyss—the true history behind all these calamities that had unfolded until now.
The man’s head shifted slightly, and he looked down. That small movement froze everyone in place. It was the natural reaction of mere mortals witnessing a transcendent being—pure, primal fear.
“Hah—”
This was on a completely different level from the chaos that had erupted when the secret-eating gypsy’s belly was slit open. The mages all took a step back, their faces pale with terror, eyes fixed on the figure’s every move.
—Ian Verosion.
A resonance that stopped hearts.
Ian slowly rose to his feet. Unlike the mages, a faint smile played on his lips.
“Just as expected from a shadow—how amusing your antics are.”
Just as a god had intervened when the shadow tried to swallow Ian in the abyss, now on the earth, when Ian tried to consume Kumasha, the shadow itself had risen to oppose him.
Ian nodded as if pleased.
“This time, I won’t let you escape.”
As light and darkness spilled from the palace, the eerie silence shattered.
They still didn’t realize why no presence had been sensed inside the palace—it was all thanks to the mages’ protective barrier.
Of course, there was no time to even consider that.
“Eek! Th-that’s—”
“What is that? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Mage! Is that a monster?”
“No, it’s unlike any monster I know. That… that must be—”
The Bariel main force was thrown into chaos. Something even larger than the magic tower had appeared nearby.
Jin was equally stunned, too shocked to speak. Only Eirin’s quiet murmur gave those around her an answer.
“…It’s a shadow. The shadow of a god.”
The source of all monsters, the master of the abyss.
Without realizing it, Jin clenched his collar tightly and swallowed hard. That monstrous presence was the shadow of a god. Overwhelmed by a being beyond imagination, even the title of Emperor felt unbearably small.
“Your Majesty.”
At that moment, Eirin’s resolute voice snapped him back to reality.
“Please remain calm and give your orders. This is the moment on which the fate of Sir Ian and everyone else depends.”