190. Erik the Black (2)
*
[So it’s a relic of the dwarves… That was a neat trick.]
Like rewinding time, scales sprouted, and scattered fabric gathered. Gurgling, the sound of bubbling could be heard as bones and flesh began to reassemble. Soon, his hair flowed down again, and his yellow eyes spun and settled.
“I thought it was a snake, but it was a lizard. No difference between the head and the tail, huh.”
[You have an annoying tongue. It’d be fun to pull it out.]
Erik chuckled and adjusted his grip on the axe. The creature twisted its neck and took a stance. Fernandez strapped Thunderthrower to his waist and firmly gripped the greatsword with both hands.
‘I never thought I’d cross swords with Erik in my lifetime.’
[How much weaker is he compared to his prime?]
‘Weaker? Well, he’s a hunting dog raised very carefully by Sadarkelisa.’
There were two figures who heralded the fall of human civilization in their past lives: one was the king of the north, Erik the Black, and the other was Kagan of the Five Thousand Great Gers, Karadskar. The particularly surprising thing about these two monsters, who nearly destroyed civilized society, was that they were not minions of demons.
To their own people, they were both ‘heroes.’
Karadskar, who united the fractured and constantly warring clans of the Hundred Tribes and began an advance to divert the danger of internal strife outward, and Erik, who declared the Great Southern War to migrate the declining northerners south amidst dwindling food and supplies and clans baring their fangs at each other.
Although both took demon followers under their command and their later years were not kind, in their prime, they clearly wielded their swords for their own power, will, and cause.
But… Fernandez looked at Erik with a complicated expression. He had completely fallen under Sadarkelisa’s corruption.
‘Because of us, right?’
-Well, what other variables could there be?
There are many hypotheses about the fall of the Northern Temple of the Gods. The weakening of the seal protecting Sadarkelisa was likely due to the sealing by the Temple of the Gods. And the reason Sadarkelisa began to directly intervene on the continent was probably due to Mumto’s death.
Erik the Black, the hero who valiantly perished while responsible for the entire north. Without the interference of demons or the corrupted Asgard, his future would have been entirely different.
-Click.
But now, it’s all meaningless. Erik had to die anyway. The eastern and northern parts of the continent, shattered by his Great Southern War, and especially the Empire, would lose the strength to stop the impending war with Karadskar.
After that, it’s just a snowball rolling towards the end. The continent destroyed by Karadskar would be filled with poverty and ruins, and rats, demons, and corruption would prefer such scenes.
Even if Erik had not fallen, he was a man who had to die.
[Is the prayer over, priest?]
“Yes.”
If it’s reflection on crushing four possibilities, it’s already enough. Fernandez opened his eyes. Having returned to the past to change the future, he had already vowed to trample countless possibilities and move forward.
Compared to his cause, his purpose, this self-reflection, or…
-Hypocrisy.
‘Right.’
Hypocrisy. How repulsive is the pity shown towards someone who must be killed. Fernandez, and Faijashi, had already seen too many such people in their past lives, and they usually impaled them on stakes and hung them in the streets.
-Swish.
The greatsword changed position in mid-air. A defensive stance, almost textbook-like greatsword swordsmanship. Seeing this, Erik, who had momentarily laughed, charged like lightning.
-Clang!!
The axe and greatsword clashed, sparks flying. The figures of the two began to blur. Erik’s white scales and ink-black hair flowed like water, like a snake.
-Sss.
His tongue made a metallic sound. Fernandez, expressionless, swung his sword down. The greatsword deflected the axe’s blade and spun around, aiming for the neck. But it wasn’t fast enough. Erik instantly dodged the attack.
-Clang!
Fernandez’s half-white curly hair scattered. White, black. The distinction between the two blurred as they reached a certain point—
-Crash!
The greatsword’s blade dug into the axe. The axe was flung back, and in that gap—
-Clang! Clang! Crash!
Like a storm of steel, Fernandez’s greatsword deeply split Erik’s chest and surged upward. Erik coughed up blood… and laughed.
[Well done, priest.]
-Thud.
The axe flew in. Even in a state where any normal creature would be on the brink of death, Erik’s axe charged at Fernandez. Barely blocking the axe, Fernandez frowned.
“Blessing of immortality…”
Hearing that, Erik smiled bitterly. He had somewhat guessed when his head was first cut off… Fernandez now continuously blocked Erik’s onslaught, cutting into his body, and clicked his tongue.
‘Tricky.’
-Haha, how does it feel to be on the other side?
‘Definitely an annoying blessing.’
Erik was fighting in exactly the same way Fernandez used to prefer. Taking every minor attack on his body, even giving up flesh, even bones, to wear down the enemy’s bones.
A predictable, but extremely tricky attack method. If he had been like the demons who just relied on their bodies to push forward, it would have been easier, but he was using a viciously sharp and agile combat style.
-Crash!
The axe hooked onto the greatsword’s tip.
It was an exquisite technique born from Diemonica’s reflexes. He struck the tip of the blade, sending it flying, and then plunged it straight into the neck. Erik didn’t bother defending; instead, he drove his body even deeper.
[Gotcha.]
“No, you’re the one caught.”
-Gulp.
Fernandez’s arm muscles twitched. The fact that the guy was nimble and quick was ironically his weakness. Fernandez lifted Erik’s body and slammed it down onto the ground.
[Ugh…!]
“Stabbing a sword into the body and pulling it out—I’ve already done that.”
As long as there’s a guarantee you won’t die, and as long as you have the will to ignore minor pain, anyone can try this combat method. Of course, Fernandez had also tried it before.
-Boom!
A fist clenched so tightly it seemed like it would crush everything came down on Erik’s forehead, still wearing the gauntlet. Again, bang, bang, bang. Like hammering, from a perfectly locked mount position, Fernandez drove his greatsword into the guy’s neck while slamming his fist down.
[Guh…!!]
The guy swung his axe in a spasm. Fernandez didn’t bother dodging. The axe crushed the armor and lodged into his shoulder. But without stopping, he swung his fist again and slammed it down!
-Crash!
Dust billowed up, and the guy’s body convulsed. Even if you’re immortal, you can’t ignore pain. Even if your will overcomes the pain, you can’t ignore the sensory organs going numb from the shock. Erik twitched and swung his axe in the sensation of his vision turning white.
-Slice!
Finally, once. The axe struck Fernandez’s neck. He won. Beneath his crushed face, Erik grinned viciously.
[Ha, haha, hahaha! Tough but dumb, huh?]
-Gurgle.
Erik trembled as he pulled the axe out of Fernandez’s neck. This thrill, this sensation. The feeling of life overflowing, the exhilarating sensation of walking on the edge with death on his back.
[Ah, I feel alive…]
“Now let me show you what it feels like to be dead.”
-Boom!
A fist clenched like a hammer came down hard. Erik was slammed into the ground, letting out a choked sound.
[H-how?]
“I’ve done it too.”
Twisting his torn neck back into place, Fernandez frowned. He could feel the branch of mistletoe he kept close to his chest had shortened slightly against his skin.
‘It’s been a while since I died.’
-Don’t get used to it.
‘I know, Loft is completely unreliable.’
The wound on his neck quickly closed with a strange sound. Torn blood vessels reconnected, and the blood flow returned to his brain, his cooling head heating up again.
-Gurgle.
Erik, with the greatsword still stuck in his neck, forcibly twisted his body free and broke away from Fernandez, who had momentarily frozen. The guy’s head began to regenerate rapidly.
Watching this, Fernandez coldly observed the magic gathering around him.
‘The blessing is limited to the soul.’
-The body is being shaped by the magic supplied from the gateway.
‘Good. His true body is either his soul or…’
-The gateway itself.
A kind of immortality that restores the body without losing memories, emotions, or sensations even after losing the head. It’s a high-level blessing that even Fernandez, who had once been blessed by Vaitas, found difficult.
When is death truly determined? The moment the breath stops? The moment the blood coagulates? The moment the heartbeat ceases? Or the moment the body decays? Death is an extremely ambiguous and conceptual notion.
Thus, even if the results appear the same, immortality is a separate blessing with different traits depending on the concept. The blessing Fernandez received from Vaitas was ‘restoration.’ A kind that rewound the body’s time to just before the fatal injury.
But Erik’s blessing is ‘fixation.’ A kind that forcibly fixes the spirit form in the mortal world. A spirit that has completely lost its body is destined to scatter into soul, castle, white, and spirit. Erik was sustaining the battle by fixing his spirit form in the mortal world and restoring his destroyed body through the gateway’s magic.
However, there is no such thing as perfect immortality in this world. Not even the great gods above, nor the great demons of the abyss. Even the stars beyond the celestial sphere, which seem infinite, will one day lose their light.
Especially for mere mortals like us. Fernandez looked at Erik and raised his greatsword. Let’s see how well these hard-to-kill monsters can fight each other.
*
“We must retreat.”
Kirhas turned her horse’s head while leading the troops back to the ridge. The demons pouring out of the gateway, some scattering and some disappearing somewhere, were mostly being held back by the frontline encircling the camp.
At first glance, it seemed like they were holding them off easily, but that wasn’t the case. The demons poured out endlessly every time the gateway opened, while the Legion of Skeletons gradually dwindled in number. Now, more and more demons were breaking through the gaps in the frontline and rushing across the plains.
It would collapse eventually. Even without Kirhas’ tactical judgment, everyone present could sense it as they watched the scene. And the moment that frontline crumbles would be the last moment of the north.
“Retreat and regroup the troops…”
“Abel. You know that’s impossible.”
“I promised to protect you. Leading these troops would be nothing more than a glorious last stand.”
“Even if survival lies behind us, victory does not. The only chance lies ahead.”
-Screech.
Kirhas drew her longsword and pointed it forward. The immense influence emanating from the gateway made her body stiffen with dread.
“That spot. Do you see it?”
“…Yes.”
There, Fernandez and Erik were fighting. Though they appeared as tiny dots in the distance, it was within clear sight for Kirhas and Abel.
It was a horrifying fight. A bloodbath where both sides ignored all defense, solely focused on driving one more blade into the other’s body. The art of swordsmanship prioritizes protection. The essence of swordsmanship lies in deflecting the opponent’s attack and landing an effective strike.
From that perspective, their fight was no longer within the realm of technique. It was purely a savage and brutal battle.
Abel watched the scene for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.
“You’re right. Even if only death awaits us there, even if only defeat and despair remain. We can’t leave him there alone.”
“Yes, Abel.”
The two spurred their horses and charged back toward the battlefield.
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