188. Ragnarok (3)
“Retreat! Fall back!”
Kirhas urged the trembling warriors as she ran. Having pushed deep into the camp, this area was directly under the influence of the gateway.
Everyone, regardless of allegiance, was soaked in despair and fear, trembling uncontrollably. Even the warriors of Kazalid, who had never hesitated to face demons or follow their orders, were no exception.
In this place, Kirhas was the only one who kept her composure and burned with determination. Like a mother dog dragging her stiffened puppies by the scruff of their necks, she pulled the rigid warriors along, shouting.
-Whack!
“Ugh…?!”
“Snap out of it! If you stay here, you’ll die!”
Kirhas saw no clear path. Everywhere, everything was glowing red. A blood-like red premonition overflowed around her. But she couldn’t give up. She couldn’t stop here…
‘Your Excellency, how could you move in such moments?’
‘Taking action is always more beneficial than being optimistic or despairing, Kirhas. Complacency in reality is akin to regression. Time is equal to all, so you must assume that your enemies are always using that time to solidify their position. Ability is relative; if your ability has stalled, it means you’ve regressed compared to your enemies.’
Desperately trying to escape the encroaching despair, Kirhas recalled Fernandez’s voice. Yes, let’s move. Doing your best is always better than despairing, no matter the moment.
“Follow me, run! Don’t give up! I won’t abandon you!”
Her heart was too upright to abandon her helpless subordinates in this death-ridden area and seek survival alone. She gathered the stiffened warriors and ran.
-Kugugugung…!!
At that moment, she staggered and fell. A powerful vibration struck the earth, and everything turned red. Her turquoise eyes desperately scanned the surroundings. Death, death… Everywhere, there were only corpses.
“Your Excellency.”
It wasn’t a matter of will. This was a matter of the soul. Under the overwhelming presence, she was as powerless as a moth caught in a spider’s web. The strength in her sword-holding hand was fading.
“Your Excellency, I hope… I hope I was of some help.”
Kirhas slowly closed her eyes. Since everything was burning red, it was better to close her eyes. The sticky air, filled with magic, licked her skin as it passed by.
“Get up.”
“…Abel.”
A cool breeze blew for a moment. Kirhas weakly opened her eyes. Abel stood before her, looking down and extending her hand.
Cool fingers tightly gripped the sword hilt that hung limply in Kirhas’s hand. Supporting Kirhas, she whispered.
“It’s too early to give up.”
“Why did you come? This place… there’s no hope of survival here. You… you should have lived. How could I… with what feelings…”
“Shh. I’ll listen to your complaints after this is over.”
Even under the presence of the slowly opening Hell’s gateway, Abel moved as if unaffected. As if swimming through frozen time, she leisurely pulled Kirhas and the surrounding warriors along.
The soul of a dragon reaches the level of a demigod. Beyond the spirituality of mortals, that realm, those eyes holding the gaze of great beings. Under them, the warriors began to gasp for breath, vomit, and stand on their feet.
“Hope always crouches at the very bottom of despair. No matter how fierce the winter snow, won’t the buds sprout in the spring?”
Abel spoke and raised her hand. She pulled out a wooden plank hanging from Kirhas’s waist. On the plank, a small flower bud hung, half-withered.
“Or is it not so, Banadis?”
-Pop!
A white flower sprouted on the wooden plank. And soon—
-Pop!
-Pop! Pop!
The flower buds broke through the frozen ground, spreading out. A faint path unfolded before her eyes. Abel smiled as she saw it.
“There’s still a way.”
“Move, move!”
Aeren looked down at her axe-wielding hand with bloodshot eyes. Thumb, index, middle finger… slowly, her fingers twitched and gripped the axe. If she could fight even for a moment, that would be enough. She would never fall helplessly and wait for death.
Death is fair to all, and the only condition that determines the moment it comes is whether you are in front of this axe or behind it. She intended to swing her axe once fairly at anything that came at her head-on.
-Crunch.
Her stiffened shoulder made a strange sound as it moved. It was sore, but it was fine. She could still move. She looked down at the rigid warriors and threw the axe in her hand at the snickering demon.
-Crash!
“Ugh!”
“You idiots! I’m-! Still-! Alive-!!”
She shouted roughly and pulled another axe from her waist. Though her whole body wasn’t moving perfectly, the fact that she could move at all in this battlefield set her apart from the others.
The demons looked down at her and burst into laughter.
“Soon, our mother will arrive. What meaning does your little struggle have? You, and your handful of warriors, won’t live past today.”
“I don’t–! Care–!!”
Aeren shouted with veins popping. Her hair rose like a lion’s mane. Magic enveloped her body. Her body felt lighter. It was a good sign. At least it meant she could die fighting.
She straightened her back, holding the axe, and climbed over the corpse of a fallen demon. Her stiffened, trembling warriors all looked at her.
“If you have arms, then fight!”
