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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Mod7
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Aslan gripped the haft of his double-headed axe, just below the blade.
The banshee was hurtling towards him at full speed, too fast for him to draw his weapon and defend himself.
It was incredibly fast. He wouldn’t be able to react in time. Not a normal warrior.
But Aslan wasn’t a normal warrior.
‘Shadow Flip.’
He whispered the name of the skill, and the shadow beneath his feet vanished. Ereta flinched, seeing the shadow disappear completely, and Angie raised her staff.
–Shhk!
Shadow Flip was a two-hit combo, delivered with blinding speed, a technique without a discernible starting point. Only the result was visible.
Even without drawing his weapon, even in a stance that should have made it impossible to attack,
Two blows, as swift and silent as a passing shadow, struck the banshee.
The skill, honed to perfection, flowed effortlessly from Aslan’s hands.
The problem was, physical attacks weren’t very effective against banshees.
Aslan stood poised to strike, the axe still in his hands. The Daughter of Grief, her ethereal form momentarily dispersed by the two blows, began to coalesce, her shadowy form solidifying. Their eyes met.
‘It didn’t work?’
There was no fear in the banshee’s eyes, no sense of danger. Only a cold, predatory intent.
Aslan clicked his tongue, the tattoos on his arm, extending up to his shoulder, glowing faintly.
One of the few effective ways to damage a banshee was with elemental attacks. And Aslan had Heat Metal, a spell that imbued weapons with fire, stored within his tattoos.
The problem was, Heat Metal wasn’t a particularly powerful spell.
And the Daughter of Grief, a named banshee, possessed even greater resistance to physical attacks than ordinary banshees. Aslan wasn’t sure if it would be enough.
‘But I don’t have any other options…’
As he glanced to the side, he saw Ereta watching him, and an idea sparked in his mind.
[!!G?d’s Bl??d!! Eff!ct?]
[Can sever the connection between god and priest.]
[Will not be extinguished as long as the user has Fighting Spirit.]
[Obt??n?d thr?ugh ?n ?nkn?wn qu?st.]
The message about the ability to sever the connection between a god and a priest flickered in his memory.
A power with an unknown name, an uncertain effect, its origins and source a complete mystery.
But it had severed Ereta’s connection to her god.
And that was what mattered.
Severing the link between a god and a priest wasn’t something that could be done with physical force.
If it were, he wouldn’t be in this situation.
The unknown technique clearly affected something beyond the physical realm.
Aslan’s eyes darted between the approaching banshee and his axe. He adjusted his grip, holding the weapon ready.
He focused on the sensation he had felt when he severed Ereta’s connection, the strange energy within him,
Something beyond mana.
He reached for it, drawing it out. Years of manipulating mana had made him adept at channeling this intangible force. His body responded instantly.
–Fwoooosh!
The axe blade erupted in a white light, a cold light, not a fiery one.
It was time to test his theory.
As he raised the glowing axe, the priest, who had been momentarily stunned, looked up.
“Graaaagh!”
He roared and charged, his injured side gushing blood and gore, the wounds from the banshee’s attack still open. Angie cursed.
“Damn it…!”
Aslan saw the priest approaching and lowered his axe, preparing to swing, aiming to knock back both the priest and the banshee with a single blow.
Ereta stood behind him, her twin swords in hand, and Angie swung her staff.
But the banshee was faster. The spectral figure twisted and turned in the air, a whirlwind of shadows, then…
–Thump!
–Whoosh…
It flew straight towards the charging priest, its hand passing through his chest.
The hand emerged, stained a dark greenish-black, clutching the priest’s heart.
The heart fell to the ground with a wet thud, rolling, its surface pulsing, its color matching the blood staining the earth, the blood now eating away at the stone. The priest’s eyes widened in shock, a gurgling sound escaping his lips.
“Guh… ack…”
A pungent smell of burning flesh filled the air as the priest choked on his own blood, dying.
“…What…?”
The Daughter of Grief, the named banshee, the dungeon boss, the priestess of the Grief and Death Goddess, remained motionless, the priest’s heart still clutched in her hand, his body dangling limply from her outstretched arm.
She didn’t even react when Angie’s staff, which hadn’t been withdrawn in time, struck her head. She simply… froze.
Aslan frowned, confused. Angie sheepishly lowered her staff.
The banshee stared at him, her face a grotesque mask of decay and pain, its inhuman features twisted in a chilling smile.
It was a scene he had never encountered in the game. Aslan, trying to make sense of the situation, watched as the banshee reached out a hand.
Its index finger, half of it missing, pointed at his axe.
Specifically, at the glowing white axe blade.
“Wha…?”
Aslan stared at her, dumbfounded, and the banshee, withdrawing her finger, pointed at her own head.
She drew a line down her forehead with her finger, as if…
“Does she… want me to kill her?”
“Seems that way…”
The banshee smiled, confirming his suspicion.
A horrifying grin, stretching her decaying lips, her rotting cheeks pulling back, revealing rows of yellowed teeth.
A shiver ran down Aslan’s spine. He frowned, but the banshee simply lowered her head again, her gesture devoid of any threat.
Aslan, unsettled by the banshee’s strange behavior, approached her.
Angie, seeing him approach the monster so casually, gasped.
“Aslan, what are you doing?!”
“It’s fine. It’s strange, but… it’s a good thing.”
He didn’t understand the situation, didn’t know the banshee’s motives. He had never encountered a monster that wanted to die.
While monsters weren’t technically alive, and banshees, being spectral creatures, were even further removed from the concept of life, this behavior was still unnatural.
Aslan raised his axe, aiming for the banshee’s head.
Normally, this would have been a difficult fight. While not as powerful as Ereta, the Daughter of Grief was still a dungeon boss, a challenging opponent he was meant to face much later in the main quest line.
Her high resistance to physical attacks, her agility, and her aggressive fighting style would have made her a formidable foe.
To be able to defeat her now, so easily, was an advantage. A significant advantage.
Even if she had some hidden agenda, Aslan judged that the potential gains outweighed the risks.
He also had another reason.
He didn’t understand what was happening, and playing along with the banshee’s strange request was the best way to gather information.
He lowered the axe slightly, then raised it again, the blade resting against the banshee’s forehead.
Despite the movement, the sound of the metal against her ethereal form, the banshee didn’t react, her head still bowed.
“…Should I do it, Aslan?”
Ereta, who had been unusually quiet, spoke, stepping forward as if sensing Aslan’s hesitation.
Aslan shook his head.
This was something he had to do. He was the one with the ability to sever the connection between a god and a priest. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was the right course of action, then raised the axe.
–Crack!
He brought the blade down.
The glowing white axe cleaved the banshee’s head in two. The blade sank deep into the ethereal form, and this time, the wound didn’t heal. The banshee’s face, frozen in a chilling smile, dissolved into dust.
‘This feeling…?!’
The dust spread, the banshee’s body disintegrating, leaving behind a shimmering, ethereal energy.
A formless, shapeless essence.
A faint, almost invisible light.
Aslan realized that the light felt familiar. Similar to the energy he had channeled into the axe, the unknown technique he had used.
Something that remained after severing the connection between a god and a priest, something that could sever that connection.
He understood.
‘…Divine energy…?’
–Crack… tinkle…
As realization dawned, the divine energy trapped within the spot where the axe had struck began to crack and fragment.
Fissures spread across its surface, revealing a bright light within. The light pulsed and grew stronger.
Was it going to explode? Aslan thought, but it didn’t feel like an explosion. There was no heat, no pressure, nothing that should have affected him.
But it was unsettling. Angie, seeing the pulsing light, spoke, her voice filled with unease,
“Something’s strange…”
The light intensified, then…
–WHOOSH!
…it erupted, not with a bang, but with a rush, a flood of pure, white light, filling the chamber.
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“…Ugh…”
Angie opened her eyes. She couldn’t see anything.
“What…?”
Was she still asleep? She blinked. The darkness shifted slightly.
With her eyes closed, she saw faint, indistinct shapes swirling in the darkness. But with her eyes open, there was only blackness.
She realized she wasn’t seeing darkness. She was seeing something that was utterly black.
“Where… where am I?”
She realized she was lying down and sat up.
The sight that greeted her was unlike anything she had ever seen.
A black floor, a black sky, black walls. She couldn’t perceive any distance, any depth. It was a disorienting, alien space.
‘Why am I here?’
She looked around, but nothing changed. It was a uniform blackness, so complete that turning her head made her forget where she had been looking a moment before.
‘There was a bright light…’
She remembered a flash of light, an unknown energy, and then, nothing. She had lost consciousness.
And now she was here. Angie frowned, her confusion growing.
“Hey! Aslan! Crazy lady! Is anyone there?!”
She shouted, but there was no reply. Her voice didn’t even echo. Just a heavy, oppressive silence, a sense of utter emptiness, that made her stomach churn.
“What’s going on?”
Fear and anxiety gnawed at her. With no one to see her, she couldn’t even put on a brave face. She whimpered, looking around, then started walking, her steps uncertain.
Even the act of walking felt strange, her senses disoriented. She knew she was moving, but the unchanging landscape made her feel nauseous.
“Ugh… I hate this…”
After a while, still surrounded by the same oppressive blackness, a single tear rolled down her cheek. Then,
–Thwack!
“Ow!”
Something hit her head, and the tears stopped.
It wasn’t a hard blow. She heard a faint clink, but it didn’t sound like a weapon.
She looked up, searching the black sky, then back down at the ground.
It was something rectangular.
She instinctively picked it up. It felt like leather, its surface rough and textured, with a small opening.
An opening that seemed to invite her to… open it. She did. It was what Aslan would call a wallet.
Inside, there were several rectangular objects and some paper.
“Huh…? Aslan?”
Among the rectangular objects, one caught her eye.
[Student ID]
[Lee Hyun-woo]
[30316]
“Huh? No, wait… that’s not him…”
The picture on the ID resembled Aslan, but there were subtle differences.
His eyes were dark, his expression brighter, somehow… weaker.
“Aslan…? Hey, answer me!”
Angie tilted her head, turning the ID over, shaking it, tapping it. But the picture remained unchanged, the figure in the photo simply smiling back at her.
Seeing Aslan’s unchanging smile, Angie’s face crumpled.
“Are you… trapped? Damn it, I don’t know anything about magic…”
Just as she decided it must be some kind of magic, a light appeared.
A light that bathed her feet in its warm glow, a light unlike anything she had ever experienced, artificial, almost… otherworldly.
And within that light, tall buildings, a cityscape unlike anything in Gelladrion, appeared, a crack in the oppressive blackness surrounding her.
“…What’s going on?”
Angie hesitated for a moment, then stepped towards the light.
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