The New North God
The symbol of the North's victory.
From far beyond the distant mountain range, a black arrow was streaking through the sky. It crossed the peaks in an instant—
BOOOOOM!
It slammed dead center into the Fourth's chest.
KWAKWAKWAKWAKWA!
The sheer force of the arrow drove the Fourth's body backward, crushing through the buildings of the city center without end. It dug its one remaining foot in to stop itself, but the brakes simply would not catch.
[Kgh—!]
The Fourth frantically twisted around.
Right behind it stood the Grand Duke's castle.
[Nooooooo!]
Squelch!
A horrific sound shook the very air.
The castle walls of the Grand Duke's fortress, forged of reinforced alloy—the black arrow crumpled straight through them and pierced deep into the Fourth's core.
The black storm the Fourth had been sustaining collapsed, and the undead prowling the surroundings lost their control, reverting to ordinary corpses.
"Th-the Fourth is—!"
"It's dead!"
WAAAAAAAH!
A thunderous cheer swept over Bilkenos.
"Long live the Grand Duke!"
"Long live Ursula!"
Everyone was celebrating.
Warriors of the North were running toward the fallen Camibarez, worry written across their faces.
"...Thank goodness."
Camibarez looked up at the sky through blurring eyes.
"Hang in there, Simon."
Hooooooong!
Dust and dirt swirled up around her. Her long hair whipping in the wind, the Grand Duke let the hand gripping the Gale Bow fall to her side, drained.
"A direct hit."
Exhaustion had taken everything from her, but she tilted her head back and held on.
The vicious blizzard was finally dying down, and a pale sleet was beginning to fall.
"No more variables left. It's all in your hands now, Simon."
Simon and Pier were descending into the depths of the newly opened Abyss.
Yet in this Abyss, attacks from the undead were rare. Simon tilted his head with a doubtful expression.
"There's barely any undead here. Could this one be a dud too?"
[Kheheh! If you ask me, the odds of it being the real prize have only gone up.]
Nothing had killed them off in advance, yet not a single undead had attacked during the entire descent. The few they did glimpse stood frozen in place as if malfunctioning.
As if the North God itself were inviting them down.
Simon willingly descended.
Tap.
Soon both his feet touched the ground. Greatsword of Ruin raised, Simon walked along the blood vessels exposed across the Abyss floor.
'Found it.'
Just like in the first Abyss he'd entered, a red membrane came into view.
And beyond it, he felt a jet-black presence so chillingly sinister that nothing he had ever sensed before could compare.
Simon's tense throat bobbed. He peeled back the red membrane and stepped forward—
'!'
—and froze at the sight spread out before him.
Thump— thump— thump— thump—
Countless organic tissues were pulsating and writhing like living hearts. Blood vessels grown throughout the chamber carried blood, jet-black energy, and nutrients into the biological organs in an endless stream, and from there they branched out across the entire Abyss.
It looked as though the ruined old Abyss he'd once visited with the Grand Duke had been restored perfectly—except that had been a broken-down factory, while this one was up and running.
And at the center of this biological facility stood a throne blanketed in horrifying masses of blood vessels. Something was seated upon it.
'Don't tell me that's...!'
At first he took it for a human. He was wrong.
A gaunt, massive frame wrapped in a white exoskeleton of bone that hugged its body like armor. At the center of its chest was something like a monster's eye, ringed by an intricate web of blood vessels.
Its head, too, was protected by the exoskeleton. Within it, a face marked with strange, curving creases was visible—long jaws, a protruding snout.
It looked like something from another world entirely.
'That's the North God?'
He could feel it—a jet-black presence so close to a 'source' that it dwarfed everything he'd sensed from the various Abysses and the North God's undead until now.
But no matter how he looked, its appearance didn't quite match the North God the successive Grand Dukes had described.
[So you've come.]
The moment it spotted Simon, the creature's eyes flared open.
[Son of Lord Yona.]
The thing on the throne of blood vessels rose to its feet. Overwhelming jet-black energy flooded the chamber.
Simon's eyes narrowed dangerously.
'What did it just say? Son of Lord Yona?'
[Hard to believe, even seeing it with my own eyes.]
Pier's voice came through, sounding almost like a lament.
[I'd hoped against hope, but—impossible. How in the world are you HERE of all places!]
Simon felt an enormous wave of confusion and shock pour through from Pier's thoughts. Never before had the ever-composed Pier been shaken like this.
[The captain of the Snow Ghost unit—Gyros!]
At those words, goosebumps prickled across Simon's skin as well.
The captain of a unit?
The 'North God' that had tormented the North for over a thousand years was actually an Ancient Undead of the 7th Legion?
[It's been a long time, Pier.]
Gyros's eyes gleamed. The two undead clearly went way back.
Simon's mind spun into overdrive through the confusion.
"Hold on, Pier! Gyros is...!"
[Yes.]
Pier's voice dropped low.
[The very Ancient Undead Richard commanded to protect the North.]
More than twenty years ago—the day Richard met the young Grand Duke.
"I'm going to cripple the North God's forces right now. For the next five years, I'll leave one of my Ancient Undead behind so it won't be able to so much as twitch. But I'll only protect you for five years—that's it."
Richard had met Jean Arskalt as a child, freshly orphaned, and promised to guard the North for five years.
And the Ancient Undead entrusted with that duty had been Gyros himself.
[Why are you here of all places! Surely you fell in battle against the North God—!]
[I did die fighting. That's what the humans believe, at least.]
Jet-black energy rippled from Gyros's hand. As if answering it, the biological organs of the Abyss pulsed and throbbed.
[But it is the opposite of what you think. I cast aside Lord Yona's order to protect the North, destroyed the North God alone, and transplanted its power into myself!]
He slowly turned his body.
Attached to his back was the North God's pulsating organ, its horrific eye rolling with a wet grinding sound to fix upon them.
[Now, I am the new North God.]
POP! POP!
The biological organs pulsing throughout the chamber burst open one after another, spilling out freshly mutated undead, dripping with fluid.
The wails of the undead echoed through the chamber.
[Have you betrayed your Legion Commander, Gyros!]
Pier roared.
[Betrayed?]
In an instant, Gyros's eyes flashed savagely. A brutal cold swept down his arm, and in the blink of an eye it took the form of a greatsword over seven meters long.
[It was Lord Yona who betrayed first!]
Gyros moved.
'He's fast!'
Simon gasped and swung his greatsword.
CLAAAANG!
With a thunderous crash, Simon's body was thrown backward. A numb, tingling sensation shot up to his fingertips, his pupils shaking. One single exchange of blows was all it took to know.
'This bastard—he's insanely strong!'
Hadn't they said the North God possessed no combat ability whatsoever?
What an absurd lie.
CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANK!
He was incomparably stronger than the Three Brothers, supposedly the entirety of the North God's combat power.
Simon staggered with a strangled grunt. The Greatsword of Ruin had frozen solid with frost.
[Be careful, boy! If you touch the cold Gyros emits directly, you're in danger!]
He was right. Not only did the greatsword grow heavier in his grip, but the transfer rate of his jet-black energy plummeted. Simon clenched his teeth and wrenched his hands tight around the hilt.
'Please! Karl!'
Sssssshhhhh!
The greatsword flooded with a murky green as venom welled up and sheathed the blade, dripping in droplets. At the same time, it lengthened to match Gyros's greatsword blow for blow.
"HAAAH!"
Simon and Gyros swung their greatswords at the same instant. Trajectories of green and blue collided.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Deafening detonations erupted.
Liquid and gas smashed together again and again, green and blue spraying sparks—freezing and melting each other in turn.
[You fall woefully short of my expectations.]
Gyros lightly deflected Simon's greatsword and pressed forward, striking him with his empty opposite hand.
KWAAAAAANG!
The impact hurled Simon into the wall of the Abyss. He coughed up blood with a strangled khegh!.
[Boy!]
[It makes me doubt whether you truly are his son. You cannot replace Lord Yona. That much is plain.]
Gyros let his frozen greatsword unravel into the empty air and made a show of taking his seat.
Grrrgle!
From the bare floor of the Abyss, blood vessels rose and shaped themselves into a throne. And the instant he sat down, the North God's power unfurled—hundreds of tentacles lined with eyes surged up from every corner of the chamber, writhing across walls, ceiling, and floor alike.
[If I kill the son—]
The thing on the throne raised its arm.
[—then Lord Yona will have no choice but to come here in person. Won't he?]
GWRRRRRK!
GRRRRK!
At his gesture the tentacles reached out, and the waiting undead surged forward to attack.
"You've been spouting—"
BOOM!
Simon slammed his foot viciously into the ground and pivoted his hips.
"—this nonsense long enough!"
SHAAAAAAAAC!
He swung the greatsword he'd drawn back with all his strength. A silver blade of light carved through the tentacles and undead alike in a single sweeping arc—and Gyros, still seated, simply raised one arm. The floor rose up like a wall and absorbed the blow.
"Explain it properly! Why is my father a traitor? What do you mean, you'll kill me to drag my father here to the North!"
Gripping his greatsword afresh, Simon thrust a finger straight at Gyros.
"Is it all just revenge against my father?"
Gyros rested his elbows on the throne, folded his fingers, and propped up his chin.
[And why would I owe you an answer?]
"You do."
Simon said, his voice cold.
"I am Simon Polentia, son of Richard Polentia. And I am also the current 7th Legion Commander. If you were once my father's—"
Simon's eyes flashed.
"—then you belong to me."
[HAHAHAHAHAHA!]
Gyros rocked with laughter.
[All you inherited of his is that blood of his, and yet how grandiosely you swagger! And a mongrel tainted with the most, most displeasing blood besides!]
"That wasn't a figure of speech."
Simon growled low.
"If you're my father's legacy, then I'll take you. And in the same measure, I'll bear my father's sins as my own."
[Where does a whelp of a son get off! You couldn't replace so much as a speck of Lord Yona's dust!]
As Gyros raised his arm again, the North God's power began to unfurl.
[The only thing I want is Lord Yona himself!]
SHAAAAC!
SHAAAC!
Countless tentacles rose up, and undead emerged all around them.
[When an Ancient Undead's mind is warped, dialogue is fundamentally meaningless. Boy!]
Pier's voice rang out.
'That's exactly why a Legion Commander has to be the one to handle an Ancient Undead like this. So I will.'
[Kheheh! From the look of it, Gyros claims to BE the North God, but my read is that he's little more than a puppet being controlled by it.]
'Right.'
Simon drew back the Greatsword of Ruin.
Two objectives.
'I'm taking Gyros back, and I'm liberating the North. Both.'
He had declared it boldly—but even Simon was fast approaching his limits.
The journey here had drained an immense amount of jet-black energy and stamina. He hadn't slept properly, and the endless camping in the brutal cold had worn his fatigue down to the bone.
And Gyros, now armed with the North God's power besides, was more than Simon alone could handle.
So he acknowledged it.
Vwooom!
Simon opened a subspace.
The weapon he had saved for the very last of the very end.
FWUMP!
Gyros's expression twisted into something vicious.
Greatsword of Ruin in his right hand, the golden flag tilted in his left, Simon lowered his stance.
"We're out of time. Let's settle this here and now, Gyros."