EP.183

The portal, covered in blue ice, was spider-webbed with cracks.

Before swinging the axe, Ivan instinctively realized that he could destroy it with one more strike. He slowly controlled his mana, extended his arm, and opened his mouth.

“Dmitri.”

“Yes, Senior.”

“Immediately after opening the door, if a Type 1 situation is confirmed, retreat and regroup. Inform headquarters of the situation and abandon Kalion.”

“…Yes, Senior.”

The worst-case scenario the Cleanup Unit could face in the Demon King’s territory, a Type 1 situation, meant only one thing: a direct encounter with the Seven Dragon Lords.

During the process of establishing response doctrines for nearly all combat situations, there was truly no way to respond to just that situation.

This was why the tactical orders for the unit always specified a regrouping point. The areas where the Cleanup Unit was deployed were always behind the enemy lines and deep within their territory. In the worst-case scenario, there was a possibility of actually encountering a Dragon Lord.

The principle was that the highest-ranking officer would remain during an encounter with a Dragon Lord. This was the only way to maintain the unit’s survivability. While the most competent agent bought time, the juniors had to escape along the route.

Someone had to relay the situation at the front line to the operation command center. Information such as the current location of a Dragon Lord was classified as top-secret intelligence.

And right here, the highest-ranking officer of this unit was Ivan.

“Elpheira.”

“Yes, yes?!”

“Don’t worry.”

Lastly, Ivan covered Elpheira, who was on his back, with his coat and tightly secured his waist.

“You will definitely return alive.”

Ivan brandished the axe. The mana that had been held back for a moment surged like fire, heating his nerves. Muscles enhanced to their limit writhed roughly.

– KWA-AAAAANG—!!

The noise was so loud that Elpheira’s response couldn’t be heard.

However, the warmth digging into the nape of his neck was comforting.

*

Snow swirled like a canopy. Visibility was extremely restricted, and the storm muted all sound.

Ivan tried to shield his face from the snow but paused and quickly turned his hand behind his back.

Though tightly wrapped, he wasn’t sure. If he could use his mana, maintaining body temperature wouldn’t be difficult, but Elpheira wasn’t in a state to do so right now.

He quickly untied the rope around his waist and pulled the shivering Elpheira into his arms.

“—!!”

Her voice was drowned out. The moment it escaped her lips, the sound was swallowed by the storm. Ivan soon gave up on trying to communicate and tightened the hem of his coat. He could feel her trembling body beneath it.

“—!!!”

Elpheira shouted something. Perhaps he should have taught her sign language. Ivan clicked his tongue at the situation where he couldn’t even perform a spell to communicate.

She placed her hand on the nape of her neck and poured magic into her. For a wizard, magic acts similarly to an electrical current. Just as each machine requires different voltages and power levels, one cannot simply use another’s magic indiscriminately.

Of course, under normal circumstances, it would be an unthinkable act. A delicate magic circuit could easily become overloaded. Normally, Elpheira was capable enough to dismantle and absorb external magic in an instant.

But right now, this is the best option. So, all that remains is to trust.

“—?! –!!”

Elpheira’s urgent shout was felt beneath his hand. The tremor in her nape was vivid. Since it was unlikely to be understood anyway, Ivan ignored Elpheira’s words and surveyed the surroundings.

‘This isn’t indoors.’

It makes sense since a snowstorm wouldn’t rage indoors, but considering the structure of the Eternal Palace, this phenomenon should be impossible.

The courtyard of the Eternal Palace was covered by a massive glass dome.

It was an effort to always provide perfect conditions for the ancestors. To consistently maintain humidity and temperature, control sunlight, and block beasts and pests.

“…”

Ivan barely turned his body to look behind him. The door he had just passed through wasn’t visible.

No door, no building. He narrowed his eyes and cautiously surveyed the area. It was a snow-covered wilderness. Flat with no elevation changes. In the darkness of night, the pure white ground continued to the horizon.

Again, he looked more carefully. To see if there might be any other presence.

‘It’s certain.’

There was no sign of life. Besides Elpheira, who had been close, all the agents present had vanished.

A hallucination spell? No, if that were the case, Elpheira wouldn’t have come through with him.

‘It’s the Dragon Lord.’

Ivan was well aware of this phenomenon. He bit his lip and gripped the axe. There was no denying it anymore. It was a Type 1 situation. Not just a chance encounter, but an invasion level of the Dragon Lord.

A place belonging to those who have become divine by living as mortals, gaining immortality through their souls. It is the territory of beings who have become incarnations of ideas.

The Dragon Lord was akin to another world. All the Dragon Lords he had encountered had been such. It does not merely refer to a well-built fortress or dungeon.

It is a space where the concepts of the world become distorted. To put it simply, yes, it is the world of gods. A world of those who referred to themselves as gods.

So right now, this place is—

—Huuuuu—!!

The Eternal Palace, where he had just set foot, was nowhere to be found, and in this space, only the snowy expanse and storm existed, resembling the Dragon Lord’s domain.

‘Then there must be inhabitants.’

What a god needs most are worshippers. One reason Ivan does not believe in gods is that those tribes cannot achieve perfection on their own.

All Seven Dragon Lords had their own worshippers. As representatives of their respective races, the worshippers were the very embodiment of their entire ethnic groups.

But now, who had been nurtured in this space?

Ydranhill, the city of elves. What kind of magical beast could possibly thrive here to the extent of creating a god?

“—.”

At the edge of the horizon, something was writhing. At first, it seemed like an optical illusion caused by the rough snowfall, but upon closer inspection, it was growing larger.

Ivan moved towards the writhing forms, carefully adjusting his steps to avoid startling Elpheira.

Soon, he could confront the moving things directly.

“Ha.”

It was a deep-sea leech. A grotesque mass made up of creatures frozen in the snow and smaller ones devouring it was wriggling.

“I see. So it’s the sea.”

Ivan looked around with fresh eyes. He stared at the flat, featureless horizon and the thick layer of snow accumulated on top.

Suddenly, he swept his foot across the ground. The solid ground shifted smoothly. Beneath it lay dark ice.

The sea is frozen.

“Techniques for controlling magical beasts, enhancing intelligence, extracting divinity by compressing souls… Quite clever.”

Ivan gazed at the leeches with an icy stare.

The leeches had turned their heads towards Ivan. As if obeying someone’s command. No, as if they were listening to his words. Like they possessed intelligence.

“They’ve enhanced the intelligence of the magical beasts and instilled faith in them. Not the god of the elves, but the god of the magical beasts created by the elves. Were they trying to control a god?”

One of the magical beasts writhed. Its mouth, resembling that of a remora shark, gurgled, making a bizarre sound as if metal was twisting.

Tick, tick, tick. Such noises began layering over one another. Each entity started to produce different sounds following different patterns.

It was an assembly of sounds. Like when an orchestra plays, the distinct characteristics of each instrument blend together to elevate into a single piece of music. Sounds that were but mere noises converged to create a melody.

The sporadic sounds emitted by the leeches began to stutter words.

– Eternity, hi, prosperity, it shall be.

That phrase was endlessly repeated. The leeches swayed their heads as if in a trance, mumbling.

Suddenly, a light flickered beneath his feet. Ivan brushed the snowfall aside with his foot to examine the ground.

The dark sea’s glacier. Below, a cluster of light shimmered faintly, as if it was unfolding from far away like a galaxy.

As he squinted his eyes to take a better look, a vague outline became discernible.

It was a city. An sunken city, no, there were ‘cities.’ Unusual ruins and flowing magical currents illuminated the space vividly.

This is a first-time seeing of the terrain. Ivan does not forget the terrain he has seen once at the unit level of military maps, so the city he is looking down upon is clearly taking on a strange shape.

No area of the United Kingdom has that kind of shape.

A fragment like a piece of trash was floating below amid the current drifting over the city.

“Forty-two islands… huh.”

A military flag emblazoned with Kalion’s insignia fluttered beneath the glacier.

“Eternally, blessed be the cold.”

The maggots began to squirm and intertwine. Ivan tucked Elpheira to one side and grasped his axe. After gently patting her trembling shoulders, he steadied his stance.

The tangled mass of maggots took on a human form. They had pointed ears and were dressed in attire he had never seen before. The maggots formed a bizarre shape, taking up the place where hair should be.

From just the silhouette, it resembled an endlessly growing tree.

“Yere, Sir Yeremov.”

Elpheira whispered softly, her frozen lips moving. She was gazing with terrified eyes beyond the horizon.

The wriggling shapes were beginning to gather more and more on the horizon where snowflakes were swirling. The maggots were forming a silhouette.

Each individual soon took on the shape of an elf, standing like a tree.

The horizon looked like an endlessly sprawling forest.

“Leave me behind. You can, can find a way to live, right alone?”

“Yeah, I can find one.”

Ivan pressed down on Elpheira’s head, hiding it inside his coat.

“I’ve done this before. Stay close to me.”

This was not Ivan’s first visit to the Dragon Lord of the Seven Dragon Lords. He had the experience of being a scout for a Hero Party, surveying the Dragon Lord and returning alive to guide the heroes.

Thus, doing the same for the contemporary party was not a particularly grand experience.

And, a trained agent should not find it difficult to repeat what they have done once.

*

The ancient souls of elves sealed in the deep sea.

The magical beasts that have accumulated by gnawing at those souls.

Raising those magical beasts and bestowing them with intelligence to awaken them as a ‘demon race.’

Creating faith in those demon races and condensing them into a singular entity.

“It’s theoretically possible to directly produce a Dragon Lord level.”

Veolgrin quietly smiled and gestured with his hands. When the knight moved, the opposing hand pushed the phone away.

“But should we call that a god?”

Veolgrin’s question echoed in the darkness.

“I would rather call this a vessel.”

His hand grasped the knight and moved. With a snap, the pawns that had come out first were trampled and burst like maggots.

*

Is it the cold slicing through my flesh, the penetrating mana of this other world, or is it fear?

If the reason my hands shake is due to fear, then it isn’t the fear of my death.

Elpheira cautiously touched Ivan’s cheek with her pale, trembling fingertips.

– Crack.

An elf made of maggots was crushed beneath the axe. The maggots scattered quickly, dwindling beyond the snowy field.

Soon, another elf rose from the horizon.

“Yere, Lord Yeremov.”

Barely prying her frozen lips apart to speak, Ivan swung his axe without even looking at her.

The burst bodies of maggots lay scattered across the snow.

“Do what you must, Elpheira.”

“I… I…”

“You can do it. Until then, don’t think about anything else.”

Even in this situation, his voice remained unchanged. Heavy, solemn, an unwavering low tone. Breath not even slightly roughened, firm yet not cold. It was reassuring.

“Don’t fall behind.”

Elpheira bowed her head at his words.

What needs to be done.

The wizard of the hero party, the wizard who lost her magic, the powerless wizard panting in fear must do something.

Under the mana of this other world that entangles the magic circuit, the wizard of the hero party must do something.

– Click.

The gears of the circuit turned. Although it trembled, overloaded and became hot, twisting its configuration.

It felt as if nerves were being burned by electricity under extreme pain, but still—

The wizard of the hero party has something to do.

Because the heir of Grykencos has something to do.

“Right.”

Ivan chuckled quietly, pressing Elpheira’s head down once, then struck down the head of the oncoming elf with his axe.

Crack, the foul liquid soaked the hem of his coat.

*

A word from the author (Author’s note): Delayed Thoughts: Sleep.

I fell asleep right after getting off work and woke up late. I’m sorry…

This week’s serialization will continue until Saturday.

*

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