A land for those who do not believe, Alkeia.
True to its name, Alkeia is located deep underground where no light seeps in. Its master, Gleria, built her own temple in the depths of the world, wishing the sun and stars above not to cast their gaze upon her.
The master of Alkeia, Gleria smiled.
“Quickly, go. Before my whims end.”
Belnoa silently bowed his head to her.
Why he bowed to a terrible calamity, even Belnoa himself did not know. Perhaps it was because the woman before him felt more like a senior than a calamity.
Belnoa took a step forward.
He began to dash, kicking the ground.
The slope led outside the abyss, and the Carapace Dragons, which would guard the path to ensure no one escapes the abyss, were silent now. Belnoa ran past the massive hide of the Carapace Dragon.
At some point, the light that had been shining on Alkeia faded. As he passed through the fog settled mid-hill, the warm light no longer shined down. Only the blood-red moon illuminated the hill.
…He had returned to the Phantom Territory.
For a moment, he felt awkward about the expression of having “returned,” as Belnoa sensed the ground he stood on tremble. Thud, rumble—something passed beneath the earth.
“……”
Belnoa turned back silently.
The hill road, obscured by black mist, looked like an entrance leading into the abyss. The filthy water hiding the steep hill began to churn violently.
Something is coming.
Belnoa clenched his teeth and increased his speed.
Though he had been physically drained for a long time now, at that moment, Belnoa felt the need to squeeze out whatever strength he had left. Shadows began to envelop Belnoa’s body.
[…So you were here!]
A familiar voice echoed in his ears.
As he escaped the abyss, the severed connection with the Goddess resumed, and she shouted into Belnoa’s ear with a genuinely surprised tone.
[You’ve returned, how on earth?]
There was no time to answer that question.
Belnoa snapped his finger in reverence, and the Goddess clung to his shoulder as she looked behind him. The swirling fog, and then what pierced through the fog…
Shhhhhh!
The apostate’s familiar, the Carapace Dragon.
[…Better to flee first, I see.]
Once part of her creations—the Dragon’s subtypes.
As she watched the dragon lost amidst numerous things, she let out a long sigh. The breath she exhaled turned into fog and shadow, wrapping around Belnoa.
With shadows cloaking him, Belnoa began to run.
A fierce vibration could be felt behind him.
The noise of dirt and stone being torn away. It grew closer and then right behind him. The Carapace Dragon, its mouth yawning wide, was about to engulf Belnoa.
He flinched.
For a moment, the Carapace Dragon’s movements ceased.
In but a blink, the dragon’s maw gnashed at thin air, and Belnoa succeeded in reaching the top of the hill.
“Gasp, huff…”
Panting heavily, Belnoa turned to look back.
The Carapace Dragon no longer pursued him. They disappeared back into the mist, and beyond the fog, Belnoa sensed someone’s gaze.
The gaze lingered for just a moment.
Soon after, it vanished, and the abyss that had swallowed the Carapace Dragon grew quiet. Belnoa relaxed his tension and plopped down, rubbing the back of his neck repeatedly.
That was close, really.
[…Honestly, I thought it was the end.]
As Belnoa wiped the cold sweat from his brow, the Goddess wrapped her arms around his neck and muttered.
[From the words of one who was more faithful than anyone. When that child took his place and you fell there… I truly thought it was over for you. Miraculously, you managed to return.]
Hearing the trembling voice of the Goddess, Belnoa forced a smile.
“Yeah, somehow…”
Belnoa rubbed his hand over his knuckles.
The knuckles caressed by the apostate’s touch.
“I suppose I’ve built up some connections.”
[…Connections?]
“Lord Belial, and… for reasons unknown, it seems thanks to old Cardi I made it back.”
Belnoa pulled a piece of paper from his cloak.
A letter entrusted to Cardi from the apostate. Staring at the letter, Belnoa silently shoved it back deep into his robe.
“Once I’m back, I need to meet the old man.”
There were many questions to ask.
Muttering that, Belnoa cast a sidelong glance at the Goddess. She seemed to know something, yet she did not answer his queries.
[Yes, better to hear it from him.]
“So you do know a lot, huh?”
[I do know. However, the stories I tell now are only from the children who can no longer speak for themselves.]
The Goddess smiled bitterly.
[You must listen for yourself.]
Belnoa nodded slowly.
After letting out a short sigh, he began to rise. He had managed to escape Alkeia, but this area was still within the Phantom Territory.
Thud.
With another reason to return, Belnoa resumed walking.
2.
The apostate, Gletus gazed up at the sky from the edge of the abyss. After watching where the young man had just exited, she turned her head away.
“How envious.”
The child resembling Belial, Belnoa.
The moment she faced the successor of an old companion, she could not help but reminisce about the past. A glorious past. A past that could never be returned to. That is why it was a beautiful memory.
Feeling a twinge of jealousy towards the child, who was basking in the most brilliant time, Gletus also felt a hint of anticipation.
In her eyes, she saw the colors of the human soul. She perceived the forms of souls. Most of the souls she had seen were murky. Distorted from their pure white essence, stained by reality, and filled with impurities after multiple compromises.
Such souls could never reach the path of transcendence.
They could not break themselves and push beyond.
Strong desires, motivations, whether pure, or longing. Only such emotions brought humans closer to their essence, guiding them to the path of transcendence.
“I will definitely kill you.”
“I do not forget everything you have taken from me.”
“I dedicate my whole life to killing you, to taking revenge.”
So said the father of a child seeking vengeance.
“I will never create such a tragedy again.”
“In order to keep the promise I made to you here, I will give my remaining life.”
So did the magician who kept his vows.
“Not once.”
“I have never thought of this power as a curse. Because of this power, I could save many people.”
“If this isn’t a blessing, then what is?”
So said the Hero who pursued pure longing.
Transcendence is ultimately a return to essence.
When the soul shines its brightest white, a human obtains the opportunity to move on, and bears the most radiant brilliance.
“Compared to those children, I am pitiful…”
Fleeting yet fragile.
Nonetheless, the apostate saw light in Belnoa.
“You have it too.”
Though she told Belnoa that she dislikes children like him with tainted souls, at the same time, she saw it. A shining piece within the tainted soul.
That was the Holy Grail she had forged.
She glimpsed Belnoa’s untainted wish engraved on the cup of miracles, a wish that would never be corrupted or compromised. The apostate felt intrigued by that wish.
“Next time we meet…”
Perhaps she might witness a radiant light.
“…Ah.”
‘Gleria’ smiled.
Wiping the smile from her face, she absentmindedly caressed her chest. She touched the scar hidden beneath her robes with a wistful smile. It was a mark engraved by the most pure soul she had ever seen.
Caressing the scar.
Gleria closed her eyes.
The scar cleared her foggy thoughts. With her mind clear, she began to reminisce once more. Remembering the truly joyful and meaningful days, she walked toward her temple.
Though she wanted to return.
She knew she could no longer do so.
She had already strayed too far from the path. Gleria shut her eyes. Opening them again, she headed deep into the temple.
To the place she rightly belonged.
3.
Two days passed.
Having spent almost ten days in the Phantom Territory, Belnoa began to feel something gnawing at his sanity. The magic of the Phantom Territory affects not only the human body but also erodes the mind.
[Get a grip.]
Fortunately, there was someone beside him to help hold his fading consciousness. Every time Belnoa’s pupils began to dim, the Goddess would rouse him from his stupor.
[Aren’t you almost there?]
“Yes, indeed…”
Belnoa stumbled as he moved forward.
There was none of that youthful buoyancy left in his step. Even trying to reduce his presence was arduous, making his footsteps sound more like scrape rather than thud.
How many battles had he fought in this condition?
He lost count halfway through.
Dragging his feet, Belnoa walked through the wilderness. After walking for a while, he finally caught sight of his target—the bizarre cliff in the distance.
Once he crossed that cliff, the rest would be much easier.
There would be plenty of places to hide, and he could finally shake off the influence of the Phantom Territory. Although he had stalled, if he climbed over the cliff and walked a bit further, he could arrive at the front lines.
“Whew…”
As Belnoa exhaled deeply, he made his way towards the cliff.
This was his last hurdle. As long as he crossed this, even the pursuit team would no longer be able to chase him. Just as Belnoa approached the cliff, a sound pierced the air.
Screeeech!
A sound reminiscent of a bird’s cry rang out from the sky. Belnoa looked up into the heavens. Wyverns were swirling above.
“…Ha.”
Belnoa let out a hollow laugh.
The wyverns circling above all had broken horns. Belnoa knew what that meant. Soon after, a massive shadow loomed overhead.
A creature of size unmatched by any wyvern.
From a higher altitude, a dragon gazed down at Belnoa. The dragon did not roar. It merely lowered its head slightly, as if creating a way down for its rider.
Then came the thud sound.
Someone leaped off the dragon’s head.
The figure plummeted quickly, landing with a whump that kicked up a cloud of dust. Amidst the rising dust came a voice.
“Truly amazing.”
The commander of the wyvern troop.
“Surviving in the Phantom Territory for so long, continuing to fight while injured, and escaping safely from the domain of that great being…”
An ancient superhuman from the Phantom Territory.
“Reaching this point is nothing short of miraculous.”
The Dragon Hunter, Asterio.
“I’d like to applaud you. I’m not being sarcastic; I genuinely mean it.”
He waved his hand lightly to clear the dust.
“I’ve been waiting. Shadow Knight.”
Just as Belnoa regarded this point as his last barrier, so did the Demon Lord’s Army, who had been chasing him. In the end, Belnoa had to cross this place, so Asterio awaited him atop this cliff.
“I’m sorry, but you can’t cross here.”
He aimed the tip of his great sword at Belnoa.
Staring at the sword point directed at him, Belnoa hollowly laughed. The end of his journey. Waiting for him at the final barrier was none other than a superhuman from the Phantom Territory. A superhuman who had lived for hundreds of years.
…What about him?
Wounds seeping with pus.
A blurred mind from poisoning.
The magical poisoning manifesting due to magical erosion.
A body at best able to stand, deprived of proper meals or rest. Furthermore, countless minor injuries hindered his movement.
He had to fight a superhuman in such a state. Not to mention against the notoriously strong wyvern army he commanded. Honestly, it sounded like a death warrant to him.
“Damn it all.”
Asterio smiled ruefully at Belnoa’s mutter.
“I’m sorry.”
But, Asterio said,
“Orders are orders, and I must follow them. The great being wishes for your death.”
Before being a warrior, Asterio was an executive of the Demon Lord’s Army.
He knew he must prioritize mission success over personal honor, thus he lightly waved his hand. The wyverns circling above began to dive simultaneously.
“This will be your last place.”
Wyverns breathing fire as they descended.
A dragon preparing to unleash its breath across the area.
And among them, the superhuman charging in.
Watching the superhuman pour all his strength against a dying man, Belnoa gritted his teeth.
