The ruined capital of Ashtalon had beco so eerie that it felt as though the Demonic Realm of Beasts itself had been transplanted there.
“Brother, all preparations are complete. I’ll head down now.”
“Go ahead.”
“Yes.”
Alon was already aboard a massive ship floating in the sky, just as he had been when he faced Sloth.
Watching Radan leap without hesitation, Alon turned his gaze downward.
‘So the preparations are done.’
The first thing he saw was the land below—blood-red and shattered. The capital of Ashtalon lay in ruins, buried under mountains of corpses.
Next, his eyes turned to the great ring of armies encircling Ashtalon.
“Penia.”
“Yes.”
“Are the calculations perfect?”
“Yes. If the Marquis moves thirty paces inward, just as you said, he’ll enter the field.”
“The chance of error—”
“Zero. I double-checked everything again as soon as we got up here.”
“There won’t be a problem,” Penia said firmly.
Alon gave a small nod, let out a quiet sigh, and turned his gaze toward the sin below.
As before, the embodint of Sin stood motionless—as if waiting for sothing.
Even now, Alon couldn’t quite understand why the Sin had made no move, but he decided to set that question aside.
Only two things mattered to him.
First, that the Sin had stopped moving in such a way.
Second, that its stillness ant Alon’s plan would unfold perfectly.
“Begin.”
“Yes.”
As Alon muttered softly, Penia poured magic into the crystal sphere.
At once, the soldiers began to move forward, step by step.
In their eyes flickered tension and fear.
Tension toward sothing indescribable.
Fear of the unknown.
Those emotions intertwined within them as their gazes locked on the Sin.
Their steps wavered.
Their grips on their weapons tightened.
Their hearts pounded violently.
The sight before them—
The Sin before them—
And their own imagination—
All combined to slowly push them into terror.
But the mont they passed twenty steps, the fear and horror that had filled their eyes began to fade.
The dread that had clouded their hearts lted away.
Their hesitant, heavy steps steadied, returning to their original rhythm.
Their tense grips relaxed.
And their pounding hearts gradually cald.
Finally, when the soldiers reached thirty steps—
Wooooong!
A massive barrier began to form ahead of them.
A gigantic, do-shaped shield spread out before the soldiers—
“What... what’s this?”
Confusion flashed across their faces.
But only for a mont.
“Dispel this thing—”
“We can’t complete the mission like this!”
“Dispel it! We can’t kill the monster!”
“Let us out!”
“You damned mages!!”
Their voices rose in angry protest.
Unlike their initial fear, now the soldiers were raging, desperate to break free and kill the Sin.
Anyone watching would have known sothing was terribly wrong.
“As expected,” Penia said quietly.
“Yeah.”
Alon watched the ground below with a calm expression.
After all, this entire operation was his design.
‘The Sin of Wrath in Psychedelia has two defining powers.’
[Mountain of Corpses]
[Wrath]
The first was literal—a mountain built from the bodies of the dead.
The more corpses it piled, the wider its influence spread, inflicting unavoidable status effects on all within range.
The second power, Wrath, amplified the Sin’s strength in proportion to the number of those afflicted.
The more victims under its curse, the stronger it beca.
A simple but devastating ability.
In other words, with all the troops gathered from the Allied Kingdoms, the Sin of Wrath had grown unimaginably powerful.
Yet Alon, knowing this perfectly well, had still chosen to bring these soldiers here.
Because of one additional trait possessed by the Sin of Wrath.
While it grew stronger with each enraged soul, its defense dropped in exact proportion.
aning that right now, its defense was extraordinarily low.
That was why Alon had crafted this plan.
“Blackie, it’s your turn.”
[ow-!]
Entrusting Blackie with an attack that would draw in magic at a terrifying rate, Alon imdiately stepped into the magic circle that Penia had prepared in advance.
Then—
Wooooooong!
The circle roared to life, sending a brilliant white light cascading down onto the barrier created by the mages below.
And then—
Kwagagagak!
New circles began to unfold, one after another.
Like a matryoshka doll, each formation layered atop the last.
At that sa mont—
The Sin, who until now had rely stood there watching Alon’s plan unfold,
Clack—
Raised its sword.
A jagged, chipped greatsword.
And then—
[This is as far as I’ll wait.]
Murmuring words Alon could not comprehend,
Tss—!
The Sin vanished.
It moved faster than human eyes could follow.
In an instant, it appeared before the barrier, raising its sword high to shatter it—
But at that exact mont—
Kwachik!
A golden coffin shot upward as if lying in wait.
“—!”
The Sin pulled back just in ti to dodge it.
And that beca the signal—
Kwagagagak—!!
The golden coffins buried beneath the earth shot upward in an instant, darting chaotically within the barrier as they aid for the Sin.
The Sin twisted its body and lunged toward Rine, who was controlling the coffins from within.
But—
Skreeeek!
Its left hand was sliced clean off just before reaching her.
“What a pity,” Alon murmured. “Had it co just a little closer, we could have killed it outright.”
At that mont, strands of violet thread shimred across the golden coffins, and Deus stepped forward beside Rine.
But they weren’t alone.
Behind the Sin, twisting its body to dodge the threads and coffins, Seolrang and Radan closed in.
“Urgh—!”
By a hair’s breadth, Seolrang’s kick and Radan’s spear failed to land on the Sin’s back.
Watching the four stand against the creature, Alon exhaled a quiet sigh.
‘Everything’s going according to plan.’
The Sin of Wrath’s offensive power was imnse—so overwhelming that no amount of magical reinforcent could match it.
Even if they blocked an attack, it would only be once at best.
That was why, instead of strengthening the barrier, Alon had asked Rine, Seolrang, Deus, and Radan to buy ti inside it.
Of course, it was an extrely dangerous request.
But not impossible.
At this stage, the Sin of Wrath had to pay attention to even the smallest attacks.
In other words, it couldn’t afford to ignore Rine’s golden coffins or Deus’s violet threads.
Sure, the Sin could destroy them with brute force.
But that was fine too.
Because inside the barrier weren’t just Rine and Deus—Seolrang and Radan were there as well.
As long as the four kept up the assault, the Sin—whose every attack had to be a killing blow—couldn’t easily retaliate.
The plan proceeded even more smoothly than Alon had hoped.
“Whew…”
Wiping the blood trickling under his nose, Alon looked up at the sky.
High above, the spell Blackie was maintaining continued to expand, fed by Alon’s magic.
It was the Bullet of the Unfulfilled Wish—the sa spell that had annihilated the Sin of Sloth.
Now, fully charged, it hovered with solemn majesty in the heavens.
“Nggh—!”
Taking back control from Blackie, Alon released the spell.
Kwagagagagak—!!!
The sphere of pure magic tore through the air as it fell toward the Sin.
Slowly—
But inexorably.
“Marquis!” Penia shouted.
But Alon didn’t answer.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet—
“Penia—!”
“Yes!”
At his call, Penia, who had been waiting for the signal, reactivated the magic sphere.
At the sa ti, Seolrang, Rine, Radan, and Deus used their prepared artifacts to teleport outside the barrier.
And then—
!
A white light overlaid the crimson world.
***
When the blinding light that had swallowed everything began to fade, a single thought rose in Alon’s mind.
‘That easily?’
No, it hadn’t been easy.
He had spent nearly a month preparing for this operation, and the entire Allied Kingdom’s forces had gathered for it.
But despite that, Alon couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling as he looked down.
As the dust began to clear where the light had struck, he could finally see the battlefield below.
First, he saw the soldiers, frowning in confusion as if they didn’t understand what they had been doing monts ago.
Next were Radan, Seolrang, Rine, and Deus, who had escaped just in ti.
And finally—
At the center of a blackened crater—
The Sin of Wrath.
…!
Its condition was far from normal.
Its once-heavy armor was faded, turning ashen gray, as though it were monts away from disappearing altogether.
Its left hand was completely gone.
And yet—
‘It’s still holding form?’
That was what shocked them.
The Sin’s body still remained.
When Alon had defeated the Sin of Sloth, it had also preserved its shape.
But that was only because its durability as a Sin had remained intact.
The Sin of Wrath, however, should have been far too weakened—Deus’s threads alone had nearly shredded it.
For it to still have a body was… unnatural.
The mont Alon felt that unease—
“...?”
He descended to the ground.
It was strange.
One mont he had been floating high with Penia; the next, he stood before the Sin.
And then—
Thud—
The Sin’s dim, cracked armor—until now perfectly still—began to fall away piece by piece.
Like an insect shedding its old shell.
Slowly.
Gradually.
The worn armor fell.
The dulled helt.
The chipped sword.
Everything—
Falling away.
And what erged from within—
Was sothing like a knight, but not quite human.
Its body was clad in armor so dark it seed forged from obsidian drawn from the abyss of night, faintly glowing with the light of lted starlight.
Upon the surface of that armor ran veins of crimson runes and constellations that pulsed faintly, alive.
And at the center of its hollow chest—
Burned a single star.
A star as deep as the void itself, and yet undeniably shining.
And then, as silence fell across the field—
The being spoke, clear and resounding.
[Can you bear the burden of sin?]
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