Chapter 62: Citadel (2)
Under Commander Nidra’s leadership, over a hundred Reapers spread out.
They gripped their spears, aimed at the hydra, and threw them in unison.
―Thud!
The Reapers’ spears pierced the hydra’s body, embedding themselves like quills on a porcupine.
“Saaak!”
But if it fell to such an attack, it wouldn’t be a great beast.
Each head unleashed catastrophic power from its maw.
“Evade.”
At Nidra’s command, the Reapers retreated, recalling their spears.
The spears embedded in the hydra vanished like smoke, reappearing in their hands.
The wounds left behind healed almost instantly.
“This thing must have had regenerative abilities in its original world. Troublesome.”
The hydra’s explosive regeneration, fused with vampire power,
made it nearly immortal.
“Stall it. At your level, killing it will be difficult.”
Following his order, the Reapers charged again, risking their lives.
They performed daring acrobatics, confronting the hydra’s nine heads.
Nidra, observing from a distance, summoned a spear with a wave of his hand.
Holding it, he turned to the throne, bowing.
“Forgive me for causing a disturbance before the great god.”
Raising his head, Nidra flicked his wrist and threw the spear.
―Whoosh!
The impact shook the coast.
The spear pierced the hydra, leaving a gaping hole in its body.
“Saak!”
Staggered by the blow that tore half its body, the hydra faltered,
and the Reapers seized the moment to attack again.
Amid this clash,
Evan and Gaiard, who had already detached, were falling near the Citadel’s outskirts.
“Land beyond the wall, got it?”
“Obviously. If your reckless plan goes even slightly awry, I won’t come out unscathed either.”
Gaiard spread his wings, grabbing Evan’s arm.
Controlling their descent, they crossed the wall and crash-landed in an alley.
Just then, a Reaper passing by spotted them.
“Should I call this luck…?”
Seeing the Reaper approach, Gaiard warned Evan.
“That one’s a Sword Expert by your standards. Be careful.”
“I know. You drilled it into me enough on the way.”
“No amount of warning is enough.”
The Reapers existed to maintain order across the Citadel and the Coast of the Dead.
Each masked Reaper was a formidable warrior,
and their presence ensured no rebellion had ever occurred in the Citadel.
“And just to be safe, don’t get hit by that spear. It pierces souls. Once caught, it’s not easily removed.”
With that, the Reaper demonstratively threw its spear.
Its speed was so great, it was nearly impossible to react, like an arrow shot point-blank.
Evan deflected it reflexively, but the impact tilted his body.
“Ugh!”
He grabbed the spear floating in midair to counterattack.
But the moment he touched it, it vanished like smoke.
‘What’s this?’
In its place, the Reaper appeared, fist raised to strike.
Evan blocked with his sword, but the overwhelming force slammed him into the ground.
―Boom!!!
Despite blocking, the impact felt like his spine shattered.
“Urgh!”
The Reaper summoned another spear with its other hand, aiming for Evan’s head.
Gaiard charged, tackling the Reaper.
‘That explosive power rivals the head instructor. Same with its speed. I’ll have to go all out.’
Gaiard, too, was overpowered, his face smashed into a wall.
Evan sent a sword aura toward them.
“…”
The Reaper swiftly ascended, dodging the aura, leaving Gaiard’s waist cleaved in half.
“Trying to die?”
His waist regenerated as he glared at Evan.
“You’ll revive anyway. It was the only way to catch it.”
“Then you be the bait this time.”
“Fine!”
The Reaper didn’t tolerate their bickering.
Holding two spears, it thrust at them.
Evan reversed his grip, lodging his sword into the spear’s shaft.
―Clang!
Immediately, the Reaper’s lightning-fast fist came at him.
‘If I can’t match your strength or speed…’
Fortunately, Evan had his past life’s knowledge and reflexes sharp enough to react to lightning.
He deflected the fist with both arms, closing the distance.
‘…it comes down to technique.’
The Reaper tried to grab him with its other hand, but Evan twisted, knocking its arm away.
“You can’t have more combat experience than me.”
Grabbing the deflected arm, Evan tripped the Reaper, flipping it backward.
―Whoosh!
Gaiard conjured blood spikes from the ground, piercing the Reaper.
―Thud!
Impaled, the Reaper slumped, trying to pull free.
“Not so fast!”
Evan drew his sword and beheaded it.
―Thump!
The Reaper’s head rolled.
Its form dissipated, leaving only its armor and mask.
“What? That’s it? It won’t come back, right?”
“Yes, these are sustained by the god’s will. They vanish upon sufficient damage.”
“That’s a relief.”
Gaiard looked at Evan incredulously at the word “relief.”
“Relief? Do you not realize how reckless your plan is? There are over two hundred of these.”
“But half are dealing with the hydra.”
Gaiard shook his head at Evan’s optimism.
“Fine. Change into that armor. It’s just a disguise, but it’ll keep you less noticeable.”
Evan donned the armor and mask.
“The lack of wings is a problem.”
“No soul here will find it odd. But avoid the Reapers. They identify each other with silent signals.”
Once Evan was disguised, Gaiard transformed into a bat.
He added a warning about the Citadel’s structure.
“This is a haven for the dead. Everyone here, except us, is a soul. So, no matter what, don’t remove the mask.”
Evan didn’t need to ask why—he felt it.
Stepping out of the alley, he saw translucent souls milling about.
‘Real souls?’
They whispered about the commotion outside, looking every bit like a human city.
“Guide me.”
Evan wove through them, whispering to Gaiard.
“Go straight. It’ll lead to the spire.”
“Got it.”
“Wait! A Reaper ahead.”
They dodged Reapers, navigating the city.
“One on the right.”
Carefully avoiding the Reapers stationed throughout, they reached the city’s center.
‘That giant statue is their god?’
Nearing the spire, Evan saw the colossal statue atop it.
Even with closed eyes, it felt like it was watching, creating an uneasy illusion.
Anxious, Evan hurried toward the gate above the statue’s head,
where souls were still entering the Citadel.
“Gaiard, your turn.”
Evan removed the armor and mask.
“Understood.”
Gaiard reverted to human form, spread his wings, grabbed Evan’s arms, and soared.
The shortest route to the gate.
Gaiard flapped his wings with all his might.
As they ascended, the Reapers overseeing the souls spotted them.
“…”
They immediately pursued, some throwing spears.
―Whoosh!
Gaiard dodged, shouting.
“Fire sword auras to stop them!”
“That’s not so easy.”
“Then you just planned to use me?”
“Fine!”
Evan let go with one hand, drawing his sword.
Despite the shaking, he accurately fired sword auras at the Reapers.
‘My auras can’t yet cut through their armor.’
Killing them with auras wasn’t possible.
But Evan’s goal wasn’t to kill.
He just needed to stall.
Slicing their wings, the Reapers faltered, and Gaiard widened the gap.
He marveled at Evan cutting the Reapers’ wings.
‘First time I’ve seen someone do exactly as told.’
Evan blocked the Reapers’ approach.
Dodging their spears was Gaiard’s pride.
“We’re here!”
Together, they reached the stairway’s end.
The souls about to descend scattered in panic.
“What’s that?”
“A living person?”
They stopped, witnessing a first in Citadel history, perhaps never to repeat.
“Go! Cross that bridge, and it’s the gate!”
Ignoring their gazes, Gaiard and Evan ran.
If they reached it before the Reapers caught up, maybe…
“Twenty steps left…”
Gaiard, crossing the bridge, froze.
Evan turned, urgently shouting.
“What are you doing? Hurry!”
Despite Evan’s call, Gaiard didn’t move.
The light faded from his eyes.
“…Seems we’re too late.”
“What nonsense…”
Reading Gaiard’s expression, Evan looked grimly at the gate.
A child stood there, unnoticed until now.
‘No presence? No, who is that child…?’
A boy with bangs covering his eyes.
As the bangs swayed, blue light gleamed through.
“Where are you going after causing this chaos?”
A voice that pierced the heart.
Though soft, Evan could only think one thing.
This child
is the most dangerous being in this space.
And only one being fit that description.
“Where are you going?”
The child smiled brightly.
Simultaneously, Reapers ascended, surrounding Gaiard and Evan.
Yet, they neither attacked nor seized them, seemingly awaiting the child’s command.
“Stay still. Before I erase you.”
The child’s gaze turned to the hydra, still locked in fierce combat.
Extending a hand toward it, the child slowly clenched a fist.
‘Insane!’
The hydra, raging moments ago, crumpled as if bound.
It was subdued.
The hydra was drawn to the Citadel, landing in a corner.
Hundreds of chains sprang from the ground, binding it tightly.
“Saak! Saak!!!”
It struggled, but the chains dug deeper, and all nine heads were bound, slammed into the ground.
As the commotion subsided, Nidra flew to the scene, kneeling before the child.
“O God, my inadequacy forced your sacred steps. Please do not forgive me.”
“It’s fine. I came out because I was bored.”
Nidra’s words confirmed it.
The child was Hel.
Hel snapped a finger at Evan and Gaiard.
Chains, like those binding the hydra, surged from below the bridge.
―Clank.
Gaiard was caught, but Evan slashed the chains, trying to evade.
“Such insolence!”
“Oh?”
Hel watched with interest.
Chapter 65: Trauma (2)
Mikhail Reverk, the undefeated vanguard.
As a commander, he never lost.
But as a human, Mikhail faced defeats, one being his time as a centurion.
In a battle at the border with Manoa Kingdom, the Empire’s greatest enemy, he, a centurion of an infantry unit, fought on one front.
Despite his efforts and his unit’s sacrifices, the village at the border was massacred.
This deeply scarred Evan, reinforcing his obsessive need to protect everyone.
‘This isn’t right.’
In the heart of the scene that birthed this trauma, Evan stood amid soldiers of both nations, bleeding and fallen.
Though the villagers hadn’t yet been slaughtered, nor his unit entirely lost, the sight made him collapse.
―Thud.
The black sea kept prodding Evan’s trauma, exposing him to despair, hoping he’d surrender and let go.
Yet, there was a way to overcome it, as he’d done by giving Gid his end.
There had to be a way to conquer this situation too.
The problem was that every moment of this memory was excruciatingly vivid.
“Huff…”
The Gid incident had faded as Evan left the arena, as he’d chosen to forget.
But this massacre was different.
Losing his unit and over a thousand villagers was etched in his mind,
impossible to erase.
―Save me!
―Waaah!!!
The memory was so ingrained, it haunted his nightmares.
“Fool! Get up! What, planning to sleep because it’s night?”
Robern grabbed the collapsed Evan by the collar, pulling him up.
“Take your unit and advance with the other infantry to ambush in the swamp! Go hold off Bryden’s cavalry!”
Robern, a key culprit in this disaster, issued the order.
A suicidal command to fight the kingdom’s cavalry in the swamp.
Naturally, Evan had no intention of complying.
“Shut up!”
Fueled by rage for his future death, Evan struck.
But his opponent wasn’t easy.
“Finally gone mad?”
Though not yet a knight commander, Robern was a near-Sword Master genius.
Evan, talented but barely wielding aura, couldn’t match him.
His mind planned a perfect attack, but his body failed.
Robern drew his sword mercilessly.
―Slash!
Even as he was cut, Evan thought of Robern.
‘Vile bastard, as cold then as now.’
Brief darkness, and he returned to the prior moment.
“Idiot! What are you doing!”
Facing that repulsive face, Evan calmed his churning stomach.
‘I’d love to fight that bastard thousands of times. But it’s a pointless waste.’
Facing his nemesis, Evan recalled the battle’s context.
To escape this horrific memory, he had to act.
‘They were guarding the Keldian Mountains, one of the Empire’s eastern fronts. The problem was Bryden’s army crossing the mountains.’
Robern’s task, as deputy commander, was to hold until the Empire’s main force arrived.
Evan, a centurion under him, was part of this.
‘The issue was struggling against even Bryden’s small vanguard.’
Bryden’s cavalry, fully armored from horse to rider, was nicknamed a moving fortress.
As an elite unit, even their small force caused heavy losses.
The Keldian Mountains weren’t a major front, so the Empire hadn’t stationed many troops.
Bryden’s surprise attack exploited this.
“It’s night, so ambushing them as they cross the swamp can buy time. They won’t send all forces at once. Got it? Move!”
Robern’s order, from his elite tactical training, was straightforward but flawed.
Lacking real combat experience, he lacked flexibility.
And facing Bryden, a seasoned commander, made it worse.
‘Fool. They know they can’t come all at once. Why not consider they’ll split up?’
Arguing was futile.
Robern’s pride was immense, and Evan, a lowly commoner unlike his noble blood, would face a sword for backtalk.
So, Evan complied.
“Understood.”
Bastard, he added silently, heading to his unit.
Only half survived, all bearing injuries.
“What’s that guy saying? Are we finally resting?”
Fresh from battle, they craved rest.
“No, we head to the western forest of the Keldian Mountains.”
“What? With the others?”
“Just us. Others go to the swamp. We slip out west. It’s night; no one will notice.”
An odd order, but they didn’t question it.
“No secrets. We might risk our lives. But we’ll buy time for Beben village’s residents to evacuate.”
“If that’s the case, we’ll follow without complaint.”
Thus, Evan and his unit moved against Robern’s orders.
“Now.”
Under a cloudy sky, Evan’s unit, at the rear, slipped away unnoticed, heading to the western forest.
‘I know Bryden isn’t with the main force. He’s with the guerrilla unit in the eastern forest, opposite my path.’
The war was no longer his concern.
His goal was one thing.
‘Even if we all die, we save Beben’s residents this time.’
A human can’t fully stop a waterfall, but diverting part of its path was possible.
‘Blocking one guerrilla unit could buy time.’
Behind them was a village of over a thousand, preparing to evacuate.
In the original history, the front collapsed, and the villagers perished.
‘Stopping Bryden is nearly impossible. Then I must block the left flank, disrupting his tactics.’
Unlike saving Gid, with one variable, this had countless variables—human free will created infinite possibilities.
Evan aimed to do his best, a chance to ease his heart’s burden.
“Follow me!”
Evan and his remaining unit headed to the western forest, where the guerrilla unit was expected.
They secured high, rugged terrain, hiding under clouds.
―Clop clop.
Distant torchlight and hoofbeats faintly echoed.
―Clop clop!
A long guerrilla unit passed in a line.
When its middle reached, Evan shouted.
“Charge!”
He and his soldiers sprang from the forest.
Outnumbered, their momentum was fierce.
“Waaa!!!”
The elite cavalry’s horses didn’t flinch, but the riders panicked, and Evan attacked full force.
―Clang! Clang!
Weapons clashed across the battlefield.
“Argh!”
“Ack!”
The ambushed cavalry screamed, falling from their mounts.
The attack succeeded, briefly halting their advance.
“Calmly subdue them! Their numbers are mere dozens!”
But that was it.
The cavalry regained composure, systematically overpowering Evan’s unit.
―Thud!
Three riders surrounded a soldier, stabbing with spears.
“Guh!”
Long spears pierced, and swords beheaded.
‘Damn it, holding them longer is impossible.’
Seeing his men fall, Evan shouted.
“Retreat now! To the rendezvous!”
With their signal, they scattered into the forest.
Pursuit followed but soon fell back.
The rendezvous was a canyon vantage point, chosen to observe the village.
There, Evan and the survivors saw despair:
the village burned, and the kingdom’s flags advanced far.
‘Robern, you bastard! We blocked a guerrilla unit, and you still retreated?’
Heartbroken, he didn’t notice the pursuit catching up.
“Kill them all!”
“Damn! Captain, it was an honor!”
Evan and his men fought their final stand.
***
Returning, Evan gave a different order.
Not blocking the western guerrilla unit, nor facing the main force head-on, “We slip to the eastern forest.”
This time, he’d face Bryden’s guerrilla unit on the right.
‘If we buy time for the villagers to escape, that’s enough.’
Prepared to die, Bryden’s unit was formidable.
Even with the same ambush, they didn’t waver, like crashing bare-handed into an iron wall.
‘The ambush was spotted, again.’
‘Too late. They’re just charging, again.’
‘Damn it! My unit’s entry was slow, again!’
‘Again!’
‘Again!’
‘Again!’
Endless regressions.
Yet, Evan never gave up.
Overcoming the trauma of Gid strengthened his resolve.
Gid’s words to survive drove him forward.
Even in hopeless situations with fixed outcomes, Evan sought to break fate.
‘Again!!!’
Now on his fiftieth ambush, through countless trials, he optimized the battlefield’s chaos.
The culprit forcing these repetitions was one man, the leader of the right guerrilla unit.
‘So tiresome, Bryden!’
Before a commander, Bryden, called the Blue-Eyed Knight.
Wielding a massive lance, too heavy for most to lift with two hands, he swung it single-handedly, like a twig.
Where the Blue-Eyed Knight passed, only enemy corpses remained.
A kingdom hero, even Evan struggled against him.
―Clop clop!
His steed, Kelron, navigated forest paths freely, its lance invincible.
‘Bryden’s a foe even prime-me would face seriously. Avoid direct confrontation!’
So, Evan targeted the guerrilla unit’s rear, delaying encounters with Bryden.
‘If not for that damn horse, I’d have bought more time!’
Still, Evan and his unit’s sacrificial resolve bought time.
‘The left guerrilla unit should be manageable, even for that bastard Robern.’
His allies dwindled faster than before.
Evan led the five remaining to escape into the forest.
“Retreat!”
Reaching the vantage point, he witnessed the same scene.
‘Why…’
As he stared in despair, Bryden’s lance pierced his chest.
“Valiant, Empire’s pawn. But courage alone can’t achieve everything.”
“Guh! Is that so?”
His fifty-second regression.