Chapter 37

“…Ashes?”

Ashtaroth frowned as he watched the swirling gray ashes.

He hadn’t used any flame-based magic, and it wasn’t dust either. Why would ashes be swirling around?

“Where did this come from…?”

Before his question could even fully form.

*BAM!*

A fist flew from behind and slammed hard into Ashtaroth’s face.

“Ugh!”

The impact shook his brain, sending him stumbling backward.

“What…?”

Ashtaroth, who had been sent flying by Dale’s punch, clutched his bleeding nose and widened his eyes.

Did he just survive that wound?

‘No.’

A hole the size of his head had been blown through his chest.

His heart and lungs should have been completely obliterated by the magic discharge. How could he still be alive?

And more importantly.

‘The wound is gone.’

The gaping hole in Dale’s chest had already returned to its original state.

“Hah.”

A low, hollow laugh escaped Ashtaroth’s lips.

“A power that instantly heals wounds where the heart and lungs were completely torn out.”

There weren’t many powers in this world that could achieve such an absurd feat.

“‘Blessing,’ huh?”

A divine blessing that only a select few among heroes possess.

Only now did Ashtaroth understand how that gray-haired candidate could stand so confidently before the Archbishop.

“You had more than one trick up your sleeve.”

He had thought the mysterious blue liquid in the vial earlier was the only hidden card, but who would have guessed he also possessed a ‘Blessing’?

“Well, this is… I didn’t expect the story to get this interesting. Ah, by the way, could you tell me the name of that Blessing? I’ve never seen a Blessing that can heal such fatal wounds instantly.”

“You’ve been yapping non-stop since earlier.”

Dale, clearly not in the mood for small talk, stomped his foot fiercely.

‘No time.’

Only three minutes remained before the Holy Mark Amplifier’s effect wore off.

‘Once the Holy Mark Amplifier’s effect is gone, it’s over.’

Although his magic power had increased significantly after recently absorbing the Primordial Flame, it was still less than half of what the other candidates possessed. Fighting Ashtaroth with that level of magic was utterly insufficient.

“Deep breath.”

Drawing in the increased magic power from the Holy Mark Amplifier, Dale focused it at the tip of his sword.

The compressed magic absorbed the surrounding light, dyeing the blade in a dark hue.

Sun Sword.

Fifth Form: Black Spot.

Though its range was much smaller than the next form, ‘White Light,’ its concentrated attack power was far more potent.

“Raaaaah!”

With a roar, Dale unleashed the concentrated magic.

The blackened blade surged fiercely toward Ashtaroth.

“Ugh!”

Ashtaroth hastily retreated, spreading his magic like a veil to envelop his entire body.

*CRASH! BANG!*

The concentrated magic tore through the purple veil surrounding Ashtaroth’s body, piercing his heart.

No.

To be precise.

“Hah. That was really close.”

He thought it had pierced his heart.

Until the sword, blocked by the distorted space, bounced off in front of Ashtaroth’s chest.

“Really… it’s astonishing every time. How can you pierce through my magic veil with just that handful of magic power?”

Even after drinking the blue liquid and experiencing a explosive increase in magic power, Dale’s total magic power was still not that high.

At best, it was about 2-3 times the average magic power of the candidates.

Of course, that was still a tremendous amount compared to Dale’s original magic power, but from Ashtaroth’s perspective, it was like comparing a pebble to a mountain.

‘If that candidate were to fully develop his magic power…’

Imagining what kind of monster he would become sent a chill down Ashtaroth’s spine.

“But well… that’s not something to worry about right now.”

The important thing now was to obtain the ‘Seven Eyes,’ and Dale didn’t have the power to stop that.

“Ah, and one more thing.”

Ashtaroth grinned.

“You’re not the only one with hidden cards, you know?”

A sinister glow erupted from Ashtaroth’s Holy Mark, and grotesque veins bulged around it.

Veins, like tree roots, spread across Ashtaroth’s upper body.

Purple magic flowed from Ashtaroth, spreading like spiderwebs and corroding the surrounding space.

The space, corroded by magic, distorted like a heat haze.

“Distortion’s Blessing.”

Ashtaroth smirked as he looked at the distorted space.

“The name of the grace bestowed upon me by the Devil God.”

A Blessing that distorts the very space touched by magic.

Though it demanded a great price for its destructive power, the enemy before him wasn’t worth holding back against.

“I never thought I’d have to go all out against a mere candidate, not even a professor.”

Ashtaroth himself didn’t seem too pleased with the current situation, letting out a self-deprecating laugh as he spread his arms wide.

“Your Blessing and my Distortion’s Blessing.”

*Snap.*

Ashtaroth flicked his finger lightly.

“Let’s see which one has received more of the gods’ favor, shall we?”

The wave of distorted space crashed down on Dale.

*CRASH! BANG!*

Limbs twisted.

Brain matter scattered through the crushed skull.

Crushed intestines spilled through broken ribs.

“Kyaaaaah! D-Dale!”

Iris’s scream echoed once more within the Dreaming Veil.

An unmistakable instant death.

Dale’s corpse, reduced to a lump of flesh, rolled helplessly on the ground.

“Now, let’s see you come back to life from this.”

No matter what healing-related ‘Blessing’ one possessed, it was impossible to come back to life from being reduced to a lump of flesh.

Thinking so, Ashtaroth leisurely turned his gaze away from Dale’s crushed corpse.

“Anytime.”

*Whoosh!*

Amidst the swirling ashes, Dale’s sword swung toward Ashtaroth.

“What…!”

Ashtaroth’s eyes widened in shock.

“Hah… do you possess some kind of immortality Blessing?”

“Who knows.”

To be precise, it was the Blessing of Resurrection.

But in terms of not dying no matter what, it wasn’t much different from an immortality Blessing.

“This is ridiculous.”

Ashtaroth shook his head with a look of disbelief.

He had thought the Blessing was unusual when it instantly regenerated wounds where the heart and lungs were completely torn out, but to think it truly granted the ability to not die.

‘But.’

With a cold sneer, Ashtaroth raised his hand.

“Just because you can’t die… doesn’t mean you can defeat me.”

*CRASH!*

The distorted space split Dale’s upper and lower body in half.

“Ugh!”

Though the wound itself regenerated instantly due to the Blessing of Resurrection, the horrific pain of being split in two lingered like an afterimage, tormenting him.

“I wonder how long you can keep coming back.”

Ashtaroth flicked his finger lightly, and the distorted space crushed Dale’s body once more.

“Damn it…!”

Dale let out a low curse as he tried to move to avoid Ashtaroth’s attacks, but in a situation where the entire surrounding space was twisted, it was nearly impossible to evade.

And more importantly.

“Ugh!”

Dale thrust his body through the gaps in the distorted space and swung his sword at Ashtaroth.

*Clang!*

The full-powered sword strike was futilely blocked by the magic veil and bounced off.

‘Has the Holy Mark Amplifier’s effect worn off?’

Dale bit his lip as he felt the magic power that had been surging through his body cooling rapidly.

The balance of power, barely maintained through the Holy Mark Amplifier, was rapidly collapsing.

*CRASH! BANG! THUD!*

With the Holy Mark Amplifier’s effect gone, the battle became one-sided.

With each attack mixed with the Distortion’s Blessing, Dale’s body was brutally shattered and regenerated repeatedly.

“Ugh!”

Suddenly, memories of his past life flashed through his mind.

Memories of his powerless days.

‘It was always like this.’

Some might call the ability to instantly come back to life no matter how many times you die a cheat.

But he knew better than anyone, from his past life’s experience, that simply ‘not dying’ was meaningless.

‘Even if there’s an ant that can’t die, it’s still just an ant.’

In the face of overwhelming power, the ability of immortality was utterly powerless.

“Ah, ugh.”

Repeated deaths gradually gnawed away at Dale’s mind.

The accumulated pain burned his reason like kindling.

‘It hurts.’

How many times had he died already?

How many times had his bones been broken, his flesh torn apart?

“Hah, hahaha! Amazing! You must have died over a hundred times by now, and you can still regenerate!”

Ashtaroth let out a mad laugh as he rolled his foot.

“Now, let’s see you come back from this!”

*CRASH!*

Purple magic swirled like a whirlwind, tearing Dale’s entire body to shreds.

His body, torn into dozens of pieces, turned into gray ashes and began to regenerate around the heart engraved with the Holy Mark.

“Hah, what the hell…?”

Ashtaroth, beyond shock, shook his head with a look of disbelief.

As he was about to release his magic toward Dale once more.

“Stop! Stop it now!”

Iris stepped forward, shielding Dale as she blocked Ashtaroth.

“That’s enough… isn’t it?”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t say so, since Candidate Dale’s life hasn’t been extinguished yet.”

“Was your goal to kill Dale?”

“Well…”

Ashtaroth swallowed hard, as if hit where it hurt.

He clicked his tongue as he looked down at the fallen Dale.

“I wanted to test how far your Blessing could hold out… but I guess that’ll have to wait for another time.”

Ashtaroth turned his gaze from Dale and stepped toward Iris.

“Hey, wait… not yet.”

Dale, who had been torn into dozens of pieces and regenerated, staggered to his feet but soon lost his balance and fell again.

Dale gritted his teeth as he watched Ashtaroth approach Iris.

His magic power had long been depleted, and the accumulated fatigue made it impossible to even stand.

“Damn it.”

He thought he would live a new life after returning.

He had resolved to walk a different path than his past life.

‘In the end, it’s come to this.’

No matter how much he struggled, throwing his life away like a pebble on the riverbank.

No matter how much he flailed with his crushed, mangled legs.

‘This time, again.’

Unable to save anything.

Unable to protect anyone.

Just like before.

Unchanged.

Forced to watch as someone precious died before his eyes.

“Dale…”

Iris, standing in front of Dale, looked at Ashtaroth approaching her and let out a sigh.

She smiled faintly and whispered softly.

“…I’m glad.”

As if she had no regrets, no remorse.

In a voice so peaceful.

Like that.

She spoke.

“……”

Like a bolt of lightning.

His mind flashed white.

‘Glad?’

What.

What could possibly be ‘glad’ about?

Iris was now in danger of losing not only the ‘Seven Eyes’ but also her life.

If I had done nothing, she would have only lost her eyes.

Because of me.

Because of me.

She experienced a hell even more terrible than in her past life.

And yet.

‘How… can she say she’s glad?’

His mind was tangled like a mess of threads.

He couldn’t understand.

He couldn’t accept.

Why had she come back instead of running away in her past life?

Why was she standing in front of Ashtaroth now instead of staying still?

Even though she had seen with her own eyes that I would come back to life no matter how many times I died.

My life.

Was as insignificant as a pebble on the riverbank.

‘Why, why, why, why.’

How could she say ‘I’m glad’ at the end?

“Ah, ugh.”

He staggered to his feet.

Though there was no more magic power left in his body.

Though his mind was already tattered like torn cloth.

Though every breath felt like it would tear his lungs apart.

Even so.

“Glad… you say?”

He stood up.

On trembling legs, gripping the sword with shaking hands.

“Who gave you the right… to say ‘glad’?”

Why she had said ‘I’m glad’ at the end.

I don’t know.

I probably never will.

‘But.’

One thing.

I do know.

‘Iris saved my life.’

Even if it was just one life among thousands, tens of thousands of deaths.

Even if it was just one pebble among countless on the riverbank.

She gave her life to save mine.

So.

*Whoosh!*

Flames began to rise, enveloping the Holy Mark.

The magic power that had been lying dormant surged up like lava.

“This time, it’s my turn.”

*Boom!*

With a rough roar, flames erupted from the sword in his hand.