Chapter 187

The demonic beasts ran wild. This was because the human who had entered among them kept repeating hit-and-run tactics without any clear purpose.

And it was the same for Yurik. When he leaped to avoid the Holy Knight who shot out like a cannonball from unpredictable places,

A dagger would fly from somewhere along the path the knight had opened, interfering with his retreat.

In the moment he was briefly mesmerized by small, glittering ice crystals, a heavy sword would follow, targeting Yurik.

If it had been just Leandros alone, he would have easily dealt with him.

He couldn't understand when this man, who had been wary of unfamiliar strangers, had gathered such companions and coordinated with them.

No, strictly speaking, he probably hadn't gathered them himself.

Behind Leandros were the former Duchess and the current Duke, from past to present, names that never changed and supported his back for Leandros's sake.

The former Duchess had protected Leandros from Yurik's ambitions and bought him time.

The current Duke, who had inherited nothing but a crumbling castle and empty estates abandoned by residents, had cared for Leandros so he could develop the strength to oppose Yurik.

Was that all? Though Leandros had sworn revenge against Yurik, the emotion underlying that resolve was not pure hatred.

Loyalty to his lord. Trust in the Duke with whom he had experienced various incidents. Camaraderie with the people the Duke had gathered. Anger at having precious things violated.

Yurik coveted each component that made up the current Leandros.

Jealousy toward human-like emotions he could never possess even if he died twice, and toward constantly changing life.

The ugly desire of one who had stopped time and could go nowhere.

A medium-sized demonic beast leaped beneath the airborne Yurik and roared. Dozens of heads wrapped in disgusting entrails came intercepting, targeting Leandros.

An ice dagger struck directly at a head that was flying with small poisonous teeth bared. Russel's claymore brutishly rammed into the side of the beast that was making a shrieking sound.

Immaculate ice that burst through the black mud turned into a quagmire by the beast's blood and ice bound the feet of the falling Yurik.

A ring of ice covering the entire area formed in a circle in the sky above Yurik's head.

Leandros reached toward it and clenched his fist as if grasping something.

"Come."

A blizzard raged within Leandros's eyes. With his single word, the red sky disappeared from within the ice ring. What replaced it was a corner of a galaxy, cold to the point of being chilling and scattering light.

A star twinkled. It was a signal.

Under the deity's gaze, Arcturus's only believer generated infinite holy spears above his adversary.

The divine blessing dwelling in each holy spear transformed into frost and ice, targeting the apostle's enemy.

The multitude of holy spears formed in thousands and tens of thousands of layers was no longer simply a weapon exercising physical force.

A mystery performed by a deity wishing to exercise his will and his faithful apostle. Magic that could not be found in any existing grimoire.

Humans call this a 'miracle.'

Yurik's red eyes widened as he witnessed the mystery of the divine age.

Leandros declared.

"This is the end."

-Krik, kikikik.

The slowly rotating holy spears all fixed in unison. The spears that had found their coordinates shone brilliantly.

The next moment, countless beams of light struck down toward Yurik.

An explosion powerful enough to split the open space of the area burst forth. Light so white it hurt the eyes flickered.

The demonic beasts nearby screamed at the light and crumbled into handfuls of dust. Amelia and Russel also turned their heads from the intense flash and crouched in preparation for the impact.

Several seconds that felt like an eternity passed.

When the sound subsided, Russel and Amelia carefully opened their eyes to look for Leandros.

However, the first thing they saw was a large, deeply sunken crater.

A considerable amount of the black mud that had filled this vicinity until just moments ago had flowed into the crater, filling it to the brim.

Leandros stood at the edge of the crater, looking down.

In the center of the mud was Yurik.

The holy spears that had penetrated his entire body neither melted nor diminished.

Like a broken wooden puppet with severed strings, Yurik rattled as he raised his head.

"Sir Lean, dros."

Yurik's voice, filled with static, proved that the recent attack had been an effective hit.

Leandros was coldly observing that sight.

But that was only momentary. Leandros slowly collapsed on the spot. Amelia and Russel ran over to support him.

"S-sir! Are you, are you alright?"

Instead of answering Amelia, Leandros coughed up blood. Several drops of blood fell onto the ground where he knelt.

It was because he had drawn and used magical power that a human body could not handle.

Russel's complexion turned pale.

"Senior...!"

"W-we need to find somewhere to l-lay you down! We need to m-move quickly."

Leandros firmly gripped the arm of the flustered Amelia.

Though Amelia gasped, Leandros only shook his head and forced himself to stand.

"Sir!"

"...I'm fine. Lady Arnold. More than that, I must finish this."

"It's already f-finished! Are you saying you want to do s-something more here?"

"It's not finished. There's still something I haven't asked him."

Amelia could only watch blankly, unable to stop Leandros. Russel was the same.

Leandros staggered forward to the very edge.

The one who had received the judgment of the holy spears and the judge.

The two faced each other.

Leandros was the first to speak.

"Your Highness."

"......"

"You have taken from me twice."

"I did. Certainly."

"This time, I have won."

"You won't personally deliver the final blow?"

"I think you're not worth it."

Yurik buried in the black mud and the spears piercing him were a vivid blood color.

After hearing the cold response, Yurik briefly looked around.

Most of the demonic beasts had evaporated. The royal palace had become almost ruins. There would be no living creatures surviving in this vicinity, including the capital, other than them.

At least that's how it appeared to the eye.

"Sir, I think advice shouldn't be given rashly. For that reason, from when I met you until now, I've never given you advice or anything like that."

"......"

"Except for just once. Do you remember when you were still green with youth, when you hadn't even received your knight's title yet, and you broke the legs of senior page knights?"

"Perhaps."

"At that time I told you. You shouldn't have just broken their legs, you should have killed them outright."

Leandros's instincts were warning him of something ominous.

He realized that the mud level that had been up to Yurik's knees was gradually rising.

Yurik spoke nonchalantly as if he hadn't noticed the mud that was bubbling faintly and rising rapidly.

"You're hopelessly soft. That's why you can't beat me."

"Lady Arnold! Russel! Get far away-"

Before Leandros could finish speaking.

Mud surged up from the crater. Like in the south, the overflowing mud stained the surroundings, burning and devouring them.

From the midst of it, Yurik asked.

"My father is one who governs death and life. What do you intend to accomplish by throwing me, of all people, into the midst of such a being?"

His unchangingly gentle tone was chilling.

The holy spears embedded in his body melted away one by one with hissing sounds.

His body, hideously pierced with holes, healed itself automatically except for his clothes.

Meanwhile, the mud writhed and melted, taking form as if it had its own will.

Canines, feline predators, reptilian skin, bird wings, insect carapaces, crustacean legs, arthropod snouts appeared and mixed together.

Giant trees, marine life, corals, and extinct creatures were sometimes trapped in sacs that looked like translucent tumors.

In the creator who had shaped everything existing on this planet, the origins of all life were contained in one body.

Swimming things, flying things through the sky, crawling things underground, four-legged running things, things attached to trees - none of them were free.

Origin. Foundation. The first beginning and end of life.

The being who possessed the sole right to ravage life.

Even the three apostles blessed by the forgotten star could not maintain their reason when facing this being.

Facing this 'something' that far transcended the range of human perception, they were merely helpless before the helplessly approaching disaster.

Yurik whispered.

"The Unborn Source, Yog-Sothoth opens his eyes..."

Was it because he had absorbed the precious magical power concentrate that was the Duke?

The deity he loved was beginning to open its eyes earlier than expected. If they waited just a little longer, the divine body would begin to spread widely beyond the royal palace.

But something was lacking for the deity to fully awaken. It would have been good if there was one more thing equivalent to Duke Arenheit.

It was a bit awkward for him to offer his own body here, so what should he do?

Yurik's red gaze, which had been pondering, turned.

Three apostles covered in mud. Beings who had made covenants with the forgotten deity.

"There was something good right here. I had completely forgotten."

Unidentifiable beasts rose from the black mud. They were crude and terrible forms, as if made by randomly tearing off parts of things on the ground.

When Yurik snapped his fingers, with a cheerful 'snap' sound, the black sculptures charged toward their prey.

Leandros spat out a short curse and forced his unhealthy body to move.

Perhaps because his reactions had dulled due to internal injuries, the toe of a muscular sculpture's hand seemed to barely graze his foot.

This would be difficult. Even if he didn't know about himself, Amelia and Russel would have accumulated considerable fatigue from the sustained combat.

If possible, he needed to settle the match in a short time, even by sacrificing himself.

But that was close to impossible.

The black mud that 'created' countless sculptures, the Unborn Source.

Yurik receiving the absolute protection of the Source.

In the distance, he could see Amelia screaming softly as she threw her body to avoid a winged sculpture attacking her.

Russel was crossing swords with a giant humanoid sculpture, but was gradually being pushed back by the sculpture's heavy forearms.

Moreover, attacks didn't work on such things. It was natural since they were beings that didn't allow physical force in the first place.

Furthermore, even if he drew out his maximum power now, he would have at most one fatal blow.

What on earth should he do?

"Kyaah!"

"My lady!"

A vicious bird sculpture that had passed right through Amelia's ice dagger bit into her torso.

Seeing this, Russel tried to run over, but a sculpture thicker than an elephant's leg blocked his path and threw a punch.

The fist blocked by the claymore stopped, but Russel's hands were also trembling.

Meanwhile, in other places, sticky mud clumped together to form bizarre shapes. The Unborn Source was essentially a device that unconsciously generated life.

Russel, who had been holding out briefly, was knocked away by the sculpture's other fist. After rolling on the ground several times, he leaned against his sword with difficulty.

Amelia had barely escaped the bird's beak, covered in blood. Due to severe bleeding, she too was curled up and rolling in the shallow mud.

The battle situation reversed in an instant. Leandros stabbed his sword into the crown of the sculpture chasing him, but mud burst in all directions and fell down with pattering sounds.

Leandros tasted the edge of despair along with the fallen ones.

Would he have to fight until death like this?

With Amelia and Russel fallen and only himself remaining? And eventually until he too ran out of strength and knelt in that place?

It was then.

Someone's recitation was heard.

[-Despair stretched on like an endless abyss.]

Leandros raised his head.

Russel, who had been lying down, also found the source of the voice.

Amelia's unfocused, cloudy eyes wandered through the vision filled with black mud before concentrating on one place.

There was someone walking barefoot over the overflowing turbid mud.

In his hands was an open book with a cover red as blood.