Holy Fire

The undead are strong against the cold. Already dead, they have no body heat to speak of, and frostbite and hypothermia cannot touch them. Humans are different. Even an Awakened is no exception.

"Ugh. I'm actually going to freeze to death."

A hunter bundled in thick padding, mana rippling through the fabric, shivered so hard his jaw rattled. He flicked me a strange look, then moved on. Just as I'd expected. In nothing but a tracksuit and a thin jersey, I had to look absurd out here.

Once he was gone, I changed the appearance of Naizen's robe until it matched the padding that hunter had been wearing—right down to the mana pattern wrapped around the outside.

Of course, only the look was the same. The performance itself was not copied.

Feeling the cold cut off completely, I was struck all over again by how useful the robe was.

A few more steps and the snowfall turned properly fierce. The snow squeaked and crunched underfoot. Soon I was sinking deep with every stride, but it never made it through the snow boots I had bought from the equipment merchant for 350 points.

"Krek. Krek..."

Before long, a single red dot drew near. I could have burned it away already. I didn't.

The request was urgent, but where a skill was concerned I had to confirm it with my own eyes. Otherwise I would have no proper answer when a real crisis hit.

"Krek... krung, krung, krung!!!"

It wasn't long before the monster showed itself against the pure white snowfield: one filthy wild dog, a perfect contrast to that clean backdrop. Its skull was split halfway open, two sharp fangs jutted from the ruin, its ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠waist was unnaturally long, and its paws were broad—built for kicking off the snow in a single bound.

"Kyaaaaaaah!!!"

Watching it close the distance at tremendous speed, I raised my palm. A fireball rose, and inside it a faint white energy swirled. Against the undead, that energy was judged more important than raw firepower itself. It was Holy Fire.

The thing kicked off the snow and leapt. I stared into its darkened eyes—the eyeballs already gone, only a foul blackness filling the sockets—and drove the fireball between them, straight into the brow.

Not a piercing strike. An impact that kept its full weight. The front half of the body burst apart, and what remained of the rear tumbled across the snowfield.

Nothing unusual. A wild dog with its torso blown open. Simple magical destructive force. Holy Fire didn't seem to have done anything in particular.

"...Hm."

Had the firepower been so overwhelming that I'd simply failed to see Holy Fire's effect? The moment I thought it, the wild dog's hind legs planted in the snow and stood.

Yes. It really stood. A rotten lump of meat with neither head nor eyes.

How had it stood when it couldn't even see? I set the question aside and stared at the thing. From inside that dangling rotten meat, black smoke seeped out, bleak and thin. The source of the power that moved the undead—the thing they called a death core—still had not lost its strength.

So a plain physical or magical blow isn't enough to shut the core down.

I shifted a finger, just slightly. With no eyes, the thing couldn't react. I floated fireballs around it and got no response at all. Then I moved my foot lightly, and in an instant its hind legs flinched. It had definitely sensed the vibration through the ground.

It kicked off the surface of the snow and closed the distance in a flash. Grotesque, yes, but not particularly threatening. If anything, this was a good chance to confirm how Holy Fire worked. I loaded its energy into a fireball with the power cut to a minimum and drove it into the core.

The fireball punched a small hole and pierced straight through. In that instant a pure white light began to spread across the rotten body. Silver holy light widened its domain like a hairline crack etched into glass, and at the same time the rotten flesh began, slowly, to melt.

Pitch-black ichor streamed through the filthy hide. The wild dog staggered, spilling what looked like filth across the pure white snow, and a moment later it collapsed, leaving nothing behind but hide and claws.

I stepped closer. The death core had been completely erased. Flesh and muscle, of course—even the bones had melted without a trace.

"...Hm."

The conclusion was clear. A simple physical blow was unwise. The best course was to pierce the power source, the core, with precision. Get the strike right, and the enemy melted. Just as I had seen.

But it had taken longer than I'd thought. Even a wild dog with only part of its body left had needed about two seconds to melt completely. From what I had read on the community forums and in the archives, the stronger the undead monster, the longer it took to put down. At this rate, suppressing them alone would be impossible.

...At this rate.

But the change began at once.

Just as expected, Holy Fire hit maximum level in a single breath. I summoned a fireball in the empty air and checked its color. In place of the old faint silver, holy light rippled, bright—almost like sunlight wavering.

"...Yeah. That's no joke."

I walked toward the nearest red dot. The same wild dog as before. Its detection range was about three hundred meters—roughly a hundred meters short of an orc's. Only after I had drawn quite close did it notice me. It howled roughly and kicked off the ground.

"Krung!"

This time I would focus on penetration. I summoned three fireballs into the air, meaning to grant them Holy Fire and pierce the body all at once. Pinpointing the death core would have been ideal, but that was impossible. Even the highest-level Awakened couldn't do it, or so it was said. Wanting that would be greed.

Staring at the wild dog as it charged in hard, I gauged where the core was likely to be, then moved to launch the three fireballs hanging in the air—

"...What?"

—and didn't. I narrowed my eyes and quietly stared at the thing. Fangs, unnaturally long. Ichor drooling from beneath its gaping maw. Eye sockets, hollow and pitch-dark. Beyond them, I could see it. I could feel it. Black energy spreading through the whole body like hairline cracks, and the wellspring of that energy. The death core.

I dispersed two of the fireballs and at once poured my will into the third.

"Kyaaaaaaah!!"

Even with the monster charging, there was no panic. Fireball and Crimson Flame had already reached maximum level, but I hadn't been satisfied with that. Over the past few days I had driven myself to the very limit my mental strength would allow. Maybe that was why. It wasn't the highest form of Shape Change—the kind that turned you into a living creature and made use of even its traits—but I had reached the limit of what I myself could touch.

Red Arrow. A crimson arrow flew like a flash of lightning, punched through the thing's maw, and pierced the death core. A silver flash flared for an instant. Instead of neutralizing the core, it blew the thing apart outright.

A tremendous explosive force erupted from the death core. Rather than melting, the body was utterly shattered, and the pieces rained out of the sky. I didn't bother dodging the filthy clumps. I simply pulled up the hood of my padding.

Damage prevention, appearance replication, and even automatic purification. The Traveler's Robe was all-purpose.

The undead that appeared on the snowfield came in considerable variety. Wild dogs and foxes that wandered without destination. Wolves that hunted in packs. Bears and tigers formidable even as single creatures. And primates, too.

"......"

The death core's location changed with the kind of monster, which was why most Awakened on the snowfield hunted in parties. Fail to land a proper strike, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and you needed a comrade to keep you alive. I was different. I still didn't need comrades. I had more than enough power to protect myself.

I quietly watched the wolf charging in.

"Kreeee!"

A few hunts had made it plain. Maximum-level Holy Fire was not simple purification. I could see it with my eyes, and I could feel it with my senses—the energy that moved them, the death core, without an inch of error.

A Red Arrow flew like lightning and pierced the core. Dazzling silver holy light burst out after it, a purification that burned the death core's black energy away in an instant. The light tried to spread through the wolf's whole body and couldn't. The body failed to withstand that intense purification and burst on the spot.

With a thick, meaty rupture, the wolf blew apart like a balloon. Filthy fur and rotten organs painted the air, and in that span the wolves that had already surrounded me closed in. Five undead wolves. They growled, yet they didn't rush in rashly—they only circled.

Those hollow sockets were not fixed on me. Five crimson fire-arrows floated in the air, and the five Red Arrows that had just burst their packmate were shifting direction in time with their movements.

"So you things know fear after all."

As if the words were a signal, the wolves charged. It was useless. Detection, grown as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠familiar as breathing, read their movements, and the maximum-level fireballs—their Shape Change already complete—pierced every death core with perfect accuracy. The bodies burst like fireworks, as if they had promised it. In an instant the five wolves became lumps of meat and stained the snowfield black.

They pattered down across the snow.

"Done."

Six wolves with intelligence, and I had taken every one of them cleanly. Preparations were complete. I drew a map in my head, fixing my position from the width of the barrier stretching north and the angle of the sunlight, then used the materials Yu Ji-seong had given me to gauge where Choi Geon-woo had gone missing. I walked on, cutting down the monsters that appeared now and then, until the place the Awakened of Node Workshop had all described came into view.

"So this is Death's Anvil..."

A vast rocky plateau, wholly out of place against the pure white snowfield. Like Nehemis's Tree of Life, it was an unknown space where monsters were not permitted to approach. Dozens of workers moved busily across it, directing and making something.

A fair number looked like combat-type hunters as well—seasoned, skilled Awakened, all of them. With monster access restricted they seemed relaxed, and yet the moment I appeared, not a single one of them missed me.

I turned my head. At the center ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the rocky plateau, atop a platform of dark stone stacked roughly two meters high, three people sat in chairs, focused on an object set upon the table.

I started toward them. Someone soon blocked my way.

"What's your business?"

A huge man in armor was looking down at me.

© Dom Hwangcha #1ylk2