The Day the Heavens Cleave Open
The clouds in the sky split in two, leaving faint traces behind. A straight line of black sliced forward, decomposing everything in its path.
Rowen wasn't an idiot. Even recalling the golem's power from his past life, he'd cranked his output to maximum. Light on his feet, yet cautious. Even if the thing demonized, he'd shatter it to pieces.
Boom! A circular shockwave rippled between the parted clouds. The massive body crashed to the ground.
He frowned. The previous attack had caused a slight delay. He could block the golem's strikes, but he couldn't expect the same output as before.
But it didn't matter. According to the scouts' reports, only two golems remained. And above all, since Muron's death, there'd been no mana resupply. So how much manpower must they have burned through just to move this thing?
Either way, the tide had turned in his favor.
Whoooong! The golem locked onto its target, its red eyes flashing. Its tough hide peeled away as a dark crimson overtook it. Sharp, blade-like horns sprouted from its head, evoking the image of a demon.
Rowen clicked his tongue in disgust at the sight.
A massive hand reached for Rowen as he dashed across the snowfield. He blocked it effortlessly with his left hand. His enhanced strength was beloved by mana. He could hold it.
Arahan unleashed consecutive sword beams from her Rosbriel, then swung her chain-flail, tracing golden arcs. Boom boom boom boom! Flashes of light connected into tails, like shooting stars. Countless meteors formed a meteor shower.
Cracks spiderwebbed through their midst, and the golem's demonic eyes twisted in rage.
Ziiing! The light intensified as the colossal demon drew mana to its limit.
"...!"
It hammered with its fists—the same punches that had pierced Kadan's black energy in the past.
"Fast!"
The enormous fist tore through Arahan's meteor shower. Rowen twisted his waist, barely dodging, then spun away. Even after evading, a fist hurtled toward his face, blocked by an Ice Shield. Rippling black energy radiated light.
Arahan wove chains to bind the fist's movement.
One second. In that brief window, Rowen sprinted up the chains and scaled the golem's body.
High in the air. The battlefield sprawled below.
"No sign of the enemy commander."
"Commanding from Snowfall, as expected?"
"From what I overheard them muttering, it might be 'telepathy.'"
"I'll take this one. Arahan, you handle the main force."
"...Understood."
"Got it."
Arahan left the chains behind and leaped from the golem's shoulder. Thanks to her, he'd surveyed the field unscathed.
The golem's massive eyes fixed squarely on him.
Blue flames clung to his Ice Blade. Cold fire blazed hotter than any other.
Black energy wreathed in haze, bolstering the mana. A curving black wave poured out, corroding the golem's flesh.
The golem panicked, summoning red energy—but
"Weird, huh?"
No red light emerged. A dud. The all-devouring black aura had eroded even its core.
Did it sense its mana circuits falling under Rowen's control?
A sinister smile curled his lips as the black wave rippled with frosty chill.
"Your turn now."
A massive crescent slash. Potent energy cleaved the sky once more. The wind pressure alone parted the clouds, and the golem—
Thud!
Split in half, crumbling into black energy.
He marveled at the sight, tongue against his teeth. Still not satisfying. In his past life, even a casual swing would've collapsed the ground. This meant not all his power had returned.
It took a bit longer to annihilate the golem than before, but he could annihilate it. That was a relief.
Thud.
Rowen thrust his fist forward. Crack, craaaack. Cracks spiderwebbed across the third golem's fist.
Black energy in the form of a young lion clung to his hand. His frost-armor fluttered with snow-white wolf fur.
Like a brave dwarf clashing with a giant. Bathed in sunlight, their collision—and the shadows they cast—drew awed gasps.
This one transformed into a demon too. Magitech was the demons' spawn. Trash crafted by the fools of Arkanthia who'd fallen to them.
Rowen blocked the fist in an instant, twisted his body to its limit, and completed a beautiful slash. The magic blade unleashed power rivaling the holy sword.
Anyone watching would call it myth incarnate.
Because—
Shwick! The golem's body shattered into fragments.
Rowen spotted the rune fragments embedded within. He thrust an Ice Lance hard into them.
A black dot formed where it pierced the air. Over time, it warped into varied black holes.
Everything was sucked in. Not a trace of the golem remained; it was utterly decomposed.
He flicked the spear back to ready. An Ice Shield formed in his left hand. His right-hand Ice Lance spiraled with black energy.
Innumerable weapons arrayed around him, like soldiers awaiting orders. All brimming with fighting spirit.
"For Valenos! For Winterer! For the North!"
Rowen's shout rallied the troops toward victory.
The king's cry empowered his vassals.
"For the North!"
"For the North!"
"For the North!"
The battlefield surged with momentum.
Eastern continent, Kalia Rune. Homes of wood filled the land, teeming with people. Many chanted incantations for blessings, respecting one another. They shed greed for peace—the will of their god, not the fate deity Lua, but another.
Into this serene place blew a great storm.
"...The North and South are at war?"
"...What? Now?"
"What's this about the Valenos bastard claiming to be king?"
"...A bastard child? The prestige of that famed house has fallen."
"Doesn't matter to me. As long as Kalia Rune stays safe."
"True enough."
Trembling at the inexplicable rumors. Distant continents, reachable only by sea—yet Arkanthia wielded terrifying flying ships. People feared this advanced-tech continent they'd never imagined.
"The North can't win."
"Rumors say the Northern King is dead."
"...Nah, no way. Kadan?"
"If not, why would his bastard be rampaging like this? Arkanthia must've done something."
"You're from Winterer, right? That's why you immigrated south back then?"
"...Yeah."
"Heh. Good call coming east. Life's the priority. Right?"
"Obviously."
Silken-robed folk conversed. Sudden news rocked the capital, Sabha, like thunder.
A gray-haired man watched from a tiled roof. No Kalia Rune native, by the look of him. Striking foreign features screamed nobility. The pure-white sword at his waist gleamed; he furrowed his brow.
Lucius Dragnik. Once overseer of the four continents, the boy emperor. Survivor of the imperial house, stripped of the Pentagon by prophets.
"...Rowen did it after all."
He had to go help. For Kadan's dying wish, at least.
"But..."
To get there meant passing Albrin Forest and Snowfall. No doubt he'd sparked this war to reclaim Snowfall. They'd not spent long together, but Lucius knew that much. Rowen shared his traits.
Not to brag, but he was sharp, good at reading situations and people. Above all, they shared the grief of losing father and home.
"I want to help deep down."
But would it harm the three who'd trusted and followed him? Two years ago, upon arriving in Kalia Rune, they'd joined Biden and started anew.
"With that old butler around, it'll be fine."
Valenos family head butler, Kadan's right hand—nothing could go wrong with him there.
Cain wasn't a worry. Harsh as it sounded, the kid had shown no discipline toward him so far.
What those bastards planted... 'Damn it.'
Not worrying was a lie. The demonic seed grew within him. Since when? Kalia Rune's exorcists suppressed it with all they had, but no signs of recovery.
Karin... He still had much to teach her. She'd begged for sword lessons; he'd become her master. Not Rowen's level, but she had real talent.
Miyabi above all... He truly felt sorry for her. Just living with them felt sinful. If he'd been stronger, he could've saved Kadan Valenos.
Grind. Teeth ground; lips bled.
But regrets changed nothing. Lucius had to decide.
Fight beside him against the enemy? Or guard his family?
He pondered. Reflected. Kadan's plea echoed eternally.
"Take care of the children."
The dream-vision of Kadan's sad smile. His comrade's, family's, friend's final form.
"Haha. Not like me at all."
Arahan was with Rowen. But could she alone bear his loneliness? Hold his grief?
Of course, he couldn't. No loyalty or bond to embrace his heart. It was guilt for failing Kadan's son.
Rowen didn't welcome him warmly, either.
But.
"I have to go."
No matter how things unfolded. If he could help, at least.
If he aided in reclaiming Kadan's homeland. Wouldn't that be some atonement?
Weakness was sin. He'd striven to overcome it. Two years now. Hiding his identity, shedding his name, training with exorcists.
Spirits' power dwelled in him. He'd glimpsed the world's truths and flows.
In deep temples, traces of the great warrior Uba Kaliarun. He'd chased that tail desperately. To be of some use. To protect his family. To fulfill his new mission.
Rowen Valenos, King of the North. Self-proclaimed Northern King, defying fate itself. Born bastard, he'd seized the impossible throne with his own hands. Led the people.
Kadan's words resurfaced.
"I am not the King of the North."
Words aside, he was the Northern King. Many followed; he won wars. Strong before family, he'd fought magitech to the end as a father.
His bastard son remained alone in the homeland, grinding teeth in vengeful dreams. The young lion bared hidden fangs, ascending the throne in his sire's wake.
The new king's era drew acclaim, support, followers.
Just as he'd witnessed.
Rowen had something. That's why he admired him.
He didn't know North's exact situation. Kael's investigation? Golem presence? What were these rumored prophets?
But one thing was certain.
"Rowen is a king."
More suited to the throne than him, at least.
"The Northern King's will endures."
Unquenchable embers ignite. Lucius quietly raised his pure-white sword.
His body grew feather-light. Here, Kalia Rune's capital and holy city, Sabha. He turned toward the distant icy continent.
His foot touched the water lightly. Like a butterfly gliding through the sky.
Lucius's steps softly parted the waves.
One step. Two. Three. Bouncing lightly, water sprayed.
He drew Rosmerta's mana to its peak. Holy power surged from deep within. Dense mana meshed with affinity, forming light.
Rosmerta was a holy relic. Thus, it accepted holy power.
"May the immortals and dragon king protect us from this perilous sea."
⟨ Sacred Incantation ⟩
Toes together, he walked the waves. Slowly... breathing steady, reviewing.
Approaching waves shattered before reaching him. Surging holy power shielded him.
"Om agaro dharagara misaye namo sabaha...!"
Deep mantra. Dragon king and immortals' energies dwelled within.
The sea would not torment him; it would embrace him lovingly.
Lucius bore imperial blood. Beloved by mana from birth, adored by divine beings—natural.
One step. Two. Three. His quickening steps sent waves racing past, circular ripples trailing as he dashed mid-sea.
He thought of Rowen battling far away.
"Sitting idle isn't me. Rowen, you might not welcome me, but..."
At least he... the successor to Kadan...
"Will go to aid the King of the North."