Chapter 331: In the Name of Sloth— (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 331: In the Name of Sloth— (4)
■■■■■■■■■■—!!!
A monstrous roar that transformed terror into awe reverberated through the air as mounds of flesh, as massive as great mountains, were pulverized.
───────—!!!
The monstrosity raised its remaining hand, desperate to strike Basiliora. Twisted bones sprouted from its giant palm, forming grotesque awls that swung down toward Basiliora’s back—
Crack!
The hand was stopped with pathetic ease by black thorns erupting from Basiliora’s spine.
Creeeeeak—!
In an instant, the limb was completely crushed.
■■■■■■—!!
The entity let out a scream that threatened everyone—yet simultaneously breathed hope into them—as it laid its body down upon the Black Territory.
Black threads snaking out from the dark ground incessantly pulled at the scattered lumps of flesh, attempting to reconstruct its form.
Squelch—grind—!
Once again, a mountain of meat began to take shape.
‘It’s started.’
Alon observed the events on the ground from above. Realizing his attack had successfully affected the Sin of Sloth, he let out a soft sigh of relief.
In the original game, the Sin of Sloth was divided into four phases.
In Phase 1, it would continuously expand its Black Territory without taking damage, forcing anyone caught within the "territory" to slaughter one another. If the situation wasn't handled quickly at this stage, the Sin of Sloth became unstoppable.
Based on the world map of Psychedelia, if the Black Territory expanded by more than 30 tiles, it was an automatic Game Over, no questions asked. This was because there was no magic in the game with a range exceeding 31 tiles. In fact, the longest-range spells only reached 20 tiles. There was effectively no way to stop it.
The reason the Game Over threshold was set at 31 tiles despite these limitations was due to divine power. Though the calculations were complex, if one was shrouded in Sironia’s divine power within the game, they could ignore the territory's influence even after stepping onto the black soil.
Of course, even that only worked up to 20 of those 31 tiles. Any further, and debuffs would begin to stack one by one until the player eventually suffered the same fate as everyone else.
That was how it was supposed to go.
‘...I should thank Heinkel.’
If not for her, the world might have ended before he could even consider a proper way to stop the Sin. However, it was too early to relax. They had only just cleared Phase 1.
“....”
Alon looked down. More lumps of flesh were manifesting around Basiliora.
‘Six—no, seven.’
The number of flesh lumps increased according to the number of tiles the Black Territory covered. At the 30-tile mark, four would have been summoned.
‘...As expected, the territory is much larger now than anything possible in the game.’
He reached this conclusion after seeing the number of flesh lumps, but he still didn't feel a great sense of crisis.
On the ground, the seven massive entities of flesh charged at Basiliora simultaneously. The masses were so enormous their scale could be felt even from the sky as they surrounded Basiliora in an instant.
“This is insane—”
“We have to do something, Selaim! This isn't what we heard during the briefing! There are seven of them!”
Cursing and confusion broke out among the soldiers. Parkline’s voice rose in a desperate shout. It was only natural; each individual mass was large enough to flatten Basiliora by its weight alone.
“Tsk—”
Selaim clicked his tongue and began gathering mana to deploy his magic, seeing no other choice.
“—!”
Just as the black masses completely enveloped Basiliora and their hands, bristling with grotesque bone protrusions, reached toward the sky to strike—
Alon calmly formed a seal, as if he had been waiting for this exact moment.
And then.
“Shadow Tree.”
The soldiers—and Selaim and Parkline—witnessed it.
Sprouting from every inch of Basiliora’s body—
Trees of ink-black wood.
The trees bloomed without a sound, shredding the flesh masses that had imprisoned Basiliora. Covered in dark red blood and green ichor, the trees swallowed the Black Territory and the sky alike. Furthermore, they soared upward, dangling the black masses like heavy, bloated fruit.
“A dra...gon?”
One soldier muttered as he stared at the black trees spread out like wings. Everyone else stood speechless, staring blankly at Basiliora’s form.
It was overwhelming. The countless trees attached to the massive body made Basiliora look even more gargantuan. A natural sense of dread—or perhaps ecstasy—that any living creature would feel seeped into everyone’s hearts.
■■■■■■■■■■■■■■—!!!!
Finally, accompanied by the roar of Receiver Basiliora, the dismantled lumps of flesh plummeted from the sky toward the ground. Unlike when they were formed by devouring everyone’s fear, the flesh fell pathetically, shattering upon impact. Limbs were torn away, and the bizarrely sprouted bones snapped helplessly.
And.
‘With this, Phase 2 is over.’
Having confirmed the situation on the ground, Alon looked toward Phase 3, which was about to begin—
‘No, it’s already started.’
—He looked toward the Phase 3 that had begun ahead of schedule.
Through his mana-enhanced vision, he saw figures radiating a dangerous aura approaching the royal castle of Ashtalon. Alon recognized them instantly.
‘Three of the Seven Strongest. Dragon Strike Spear, Thousand Year Ice, and Cliff Sword.’
Phase 3 of the ‘Sin of Sloth.’
It turned those who had lost their lives within the Black Territory—provided they possessed a certain level of power—into its minions. To be more precise, it was closer to the Sin "controlling" them, a stage that had caused much debate among players.
The individuals controlled by the Sin were usually determined at random. If that random encounter happened to pick those in the "Strongest" category or the Master Knights, the situation became incredibly complicated. This was because the controlled puppets became at least 50%, and at most 100%, stronger than their original selves.
And as if to prove that fact.
The three powerhouses approaching from the distance were so strong that their dark aura felt visible to the naked eye. Thousand Year Ice held a massive weapon, freezing everything in his vicinity. Beside him, Dragon Strike Spear held a spear that emitted a lethal pressure befitting his name.
And finally, Cliff Sword—
Crunch—K-k-k-k-k!
He approached slowly, carving through the surrounding terrain as if it were nothing. It was a meaningless action, yet he radiated enough overwhelming mana to justify such arrogance.
Alon watched the scene for a moment.
“They’re coming, as expected.”
He also spotted the things beginning to swarm around the three powerhouses. Beings that could hardly even be called the deceased followed behind the three. Soldiers, knights, monsters. Things that had once been alive, things that still retained some semblance of their forms.
They were all closing in on Alon, who was preparing another spell to fire at the Sin of Sloth.
Suddenly.
Dragon Strike Spear raised his massive spear high.
BOOM—!!!
Mana exploded violently. Taking a throwing stance as if he didn't care what happened to his own body, a suffocating amount of mana began to gather in Dragon Strike Spear’s hand.
His target was undoubtedly Alon.
That wasn't all. Thousand Year Ice and Cliff Sword, who had been walking calmly while radiating mana, began to freeze the very air to create a staircase, intending to move toward the Treasure Vault Alon was riding.
The powerhouses, strengthened by the Sin’s power...
Those who still retained even a shred of their former selves...
They all lunged forward at once to eliminate Alon.
With a sound like twisting steel, Dragon Strike Spear, his body contorted to the limit, entered Alon’s field of vision. Even without enhancing his sight, Alon could clearly see the spear swirling with black mana.
Distance seemed to mean nothing to that spear. One didn't need to think twice to know that the moment it left his hand, the attack would reach the Treasure Vault in an instant.
However, Alon did not lose his composure.
Because even this had been entirely expected.
────────────!!!!!
The spear in Dragon Strike Spear’s hand tore through the air with a bone-chilling screech. It sliced through the atmosphere and the sound itself, hurtling upward as if to shoot a god out of the sky.
At the moment everyone’s eyes were fixed on the spear, which seemed to accelerate multiple times as it pierced through the shrill wind—
Bang—!
A bolt of golden lightning surged into the spear aimed at the Treasure Vault.
There.
Seolrang, bathed in golden light.
Grin—!
With a chilling smile, she redirected the spear that had been gliding toward the Treasure Vault, sending it hurtling back toward Dragon Strike Spear.
F-f-f-f-f-shhh—!!!!
The spear slammed into Dragon Strike Spear, and the ground exploded as if struck by a missile.
Amidst the dust, Thousand Year Ice, who had been creating the aerial staircase just moments ago, shot up into the sky toward Seolrang—
Clang—!
Similarly, Thousand Year Ice’s weapon failed to reach Seolrang.
“It’s been a while.”
Elivan, wearing a refreshing smile, blocked Thousand Year Ice’s attack with ease. Thousand Year Ice, whose expression remained unreadable, immediately tried to kick the obstacle in front of him—
BOOM—!
As if he had foreseen the move, Elivan swung his sword downward, sending Thousand Year Ice plummeting back to the ground.
In that instant.
The stealth user, Cliff Sword, who had been in a drawing stance within the dust cloud, moved as if he had been waiting for this—
[-]
But he couldn't draw his sword.
The stealth user stared at the massive sword suddenly embedded in the spot where he had just been standing, then looked back up at the sky.
In the blue expanse where only a single ship had floated moments ago, along a mana circuit that looked like a long diagram—
Snap! Crackle!
Rifts were forming.
Countless rifts, enough to devour the entire blue sky.
Soon, weapons began to emerge simultaneously from those rifts that dominated the heavens, followed by—
“How foolish.”
A voice fell from above.
“To think that mere husks like you...”
Backlit by the dense array of weapons within the rifts,
“...could ever reach my brother.”
It was the voice of Ladan, looking down haughtily at the ground.