Chapter 760
Ian’s eyes widened.
Yes, from the Shadow’s perspective, this was the only logical choice. If his very existence bolstered the Empire’s faith, then naturally, eliminating him was the sensible course. They could have continued clashing with Ian, but that held no meaningful purpose for the Shadow.
“If the rain soaks into your body, your secret will be completely erased. It won’t take long.”
Erasure.
To strip away all the faith Ian had inspired—and even the memory of the gods themselves.
If Ian and the Empire’s forces were wiped out in that state, the war would come to an end. Tolrun would emerge victorious, and as time passed, his power would grow like a rolling snowball. Then, from Ian’s Bariel, the black seed would sprout anew and rise once more.
“Show me. Show me the sight of you so-called children of the gods bleeding and dying at my feet, before the authors!”
Dark clouds stretched beyond the horizon, blanketing all of Tolrun. Perhaps even the skies over Burgos and Bariel were the same.
Boom!
Boom boom boom!
Thunder and lightning crashed relentlessly, causing people to shrink back in fear. It seemed the underground god was up to something, but no one could guess what. Cruelly, only Ian knew what the near future held.
A single drop of rain fell.
Without realizing it, Ian raised his hand to wipe the raindrop from his cheek. So transparent, so fragile—just a touch was enough to erase him. A sharp pain rose deep within his heart.
“Rain?”
“It’s raining, isn’t it?”
“What is this all of a sudden…?”
Drip. Drop. Drip.
The rain wasn’t heavy, nor was it scattered. The Shadow knew well—if it were heavy, humans would try to avoid it; if scattered, it wouldn’t soak in deeply.
But this rain was cool and sweet enough to wash away the heat of battle in an instant. Ian instinctively touched his forehead. His hand trembled.
“Sir Ian?”
Tweller noticed Ian’s unusual state and called out cautiously. The Shadow didn’t move, so why was he in such pain?
As Tweller approached carefully, Ian turned to him, his face wet.
“Minister Tweller.”
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“…Who do you think I am?”
From Tweller’s perspective, Ian’s question was utterly unexpected. Who he was? They had shared so many days together.
“Sir Ian, are you alright?”
“…Yes, I’m fine.”
Ian barely squeezed out the words.
Even if Ian Berosion’s existence was erased here, the will of the gods would not be. They would surely win. So Ian thought there was no problem.
Yes, he consciously kept telling himself that. So Ian wrapped himself in magic and slowly charged toward the Shadow.
“Minister.”
In that moment, Tweller’s mind froze. He couldn’t explain the sensation, but it felt as if something deep in his memory was being cut away. Strange and unsettling, he couldn’t respond properly to Ian’s call.
“Hurry and cut down the remaining lives. The Shadow’s power is growing.”
There must be believers hiding underground as well. If Ian Berosion was erased, their faith would weaken one step further. So they had to quickly strike down the Shadow’s power to restore balance.
Swish!
Ian flew straight at the Shadow.
Tweller nodded belatedly and gave orders to his men. They roughly wiped the blood from their faces with the rainwater.
“Finish here and begin the search.”
“Yes, Minister!”
Slash!
The swords of the soldiers cleanly took down the last remaining believers.
For a moment, Tweller frowned uneasily as he looked back at Ian. The Shadow had clearly intended to strike here but had withdrawn its will and left. Why?
‘The believers’ faith determines victory or defeat.’
Yet it ended so easily after just one counterattack from Sir Ian. To dispel doubts about the Shadow’s actions…
‘Maybe it built faith in some other way, or it damaged our faith.’
But he didn’t know. Perhaps Ian himself knew the answer. Yes, all Tweller had to do was fulfill his duty. As always, he would do his part as Minister of the Imperial Defense of Bariel.
Shaking off his doubts, Tweller gripped his axe handle and sought a path down the fortress wall. If there was an underground refuge, it was likely beneath the walls, the plaza, or the royal palace.
‘The entrance under the palace leads to the Northern Mountain, but it’s inaccessible for now.’
That part would have to be left to the mages or magic swordsmen. Tweller led his men forward, moving with the agility of a veteran who had swung his axe hundreds of times.
Kaboom!
Bang! Boom!
Meanwhile, the thunderous sounds from the sky were ominous.
The Shadow stood still, but Ian darted around it like lightning, unleashing endless attacks—as if pouring out every last ounce of himself.
The soldiers watching cheered, pumping their fists.
“Minister Ian! Stay strong!”
“We can do this! It’s just a monster called the Shadow! The mages have the gods’ blessing!”
“Yeah, that’s right! Let’s all sing together!”
“Go—! Chaaarge!”
Boom. Boom boom. Boom.
The military band beat their drums fiercely. The soldiers sang, shouting Ian’s name repeatedly.
On the surface, morale couldn’t have been higher, but Jin, quietly observing, was gripped by a sense of unease.
“Your Majesty, it’s the rain of the monsters. Should we take shelter for a moment?”
“No. Just as Eirin did, I will stand with everyone. Ian hasn’t said to be cautious, so don’t worry. This little rain.”
Jin firmly refused Xiaosi’s urging, all the while watching Ian’s movements with grave concern.
“But doesn’t something feel off?”
“Isn’t it a tough opponent?”
“That’s true, but…”
Jin held back his words. This wasn’t the Ian he knew. His attacks weren’t calm and calculated, but hurried…
He’s desperate. It feels like he’s thrashing to escape.
But what could he know from below? He could only guess, as Xiaosi said, ‘He’s struggling because of the opponent.’ It pained him that he couldn’t help, but everyone had their role.
“Eirin!”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Eirin responded reflexively to the emperor’s call. The cross embroidered on her sleeve was unusually dark—the monster’s blood had dried there. Jin handed her a magical amplifier and made a request.
“We need the paladin’s prayers.”
“…Of course.”
“Pray when the nation ends.”
They would keep crying out, keep praying.
Even if only one survived in the end, that person must continue singing and praying. It was the honor owed to the warriors risking their lives against the Shadow god, and the last dignity of the Empire’s army.
“Captain Hale, how much longer?”
Jin’s question went unanswered for a moment. The mages were frantically setting up and erasing magic circles, desperately trying to perform a spell they had only practiced once. Hale spread his palm.
“…Sorry. We’ll finish within five minutes.”
Battle magic circles usually activate within seconds. On the battlefield, every moment counted, so anything longer was practically useless.
But five minutes… Considering they had started preparations earlier, it meant drawing the circle took up to ten minutes. Jin immediately understood how difficult this was.
Kaboom! Bang!
Hale focused again on the magic circle. His eyes were on the circle, but he could sense something strange about Ian’s energy from afar.
He’s faltering.
For some reason, Ian had lost his composure and was raging like a wildfire. It was unsettling. The situation was definitely bad. Hale exhaled tensely and concentrated on completing the circle.
“Ahahaha!”
Then, a clear, pure, yet somehow fragile childlike laugh echoed from the palace.
The King of Tolrun clutched his belly, laughing wildly, ignoring the murderous gazes of the mages and magic swordsmen around him.
“…Captain Jarrett.”
“Why? Why is he like that?” The soldiers called out, but Jarrett calmly gathered himself. Rainwater continued to drip down his chin.
I must not be deceived.
Finding out why the king was so distracted would have to wait.
Jarrett drew his sword in a flash and charged at the King of Tolrun. Beric and the others simultaneously closed in, surrounding him.
“Ah. How pathetic.”
The king wiped a tear from his eye and lightly twisted his body to dodge the magic swordsmen’s attacks. Their blades naturally converged, forming a tight circle.
Ziiing! Ziiing!
Above them, the mages prepared. A magic circle suddenly appeared, tightening around the king’s body, while the magic swordsmen’s blades flew again, aiming for the child’s heart. There was nowhere left to dodge.
Swish! Slash!
Chaaang!
But the red Idgal sprouting from the child’s body shattered the magic circle with ease and even deflected the attacks from the magic swordsmen. All of this happened in an instant.
…This isn’t human movement. Captain Jaret thought so. Resigned, he tore off his uniform.
“Don’t worry about friend or foe. Just cut them down.”
When enemies and allies are tangled together, hesitation breeds openings—and the king’s small frame was perfect for slipping through those gaps. They had to be bolder, even if it meant risking friendly fire. That was Jaret’s judgment.
Meanwhile, the child smiled calmly, looking toward Ian, and Beric found that very act strangely irritating and unsettling.
“Damn it, keep splitting apart…”
“What’s so funny?”
“What the hell are you laughing at, you bastard!”
“Beric! Now’s not the time—”
Jaret was about to scold him, insisting that this wasn’t important right now.
“Do you know who Ian is?”
“What?”
“Ian. Ian. Ian. The one you all follow and worship as a god. I asked if you know who Ian really is.”
What kind of nonsense was that all of a sudden? Beric was so taken aback he answered without thinking.
“I-Ian is Ian. What’s with the cryptic crap? You trying to die?”
“Ah, I see.”
Ian____
Ian____?
For a moment, it felt as if something inside their minds was being cut away. An indescribable sense of loss… Though they were in the middle of battle and kept their faces steady, a strange unease suddenly crept over them, leaving them quite unsettled.
Especially Beric.
‘…Ian is Ian. But why?’
Why? What is it? Why does something feel off?
As Beric’s gaze wavered, the child couldn’t hold back their laughter any longer. Enraged, Beric amplified his magic and summoned a blazing greatsword.
“Don’t laugh… dammit!”
Rumble! Thud!
Flash!
At the same time, Jaret’s lightning descended from the sky into his hand. Everyone braced themselves for battle.
“……”
King Toorun knew well that if they all attacked together, it would be overwhelming.
“Pfft—!”
But he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.
Ah, such pitiful and ridiculous creatures.
“Ahahaha!”
With a tilt of his head, Kumasha laughed, and the magic swordsmen surged forward with renewed attacks.
In that instant, the king’s gaze caught the dark sky and a black shadow in a single glance.
And the boy with those shining golden eyes, brighter than ever before. The thought that the rain soaking the earth might actually be his tears made the king’s chest tighten with a strange flutter.