* * *
* * *
“Is this real?”
Kariot laughed as he looked at the crowd of madmen rushing in. In a decisive battle where the fate of humanity is at stake, the enemies you face are the heroes who have protected humanity until now… Isn’t this a joke you can’t help but laugh at?
Tsk, Kariot clicked his tongue.
“still.”
Kariot threw down the coffin he was carrying. The lid of the coffin thrown into the air opened, and weapons began to pour out indiscriminately. Kariot took a step forward while looking at the falling weapons.
Thump, and thud.
What he grabbed as he walked was a sword with a red cross. A vine extending from the hilt of the sword wrapped around Kariot’s arm. Kariot has been able to withstand the curse of immortality for a longer time after going through numerous battlefields.
“I have to work.”
Holding his sword, Kariot rushed towards the leading heroes. The first thing that catches your eye is a figure holding two strangely shaped swords. Kariot knew that curve.
Achart of the full moon.
He was a holy knight of the church that punished traitors who were traitors to humanity, and was the first head of the Inquisitors, to which Cariot originally belonged. He was so excited to see his distant senior here that Kariot burst out laughing and jumped off the ground.
Wow.
The moment he approached Achart, the hyperbolic sword he was holding moved quickly. The curved sword, which swung in a wave-like trajectory, scratched Kariot’s abdomen and cut off the arm holding the sword. Fresh blood gushing out. The curved blade cut through the blood and entered Cariot’s heart.
It was an attack carried out in a split second, a strike worthy of the first Inquisitor, who burst the hearts of countless traitors and put them to death.
This is the moment when Achart uses the curved sword as a pitchfork to pull out Kariot’s heart. With a squeak, Kariot’s hand viciously grabbed Achart’s wrist. The arm that had clearly been cut off was still attached.
The grabbed arm does not fall back.
Achart tried to swing the sword with his remaining hand, but before he could, Kariot’s sword cut through the top of Achart’s head. Among the splashing blood, Kariot gasped and spat out the blood that had accumulated in his mouth.
“Resurrecting from death is my specialty, Senpai.”
It would be difficult if you invaded your junior’s specialty area.
Mumbling that, Kariot walked forward, passing Achat’s fallen corpse. Kariot let out a long breath as he looked at the crowd of madmen rushing in.
All of them are heroes who have made a name for themselves somewhere.
If it’s a mediocre opponent, you may be able to counter it by using immortality to exploit loopholes like you did just now… but not all of them are such gentle opponents. Among them, there are many superhumans, warriors, and famous swordsmen.
and.
“···!”
They won’t be such simple opponents.
Kariot felt his gaze waver for a moment. My vision turns upside down. My head is pounding. The moment Kariot realized that a spell was being cast that would wreak havoc on his mind, he pulled out a dagger from his belt. I plunged the drawn dagger into my temple.
Sigh.
Intense pain, and rebirth.
Kariot ran away, shaking off the spells that had bound his mind. He boldly threw himself towards the heroes’ spear knives. Immortality, and overwhelming super regeneration that surpasses that of a hero. Trusting the only weapon he had, Kariot swung it.
Sigh!
The magic pierces the temple and shakes it off, and the hallucination magic responds by exploding the pupils and regenerating them. That is not the fighting method of humans, but rather closer to the fighting method of the undead.
Among the revived heroes, one who could not die ran rampant.
If he missed a weapon, he would steal it from the corpses of the heroes, and if he missed even that, he would bite his enemies with his nails and teeth, resisting the oncoming army. However, one person cannot stop the wave.
Even more so if it is a wave made up of heroes.
Tooung.
As the sound of the bowstring being struck rang out, Cariot’s forehead was pierced. It’s an arrow fired from far away. The arrow of the famous archer Ephtha. Someone closed the distance with one step towards Kariot, who had his head tilted back with his eyebrows pierced.
Bergère of amputation.
A warrior holding a holy sword.
The moment Kariot, who had just regenerated, lowered his head and was about to strike with his sword, Berger’s sword moved. The fast sword pushed away Kariot’s sword and tore through the air.
He races forward, swinging his sword. A rapid sword strike cut into Kariot’s body. With the torn pieces of meat scattering in all directions, Berger twisted his wrist holding the sword.
Kiiiiing!
With a noise that resonated in the eardrums, Kariot’s body, which had been playing, was once again torn into pieces. Kariot rolled around on the floor and stood up, wiping the blood from his face with his palm.
“···It’s not easy.”
As he wiped away the blood and looked ahead, he saw armies rushing towards him. It’s hard to even tell how many times I’ve died…
Ka-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga-ga!
Kariot glanced at the storm rising into the sky.
Thinking of his juniors running wild over there, Kariot gripped his sword more tightly.
“We are entering the tower at the end.”
What rings in my ears is a message.
It is Belnoa who takes command on behalf of Destel, who has not yet arrived on the battlefield. Belnoa explained the outline of the operation.
“It must be restrained.”
That sludge gushing from the tower needs to be stopped as soon as possible. There is no time to be held back by an army of madmen. He was telling me to follow him as he would clear a path.
So, who will guard the road they cleared so that it is not blocked again… and that they are not surrounded? Kariot laughed bitterly.
“It’s similar to the Battle of Alkeia.”
“please.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Kariot slowly raised his head.
“And, it looks like I won’t be the only one to stop it this time.”
There was a group of lights shooting up into the sky.
It was not an arrow fired by Efta, a famous archer in the distance. An arrow that emits a brighter light than that. The moment the arrow touched the clouds, ripples appeared in the blue sky.
Moonlight.
Silver-white fine lines poured out.
“I don’t like it.”
Remia wrinkled her expression.
Master Palace, Efta. Remia also knew about her well. She was Remia, one of the younger elves, and Ephtha was already dead when she was born. But the traces she left behind were all over Yggdrasil.
A human raised by an elf.
——————
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A person who becomes a hero and a warrior.
Efta was a warrior loved by the elves, and a human who even received the elves’ treasure, the Moonlight Arrow, as a gift. That’s probably why she was able to imitate techniques that only her shrine could handle.
But, what about now?
Remia glared at Efta beyond. The beautiful eyes and graceful movements that the elves praised were no longer left in the current master archer. Remia clicked her tongue as she looked at her arrow shooting into the sky.
‘That’s an imitation of the shrine’s technique?’
Don’t be funny.
Tung.
Remia let go of the bowstring that had been pulled to its limit.
An arrow filled with moonlight soared into the sky. The trajectory of the soaring arrow is clearer than Ephtha’s, and its speed is incomparable to Ephtha’s.
Remia’s arrow reached the sky first.
A silver-white flash flashed through the clouds as the moonlight arrow touched the sky. One flash, and what comes pouring down right after is hundreds or thousands of silver-white lines. The pouring Seomseon defeated the meteor shower launched by Efta.
Moonlight.
The nickname given to Efta is Master Archer, but the nickname given to Remia is Divine Archer. At the beginning of the history of the elves, Remia is called a genius and was given the ability to hold a bow and use moonlight arrows at a young age.
As if that nickname wasn’t a lie, Remia’s arrows covered the battlefield.
Bababababababababababaak!
Moonlight poured down on the heroes.
Some swing their swords to cut the moonlight, break it with spears, or slash their shields to protect the area… but it is difficult to withstand the moonlight without taking any damage.
“Now.”
The moonlight held the heroes back for a moment, and this was an opportunity. Remia said as she put a new arrow on her bowstring.
“You need to quickly organize yourself and join us. Let’s go quickly.”
While saying that, Remia looked back.
There, there was a talent more suitable than anyone else for this type of battlefield. Looking at Remia, she nodded her head.
Wow, I said.
The witch snapped her fingers.
* * *
The witch looked down at the battlefield.
The last place the gaze is directed to is Belnoa, who is moving forward through the army of heroes. The punitive force followed behind them. They were running through the battlefield, looking only at the tower at the end.
···Although he knew that he would also have to join in order to deal with the madman, Resti put it off for a while.
Because the flow has already turned.
The moment you join in there, the already tilted battlefield will be completely overturned. Kariot and Remia alone won’t be able to handle the madman’s army.
‘If they break through…’
You have to deal with the madman and those forces at the same time.
There is no chance of winning then. You can’t make such a gamble without knowing what’s shaking inside the tower at the end. Resty slowly caught his breath.
What comes to mind is an apostate.
The apostate I faced that day, Gletus.
A disaster that acts like a nightmare and is capable of forming an army on its own. She was a Summoner class like Resti, and was someone who had reached the limit of her class. Resty stretched her arms forward, remembering the battle to subdue the apostates.
Just do it.
The moment she snapped her fingers, the door opened. The huge door connected to the other world opens, and what comes pouring out are her familiars. With a huge number of familiars pouring into the wilderness, Resty asked himself:
What is a Summoner?
Some say. He wields dozens of familiars and forms an army alone. Someone else said: Ilshin’s strength is insignificant, and he is a third-rate wizard who only relies on his familiars. And, someone else…
“Apostate, Gletus.”
“When you talk about Summoner, you can’t leave out that crazy bitch. Summoner is weak? Is Ilshin’s strength nothing special? That’s all bullshit. “It’s because they haven’t met each other.”
A wizard said this:
“In history, no hero other than Kyle and I has ever broken through the army of apostates. Even we failed in the end. So, I mean.”
Summoner on the battlefield.
“The Summoner dominates the battlefield.”
“It’s cumbersome, annoying, and like a nightmare. Yes, it means that it is like a disaster.”
It’s like a disaster.
He dominates the battlefield and controls it as he pleases. Resty laughed, remembering what his senior said. If the great Raniel said so and taught himself like that…
He himself must become a disaster.
“Wow,” said Resty, clapping his hands.
At that moment, the open door to the other world flashed above the sky. The spells carved on the door were released one after another.
Accel.
Regen.
Gigantic.
Durable.
Muscular hypertrophy.
Lightweight.
Strengthening spells poured out and inhabited the bodies of the familiars. With a popping, popping sound, the familiars grew larger in size and their eyes sparkled red. And, the spell doesn’t end there.
Spell-Nesting.
Orders overlapped. The same spell struck the bodies of the familiars dozens of times. Regeneration sustains the body that collapses due to a spell that exceeds the permitted limit… but that also does not last long.
The moment when the bodies of the familiars who had grown so large were about to collapse.
Wow, I said.
The Gray Witch cast her last spell.
“Overcome.”
A spell created only by her.
Numbness, no pain, control of emotions and instincts. Maximization of senses and physical abilities beyond limits. A spell that forcibly opens the limits on a living being.
———————!
The familiars roared.
What is reflected in the bright red eyes is madness. The army of familiars steeped in madness roared. Hundreds or thousands of familiars rushed towards the madman’s army.
The heroes collide with waves made up of familiars.
As if imitating an apostate, the witch waved her finger. Circuits containing the highest order spells began to appear one after another behind her. Unlike the apostate who enjoyed seeing humans being trampled by his familiars, Resti had only one goal.
efficiency. And, join quickly.
So there was no reason not to use magic.
The circuit containing the completed highest level spell burned bright white.
fantasy,
