Chapter: 185
Ivan looked down at Elpheira without saying a word. She avoided his gaze, darting her eyes around, and then let out a sound as she hit Ivan’s chest.
“What are you looking at?”
“I was pondering whether the responsibility lies with me.”
“Are you… are you really insane?! Were you trying not to take responsibility?!”
“I was just wondering if the perpetrator usually faces accountability from the victim.”
“That was my first kiss! You took it from me!”
“It’s not like I’m any different.”
“…!!”
Elpheira’s ears twitched madly. She wiggled her toes, bit her lip, and said, “Then… um… um. Do you want to do it again? Just to confirm?”
“This isn’t the time for that conversation.”
Ivan turned his gaze away from Elpheira. It was a complicated matter that needed to be resolved, but right now, it felt like an exceedingly trivial issue.
He pointed towards the horizon.
“Hmm… there aren’t any corpses…?”
“And look over there.”
“What? That mountain?”
“Look a little higher.”
All around, only bodily fluids were scattered, evidencing three days of battle, yet there were none that could be called corpses.
The monsters that had taken Elven form, made of maggots and leeches, had completely vanished from sight.
As Ivan raised his head in the direction he pointed, there stood a faint outline of snow-capped mountains on the horizon.
“Look higher…? Ugh—.”
“Right. That.”
As he followed the mountain ridge with his gaze, a blurred silhouette emerged beneath the dark night sky.
It was as if—
“A tree…?”
“Yes, it grew ever larger while killing your ancestors. I suppose it has stopped growing now that it has matured.”
“Then, that…?”
“Exactly.”
Ivan nodded to the stuttering Elpheira.
“It’s the Seven Dragon Lords of that era.”
Elpheira gazed upward, lost in thought. A massive tree, grown by ripping through the clouds, hung its empty branches down.
The maggots Ivan had killed had all flocked and clung to this giant tree made of monsters… Why a tree, of all things?
She realized it instinctively.
That was a being created by twisting the Milestone. No, it was the Milestone itself that had gained self-awareness and begun to operate.
The god they created, the Elves, had taken form after encountering a worshipper that was a monster.
So, its inclination mimicked the culture of the ancient Elves.
If one were to give a name to this thing that fed on the souls of the dead Elves who became the forest and grew—
“The World Tree….”
Elpheira sighed.
The winter that Kalion had withheld for millennia, the time that had accumulated in Kalion for millennia. It looked down upon Kalion with evil intentions at this very moment.
With her mana restored, Elpheira raised her gaze to the giant branches of the tree.
The sky peeked through the branches that had grown by tearing apart the dark clouds.
A sky filled with shining red stars. As the daughter of the leader of the Astronomy Faction, she also had knowledge of reading the stars.
Muttering as she gazed at the malevolent galaxy spread across the sky.
“The winter of ten thousand years (Senas-gaimrú)….”
The sky that her eyes could touch was ominous. The spirits that looked down upon her, bathed in that sky, were equally ominous.
Under that overwhelming celestial phenomenon, Elpheira felt her breath catch.
As long as that thing lives, the Elves have no future.
She realized it instinctively as a survival instinct as a member of the Elf race.
It whispered that it would devour your kind and prosper eternally. A god created by Elves, growing by gnawing on the spirits of Elves, was whispering that.
“Ugh… ah….”
Blood streamed from Elpheira’s eyes. She coughed and lowered her head. At that moment, a hand was placed on her head.
It was warm. Startled, Elpheira looked up to see Ivan standing before her, blocking her view. As always, he stood firm and unshakable.
“Do not lower your head, Elpheira. At the very least, you are in a position where you must not despair even when facing a god.”
“Yes, yes, Sir Yeremov.”
“Then look ahead. In those days, your predecessors lived in the presence of such things.”
Ivan gently pushed Elpheira. As the senior member of the Hero Party, and as a front-line scout of the era, he had a duty to light their path.
He was exhausted. It was only natural. They had fought for three consecutive days, completely focusing on defense without any evasion.
However, there was something strange: there were no feelings of hunger or thirst. No matter how much they fought, even if they were tired, their stamina did not deplete.
Was it the power of this world? Or the bizarre powers of the Seven Dragon Lords, still growing without consciousness?
A truly excellent operative wouldn’t get bogged down by unsolvable questions. Ivan, being a practical person, decided to find a solution instead.
“When despair sometimes clouds the sky.”
One foot stretched back for balance. The other foot firmly planted on the ground.
Crack, the numbing sensation severed the nerves. Hearing, taste, smell, touch—the senses were all eliminated. What was enhanced was solely the sense of time.
The space became a visual expression. Time divided. The gaps between seconds stretched, and the snowflakes falling from the sky felt as if they were slowly frozen mid-air.
Even the wind did not blow. It was imperceptible. The flow of mana swallowed its breath. The evil of that being, even the malice pouring down upon the entire world at this very moment, was the same.
Only stillness remained. That was all that was genuinely left.
The distorted winter, released after a millennia, came to a stop in the tranquility.
And in that stillness, the axe moved gracefully.
Swish…
The hand gripping the axe handle felt no sensation. The right arm, nearly withered from near necrosis, was supported by the left hand for balance.
There was one posture he remembered. The strongest strike he could recall.
The trajectory of the moment he reached out for hope amidst despair.
The Hero Party could not despair. They must not despair. Their duty was the hope of humanity. They had no right to give up.
Therefore, in the times when despair covered the sky and consumed humanity, the Hero Party would instead—
They severed the clouds.
Maximilian’s slash through the sky.
Crack!
With the roar, time flowed.
The sky turned red. The clouds ripped apart. Elpheira still saw only the ominous celestial phenomenon, but she stood, refusing to kneel, taking one more step forward.
Crack, crack!!!
Once again, a strike penetrated the gap of perception, tearing through the clouds, scratching the sky—
Crack-a-boom—!!!
The branches of the tree pierced through the clouds as they fell.
“Did, did you… cut that…?!”
Elpheira murmured in astonishment. Even as her gaze fell upon Ivan, he remained silent, maintaining his posture.
Not wavering even in the face of that tremendous strike, standing there as if he had finished an ordinary task.
Yes, that was right.
In this era, excluding their fathers, in other words, excluding the heroes and their companions.
The man who stood before her now was the only one who had slain a Sin and returned alive.
“Can you use magic?”
“Yes, yes, Sir Yeremov. I can.”
“Can you escape this space?”
“Escape…? Ah, yes, yes. It’s theoretically possible….”
Although it was ‘that’ power that had thrown them into this space, if he could manipulate some of ‘that’ power now, then attempting to escape would indeed be possible in theory.
That was a relief. Ivan nodded.
“I will give you the operation order.”
“Operation…? Yes, yes.”
“The ultimate goal is the construction of ‘that.’ The immediate objectives are survival and escape. The subsequent objective is to rally the Elf forces and spread ‘your methods.’ Afterward, we aim to enhance the fighting strength of the Elf forces.”
Ivan continued without looking at Elpheira.
“The grand strategy is the salvation of the Elves. The minimum condition is to establish the next government in Kalion.”
“Why… are you saying that now?”
Elpheira looked at Ivan with a bewildered expression. Everything he was saying now was something he could accomplish if they went together.
But Ivan still did not gaze at her.
“Someone has to buy time. It would be problematic if ‘that’ escapes this space before preparations are complete.”
“…What?”
Hoping she had misheard him, she asked, but Ivan remained quietly standing.
“Go.”
“Sir Yeremov, but!!”
“I’ve done it before. Go.”
Ivan did not wait for her next words. Instead, he carelessly bound his limp right arm to stabilize it and stepped forward with a limp leg.
Elpheira watched his back, reaching out her arm, but soon lowered it again.
It was a task that someone had to do, but she could not do it. They each had to handle what they could.
So, if she respected his judgment, she had to act according to his judgment.
Zing!!!
Mana engulfed her hand.
—
The Pawn crushed beneath the Knight exploded like maggots and surrounded the Queen.
The Queen stared at the Knight. The Knight would die with the next move. The board would collapse.
In the distance, white Pawns were gathering, but they wouldn’t be able to time it right.
Nothing in the darkness beyond the game board was visible, but it felt as if a smile was emanating.
Veolgrin fiddled with the materials for a moment before shaking off the dust and standing up.
Are you giving up?
There was no sound. It was merely an empty darkness devoid of anything. However, in response to some will’s inquiry, Veolgrin shook his head.
“I’ll proceed with the next move.”
Is there still a next move?
“Of course there is.”
Veolgrin set down the materials he was handling. A move completely different in direction, entirely inappropriate.
There stood a Bishop. Facing the King.
That is against the rules.
“From now on, this shall be our rule.”
How dare you enforce rules?
“If you wish to play in a mortal world, you must adhere to the rules of mortals.”
Veolgrin reached his hand into the darkness.
Originally, gods do not speak to their deities. They sometimes reach out only in accordance with their whims.
Then could he not grasp the outstretched hand and pull it down?
If a vessel was complete, could he not fill it?
Thus, Veolgrin firmly grasped the grabbed hand and pulled with all his strength—
“The world of gods returns to the gods. The world of humans belongs to humans.”
Ash to ash, dust to dust, and particles to particles.
“If you step into the world of humans, a god can no longer be called a god.”
With the era of myths giving way to the era of civilization, the gods that walked the earth vanished without a trace.
Long ago, it is said that a certain religion hunted the gods. There are no methods or histories left. Yet remnants of a distant past still lurk beneath the ground.
A god on the ground abides by the rules of mortals. And the only rule granted to mortals is ‘mortal nature.’ Nothing in this world can live forever.
Ash to ash, dust to dust, and particles to particles.
The world of gods belongs to the gods. The world of humans belongs to humans.
The whims of gods can no longer sway the fate of the earth.
Pulling the captured hand.
“At last, the world shall be truly free.”
This was the only way to kill the god above the sky.
—
“Aurora…?”
The Elves sailing were gazing blankly at the blue curtain spread over the rough storm.
Far away, a massive aurora was unfurling over the dimly glowing skies of Idrenhill.
Beneath the northern lights, a silhouette of a massive tree was swaying over the frozen sea, covering the entirety of Idrenhill.
Ep 28. The Ten Thousand Year Winter, Senasgeor.
