Chapter 763
As the arrow flew straight ahead, a line of light stretched across the empty air like a horizon forming out of nowhere.
It wasn’t aiming at the shadow itself. No—it sought to firmly grasp the shadow and burn the World Tree that encircled it.
Ssshhh!
Flames roared and crackled, spreading instantly up and down, engulfing the entire World Tree.
With Ian’s own flames added to the mix, the mages struggled to hold their ground, staggering under the strain. Blood trickled down their faces, soaking their tunics so thoroughly that even rain couldn’t wash it away.
“Ugh, damn it.”
“Damn! Damn! Damn!”
“It’s okay! We can do this! Keep holding on!”
“We live or die together—no one gets left behind!”
“Waaah!”
The World Tree was a kind of framework—a cage to trap the shadow and a support to surround it with light.
How could a shadow raise its head in the presence of light? This was the primary foundation and attack, forcing the sacred light to constantly shine upon the creature.
The fingertips of the mages connected to the magic circles trembled violently. One wrong move, and it felt as if every organ inside their bodies would burst under the pressure.
-This won’t be enough!
Rumble! Roar!
The underground god twisted its body fiercely, trying to shake off the World Tree’s grip. Despite its mocking tone, it seemed to struggle more than expected to break free.
Seeing this, the mages exchanged hopeful glances. Hold on. If we hold on, we win! The fading magic exploded anew, and the branches of the World Tree grew stronger.
The magic swordsmen looked up and asked,
“What can we do to help?”
“Just keep doing what you’re doing! Cut off the demonic energy leaking out so we can keep using our power!”
Swish!
As the mages spun their magic circles in the air, the swordsmen stepped on the burning World Tree, circling the shadow god. Surprisingly, it wasn’t hot at all. As they sliced through the air, the flames flickered and blazed even higher.
-No way!
The shadow’s power grew stronger. The calm, confident demeanor it had when mimicking the god was gone.
Ian clasped his hands together, then spread them apart, muttering,
“Right. A spell like this is nothing to you.”
Then,
“How about this?”
Ziiing! Ziiing!
Ian swiftly traced magic circles with his fingertips.
“Clone.”
And again.
“Clone.”
“Clone.”
“Clone.”
“Clone.”
Around Ian, five massive magic circles formed concentric rings. The divine script inscribed within them shimmered and flickered, soon taking on human shapes. They were all Ian.
Among the six Ians, it wasn’t hard to tell which was the original—the one bleeding endlessly.
The mages glanced at Ian, then instinctively squeezed their eyes shut. They already knew what activation word would come from his lips next.
“Recall.”
A spell that borrows power from one’s future self. The strength that had been divided six ways by the clones surged back to full. Six complete Ians. A golden aura exploded outward like a burst of light.
“How…?”
The mages sighed, not with admiration but with worry. They had witnessed this spell a few times before and knew its consequences better than Ian himself. The caster’s memories were wiped as they hovered on the brink of death, but the mages had watched from the sidelines.
‘After all that suffering…’
Cloning was manageable, but recall was deadly. During the battle at Luswena, even casting recall on a single clone had caused terrible aftereffects.
This time, the recall was on six clones. It was beyond what a human body could endure.
‘Will he survive?’
Even if Ian seals that shadow creature, will he live on? No matter how infinite his power, casting recall like this must have an end.
But Ian didn’t stop there. He raised his hands and created one magic circle after another.
“Divine Palm.”
“Divine Palm.”
“Divine Palm.”
“Divine Palm”…
He didn’t stop. In an instant, dozens, then hundreds of magic circles filled the sky like a constellation. Yes, the sight was like gazing up at a vast star cluster.
The imperial soldiers watching were overwhelmed with a sense of awe, as if floating in the heart of the cosmos. The world fell silent, and it felt as if only their own heartbeat remained.
“Ian!”
“Go! We’ll follow you!”
The mages shouted, lending him their strength. Ian’s final battle had far surpassed all limits of reason. Believing this might truly be the last moment, they couldn’t hold back their tears.
“Iaaaan!”
“We can do this, Commander!”
“We’re with you!”
“For the Bariel Empire!”
“Long live Bariel!”
The magic swordsmen cried out in exhilaration. The imperial soldiers’ anthem rose slowly, and at the same time, hundreds of golden Divine Palms rained down from the sky.
The shadow god watched silently. As it raised its hand to push them away like before, the mages’ World Tree tightened its grip even deeper.
Crack!
Snap! Crackle!
The beautiful, delicate touch of the celestial realm slowly closed in on the shadow god. They held it gently, as if comforting something pitiful. Hands covered hands, then long fingers filled every gap—no trace of darkness could escape.
-You bastard…!
Fsssh! Fsssh!
The shadow’s form began to fade, purified by the sacred energy as the darkness diluted. The Divine Palms crushed the darkness softly but decisively.
Ssshhh!
Ian stifled a surge of nausea, pressing his hand to his mouth. Thin blood flowed endlessly. His entire body twisted in pain. His mind grew faint, and his senses dulled sharply.
Yet Ian’s posture remained upright. Raising his hands and pressing his palms together, the space around him became a perfect vacuum.
Wooooooosh!
Crack! Screeeech!
The Divine Palms squeezed the darkness like clay, cracking it everywhere. Suddenly, Ian’s vision flashed white.
In the moment of absolute nothingness, his golden eyes turned pale as if blinded.
“Return to the abyss.”
—Ian! Do you think I’ll just back down like this?
“That is your world. If you wish to show yourself again, only raise your head after countless eons have passed. Then Bariel will face you once more, backed by the blessings of the gods.”
The earth trembled. It felt like the world was splitting in two. The darkness, swallowed by light, tore itself apart in desperate flight, but soon faded away.
Kugugugugung!
Gugugugugu!
A storm of light and darkness erupted. The soldiers dropped to their knees, and Jin instinctively shielded Eirin’s head. The mages clung to each other, bracing against the chaos, while the magic swordsmen planted their blades and stood firm.
Finally, as the Divine Palms shattered into pieces—
Ziiing!
The world was bathed in blinding white light. So bright that not even an inch ahead could be seen. Everyone instinctively squeezed their eyes shut and held their breath.
Ian felt warm sunlight pouring over his face. He sensed someone’s knees beneath his head—he was lying with his head resting on them. A fresh scent of grass filled the air, and a gentle breeze teased his hair.
Someone lightly stroked his cheek—a comforting touch. Ian smiled without realizing it.
“Ian.”
A voice he longed to hear. Ah, it was Philia.
He tried to open his eyes, but the brightness was too much. Philia gently placed her hand over his eyelids and whispered softly.
He couldn’t quite catch the words, but they were clearly words of comfort. Otherwise, the tears wouldn’t have welled up so strongly.
“…Mother.”
The boy raised his hand and grasped Philia’s hand, rubbing his cheek against it. Without a word, Philia smiled.
“No matter what anyone says, you are my son, Ian.”
That’s true for me too. No matter what anyone says, even if I were to travel back through time, my mother would still be you. Tears streamed down Ian’s face.
“My beloved Ian.”
Philia’s voice came close, warm and tender.
“Everyone loves you.”
She added that if he kept that in mind, he would be able to overcome whatever lay ahead.
Ian didn’t know why she said that. He just nodded and nestled into her embrace. Gradually, the warmth of the sunlight faded, along with Philia’s faint laughter.
Swish.
Ian opened his eyes. The sky, once filled with dark clouds, had cleared to a brilliant blue. Not a single cloud marred the crystal-clear expanse, making everything feel like a dream.
He raised his damp hand. His sleeve was torn and his skin blackened from burns. The wounds were real—this was no illusion.
‘The shadow?’
Ian turned his head slightly, surveying the area. The ruins of the palace lay shattered and scattered all around.
A massive chasm had opened where the ground had collapsed—dozens of meters wide and just as deep. It was the mark of the underground god’s manifestation and subsequent sealing.
“Ah…”
Ian carefully pushed himself up. His skull throbbed as if it might shatter, and above all, breathing was a struggle. It felt like all his vital organs, especially his heart, had taken serious internal damage.
“This isn’t going to be easy.”
It wasn’t just him exaggerating; even taking a single step was a monumental effort. Eventually, Ian sank back down, letting out a heavy sigh as he stared up at the mountain of rubble piled before him. What was he supposed to do now? He had no strength left to climb, and his magical energy was completely drained.
Then, suddenly—
“Iaaaan!”
A familiar voice called out from afar. It was Berrick. The moment he regained consciousness, the first thing he did was shout Ian’s name.
“Ian! Where are you?”
“Ian! Please answer me!”
“Stay alive, damn it! Please stay alive!”
Soon after, the desperate voices of the Magic Corps joined in. Beyond the debris, the sound of footsteps grew steadily closer.
“Ian!”
“Iaaaan!”
Above, a rainbow stretched across the sky. The rain had stopped, the sun had risen, and a bridge seemed to span from one end of the world to the other. Ian quietly looked up at it and said,
“…Here.”
“Huh? Did you just say something?”
“Ian? Is that you?”
“Here? Are you sure?”
“Berrick, you’re the expert at finding people, right?”
“That was a long time ago, man.”
A shadow fell over the rubble—a warm shadow. Then Berrick and the mages who had come searching for Ian peeked out. When they confirmed Ian was alive and well, tears welled up in their eyes, and their faces lit up with bright smiles.
“Ian!”
“Iaaaan!”
They ran forward, stumbling and nearly falling over the debris. Their own conditions didn’t look much better.
“What about the Shadow God?”
“He’s gone. When I opened my eyes, the world was clear!”
“Ian, are you okay? You don’t look well.”
“I wish I could share some magic with you, but embarrassingly, I’m completely drained. Ha ha… ha…”
Shadows don’t die. They simply vanish. That thing will dive back into the abyss and, sooner or later, greedily rear its head again.
But for now, there was no need to think about that. When the time comes, Bariel will rise again to carry the will forward.
Ian smiled faintly and nodded.
“…Yes. It’s done. That’s enough.”
He had driven back the Shadow God, killed King Toorun, and destroyed the source of the Black Seed. He had achieved the goal he had pursued across a century. Ian decided to savor that satisfaction deeply, nodding repeatedly.
“Sir Ian!”
Then, hearing his name called again, he lifted his head. It was Jin. The moment Jin saw Ian was safe with his own eyes, he bit his lip in relief.
“Your Majesty.”
“You’ve been through a lot. You’ve done well.”
“This was a victory we all achieved together. Your Majesty, you’re incredible.”
“Don’t say that. I’m endlessly grateful and ashamed.”
Jin extended his hand as if to help him up, and Ian cautiously took it. His skin had turned blackened and grotesque, but no one cared.
Supporting Ian, Jin climbed up onto the rubble. Ian, finally raising his head, widened his eyes.
“Wooooah!”
“We won! We won! We’re alive!”
“Bariel! Bariel!”
The victorious imperial soldiers embraced one another, sharing their joy without reservation. Seeing Ian alive, they cheered again and rushed forward. Thousands of soldiers pumped their fists in the air, singing their anthem.
Ba-ri-el!
The dawn of glory cradled by the gods—
The heart of Gaia, turning golden when the rain falls—
Raise your heads high, and you will see—
The light above, the beacon of Bariel—