Luraka couldn’t understand.
Before him stood an Outer God with black skin and four arms.
A being who had devoured countless humans without hesitation and who, with a single punch, had toppled Caliban’s forward base—an entity of incomprehensible power.
That sa figure, without a doubt, now stood with its back to the ashen world.
It received the fear and reverence of all the barbarians as if it were only natural.
And yet.
[You… how are you here?]
Luraka rubbed his eyes.
He had to confirm whether what he was seeing was real.
He rubbed them over and over again.
Yet, Outer God who had obliterated the forward base with a single strike was trembling.
It was even stamring.
Betraying the reverence it had gathered upon itself, it was now displaying fear—toward the being standing before it.
The situation was so incomprehensible that he couldn’t even form a question.
“….”
There was no ti to process it.
‘Just what kind of being—’
The girl smiled.
Yutia Bludia, who until now had kept her mouth shut in silence, turned to Outer God standing before her, and with a gentle smile, raised a single finger.
Then.
Pop—!
Outer God, who had just been trembling monts ago, had its head burst open.
The overwhelming and awe-inspiring power it had once shown to the barbarians suddenly seed like a lie.
Its end ca too easily—too futilely.
At that mont, a profound sense of emptiness filled the eyes of the barbarians.
Splat—
The headless body of the collapsing Outer God suddenly moved in a grotesque manner, adjusting its posture, and swung a fist toward Yutia.
BOOOOOOOM—!!!!
In an instant, the ground trembled, and the swirling snowstorm ca to a halt.
The punch was powerful enough to send dozens of barbarians flying like leaves in the wind.
And then.
Neltar, the one who had thrown the punch, began regenerating his head.
In re seconds, his head was completely restored.
But on his face, there was only deep despair.
However, he quickly let out a low growl, as if regaining his resolve.
[…Think carefully. You should know that fighting here isn’t the best option for either of us.]
Neltar warned, his expression grave.
For the first ti, Yutia spoke.
“Why is that?”
[Even you can’t take down without any damage, can you?]
“Then, do you think I can’t?”
A deep smile.
Within it lay absolute confidence.
Neltar’s face twisted further.
Through this exchange, he realized.
Negotiation was no longer an option.
Thus.
[Why on earth—]
Neltar began to speak, unable to comprehend the situation.
But—
“Unfortunately.”
Yutia maintained her deep smile.
“The One I serve feels uneasy about Outer Gods still being alive.”
And the mont those words left her lips.
[Do you think I will die so easily, without taking anything with ?!]
Neltar roared, raising his fist.
Then.
CRACK—!
Once again.
His head flew off.
***
The barbarians stared blankly at the scene before them.
The chieftains, the warriors, and even Luraka.
Their eyes no longer held fear.
The emotion that now ruled over them was—
Reverence.
A battle that filled their entire vision.
Just witnessing it made them all feel the sa, unified emotion.
Outer God with black skin lunged at the girl, swinging its fist.
Yet with just a single sidestep, Yutia effortlessly evaded the punch.
The ground shook as the impact drove into the earth, scattering the snow into a blizzard and triggering an avalanche.
As if taunting him, she avoided the attack with a single step.
Driven by rage, Outer God wrenched its fist from the ground and swung again.
Pop—!
Both of its arms exploded.
And not just the arms.
Its forearms.
Its legs.
Its stomach.
Its shoulders.
Its chest.
And finally, its head.
In an instant.
As if it had never existed in the first place, its body burst apart, painting the surroundings in blood.
Yet even with its entire body destroyed—
BOOOOM—!
Neltar regenerated once more, defying the undeniable death.
He swung at Yutia once again.
A battle of the incomprehensible versus the incomprehensible.
A clash so grand it seed like a legend passed down from the age of gods.
All who witnessed it were left speechless.
But.
Outer God, Neltar, who was actually fighting against Yutia—
‘This is absurd—!’
Was in utter shock.
From the very beginning, he had known.
What kind of being Yutia truly was.
He couldn’t not know.
No—he must not be ignorant of it.
That girl.
The girl who was toying with him, an Outer God, as if he were a re plaything.
She was an ally of the black entities that once drove the world to ruin.
The first creation of the Blood of Ruin.
And the one who—
Pop—!
Neltar’s vision blacked out for an instant before returning.
Before him, the girl still stood in place, without the slightest sign of exhaustion, looking down at him.
Bewildernt swelled within him, overtaking his mind.
He couldn’t comprehend it.
Unlike other Outer Gods.
The mont he descended, he had deliberately refrained from acting, choosing instead to strike a deal with the barbarians to conceal himself.
He had waited until he could fully manifest.
Now, as a perfectly incarnated Outer God, he was facing her.
And yet, despite all that—
‘Why can’t I touch her?’
Neltar couldn’t lay a hand on the girl.
Not even once.
Not a single strike landed.
It was utterly bizarre.
He was not weak.
On the contrary, back when this world was still the domain of the gods, he had been a malevolent god who devoured other deities, boasting strength beyond most.
More than anything—
Back then, his punches had reached her.
And yet.
Even though they had, even though they should be connecting—
His power failed to reach her.
As if it had never reached her in the first place.
‘She didn’t have an ability like this—’
“….”
At that thought, Neltar’s eyes widened, staring at the girl before him.
One possibility.
Sothing impossible.
But if not that impossibility, then this situation could not exist.
‘No, it couldn’t be. That should never be possible…!!’
At the sa ti, his mouth fell open in disbelief.
And as if in response, the girl’s smile deepened.
“It seems you’ve figured it out.”
Her whisper echoed through the air.
“……!!!”
The mont he understood the aning behind those words—
Neltar was horrified that the ‘impossible’ answer had aligned perfectly.
“You… you turned against your own kind—!”
Just as he was about to explode in rage, he saw it.
Yutia’s hands forming a seal.
And then.
Her index finger rising to her lips, forming a quiet “shh.”
That was the last thing he saw.
At that mont, he knew.
He was going to die.
Outer God Neltar.
He could not be killed by physical attacks.
Not by magic.
Not by severing space or dinsions.
No matter the thod, he had always regenerated.
As long as his essence remained intact, he would never die.
But there was one thing even he could not escape.
The ability possessed by the Blood of Ruin—the one who created the very being before him.
The one fate none could avoid—
—
—
—
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Pop—!
Neltar’s head exploded.
Then his heart burst.
His stomach.
His arms.
His hands.
His legs.
His feet.
One by one, they ruptured, scattering crimson flowers across the ashen snowfields.
And yet.
He no longer regenerated.
A definitive end.
An absolute silence descended upon the snowy mountains.
Within that stillness—
The girl who had effortlessly slain Outer God, Yutia Bludia,
“Aah.”
Suddenly, as if sothing had occurred to her, she let out a quiet exclamation.
Then, turning toward the barbarians—
With a flick—
She lightly swiped her finger through the air.
And then.
Pop—!
Luraka’s head burst open, just monts after he had been blankly watching the battlefield.
In that instant, as the air itself seed to freeze, no one could even let out a gasp.
“Hmm, I see.”
As if nothing had happened, Yutia dryly remarked after having so casually burst another head.
Standing at the center of all the fearful and reverent gazes, she smiled.
“There are quite a lot of heads here, so killing all of you would be a bit of a waste. So, I’ll give you a chance.”
Her crimson eyes glead.
“A glorious, honorable chance to worship the Great One.”
An offer.
One that could never be refused.
***
The mont the voice echoed, Alon realized he was sowhere else.
No longer in the northern snowfields, where the white flurries had swirled monts ago.
Now, he stood in a darkness so deep it was as if he had fallen into an abyss.
Alon was about to rack his brain to grasp the situation when—
[Aberration.]
“…Aberration?”
He questioned the term used to refer to him, but unfortunately, the heavy voice, as if steeped in the abyss, did not respond to his words.
Instead—
[Rember.]
It continued calmly.
[The technique of the Reversal, which only Gods of this world can use, is unlike ordinary thods.]
Just as the man in the mirror had said when Alon saw him at the root of Greynifra—
The voice continued speaking.
[Do not limit yourself to re magic.]
[Do not limit yourself to re strength.]
[Do not limit yourself to re rank.]
[Instead, embrace everything and harmonize.]
[What you have gained—each and every piece—holds no uselessness, for it is all a key leading to a single path.]
[Rember this, and you will reach it.]
And in the final mont—
[Reverser.]
[Our—]
Just as the black entity’s words were about to continue, Alon’s vision flipped.
The snow-covered mountains.
A pure white landscape.
Alon realized he had returned to the snowy mountains.
As he stood there in a daze—
[You lunatic! Get a hold of yourself! Wake up!!!]
[ow!?]
The shouting voices from below snapped him back to reality.
And at that mont, he saw it.
Basiliora, covered in blood.
“…Basiliora, you, that blood—”
His voice trembled involuntarily.
However—
[You idiot! This isn’t my blood—it’s yours!!!]
Basiliora’s words made Alon realize.
Blood was pouring from his own face.
“…Haah.”
A wave of dizziness hit him, draining the strength from his body.
Barely managing to clutch his head, Alon turned toward the snowy landscape visible beyond the worn-out door, then shut it.
Creak—the door closed weakly with a groan.
Just to be sure, he opened and closed it several tis, but the place he had been monts ago was no longer accessible.
Instead—
“…?”
At so point, a parchnt had appeared in Alon’s hand, gripping the doorknob.
Confused, he unfolded it.
***
Thousand-Year Ice.
A being who belonged to no tribe, one who had beco an apostle of a god not worshiped by the barbarians, and thus gained the great power of nature.
He was not particularly well-liked by the barbarians.
No—more precisely—
The barbarians despised Thousand-Year Ice.
His eccentric nature made him an outlier, but more than that, he worshiped a god foreign to them, rather than the deity they revered.
Unlike them, however, Thousand-Year Ice did not particularly dislike the barbarians.
Despite being born and raised in the harsh North, he had an unexpectedly kind nature.
That was why, when he heard the horn sound earlier, he moved toward its source.
Even though he knew the call wasn’t ant for him, if the chieftain had blown it, it ant sothing very dangerous was happening.
However—
Despite his urgency, he found his path blocked.
“You—what exactly are you?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. I don’t think there’s a need for introductions just yet.”
A young man, strikingly handso by anyone’s standards, stood in his way.
“Then why are you stopping ?”
“Hmm, how should I explain this? Let’s see—”
The young man’s clear, sky-blue eyes, devoid of any tension, shimred with amusent.
His lips curled into an easygoing smile.
However—
“For your sake, and for the one I serve.”
For an instant, an overwhelming force—strong enough to make even the renowned Thousand-Year Ice flinch— crushed the air around them.
“So, if you wouldn’t mind—”
With an absurdly casual wink, the monster made his request.
Thousand-Year Ice swallowed hard.
User Comments
0 comments from readers