# Ep 28. The Millennial Winter, Senas-georu
Ivan silently looked down at Elfihera. She avoided his gaze, rolling her eyes around before finally making a "ugh" sound and lightly tapping his chest.
"W-what are you looking at!"
"I was contemplating whether the responsibility lies with me."
"Y-you really are crazy!! Were you t-trying to avoid responsibility?!"
"I was wondering if perpetrators typically tell victims to take responsibility."
"T-that was my f-first kiss! Y-you took it!"
"It's no different for me either."
"...!!"
Elfihera's ears twitched frantically. She wiggled her toes and bit her lip once.
"T-then... um... would you... like to do it again? J-just to make sure?"
"Now is not the time for such conversations."
Ivan turned his gaze away from Elfihera. It was a complicated issue, and one that needed to be resolved. But in reality, wasn't it an extremely trivial matter right now?
Ivan gestured with his chin toward the horizon.
"Hmm... there are no corpses...?"
"And look at that."
"That...? What? The mountain?"
"Look a bit higher."
Around them, only bodily fluids were scattered about, proving their three days of battle, but there were no actual corpses to be seen.
The elf-shaped monsters made of maggots and leeches had already disappeared from sight.
When she looked in the direction Ivan pointed, all she could see was a snow-covered mountain range rising faintly on the horizon—
"Look higher...? Eck—"
"Yes. That."
Following the ridge of the mountain with her eyes, a faint outline appeared under the dark night sky.
It looked just like...
"A tree...?"
"It kept growing larger even as I killed your ancestors. It seems to have stopped growing now that it's fully matured."
"Then, t-that is...?"
"Yes."
Ivan nodded to the stammering Elfihera.
"The Seven Dragon General of this era."
Elfihera stared blankly at the sky. A massive tree that had grown through the clouds was hanging its empty branches.
A gigantic tree made of monsters, where all the maggots Ivan had killed had gathered and clung together... why a tree of all things?
She could instinctively understand.
That being was created by twisting a Milestone. No, it was the twisted Milestone itself that had gained consciousness and begun to act.
The god created by the elves had taken form after meeting worshippers in the form of monsters.
Therefore, its direction mimicked the culture of the ancient elves.
If one were to name that thing, which grew by devouring the souls of elves who became forests after death...
"The World Tree..."
Elfihera sighed.
The winter that Kalion had postponed for ten thousand years, the ages that had accumulated in Kalion for ten thousand years. This moment when it looks down upon Kalion with malice.
Elfihera, who had regained her magical power, raised her gaze to the massive tree branches.
Through the branches that had grown by tearing through the thick clouds, she could see the sky.
A sky where red stars twinkled. As the daughter of the head of the Astronomical Faction, she too had knowledge in reading the heavens.
Looking at the malice-filled galaxy spread across the entire sky, she murmured.
"The Millennial Winter (Senas-gaimrú)..."
Every bit of sky within sight was ominous. The soul that looked down at her with that sky as its backdrop was equally ominous.
Under that overwhelming celestial energy, Elfihera felt her breath being choked off.
As long as that thing lived, there was no future for elves.
As a member of the elven race, she instinctively understood.
I will devour your kind and prosper eternally. The god created by elves, grown by gnawing on elven souls, was whispering thus.
"Ugh... ah..."
Blood flowed from Elfihera's eyes. She coughed and lowered her head. At that moment, a hand was placed on her hair.
It was warm. When Elfihera flinched and raised her head, Ivan was standing in front of her, blocking her view. As always, straight, unwavering, and solid.
"Don't lower your head, Elfihera. At least you are in a position where you must not despair even when facing a god."
"Y-yes, Lord Yeremov."
"So look straight ahead. Back then, your seniors faced such beings and lived on."
Ivan gently pushed Elfihera. As a senior member of the Hero Party of this era, and as the scout of this era, he always had the duty to illuminate the path ahead.
He was tired. That was natural. He had fought for three days straight. And he had done so while thoroughly avoiding evasive maneuvers, focusing solely on defense.
But what was strange was that there were no life responses such as hunger or thirst. No matter how much he fought, he might get tired, but his stamina never depleted.
Is it the power of this world? Is it the power of that bizarre Seven Dragon General that is still growing without consciousness?
A good agent never gets bogged down in questions that cannot be solved. Ivan was a practical person, so he decided to find a solution instead.
"Sometimes when despair covers the sky."
One foot stretched back for balance. The other foot firmly planted on the ground in front.
A tingling sensation of cutting off nerves. He removed hearing, taste, smell, and touch. What was enhanced by this was purely his sense of time.
Space was mapped out. Time was segmented. Between second and second, across that gap, snowflakes falling from the sky seemed to freeze slowly as if mounted in mid-air.
Not even the wind blows. It cannot be felt. Even the flow of magical power held its breath. Even the malice of that being, even the malice pouring over the whole world at this moment, was the same.
Only silence. That alone remained truly present.
The distorted winter, the winter that had been released after ten thousand years of confinement, stopped in the silence.
And between that, an axe floated.
-Keeeing...
There was no sensation in the hand gripping the axe handle. His right arm was on the verge of necrosis, supported by his left hand in case strength was lacking, and pulled back.
There was only one stance he remembered. The strongest strike he could recall.
The trajectory of that moment when he reached out for hope in the midst of despair.
The Hero Party cannot despair. Must not despair. Because their duty was to be humanity's hope. They had no right to give up.
So in that era when despair covered the sky and devoured humanity, the Hero Party instead—
"Cut through the clouds."
Maximillian's Sky Cleaver.
-Kwajik.
With a flash, time flowed again.
The sky glowed red. The clouds were torn apart. To Elfihera's eyes, there was still only ominous celestial energy, but nevertheless, she stood up without kneeling, taking one more step forward.
-Kwajijijijijik!!!
Once more, a strike pierced through the gap of perception, tearing through the clouds, slashing the sky—
-Kwaaaaang—!!!
The tree branch that had pierced through the clouds fell.
"Y-you... cut that...?"
Elfihera murmured blankly. Even receiving her gaze, Ivan remained standing in his stance, maintaining his focus without saying a word.
Despite that powerful strike, without wavering, standing with an attitude as if he had just completed an ordinary task in a routine manner.
Yes, that's right.
In this era, apart from our fathers. That is, apart from the Hero and his companions.
The man standing before her now was the only one who had killed a Seven Dragon General and returned alive.
"Can you use magic?"
"Yes, yes, Lord Yeremov. I can."
"Can you escape from this space?"
"Escape...? Ah, yes, yes. Possible, theoretically possible..."
It was 'that thing's' power that threw them into this space, but now that she could manipulate part of that power, theoretically, she could attempt an escape.
That's fortunate. Ivan nodded.
"I will issue the operation orders."
"Operation... Yes, yes."
"The final objective is the dismantling of 'that thing'. The immediate task is survival and escape. The subsequent task is to gather elven forces and distribute 'your method'. After that, the combat readiness of the elven forces."
Ivan continued speaking without looking at Elfihera.
"The grand strategy is the salvation of the elves. The minimum condition is to establish the next regime in Kalion."
"W-why are you..."
Why are you saying this at this moment? Elfihera looked at Ivan with a bewildered face. All the things he was saying now, couldn't he accomplish them together once they got out?
But Ivan still did not look at Elfihera.
"Someone needs to buy time. It would be troublesome if that thing left this space before preparations were complete."
"...What?"
She asked, hoping she had misheard, but Ivan remained silently standing.
"Go."
"Lord Yeremov, but!!"
"I've done this before. Go."
Ivan didn't wait for her next words. Instead, he roughly tied his limp right arm to fix it to his body and walked forward with his limping leg.
Elfihera watched his back and reached out her arm, but soon lowered it again.
It was a task that someone had to do, and it was something she couldn't do. Because they each had to handle what they could do.
So, if she respected his judgment, she had to act according to his judgment.
-Pajijik!!
Magic wrapped around her hand.
A pawn crushed by a knight burst out like maggots and surrounded the queen.
The queen is looking at the knight. In the next move, the knight dies. The board collapses.
Far away, white pawns are gathering, but they won't make it in time.
Nothing could be seen in the darkness beyond the game board, but it felt as if something was smiling.
Beolgrin fiddled with the pieces for a moment, then dusted off his seat and stood up.
-Are you giving up?
The sound is not heard. After all, it's just empty darkness with nothing in it. But to the 'will's' question, Beolgrin shook his head.
"I need to make the next move."
-Is there a next move left?
"Of course."
Beolgrin put down the piece he was touching. It's a completely different direction, a completely inappropriate move.
The bishop was standing. Toward the king.
-This goes against the rules.
"From now on, these are our rules."
-You dare to force the rules?
"If you want to play in the mortal world, you must follow the rules of mortals."
Beolgrin reached out into the darkness.
A god does not normally speak to its believers. According to its whims, it occasionally extends its hand.
Then couldn't one grab that extended hand and pull it down?
If the vessel is complete, couldn't one fill it?
So, Beolgrin firmly grasped the caught hand and pulled hard—
"The world of gods belongs to gods. The world of humans belongs to humans."
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, particles to particles.
"So if you stand in the human world, you can no longer be called a god."
As the mythical age passed and the age of civilization began, the gods who walked the earth disappeared.
Long ago, it is said there was a religion that hunted gods. Though neither the method nor the history remains, the ruins of the distant past still lurk beneath the ground.
A god that falls to earth follows the rules of mortals. And the only rule given to mortals is 'mortality'. Nothing in this world can live forever.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, particles to particles.
The world of gods belongs to gods. The world of humans belongs to humans.
"The whims of gods can no longer determine the fate of the earth."
Pulling the caught hand.
"Finally, the world will be truly free."
This is the only way to kill a god in the sky.
"Aurora...?"
The elves who were sailing stared blankly at the blue curtain spread over the rough storm and murmured.
Far away, over the faintly glowing sky of Idranhill, a massive aurora was spreading.
Under the polar light, on the frozen sea, the silhouette of a gigantic tree covering the entire Idranhill flickered.
Ep 28. The Millennial Winter, Senas-georu