Most of the members of the Eclipse Order, led by Deus Macallian, supported Alon. However, they acted that way solely because Alon was considered Deus’s benefactor. In reality, their feelings toward Alon were close to indifference. To the knights of the Eclipse, Alon wasn’t particularly special, aside from being Deus’s benefactor.

Even if there were emotions involved, it was only due to the jealousy some young knights felt when they saw how Deus treated Alon. Other than that, there were hardly any feelings toward him at all. In short, the knights didn’t hold particularly positive sentiments toward Alon.

But at least for this moment—

“Vice Tower Master, may I ask you a favor?”

“Yes, yes… What kind of favor…?”

The knights could only stare blankly, mouths agape.

“Could you make a potion of Leviteon?”

“Remiteon’s… potion?”

“Yes. Can you do it?”

“Ah, yes, of course! Absolutely…!”

Not only the knights of Eclipse but even the Silver Knights, who were just recently berated by Penia, were shocked. This was because they knew that the vice tower master in front of them had a personality as eccentric as her genius magical abilities.

In fact, it wasn’t just them. Any knight who had ever gone on an expedition to the north would have heard stories of the ‘Hysteric Penia.’ 

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When heading north, wizards from the Blue Tower, who were often summoned at the same time, would always complain about Penia’s unbearable personality, so it was impossible not to know.

Thus, the knights, aware of Penia’s notorious character, were even more astonished.

“Hmm, just to check, do you happen to have or know how to make the Elixir of Exceptionality?”

“Uh, uh… I don’t have it, but I think I could make it…”

“Could you also make that for me?”

“Uh, well, it takes a lot of time, and I have other things to do…”

“I really need it.”

“I-I’ll do it! I promise I will…!”

The knights couldn’t believe what they were seeing. 

Penia, the vice tower master of the Blue Tower and a 6th-ranked wizard, was obediently following the Count of Palatio’s orders.

No, more than obediently; she was contorting herself to avoid upsetting him in any way. The knights found it utterly unbelievable.

And of course—

“W-what… the hell…?”

The same went for the wizards who had been dispatched from the Blue Tower with Penia, enduring her constant scolding and shedding tears of blood from the torment.

“What… is this?”

“Am I seeing things?”

“Has the vice tower master completely lost it?”

The wizards, who looked on as if they were witnessing the end of the world, gasped in disbelief.

“She refused to make that last time because it was too difficult and spent weeks complaining… but now she’s willing to make it?”

“Am I seeing this wrong? Did someone cast an illusion spell as a joke?”

“Are you stupid? If someone had cast an illusion spell, they’d have to cast Silence on the vice tower master as well, and who has that kind of spare magic power?”

They were so shocked that they even subtly tried to dispel any lingering magic, thinking perhaps another wizard was playing a trick.

And then—

“Thank you.”

“No, it’s something I should do.”

“How much payment will you need?”

“Pa-payment, you mean?”

“It’s only natural to pay for the favor I’ve asked. Just tell me, and I’ll have it sent to the magic tower later.”

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“Oh, well—”

“However, if it’s a bit expensive, the payment might be delayed. The finances haven’t been great lately.”

“Just… just give me 1 gold coin.”

“…1 gold coin? Isn’t that too cheap?”

“No, it’s fine…! Yes, it’s totally fine…!”

“…Well then, I won’t refuse such a generous offer.”

As they watched Penia, who was smiling and accepting just one gold coin for two potions that normally cost hundreds of gold coins to make, both the knights and the wizards wore blank expressions. They soon all turned their gazes toward Alon.

The knights’ faces were filled with amazement, while a look of reverence appeared on the wizards’ faces.

‘It seems like there’s some misunderstanding, but at least I got the potions easily,’ Alon thought, as he returned to Evan.

“…Wait, Count, when did you start speaking informally with the vice tower master?”

“Hm? I’m a noble, so I just spoke informally.”

No way…

“…Excuse me? But, as far as I know, the vice tower master is treated as a quasi-noble, and it’s standard etiquette to speak formally to each other…”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes.”

Realizing that he had been somewhat rude to Penia, Alon let out a quiet sigh.

***

‘With this, I’ve gathered all the cards I need to play.’

Not long after, Alon obtained the ‘Leviteon’s Potion’ and the ‘Elixir of Exceptionality’ from Penia. A few hours later, he heard Deus’s words.

“Retreat?”

“Yes.”

Deus began explaining the current situation, and Alon nodded slightly as he listened.

‘It’s true, they don’t seem capable of fighting.’

Alon recalled the many injured soldiers and the expressions of terror on their faces when he had arrived at the forward base.

‘The knights looked relatively fine, but their expressions weren’t good either. The only people walking around with calm expressions were the wizards, who were here to investigate the ritual, not to fight.’

‘As for the wizards… they already fled.’

Alon glanced around. Unlike earlier, when the area was bustling with wizards, there were none to be seen since Penia had delivered the potions. 

Realizing that the wizards had already hit the escape button after sensing the danger at the forward base, Alon heard Deus’s question.

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“What do you intend to do?”

Without hesitation, Alon replied.

“I will stay here.”

The reason Alon had brought so many items to Caliban, including borrowing the Ring of the Arrogant One from the royal family, was to deal with the Outer God.

Without dealing with the Outer God, the future he foresaw would be nothing but a disaster.

As Alon was reviewing the plans in his mind—

“Waaaahhh!!”

Suddenly, a terrible scream came from the distance. He immediately stood up and rushed outside the tent.

There, he saw a wizard screaming wildly, along with other wizards fleeing frantically toward the forward base.

And then—

!!!

Behind them, the undead were approaching.

“It’s the undead!”

“Aaaaah!”

The soldiers screamed, as if recalling a recent nightmare, and gathered at the entrance with their swords drawn. The knights, too, began to ready their weapons as confusion and fear spread across their faces.

Despite the sudden chaos, Alon quickly grasped what had happened.

‘A raid…!’

Realizing that the Outer God had moved even faster than the fleeing wizards anticipated, Alon’s thoughts came to a halt as—

“Everyone, draw your swords!”

With Fiola’s urgent shout from the barracks, the battle began.

The undead who charge in blindly without any tactics or strategy are far inferior in combat strength compared to a well-trained army. Even if the necromancers of this continent were to raise the undead through necromancy, they could never overcome well-trained soldiers.

However—

“Please, save me!”

“Aaagh!”

This unit of undead was fundamentally different from those controlled by ordinary necromancers.

“Die! Just die! Please!”

The soldiers thrust their spears into the undead.

Some aimed for the heart, others the head, and some targeted the legs. The soldiers’ spears pierced various parts of the undead bodies. If these were corpses raised by a necromancer, the damage inflicted would have been so severe that they should have already ceased to function.

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But—

“……”

Even with spears lodged in their bodies, the undead continued to advance, the sight of them walking forward with spears still embedded was more than enough to instill terror in the soldiers.

Squelch!

“Grrk—!”

A soldier instantly died, his throat pierced by the sword of an undead. The situation became even more dire as the undead immediately attacked the soldier next to him.

The seed of fear planted in the soldiers’ instincts was more than ready to bloom. Their formation crumbled, and in an instant, the battlefield descended into chaos. This, in turn, increased the number of deaths, which only led to more undead rising from the fallen, creating the worst kind of vicious cycle.

Yet, despite the grim situation, the soldiers gritted their teeth, their bloodshot eyes wide open as they continued to fight. Why? Because they still had hope.

The knights, wielding aura-infused weapons, were quickly cutting down the overwhelming numbers of undead, reducing them by the thousands. The wizards, who had joined the battle later, were eliminating the undead even faster than the knights.

Among them, the magic unleashed by Penia was particularly astounding.

“Icicle.”

Crack—! Crash-crash-crash!

Her magic was nothing short of extraordinary. Hundreds of undead advancing toward the soldiers were instantly frozen and shattered into pieces, a truly magnificent spectacle.

However, even more than Penia, the figures that filled the soldiers with hope were the two Master Knights present: Fiola and Deus. Of the two, Deus’s presence was especially overwhelming.

Sssht!

Dozens of undead surrounded him. Some were soldiers with large wounds on their heads, others were knights with gaping holes in their chests. But—

In an instant, the hundreds of undead around Deus suddenly halted, as if time itself had stopped.

And then—

Swish—

With a single light horizontal sweep of Deus’s sword, all the frozen undead were precisely cut in half.

One strike. Hundreds of bodies.

An overwhelming display of superhuman strength that brought hope to the eyes of the soldiers and knights. But just then—

Boom!

With a deafening explosion, the Outer God descended in the middle of the battlefield.

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For a moment, the movements of the undead halted, and the eyes of the soldiers shifted toward the new arrival. The sheer overwhelming presence of the Outer God filled the battlefield, and even Deus and Fiola couldn’t hide the tension that appeared in their eyes.

As the ashen dust cleared, revealing the figure of a man, everyone held their breath.

Though he wore the clothing of the barbarians, his form had transcended anything that could still be called human. His massive physique and blue skin indicated that this being had long left the bounds of humanity.

And then—

[Barbarian, do not defile the sins of those who do not know honor.]

With that, the voice of Ulthultus echoed, and the undead began to rise again. The bodies that had been shattered into pieces by Penia started to mend, fusing together like slime and regenerating their physical forms. The corpses that had been severed by Deus’s sword also began to reform.

In that moment—

Sssht!

Fiola, who had been silent until just moments before, suddenly appeared right in front of the Outer God. His sharp instinct led him to realize that the tide of the battle had shifted the moment the undead resurrected, and they could no longer secure victory. 

As one of the fastest Master Knights of Caliban, possessing the power of ‘divine speed’, he struck before Ulthultus could even react.

Thunk!

Fiola’s sudden strike pierced Ulthultus’s heart.

But—

Only the tip of his sword had managed to penetrate.

[Uhh.]

Ulthultus’s gaze shifted toward Fiola, filled with contempt.

[Barbarians know no honor. Those who do not uphold honor abandon their very existence. Furthermore—]

Crack!

[They also forsake the nobility of the soul.]

Thud.

Fiola’s body, which had just been gripping the sword, collapsed to the ground. His head was no longer attached to his body.

However—

[There is no honorable death for those who disregard all value.]

With these words, Fiola’s headless body began to twitch and rise, convulsing as it stood up once again. Seeing this horrifying spectacle, everyone present understood the grim reality: this battle was lost.

Fear spread across the soldiers’ faces, and despair began to take hold on the faces of the knights and wizards alike.

Even Penia and Deus, who had far surpassed the limits of ordinary humans, were not immune to this despair. In fact, they had felt it even earlier than the others. 

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With their heightened awareness, they knew that the being before them possessed far greater power than they had anticipated. 

As cries of agony and despair echoed from the undead, they were consumed by hopelessness—except for one man.

“O mighty god of duels, Ulthultus.”

While everyone else was sinking into despair, a single man began walking toward the giant, passing between the living and the undead.

Step step.

Neither slow nor fast.

“In accordance with the great oath of Kalgunius.”

The face of the man walking toward the giant remained calm, even amidst this hellish scene of despair. As if he had been through such an experience countless times.

And that man—

“I, Alon Palatio, in the name of the great oath—”

The Count of Palatio—

“—demand a duel of Babylonia.”

With a swirl of his wrist, Alon raised his arm, and a bracelet glowing with a deep gray light shone as he stood face-to-face with the giant.