The pale moon was casting its light over the rugged mountain range. Within the sturdy fortresses nestled throughout the crags, dwarves with bushy beards watched the base of the mountain, their eyes filled with fear.
In the deafening silence, a dark figure crawled up the dimly lit granite rock.
“It’s the Barbarians!”
The frantic cry of the sentry soon transformed into a resonant trumpet call, stirring the entire battlefield.
The pride of the Dwarven army, the siege weapons, were swiftly moved to form a firing line while ominous black shadows multiplied at a terrifying speed at the base of the mountain.
The dwarves were well acquainted with the notorious black shadows.
The barbarians of the North.
An unrecorded but genuine Calamity.
Once believed to be an invincible army until their defeat by the Elvan Confederation of Nations, these Barbarians secretly changed their invasion route and were invading the Dwarven lands.
From the outset, it was a fight with no chance of victory.
From the mountaintop with the battlefield in full view, the Crown King of the Dwarves had to watch as his people and the fortresses fall one by one to the overwhelming onslaught of the barbarians.
“How can this be…?”
The renowned siege weapons and famed resilience of the Dwarves were nothing more than a straw house before this overwhelming power.
However, this would not be how things end.
Daincraft, the king of the Dwarf Kingdom and the Eleventh of the Thirteen Champions of the Continent, watched on as the fortress that was beginning to be overrun by the Barbarians suddenly had black flames erupting from its center.
“Ino! Ishui!”
The black flames soon transformed into a towering black figure, standing tall among the Barbarians who had captured the fortress.
“Doron! Troimea Doron!”
The Barbarians, who had been charging fearlessly, were noticeably taken aback by the appearance of the black figure.
Black flames also began to rise rapidly from other fortresses, each creating a different form of black figures.
“Muruk! Ino!”
An unholy shout shook the battlefield.
At the center of it all were figures clad in black robes.
The Order of Extinction. The Lesser Gods they summoned had made their advent on losing battlefield.
When one of the Lesser Gods clapped its hands, a thunderbolt capable of annihilating everything began to strike down upon the battlefield.
Bo Boom!
A bolt of lightning fell towards the horde of Barbarians.
The invincible-looking Barbarians were nothing but mere mortals before the might of the immortal Lesser Gods.
Those Barbarians, who were about to march toward the mountain, hesitated, and soon an ominous sound of a horn echoed from the foot of the mountain.
Bwooooooooo
It was a signal for retreat
Upon hearing the signal, the Barbarians dropped the looted weapons and equipment they were holding and retreated down the mountain.
What seemed to be a one-sided defeat of the Dwarf Kingdom turned into a sudden but uneventful victory.
“What do you think, O King of the Dwarves?”
A youthful but irresistibly charming voice echoed from the darkness.
Soon, the owner of that voice revealed herself.
It was a human girl wearing a mask that covered half of her face.
Behind her, a handsome middle-aged man with a similar face was sternly protecting her back.
‘Is this the spiritual leader of the Order of Extinction, the Masked Saintess?’
One warrior protecting the king was watching the members of the Order of Extinction closely.
“As you can see, our Order of Extinction can provide a shield that can protect you not only from the Human Empire but any other external threats.”
The Masked Saintess, Sarasa Xero, slowly walked to the wall, surveying the battlefield with her one visible eye.
The Barbarians dissapeared from the smoldering battle fields. And in their absence stood three gigantic Lesser Gods, boasting their overwhelming presence.
The face of the Dwarf King Daincraft was dark despite the victory.
Because it was a pyrrhic victory.
Many warriors died during the Barbarian ambush, and the most outstanding among them were consumed as tools to summon the Lesser Gods.
In contrast, the damage to the Barbarian horde was miniscule.
They had immediately retreated as soon as the Lesser God appeared, minimizing their losses.
They were fully aware of the main weakness of the Lesser God’s Advent.
Even Sarasa and the Dwarven King was aware of this.
“But, as Your Majesty is aware, that shield is not eternal. The Barbarians already know the shield’s weakness. They will continue to attack and retreat, forcing the shield to be brought out, and each time, Your Majesty will lose your most loyal subjects.”
Sarasa gestured with her hand.
Then, the middle-aged man standing behind her, took something out of his pocket and handed it to Sarasa.
It was a scroll, radiating an indescribably unholy aura with a metallic black light.
Sarasa offered the scroll to the king of the dwarves.
“But there is a way. This scroll is not a temporary measure, it guarantees the power of eternal guardianship.”
However, Daincraft only looked at the scroll, not reaching out for it.
Sarasa continued in a sweet voice.
“Only Your Majesty, possessing an ironclad will and strength of stone, can protect your kingdom from the threat of these Barbarians, without relying or seeking help from anyone else.”
A sweet temptation.
However, Daincraft shook his head.
He, too, knew all too well the risk.
Of how dangerous that scroll was.
With just one touch before, Daincraft could feel it. The unimaginable entity residing within the scroll speaking to him.
But there shall be a day he would have to touch this scroll.
In the future where the Barbarians continue to invade and he would run out of loyal subjects who are willing to call upon the Lesser Gods.
But in fact, there was another path for the Dwarven King.
Another force for him to join forces with, other than the Order of Extinction.
Sungchul Kim. And the World Parliament he presides over.
Perhaps if the dwarves asked for help, the World Parliament might be able to save the kingdom from the threat they’re currently facing.
But that was impossible.
Sarasa, as if reading the thoughts the Dwarven king, spoke with a faint smile.
“Or shall you choose to ally with the man who had taken the Kingdom’s sacred artifact without permission?”
“… That shall not come to pass.”
After a long silence, the Dwarven King replied.
It was something that cannot happen for any reason, to ally with the thief whose name came first in the dwarven book of Grudges.
Even if it meant the Kingdom was doomed because of it, Daincraft had no intention of asking Sungchul for help.
“But neither shall I lay my hands on the scroll for now.”
This was the stubbornness of the Dwarves.
However, one dwarf warrior who felt this was wrong.
“…This is not right.”
His name was Arkaard.
The peculiar man who had once served in the punitive squad called Suicide Unit knew Sungchul personally.
That Sungchul was not as evil as the Dwarves thought him to be.
Rather, it is the opposite.
Arkaard remembered how one man stood against evil when all else turned the other way.
Before he left the fortress, he sought out each of his close comrades, leaving them words with some concerning implications.
“We’ll make it through this.”
“Don’t you dare get yourself killed.”
“Survive, no matter what.”
And he did not forget to greet his sons who were serving in the same fortress.
“Stay here. I will be back soon. You need to behave. Got it?”
“Listen well to the family and get along with your friends.”
After a long half-day farewell, Arkaard left the fortress alone and headed south.
To the land of the elves who had once repelled the Barbarians.
“…This is my final mission!”
The dwarf who had somehow managed to say nothing but ominous and ill-boding things all day hoisted his axe on his shoulder and walked towards the old growth forest.
*
[Alchemy Success!]
Following the Archer’s Stone, the Knight’s Stone was created.
“Good! Now it’s my turn!”
Bertelgia opened a page and transfered the power residing within her to Sungchul.
His stats rose slightly.
In addition, the record left by Eckhart, the creator of the Colossi, also appeared before Sungchul.
Sungchul read the records left by a man from thousands of years ago with indifferent eyes.
[The betrayal of the Seven Heroes has been essentially became fact. Vestiare… that woman is trying to turn the other heroes who are yet still innocent. I know that Sajators is aware of their intentions. But he, who lacks firm will and ideals, will not refuse their proposition. Desfort remains silent, but I know. Behind Vestiare, who constantly incites and bribes, is he. He despises humanity, no, this world more than anyone else.]
“…”
This record was now completely meaningless.
Sungchul had long since surpassed the point where such record could have proven useful in anyway.
Sungchul looked away from the record and stood up.
Bertelgia was waiting for him.
“How are you feeling?” Sungchul asked.
“I’m fully recovered!”
Bertelgia seemed to be in high spirits. After all, she had completed the long-awaited quest of the Creationist class and had successfully healed the deep cut that had been driven through her.
“I knew it. Doing the Creationist Quest healed my body. If we knew this was going to happen, we should have visited the Colossi earlier.”
Bertelgia knew nothing. She didn’t know what had happened to her, or what had healed her. Hence, she could speak about the future with such naivety.
“We should quickly go and find the other Colossi so that we can go and do the other quests too. There’s only two of them left!”
As Bertelgia spoke cheerfully, a deep shadow fell over Sungchul’s expression.
‘Bertelgia, it’s not possible to complete any more of these quests.’
There will be a day when he would have to be honest with her and have her face the cold reality.
About what her situation was.
It won’t be easy, and she will likely feel greatly hurt to come to know the truth.
It would be difficult for both Sungchul and Bertelgia.
But it was not yet time.
‘Later, once things calm down. Then, I’ll explain to her.’
Sungchul concluded his thoughts and turned towards the book at the center of the cockpit and muttered to himself.
“Are you Unit 6?”
There was no response to his question, but to Sungchul’s eyes, the book seemed to subtly tremble, reminding him of Bertelgia.
Thud-.
Sungchul stepped out of the Colossus and shut the cockpit’s door.
It was a pitch-dark night.
There was a hint of dawn lingering subtly in the sky, but the thick miasma of death that dominated the e astern sky did not permit any more than a hint.
“…”
A wind from the east brushed past Sungchul. A distinct smell of sulfur stung his nose.
“Let’s go back.”
Sylphid was currently moored in the territory of the Elvan Kingdom.
He could decide where to go and for what purpose after first returning to the ship.
What he needed now more than anything was a glass of alcohol.
He slowly walked back along the deserted street.
On his way back through the trenches, Sungchul ran into the old man he had seen before.
The old man had his eyes closed with a faint smile on his face. He seemed dead at first glance, but he was alive and well.
He seemed to be dreaming. A dream good enough to slightly lift the corners of his mouth.
Whether the old man’s dream was about the happy past or a vague expectation of the afterlife, Sungchul did not know.
But it did give Sungchul something to think about during his walk.
Dwelling on what could have been in that old man’s dream, Sungchul made it back to where the Elves were waiting for him at the Magic Formation.
The elves were also preparing to depart.
“We’ve been waiting for your arrival.”
As Sungchul approached, the elves opened the magic circle.
Basking in the light leading to another space, Sungchul gazed eastward.
The eastern sky that had brightened up at some point was dyed in deep bloody red color. It was an unsettling and eerie sight to behold, as if the heavens itself had declared its abandonment of man.
After passing through several magic circles, Sungchul returned to the land of the elves.
Unlike Ixion that was devoid of life, the Elvan territory was filled with a festive atmosphere.
Perhaps the apocalyptic atmosphere left too strong an imprint in his mind, Sungchul found himself unable to adapt to that atmosphere.
Sungchul headed towards the castle while receiving the hearty salutes of the Elvan soldiers,
It was to belatedly pay his respects to the Elvan king, and to meet up with Marakia as well.
However, upon arriving at the royal court, Sungchul discovered a tense atmosphere within the palace.
Observing the knights and archers rushing out, and the whispering ministers with their mouths covered, Sungchul arrived at the king’s audience chamber.
Inside the audience chamber, there was a man distinct from the elves, short and full of beard, proudly showing his back with an axe on his shoulder.
‘A dwarf? A refugee?’
If he was, he was no ordinary refugee.
If he was, then it would have been impossible to have been granted audience in the rather untrusting Elvan King’s palace.
Sungchul approached the dwarf out of curiosity.
The palace servants recognized Sungchul and loudly announced his arrival.
“The Imperial Commander in Chief has arrived.”
The dwarf also heard those words.
The dwarf turned towards Sungchul who was approaching.
“Now now, who could this be.”
The dwarf said.
Sungchul recognized the dwarf’s face at a glance.
‘This man. Without a doubt, we served together on the Frontline of the Demon Realm.’
Sungchul didn’t remember his name, but the dwarf remembered not only Sungchul’s name but also his prisoner number.
“Aren’t you Number 34? So, turns out Number 34 was the Enemy of the World after all!”
“Who is it?”
Bertelgia, who had been following Sungchul, asked bluntly after seeing the Dwarf seem to recognize Sungchul.
“He and I met.”
Sungchul said as he approached his former comrade, Arkaard, feeling a bit glad to see him as well as a subtle sense of expectation.
‘For Dwarves who enjoy isolating themselves below ground, finding them voluntarily leaving their homes is a rare sight in deed. But Dwarves are still a more welcome guest than a magpie.’
Sungchul’s premonition was spot on.
The dwarf, Arkaard, who had been acting familiar without any formality, immediately changed his demeanor and spoke to Sungchul with due respect.
“The kingdom is in grave danger.”
It didn’t take long for his hopeful expectation to transform into dissapointment.
When Arkaard said that he had come to seek Sungchul not as a representative of the Dwarven kingdom, but on a personal capacity, Sungchul felt the warmth that had been building up within him cool down instantly as if cold water had been poured over it.
‘It seems they have no intention of striking my name from the Book of Grudges, even though the country is in such a state.’
The stubbornness of the dwarfs was legendary.
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“The Lesser Gods they summoned had made their advent on losing battlefield.”
… on the* losing …