The newly forged magic struck down, tracing a vivid trajectory. With a dry boom, screams could be heard.
"Dodge! Damn it, Iser is hit!! Abandon him, give up!!"
Lives scatter like snowflakes on the path to the Eternal Palace.
Despite this, Ivan did not turn his head. His gaze remained fixed straight ahead as he walked, checking his condition, examining his magical power, and inspecting the function of his muscles, bones, and nerves.
"S-Sir..."
Lucia's cautious voice reached him. But Ivan shook his head.
"Don't look at them. Focus on one thing only."
"But..."
"The battlefield we must fight on always takes this form."
Magic erupted without warning. Fire, frost, lightning, explosions, telekinesis, mind control and hallucinations... Every type of magic elves could wield, coming from all directions.
They appeared from thin air without any preparation, and each time, they claimed several lives.
While facing these spells, they also had to avoid the massive tree branches that occasionally plunged down from the sky. Each one was as large as a building, making them even more lethal.
Yet neither the elves nor the Annihilation Squad agents ever retreated. They gritted their teeth and swung their weapons even as their comrades rolled across the frozen ground beside them.
-Look here.
All seven hundred people on this field approached battle with only that thought in mind.
-Look at me.
Not at the Hero Party heading toward you now. Look at us, who would die at the slightest touch.
This was a kind of diversionary tactic. Sacrificing troops to divert attention, then striking with the dagger known as the Hero Party.
Having carried out this strategy throughout his military service, Ivan knew he must move forward without rushing.
Losing the only opportunity these people had created due to impatience would be unforgivable even to himself.
-BOOM!!
On the path to the Eternal Palace, a collapsed building exploded, and something flew toward them.
When he glanced at what had fallen with a thud, he saw a familiar face.
Ivan remembered the names of every agent present here. The "fragment" that had fallen beside him belonged to the sole survivor of the former 3rd Strike Team.
But.
"Do not mourn those who have departed before us."
Biting his lip, he took another step forward. With the same stride and emotion as before.
After all, the greatest tribute would be flowers offered after victory.
I will remember you. All of you.
Ivan continued walking with a coldly hardened face. The Eternal Palace was now coming into view.
Beyond the distant blizzard, a massive tree-like form wrapped in red auroras could be seen.
Each of its branches rivaled the spires near the Eternal Palace. A gigantic tree composed of maggots, leeches, and tiny monsters cast its shadow over them.
"How do we... where do we... uh..."
In response to Rundis's bewildered voice, Ivan answered briefly.
"Straight to the heart."
There was no need to be overwhelmed by its external grandeur. Its heart was the Milestone inside the Eternal Palace, and everything else was secondary.
Even now, those soldiers who continuously challenge it are alleviating the external pressure. The massive body, endless monsters, and sporadically erupting magic—all of it.
The battlefield for the Hero Party is not such a place.
While allies fight a war of attrition, before all allies are literally "consumed," they must cut out the enemy's core.
They are the dagger. And a dagger need not be overwhelmed by the enemy's size and ability. It only needs to deliver one precise strike at the most opportune moment.
"Lucia, Rundis."
"Yes!"
"Carry Elfihera and Oswald. From now on, we run."
With a click, he checked his weapons one last time. Axe, pistol, dagger, explosives, and various potions.
After quickly confirming the state of his armaments, Ivan loaded a bullet into the chamber of his pistol with a click and said:
"Combat ready."
The path to the palace gardens where the Milestone was located was already familiar. Ivan moved without the slightest delay.
The interior of the palace was filled with branches and monsters.
The palace corridors, contaminated by otherworldly magic, twisted. Hallucinations showed walls as passages and open paths as walls.
Some of the monsters that occasionally charged at them were illusions, while real monsters would suddenly emerge from seemingly empty spaces to sink their teeth into them.
However.
'182.'
-CLANG!!
Ivan's axe traced a clean arc as it bisected the attacking monster. Roughly blocking the viscous fluids that spilled out with the back of his hand, he took another step forward.
'183.'
He remembered every step, each stride.
The basic training of an Annihilation Squad agent begins with perfectly correcting three habits.
Mind (心), standardizing the maximum activity possible in one breath.
Body (身), recognizing the maximum efficiency achievable with one's physical form.
Step (步), training to measure each step accurately to the centimeter without error.
This means treating even one's body as a weapon, securing the "catalog specs" of one's own body.
Although when this concept was first established, Enrique had scoffed and declared it impossible. Regardless, Ivan had already internalized this "agent's basic training," so.
'184.'
Hallucinations, auditory illusions, monster ambushes, complexly twisted structures, darkness, sudden blinding lights, and noises that disrupted balance.
All such obstacles were ultimately external. A trained agent and scout of the Hero Party should be able to find their way even in such chaotic situations.
'185.'
If one has trained to calculate time to the second, remember stride length to the centimeter, and never forget a map once seen or an area once breached.
Then one can find their way even in a labyrinth that defies the rules of this world.
-SLASH!!
Cutting off another monster's neck, Ivan stepped forward. 186 steps. 2,318 steps remained to the garden.
"Front!!"
"I-I'm reloading!!"
"I'll handle it!"
Behind Ivan who was clearing the path, his companions were engaged in combat, wielding their weapons. They were sweeping away monsters that surged from outside the areas Ivan had cleared, ensuring his pace wouldn't be broken.
A monster charged at them in elven form. As Lucia's dagger cleanly severed its neck and arms, a monster behind her that had been loading fired an arrow.
A massive shield suddenly expanded in front of Rundis. The arrow struck the shield with a clang and transformed back into a monster, crawling on the floor.
As Rundis slid backward from the impact, Elfihera spread her hands.
"Six o'clock, duck!!"
As Lucia hastily lowered her head, a thunderbolt swept through the area with a rumble. The electricity jumped from monster to monster like stepping stones before hitting the wall and dissipating.
All that remained were the corpses of monsters emitting an acrid smell of gunpowder.
-CLANG!!
Oswald swung his sword beside Elfihera, who was staggering from the discharge. He blocked a monster's attack aimed at Elfihera's nape.
"Die!!"
Oswald, tears of blood streaming down his face, roughly thrust the staff in his other hand into the monster's body. Soon, with a boom, the monster's body shattered into pieces.
"Reloading complete!! Commencing fire!!"
"Urgh!"
At Rundis's shout, Oswald covered his ears and crouched down.
-BOOM!!
With an overwhelming explosion, the monsters crawling from the side disappeared in one strike. Literally, everything above their ankles vanished. The bullets, trailing flames, swept through the monsters and punched holes in the corridor walls.
Through the breached wall, the snowy sky and flickering auroras were visible. The group tapped their dazed ears and continued moving.
Experiencing this process every moment since entering the Eternal Palace.
'281.'
Ivan took another step at the front.
Not a single tree remained in the garden. This ancient forest, created for the eternal rest of countless elves, had become nothing more than a low hill.
A massive stone stood lonely on the snow-covered hill. Reflecting the red auroras, it pulsed like a heartbeat, shooting magical power into the sky.
Thump, thump. With each pulse, auroras appeared and faded. Magic covered the sky like arteries, and between them, ill omens dripped down, scattering throughout Kalion.
Ivan gripped his axe tightly and moved forward. He climbed the hill. Snow crumbled beneath his feet, and withered, twisted remnants like roots or branches crushed under his steps.
Beyond that, finally before the revealed Milestone.
A woman stood with her back turned.
"Ah, you've come?"
Looking up at the stone, calmly.
"My guest. I have been listening to your voice. Along with the voices of many people. Has there ever been a day when I was truly the ruler of this country as much as today?"
Aurora gathered at the woman's gesture. Slowly, brighter. And redder. It collected like viscous blood.
Ivan, holding his axe, gave a small nod.
"Elfihera, stop the Milestone. Oswald, help Elfihera. Lucia and Rundis, support me."
"A futile effort."
The woman finally turned around. Seeing her revealed face, Elfihera barely suppressed a scream and let out a choked gasp.
"My God..."
The woman had no face. There was only a gaping hole like a leech's mouth, lined with saw-like teeth.
But her hair, attire, manner of speech, and voice were so familiar.
"I see."
Ivan nodded expressionlessly.
"Even after giving the Milestone intelligence, magic, and divinity, one thing was still missing."
Among the numerous technologies that elven scholars researched using the Milestone, one thing was lacking. Their arts were undoubtedly the finest products their race could produce, but just one thing.
Something elves never needed to research in the first place.
But for the Seven Dragon Weapons to be created, no. For any being to exist as an "intelligent life form," one essential element.
"Consciousness. You were the final puzzle piece for this thing that had a soul but no spirit."
"A god has descended upon my body. Not the power of this trivial relic, but a god in the true sense. From that sky—"
The woman spoke with vibrant laughter. Ivan stepped forward and raised his pistol, aiming at her.
The woman's head turned precisely toward Ivan. From her mouth now came a noise like the fluttering of insect wings, a mixture of voices—boy and old man, woman and man.
"You, human. Mortal. The divine descent is complete, so kneel and praise the eternal winter that is to come. Pray to your true god with all your pitiful soul."
At her voice, the group bled. Blood tears flowed from their eyes, and clots of blood seeped from their lips.
Ivan narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath. Beolgrin had not been wrong. The powerful pressure the woman emitted felt sweet. Disgustingly so.
The divine power of "that thing." Each time its broken fragments scattered in the air, new strength entered Ivan's arms and legs.
"Originally, I had many names. The curses you whispered whenever you feared the sky and seasons are my names. You, mortal. Do you dare to challenge the heavens with your two arms?"
"This isn't the first time."
Standing like a breakwater before a tsunami, in front of his suffering companions.
Dissipating that pressure, he took another step forward.
"I've met those who believed themselves gods before."
And in the future, he would likely meet many more "gods."
But if there was one thing he had experienced, was certain of, and could attempt. Yes, there was always one truth.
"They died."
Ivan raised his axe, took his stance, regulated his breathing, and gathered the divine power surging through his arms at a single point.
Toward the sky.
-SLASH!!
He struck.