Chapter 213
Blaze.
Before the blue blazing sea of fire.
The Constricting Fallen, lifted by the neck gripped in his hand.
On Zellalin's face, fear bloomed alongside a faint ecstasy.
'As expected.'
The anomaly that made the gods appear.
An awl hidden in grains of sand.
A sharp sword directed at the gods.
A gray sword, neither white nor black.
"Are all you Fallen perverts? Why are you smiling while being choked?"
[I can tell you if you're curious.]
A voice came without her opening her mouth.
Kallias narrowed his brow.
"No, just die."
Red dragon power explosively surged in his grasp.
Kallias, who had formed sharp dragon claws with his aura, attempted to tear the Fallen's throat.
However.
"......You live up to your name."
Creak.
Since when, fine threads wrapped around his entire body were constricting him.
The Constricting Fallen.
Her threads were so thin they were invisible to the eye, secretive, and resilient.
Just a single thread had wrapped around him like a snake coiling around its prey, yet he couldn't move.
Zellalin smiled with difficulty and said.
[Would you take a look at my collarbone?]
Glancing, there was a tattoo.
It was a number.
333.
[I'm not sure if you know, but we Fallen are all assigned Numbers. The smaller the number, the higher the rank, but those who receive Triple Numbers are treated as exceptions.]
Triple.
It refers to those whose first, second, and third digits are all the same.
[The Number of the Fallen you killed before was 600. She's quite my junior.]
At this, Kallias let out a hollow laugh and growled.
"Are you threatening me?"
The Undying Fallen was one far below him. It seemed like she was telling him not to be arrogant. Zellalin formed a peculiar smile.
[Of course not. I'm simply saying I didn't come to fight.]
"You tried to abduct someone, and now you say you didn't come to fight. That level of nonsense is mental illness."
Click.
Kallias released her neck.
Cough, cough. Zellalin, who coughed with difficulty, forced a smile.
Swoosh.
The threads constricting Kallias's entire body had disappeared without a trace.
'Zellalin......'
Serial Number (333).
The meaning of this number was quite significant.
In the land of the Fallen. The number 333 was her authority and simultaneously the magnitude of her power.
(666), (555), (444), (333), (222), (111). It was easy to see them as the commanders of each Fallen army.
Seeing 333 written, it meant she was the head of all Fallen with numbers in the three hundreds.
3rd Legion Commander Zellalin.
The Constricting Fallen.
'A formidable one came from the start.'
If she willed it, it meant all Fallen numbering in the hundreds would move.
Even for Kallias, he couldn't simultaneously face over a hundred Fallen.
The Fallen were mostly Saints.
They were those who had broken through the wall and firmly maintained their mental image, only to fall.
Unlike a thousand years ago.
The Fallen and dragons prioritized quality over quantity.
'It seems they need me, but......'
Without knowing the exact reason, he couldn't rashly follow them.
Besides, he still had things to do.
[But how did you break my Ruachini and move?]
"I have a talent for music."
It wasn't difficult.
From the moment the harp sound reached his ears, he felt the strange energy mixed within the sound penetrating through his ears, through his entire body, into his body.
Probably because Kallias possessed both dragon power and demonic power that could be considered the energy of nature itself.
And because he had the talent called a Bard's Blessing, he could break through it.
Otherwise, he would have been helplessly unable to move like the others.
[I've never had it broken by other Triples before...... I was really surprised. As expected of the prophecy, I suppose?"
"Prophecy?"
[Yes. You're quite famous, you know. Honestly, I was half-doubtful when you killed the Weeping Fallen and the Undying Fallen. But you truly incurred the gods' wrath as the prophecy said. That's why I stepped forward like this.]
Unlike her elegant harp playing, Zellalin had a voluptuous figure and a heart-shaped tattoo on her eyelid.
Every time she blinked, the heart was completed, but when her eyes were open, only half of the heart shape was visible.
It was quite subtle and bizarre, so Kallias found himself looking at the tattoo without realizing it.
[Is it fascinating?]
"No."
[When my eyes are open, everything I love dies, so I engraved this tattoo meaning not to love anything.]
"You're telling me things I didn't even ask about."
[I thought you might be curious. I have so many things I'm curious about regarding you.]
A peculiar woman.
The Constricting Fallen, Zellalin.
It was Kallias's first time seeing her as well. But she was also a woman he didn't want to get entangled with.
"I don't want to be involved in your power struggles, so piss off."
The fact that a Legion Commander like her stepped forward was no ordinary matter.
Perhaps this matter was something the Fallen couldn't just watch either.
If he incurred the gods' wrath, they would be on the same side as himself, who harbored hostility toward the gods.
He guessed this might be their intention.
[But will you be alright? I saw it while coming here, and an enormous army was advancing. If you stay here, it'll be very, very dangerous~]
Looking at Zellalin smiling broadly, Kallias scoffed.
"Didn't you say so yourself?"
[What?]
That other ones are coming too.
"Zellalin. I just need to receive help from someone other than you. Besides, the large army advancing is something I intended. It's what I wished for, so it's not a problem."
If attention was focused this way, it was rather welcome.
[You intended it? No, why on earth...... Ah.]
Smirk.
Her red lips drew an arc.
[For Karpe, right?]
It was quite unpleasant.
Seeing her react as if she had discovered a weakness called Karpe, he couldn't leave her alone.
"You're rushing your death."
Shring.
Kallias, who pressed his sword against her neck, pondered deeply.
Whether he could kill her, or not.
And right at that moment.
[It'd be more comforting to kill that insolent bitch here. Gray.]
Thud, thud. A man walked in.
A new Fallen draped in a black coat with 555 engraved on his cheek.
A man who had a massive double-edged axe slung over his shoulder, bigger than his own body.
And beside him was a man with a somewhat small build, with a single sword hanging at his waist.
[Don't do pointless things.]
On the back of the hand grasping the sword at his waist, 666 was engraved.
[Yeah, yeah, let's not waste energy for nothing. You'll have to come with us anyway. With enemies on all sides, where could you possibly go. Come. We'll hide you. From the gods' eyes.]
"Are you telling me to fall?"
555 was a massive orc.
Meanwhile, 666 was an elf. A Fallen elf wielding a sword. It was his first time seeing one, so it was somewhat curious.
[There's no need for that. In the first place, the gods won't even let you fall. The very fact that they're trying to kill you is probably because they want to bring you under their own control.]
[You won't even be able to fall in the first place. They won't allow it.]
It was a laughable statement.
Can't even fall of one's own accord.
Even that was according to the gods' whims, the Legion Commanders swallowed their displeasure despite being the ones who said it.
[How about coming with us. There's someone who wishes to meet you.]
"Veria?"
[Have you met her?]
"Briefly."
[That one is also deeply interested, of course. But no. There's someone else who wants to meet you.]
"Who."
[The First Fallen.]
The first to fall, the parent of all Fallen.
The tragic Fallen who served no one, yet because of whom others fell.
The progenitor who created the word devil.
Devilvice.
Upon hearing that name, Kallias's eyes narrowed.
'This is troublesome.'
The First Fallen.
A Fallen who stood at the apex of the Fallen.
His desire to not face him so soon was strong.
It was natural to not want to face an opponent he couldn't hold the initiative against.
Kallias was a sword.
A sharply honed sword.
But it was also a sword he didn't want to be swung. A knight, by nature, swears loyalty and obeys orders as a sword. If that was the standard, Kallias was no knight.
Being wielded by someone was out of the question.
It didn't suit his disposition either.
It was far from loyalty as well.
Therefore, he had to refuse all the more.
"What if I refuse?"
[We'll have to take you by force. Our lives are on the line here too.]
A strange aura consumed the area.
A peculiar pressure as if the atmosphere was oppressing them pressed down on their shoulders, and blazing fighting spirit stung their skin.
He realized things had become troublesome.
Normally, he would have fought.
But given the current balance, it wasn't appropriate.
'It's been a while.'
It felt like hitting a wall.
Like the feeling of being thrown outside for the first time after becoming a pilgrim and encountering bandits.
Behind him, a group of pilgrims trying to kill him, ahead of him, vicious bandits.
That time of dilemma wasn't much different from now.
Perhaps because after breaking through the wall, he hadn't met a worthy strong opponent.
The dragon he met in Lumpard.
Even when encountering Elbiewe, it wasn't this much of a dead end.
The strong enemy before his eyes.
It was like meeting the great orc warrior he first encountered in the north.
Suffocation rising to his throat.
However, the reason that time and now were different was probably the ecstasy he would feel during battle.
Because of that.
"A person must be able to distinguish between what they can and cannot do."
Kallias took out a white cloth and wiped his Flame Sword.
He tucked it at his waist and calmly passed between 555 and 666.
As if taking a walk.
555, unable to hide his bewilderment at Kallias's action of passing between himself and the 6th Legion Commander, asked.
[......Where are you going?]
"I have things to do. Following you lot comes after that."
Kallias was already far behind.
[......!]
[.......]
For a brief moment, they missed his movement. They didn't show it, but 555 seemed quite surprised, and 666 grabbed his sword hilt without realizing it.
[Things to do?]
Kallias said while looking at the cave.
"A sacred relic will be created."
It was about time.
Since he couldn't just leave it as it was, it was time to intervene with the sacred relic.
Because even by the slightest chance, it must not go according to his wish.
This sacred relic must solely. Be a sacred relic according to his own wish.
[Oho, a sacred relic. So there were still ones doing such things. How romantic.]
[Then we'll wait.]
"I'll leave the annoying ones to you. I have something that requires quite my focus."
He said while looking around the area.
The foreign forces they saw would likely approach in the near future.
At minimum ten thousand. It was clear it would be an army reaching up to a hundred thousand.
[Hah, are you dumping that on us?]
555 asked back in disbelief.
At that, Kallias turned his head and curled his lips as if in mockery.
"Why. Is it difficult?"
[Ha....]
A crazy bastard was a crazy bastard.
Standing before three Legion Commanders of the Fallen, he didn't cower, and now he was outright provoking them.
Confidence to the point of arrogance.
That reckless attitude rather aroused 555's favor.
[Alright, let's sweep them all away at this opportunity!]
How could one call themselves a Legion Commander of the Fallen if they retreated before the gods' followers. 555 laughed heartily and swung his double-edged axe.
A fierce wind pressure like a typhoon.
Glancing at that, Kallias entered the cave.
[Now, shall we have a match after a long time.]
[.......]
555 laughed heartily, burning with fighting spirit.
But unlike him, 333, the Constricting Fallen. Zellalin's expression was not good.
[What is it, Zellalin. Your expression isn't good.]
[It'd be best not to take him too lightly. You might get a nasty surprise.]
[I didn't take him lightly. He's strong. I can feel it. My sword was trembling, after all.]
[What? Did you feel wrong? His guts are decent, but he's a brat who's lived maybe thirty years.]
555 called him a mere brat.
Unlike themselves. A brat who had lived maybe thirty years.
The number of times standing on the battlefield.
The years lived.
The experience of combat itself was different.
So what was there to worry about, was his attitude.
[The years lived aren't important. Even if one lives long, just as we can never catch up to her.]
But 666 was different.
The hand gripping his sword still wouldn't let go. He was extremely wary of him.
[Anyway, be careful.]
[I'll just stretch my body. From what I briefly saw, they were pouring in like a flood.]
An army easily numbering a hundred thousand.
555's blood boiled.
[I'll pass this time. The subordinates alone should be enough.]
[No romance as always.]
Leaving Zellalin behind.
The two figures disappeared.
A moment later, a faint scent of blood could already be smelled from the nose of the woman playing the harp.
* * *
"Demetri."
"Oh...... you've come."
He was already like that, but now he looked even less like a living person.
His skin had turned black, and his entire body was shriveled, looking like only bones and skin remained.
All the hair on his head seemed to have fallen out, making for a very unsightly appearance, but what he had created looked exceedingly excellent.
Along with the viscous divine power of a Saint spread low on the ground, something with a semi-transparent form had been created in mid-air.
"It is...... done."
Even speaking seemed difficult for him.
I slowly walked over and looked down at him sitting in meditation and said.
"You've worked hard."
"Heh, heh...... to you. I'm, sorry."
Even speaking seemed difficult for him.
His appearance could be considered that of someone already dead.
It was like a corpse speaking.
I met eyes with him sitting in meditation.
And asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Yours...... I, snatched...... away, after all."
"......"
Snatched away.
What could be the intention of saying so now.
I thought about it but couldn't know.
A sliver of conscience, or perhaps conviction.
Perhaps it was too difficult to even form an expression, as there was no expression at all.
"I'm...... sorry."
However.
"I can...... become, a, god, right?"
Looking at Demetri struggling to speak haltingly, I nodded.
"You will be."
That was the minimum goodwill I could offer, and simultaneously, malice.
Swoosh.
Along with Demetri's closing eyes.
Flash! Demetri's body burst like a water drop exploding, transforming into light, adding the final decoration to the faint sacred relic.
At the very moment the sacred relic was about to be completed.
"I'm sorry, but Demitri. You......"
I drew up the energy of remnants and completely covered the sacred relic.
"You will not become a god."
My gray.
This too, I shall dye as my own.