You Want Me to Go Out Now?
Inside The Cavern, a subterranean hollow completely drenched in blood, two factions stood at a tense standoff, their murderous auras clashing in the air.
And from the very center of that tension rang out a woman's ecstatic, mocking laughter.
"Hahaha! Ahahaha!"
It was a hideous sound. Screeching as if her vocal cords had been shredded, her voice sent an inexplicable, skin-crawling shiver down the spine of everyone who heard it.
"It is already too late! Our god... has been resurrected!"
The screaming woman was in a truly wretched state. Her right arm had been completely severed and was nowhere to be seen, and her face was grotesquely warped, as if she had taken a direct hit from some devastating spell. Yet, she seemed utterly indifferent to her horrific injuries.
"Ahahaha! Ha-ha-ha!"
She simply kept laughing, like someone who had completely lost her mind. As if in response to her mad cackling, a voice trembled from the opposing side.
"Y-You crazy bitch..."
The woman gripping her sword could not contain her rage, her hands trembling violently.
"Did they really... actually resurrect it?"
Beside her, a man stared blankly at the cultist, his eyes hollow and drained of all hope.
"Oh, Helios..."
A woman clad in a nun's habit—evidently a priestess—had fallen to her knees, desperately whispering prayers.
Behind them, the rest of the crowd had descended into utter panic, murmuring and shuffling in sheer terror.
Has it really been resurrected? Then... what's going to happen to us? They said we still had time left!
Once fear took root, it refused to wither. This was true even though these people were veterans, handpicked through a rigorous selection process from the finest the continent had to offer.
Of course, their terror was entirely justified. Their original mission had never been to defeat the resurrected entity—it had been to desperately prevent its resurrection in the first place. They had never even entertained the possibility of actually fighting the thing.
"To actually resurrect the Great Calamity... Do you really want us all to die together?"
For the entity they were about to face was the continent's eternal nemesis.
The Great Calamity.
"Ah..."
"Tsk... Dammit."
The Great Calamity. The Nine-Headed Dragon. The Crimson Doom.
There were many epithets for the beast. Yet, it had no proper name. People simply referred to it out of habit as the "Great Calamity" or the "Crimson Doom."
The reason was simple: to name something was to define its existence. The beast was something that should never be understood, nor should it ever be remembered.
It didn't matter what holy titles the cultists bestowed upon it. No matter how much they tried to dress it up in sacred words, the fundamental truth remained unchanged: it was a disaster incarnate.
And those who worshipped the disaster cared nothing for how the world viewed them.
Their goal was singular. The resurrection of their lord, and nothing else.
In the end, the reality of their current situation was stark.
Such an entity had been resurrected, right before their very eyes. It was only natural that despair gripped the hearts of so many.
Yet, even among a panicked crowd, there was always someone who refused to let their light be snuffed out.
"Fuck... Get a grip, all of you!"
"Y-Yuria."
An elf, judging by her long, pointed ears, began to rally the others, her voice thick with frustration.
"Why are you giving up already? We haven't even fought the damn thing yet!"
She spoke as if victory were still within reach. Indeed, her eyes gleamed with a fierce, unyielding light.
Though, of course, the others didn't seem to share her optimism.
"Don't you dare give up! You useless dumbasses!"
She was practically jumping up and down now, trying to force some life back into them. But the quiet response that came back, as if they understood her desperation but couldn't match it, was...
"How? How the hell are we supposed to win?"
It was heavy with an inescapable sense of defeat. Their spirits had already broken before the battle had even begun.
"It's already resurrected—"
Smack!
Naturally, the elf archer didn't bother answering the pessimistic question with words. She simply threw a punch to snap him out of it.
"Y-Yuria..."
"Shut the fuck up, you idiot! And Karius, for the love of god, get a grip! This isn't like you at all!"
"..."
She was fighting a lonely battle among the panicked crowd. Unfortunately, her desperate screams didn't seem to be doing much good.
Most of them still struggled to even hold their weapons properly.
"...Tsk."
She needed a different approach. After a brief moment of calculation, Yuria drew an arrow, notched it to her bowstring, and aimed without a shred of hesitation.
Thwip! Thwack!
The shot was fired in the blink of an eye.
"Gggh... krrgh..."
Her target, naturally, was the cultist woman who had been laughing hysterically just moments ago.
"Y-Yuria!"
"Fuck! We have to do *something*!"
Yuria's arrows had pierced the woman's neck and face cleanly. It was a fatal wound that would have instantly killed any ordinary human. But as established, she was far from ordinary. Despite having her throat and face impaled, she merely kept laughing as if she hadn't felt a thing.
"Krr... gyahahaha!"
If anything, the arrows made her laughter sound even more bizarre. The gurgling of blood in her throat made the sound utterly repulsive.
"Do you think... *gurgle*... killing me will change anything?"
"I don't know, but I'm sure as hell going to try, you son of a bitch!"
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Yuria unleashed a relentless barrage of arrows upon the woman.
Her torso. Her legs. Her remaining arm.
As if determined to turn her into a pincushion, Yuria desperately fired arrow after arrow.
"Die! Just die already!"
Watching her frantic, rage-filled assault, a man quietly stepped forward.
Slowly, he reached out and caught her hand just as she was about to draw another arrow.
"Yuria."
"K-Karius? What the hell are you doing?!"
Naturally, Yuria snapped at him, her eyes flashing with a hint of betrayal and contempt.
"What are you doing? Please. Not you too..."
She looked as if she had been stabbed in the back by the one person she trusted most.
But the words Karius offered her were...
"Save your arrows."
"...What?"
It was an entirely unexpected response.
"What do you... mean by that?"
Stunned by his words, the tension in Yuria's eyes softened slightly.
"You said those arrows were crafted from the branches of the Divine Tree, right? You brought them specifically for this fight... So, save them."
Why was he telling her to save them? He didn't explain. Yet, Yuria understood instantly.
"..."
She could read it in his quiet, steady gaze. She wasn't the only one preparing for the battle ahead.
Slowly, Yuria lowered her bow.
She unnotched her arrow, though she still didn't give him a verbal reply.
Karius smirked.
That was enough for him. He didn't need her to say anything. With a faint smile, he turned his head toward the rest of the group.
His next shout took everyone by surprise.
"Everyone, fall back! Get out of this cavern!"
He was telling them to run, to abandon the battlefield.
It made no sense. Surely, even one extra sword would help. Why was he telling them to leave?
It was only natural to question his command.
"What? Why are you telling everyone to leave? Surely having more people is better than—"
The questioning voice came from the woman standing right beside him—Rona. But Karius didn't answer her directly.
"Rona."
"Yes?"
"Most of them won't even be able to stand. Help them evacuate."
"...Alright, I understand."
Yuria, standing nearby, gave a curt nod. Her conviction that they wouldn't even be able to stand was well-founded. Indeed, many in the crowd were already collapsing to their knees in terror.
Rumble...
No sooner had the words left her mouth than the entire cavern began to violently shudder, as if signaling the start of something cataclysmic.
Staring toward the source of the tremors, Karius spoke to Yuria.
"Yuria."
"You felt it first, didn't you?"
"...Hmph."
He was asking if her elven perception had picked up on it before anyone else. Even without him spelling it out, she understood perfectly.
"Incredible, honestly."
"...Incredible my ass, you idiot."
For Karius was only just beginning to feel it now.
"It's... better if it's just the two of us. Anyone else staying here will just be throwing their lives away."
"Fine. Do whatever the hell you want."
From beyond the pitch-black stone walls, an unimaginably colossal pressure was beginning to seep out.
Having said his piece, Karius looked around, wanting to ensure that everyone was making their escape.
"Man, I really didn't want things to turn out like this."
"...Crazy bastard."
But Karius's wishes were not to be granted.
When he turned around, the sight that met his eyes was...
"I-I will stay!"
"Me too! I'd rather die here alongside Lord Karius!"
"I won't run away either!"
Not a single person had fled. They were all forcing themselves to stand tall.
Some had legs that shook like reeds. Others wept, sensing their impending doom. Some could barely lift their weapons, dragging their swords along the stone floor.
Yet, every single one of them stood behind Karius, projecting an unyielding resolve not to retreat, even though merely standing upright was an agonizing struggle.
"Yuria."
"What."
Seeing this, Karius opened his mouth to say something to Yuria.
Or rather, he tried to.
"If we make it out of here alive..."
"Shut the fuck up."
Before he could even finish his sentence, Yuria cut him off with a curse and a look of pure disgust.
Yet, even with his words cut short, Karius merely smiled, as if he had expected nothing less. He didn't push the matter.
Perhaps he had craved that familiar, blunt banter of hers to steady his nerves, though she would never know. Meanwhile, the tremors shaking the cavern grew increasingly violent.
Rumble...
"Heh, is it really a god?"
"...Yeah. It's coming."
In that moment, Yuria saw it. No, she couldn't help but notice.
As Karius spoke with that faint smile, the tip of his sword was trembling ever so slightly.
She had never seen him like this. In all the time she had known him, Karius had never trembled. It was a bitter irony that only now, at the brink of death, did she finally understand his true character.
You idiot.
Before every battle, Karius would spout some ridiculous, nonsensical jokes. She had always thought he was just a slacker who couldn't take anything seriously.
She had even looked down on him at times. But now... things were different. She finally understood the weight behind those lighthearted words.
"Krr... gyahahaha!"
The cultist's laughter rang out once more.
The distorted, grotesque sound felt like a twisted hymn welcoming the descent of a god.
With arrows protruding from every inch of her body, she spread her arms wide—even gesturing with her stump of a right arm—to welcome the entity. She was, without a doubt, completely out of her mind.
Then, she shrieked her final plea.
"Our god!"
BOOM!
At that exact moment, a massive section of the cavern collapsed. A stone wall wide enough to easily house thousands of people crumbled away like sand.
Even a child could tell what was happening. Something was... emerging from the ruins of that wall.
*Gulp.*
The sound of someone swallowing hard echoed loudly in the tense silence.
"I beg of you, dye this world..."
*Pant... pant...*
Karius adjusted his grip on his sword, his breath ragged and trembling.
*Thud. Thud.*
Finally, the wall collapsed entirely, and a massive silhouette began to take shape through the dust.
"...in your absolute darkness!"
The cultist screamed her final, blood-spat prayer.
Hearing her desperate cry, everyone present was forced to accept the grim reality.
It had descended. The resurrection was complete.
The very entity they had fought so desperately to stop. The one they had sworn over and over again to seal away forever.
It had finally... arrived.
As every eye locked onto the gaping, dark abyss, the thing that finally stepped out was...
"O-Oh, great..."
"..."
Whoosh...
"...God?"
There was absolutely nothing there.
Go out there right now?
Are you fucking crazy?