I ran east with the goddess. It was early morning, and we were heading towards the sun, yet the light was the color of a sunset. The whole world seemed to have gone mad; it was terribly eerie.
Fenrir the Great Wolf fled, bathed in a bright red light.
“Solana, let’s drive him away and join Heimdall’s battle!”
“Yes!”
The ranks of adventurers stretched for more than ten layers to the front lines. I dashed through them using the speed of ‘Golden Flame’.
I reached the front lines.
A thunderous roar, like lightning, grew louder as I advanced.
Heimdall and Ymir were clashing swords and fists. The aftershocks of their power tore up the surrounding earth, and skeletons that carelessly approached were blown to pieces.
“Heimdall!”
I raised my voice.
His face covered in wounds, Heimdall grinned.
“So, you’ve come!”
“Yeah!”
Ymir’s colossal fist slammed into the ground. I ducked low and slipped beneath the spray of earth and stone that erupted into the air.
“Gah!”
A kobold that rushed at me was cut down with my short sword. The monsters from the Eastern Dungeon weren’t even a challenge anymore!
The eastern front, filled with veteran adventurers, was already pushing the monsters back in several places.
Solana spoke in a low voice.
“Before we join the fight, be on your guard. Ymir is not an enemy to underestimate.”
“I know. Loki said so too—that the enemy might have some kind of scheme—”
Then it happened.
The air trembled with a sharp, violent shudder. A chill crawled through my entire body.
“W-What…?”
A wall of sound crashed into us. Ymir was roaring at the heavens. Instinctively, I bent low. If I hadn’t, the sheer pressure of it felt as though it would have blown me away.
Solana stepped in front of me and wrapped her arms around me protectively.
“This is… some kind of magic is flowing!”
The cries of monsters grew louder from all directions. An adventurer’s voice reached my ears.
―W-what is this?!
―The monsters I defeated are…
A cry of panic, almost a shriek. Even without using the blessing of the God of Hunting to detect it, I immediately knew something was wrong.
The monsters that had been defeated and are turning to ash rose one after another, resuming the battle. An adventurer was grabbed by a goblin with only one arm, and was swallowed by the wave of monsters, screaming.
―H-help—!
He desperately tried to suppress his fear. Goblins, kobolds, orcs, fire-beasted kobolds, water-horse kolbies, and giant soldiers. Type and size didn’t matter. Anything that had even a small piece of body left is being resurrected.
“Gu, ga…!”
I looked back over my shoulder.
The kobold I had cut down moments ago was standing again. It had switched the dagger to its left hand—probably because its right arm had turned to ash. Staggering unsteadily, it lurched toward us.
“…I-it came back to life?”
“No. I believe it is something else entirely.”
A sharp gleam flashed in Solana’s golden eyes.
“This… is not resurrection. It is something far more dreadful.”
The kobold charged.
“G… GRAAAAH!”
It sounded less like a battle cry and more like a scream of agony.
I have to put it out of its misery—
The thought flashed through my mind, and I swung with all my strength, slicing through its torso. This time, it was a killing blow. The body split cleanly in two and dissolved into pure white ash. Then I noticed something even stranger.
The kobold had dropped nothing. Not even a drop item—no, not even a magic stone, which monsters always left behind.
“Solana… what does this mean?”
“When monsters die, they leave behind a magic stone. Even in death, they retain a small amount of mana. But judging by what we are seeing…”
Her expression darkened.
“Ymir has ordered them to squeeze out even that last remnant of power.”
I was about to ask, For what?
But the answer was obvious.
“The magic stones…! Monsters always retain enough mana to form one, even after death…!”
A magic stone—the thing every monster inevitably left behind after dying. In a sense, it was the very core of their existence. And even that final reserve of mana… Ymir was forcing them to give it up.
Solana fixed her gaze upon Ymir, her eyes narrowing.
“He’s inflicting even more suffering upon monsters on the brink of death and forcing them to fight for a few minutes longer!”
The tide of battle was shifting once again. After retreating farther behind Ymir, the wolfbone Fenrir stood perfectly still, watching us.
Then Heimdall turned and shouted:
“Rion, get back to the walls!”
A chill ran through me, as though an icicle had pierced my spine.
That’s right…
The corpse of that monster is still there—
“Hurry! Protect your sister!”
The monsters that had already been slain surged toward Heimdall once more.
The front lines were being swallowed by a great black wave. The battlefield had already been stretched to its limit, and now all the enemies we had fought so hard to defeat were joining the fray again!
“B-But…!”
“Go! Do not mistake what matters most!”
I ran towards the castle walls. The vow to protect them at all costs now feels heavy.
“…I’m counting on you.”
From behind me, the roar of Ymir bringing his fist down echoed.
◆◆◆
For the first time in his life, the God of Hunting, Uru, experienced something utterly unthinkable.
In the middle of battle, he had nearly dropped his bow.
――OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!
Ymir’s roar thundered across the battlefield. It was the cry of the Primordial titan—the Creator himself—a voice that made every living thing tremble. Not only humans, but even the monsters ceased fighting for a single instant. Perhaps it was like flinching at the crash of thunder. No living creature could completely deny such instinctive fear.
“—Ah!”
Uru snapped back to his senses. He lowered his gaze, raised his bow, and searched for the one person he had been tracking until moments ago.
There was no sign of him.
His brow furrowed.
“…Freyr, where have you gone?”
He must have concealed his presence to coincide with the roar. The god Freyr now resided within a human body. If he completely sealed away his divine power, he could disappear among ordinary people.
Uru had been on guard for that possibility. Yet Ymir’s roar had stolen his attention for the briefest moment—and Freyr had seized that opening.
“Of all mistakes…!”
At that moment, cries erupted from the ground. Near the city walls, Hati—who should have been dead—had risen once more, leaning upon his staff.
“G… Ga… Grr…!”
Once, he had possessed a towering frame over two meters tall, but his entire left side was already gone. Everything below one knee had turned to ash as well. To say he had stood up would be inaccurate; it was more as if he had merely dragged himself upright. The center of his forehead had caved in deeply, and from his left eye to beneath his jaw, an entire portion of his face was simply… missing.
One half of his face remained, its mouth split grotesquely to the ear. The other was a hollow ruin, with only a solitary eye left behind.
That vacant gaze stared fixedly at the city wall.
“Gah…”
And yet, Hati still used magic. Obeying the command of his Creator, he raised cries of agony and terror and swung his staff.
“Resurrection…!?”
Uru loosed a flurry of arrows.
Even as divine arrows pierced both eyes, his chest, and other vital points, Hati did not cease his spellcasting.
A chill spread through Uru’s chest. It was like looking at a marionette. There was no will left in it, no awareness of pain—only a thing driven onward by fear.
Mia and Felix were still nearby, but neither the chain-axe nor their magic possessed enough power to completely obliterate Hati’s shattered body.
“Gih… Gah… Kaaah!”
The final struggle of a legendary monster.
Ordinarily, Hati would have vanished and left behind an enormous magic stone. Instead, every last ounce of the power that should have formed that stone was being converted into magic. The defenders on the wall had likely believed the sudden assault was already over.
And then it came.
Flames, boulders, and ice rained down in a torrential storm.
Shouts and screams erupted in succession.
The giant ballistae the dwarves had only just reset and the golem cores placed along the battlements were destroyed one after another.
“Ga… ah… ahh…”
After unleashing the last destruction of his existence, Hati finally collapsed.
He did not turn to black ash. He became white ash. His eyes remained wide open, and his twisted tongue protruded from his mouth, a final testament to the agony he had endured.
A hoarse whisper escaped Uru’s throat.
“He… forced them to fight until the very end of their lives… through terror?”
A shiver ran through him.
The relationship between the Primordial titan and the monsters…
It was one of absolute domination and absolute subjugation.
“…This is bad.”
Uru thought to himself, directing his thoughts towards the gods.
“I’m sorry, I’ve lost sight of Freyr. Judging by the atmosphere, a fierce counterattack is coming!”
Uru gritted his teeth. His plan was to lure the enemy into a trap and gain an advantage in battle. However, now that Fenrir and his men had been repelled, the defenses in front of the city walls were weakened. Perhaps the gods themselves had been lured in.
◆◆◆
The man, covered in blood and mud, blended in among the wounded returning to the city walls. Perhaps because he had pushed himself too far, his vision was blurred and his footing unsteady. As he staggered, someone caught him by the shoulder.
“…You look terrible. Here, lean on me.”
The man gave a small nod.
“Ah.”
His body was caked in mud. His blond hair had lost its luster, and the smell of blood clinging to him stung his nose. Though, in truth, almost all of it was someone else’s blood.
Borrowing the other party’s shoulder for support, he walked toward the walls like just another injured soldier. Then, before long, the roar of a monster echoed from the direction of the battlements.
It was Hati, driven mad with terror. Burning through the last remnants of his life, he unleashed a wild barrage of magic upon the walls. The events unfolding exactly as planned, the man narrowed his eyes.
“…Poor thing. Still, thank you for serving as a sacrifice, Hati.”
Not even a magic stone would remain after his death. Even the mana that should have endured as the core of his being—his magic stone—had been converted into spells and hurled away.
The agony must have been unbearable.
Setting one’s own body aflame would probably have been less painful. With a faint smile, Freyr wiped the mud from his face.
“I suppose it’s my turn now.”
His sword flashed once. The adventurer who had been lending him his shoulder collapsed to the ground. Stepping over the corpse, he moved on.
He had already reached the base of the city wall.
Columns of black smoke rose from the battlements, the aftermath of Hati’s magic. Freyr lifted his eyes to the temple’s great tower.
“My sister is in there.”
Concealing himself beneath mud, hiding among the wounded—there was nothing divine or noble about such conduct. Even so, for his sister’s sake, he would endure any humiliation, commit any atrocity.
A smile spread across his mud-stained face.
Then he broke into a run.
“You—you’re Freyr?!”
The shout came from an adventurer who must have known him back in Flocia.
Freyr showed no mercy. He cut the man down without a second thought. And kept running. Uru, high above, spotted him. Arrow after arrow came raining down on him.
But this—this was his greatest opportunity. The arrows he could not deflect buried themselves in his back. Even so, he never slowed. The city wall loomed before him.
Then he began to climb.
Archers. Giant ballistae. The dwarves’ golems.
Freyr cut down what little remained of the wall’s defenses, one after another, praying that someone—anyone—would follow through.
――OOOOOOOOH!
This time, it was the roar of the World Serpent, Jormungandr.
Its colossal body swelled even larger with mana until, for a moment, its head rose higher than the temple’s great tower itself. Though it had been losing its battle against Thor, this monster, too, had likely been forced to squeeze out the very last of its strength.
Standing atop the wall, Freyr drove his sword into the stone battlements. Mana poured into it.
Then he shouted with all his might.
“Here! Come here!”
Mjölnir crashed into the great serpent, drawing a spray of blood. Yet as though it felt no pain at all, Jormungandr hurled its massive body against the city wall. Already weakened by Hati’s magic and by the mana Freyr had poured into it, the wall finally gave in beneath the World Serpent’s charge.
It collapsed.
Using the serpent’s enormous body as a shield, the frenzied horde of monsters surged toward the temple through the breach. Far in the distance, Ymir had broken through Heimdall’s defense, leading countless resurrected monsters in his wake.
Toward the hole torn open by the serpent, Ymir and his army advanced.
This is translated by Yume Neiji. Kindly read at yumeneijiworks.com
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