Sanctuary of Memory (1)
Starlight embroidered across the heavens fell.
The fallen starlight soaked into the blood-drenched earth and spread.
Wind howled. Flames roared skyward. Lightning cracked and leapt. Water lanced through the air. The ground itself burst apart.
With every eruption, dozens—sometimes hundreds—of monsters crumpled and tumbled down the hillside.
“Haa… numbers like this… ghk… ptoo… where the hell did they even come from?”
Ser dragged in ragged breaths and shot Bishur a glare sharp enough to cut.
“What kind of management lets… kuh… hhh… things like that mix into the city… hah… I’m asking you.”
Bishur had no answer to give.
Every scrap of her focus was locked on carving through the monsters that charged up the hill, scrambling over mountains of corpses. The wet, meaty sounds of flesh parting served as her only reply.
Ser clicked her tongue at the silence and swept her gaze across the battlefield.
From the crest of the hill, the scene below was indistinguishable from hell.
Beneath a pitch-black sky, a river of blood flowed, and upon its surface floated shredded scraps of flesh—some no larger than a finger joint, others the size of a human head. Each scrap writhed and twisted, seeking its missing pieces as it drifted along the crimson current.
Where the flow stilled—
Those things are no longer human…
—large and small fragments of meat gathered and knitted themselves into new human shapes.
Forms that looked as though a child had assembled them from spare parts.
A human with a foot growing from its shoulder and arms sprouting from its pelvis.
A human with buttocks where a head should be.
A human whose fingers had been replaced by jagged branches.
Things that simply slapped limbs together and crawled forward with stubborn, mindless determination.
The ones clawing their way up the hill were no different.
Empty eye sockets. Lungs twitching inside gaping maws. Long coils of intestine spilling from navels.
And it was not only the sight.
The stench and the touch were equally revolting.
The reek of rotting corpses was so foul that the ordinary smell of death would have seemed fragrant by comparison. Skin that split open the moment a hand touched it, as if eager to swallow the offender whole.
“Look at that one. How many times have I told you to smash the core embedded in the center?”
Ser’s voice cracked like a whip. An ice spike crystallized at her fingertip and shot straight into a monster’s core.
“Hhk… hah… ghk— puh… haa…”
“All you have to do is poke that thing with your skinny little sword. Is that so difficult?”
Flames, wind, lightning, earth, darkness, and light erupted in succession, whipping across the battlefield in a furious storm.
“Hhk… keh, kehhk… grrk… grrrraaaah—!”
Behind Ser, a light spirit that had been circling in the air slipped into the gaping hole in Bishur’s abdomen.
At once, bloody foam bubbled from Bishur’s tightly clenched lips, and her eyes rolled back as though she might faint on the spot.
Ser wrapped an arm around the woman’s waist and shook her front to back.
“Ah-ah, far too early for a nap. The sun is still hanging high in the sky. Get up and fight.”
Moments later, luminous particles of light bloomed like soft clouds, knitting Bishur’s wounds closed.
“Ugh… kuh… hhk… the sun… the sun has been up for fifty hours… hhh…”
“Why are you crying?”
“…I miss gentle healing.”
Bishur pulled free of Ser’s embrace, wiped the filth from her face, and bowed her head.
“Haa… still, thank you. Because of you, Lady Ser, I can keep fighting.”
She scooped her discarded rapier from the ground and lifted her eyes to the sky.
“Truly… the sun is hanging at its zenith.”
Just as she said, a black sun floated proudly at the apex of the heavens, radiating a dark, oppressive light.
“They no longer even bother to hide it… perhaps every preparation is already complete…”
“Stop spouting nonsense and go kill at least one more of them. Save the sentimental reflections for after the war is over.”
“Ahem…”
Yet even as she spoke, Ser’s mind was elsewhere.
Far in the distance, a crimson barrier. And alone within it—Noah.
“Wiping them all out is impossible, so we must buy as much time as we can.”
Retreat did not seem to be an option either.
Somehow, they had to hold the Sanctuary of Memory until those two arrived.
Bishur’s expression hardened with resolve. She nodded once—and vanished. A heartbeat later came the wet sound of hide splitting open.
Pwahk— A slender rapier charged with crimson mana carved through the sea of monsters, severing limbs left and right.
Ser’s finishing blows followed in perfect rhythm.
Time passed until dried blood crusted the rapier’s edge.
Then things appeared that radiated an overwhelming presence thick enough to choke the breath from one’s lungs.
Masters.
Not failed experiments. Not completed Masters.
True Masters.
The instant Bishur confirmed them, she sprinted to Ser’s side.
“Haa… hah, haa… Lady Ser!”
“Yes.”
“The Masters—”
“Lady Bishur, take the remaining forces and withdraw.”
Ser answered as though she had known all along, jerking her chin toward the place where Cartia’s troops were gathered.
“There is nothing left for them but a dog’s death. Do not hesitate—go.”
“But…”
“You may be different, but those humans are not. So get out of here.”
Ser turned her back and began gathering every spirit scattered across the battlefield into one place, then strode toward the Masters.
“If you could draw the monsters’ attention on your way out, I would be grateful. Their stench is getting in the way.”
Bishur chewed her lip as she watched Ser’s retreating figure.
Paak—!
She smashed her own fist into her face, then chased after Ser while pulling out a communication crystal.
“This is Bishur. Masters have appeared. The third Master, Roy. The fifth Master, Karok. Therefore—”
She swallowed hard and spoke in a clear, ringing voice.
“Let us die. All of us together.”
“…What are you doing?”
“Issuing orders.”
Hearing the distant roar of answering voices, Bishur smiled in satisfaction and tucked the crystal away.
“No objections, it seems.”
“If you wish to die, I can kill you right now.”
“I must decline. I desire an honorable death.”
Bishur chuckled under her breath and looked toward the distant crimson barrier.
“And I still have apologies to make.”
“I despise that kind of cheap melodrama.”
“Oh, is that so? So do I. We understand each other perfectly.”
Chal-geu-rak— The rapier, its edge thoroughly dulled and half its guard missing, was raised with defiant courage.
“I should have brought better gear. I saved it and now it’s garbage.”
“With a stick like that, you will never block their attacks.”
“A rapier is not meant for blocking. It is for dodging and redirecting.”
Ser looked Bishur up and down with an expression of pure disbelief.
Covered head to toe in wounds, yet still talking about dodging and redirecting.
“Do as you please.”
Ser snorted and immediately resumed walking, redistributing the spirits she had gathered moments before.
Watching those spirits fly toward the concentrations of Cartia’s forces, Bishur bowed her head.
“…Thank you.”
“Tell them to hurry. Unless they want a dog’s death.”
Confirming that Bishur had hastily pulled out the crystal again, Ser bit down on her own finger.
The blood that welled up never reached the ground; it rose into the air and drew a thin red line.
You intend to save them?
I figured they might make decent meat shields.
Will you be all right?
If it were only two Masters I would try, but there are so many of those completed bastards that I honestly don’t know.
Ser clicked her tongue and reached toward the crimson line floating in the air.
The price—
Ah, I’ll settle that with your little finger. After ten years of hellish work, I consider this a bargain.
At once the red line transformed into a radiant silver-white, blazing with dazzling light.
…You dog of a woman.
And when did you stop calling me your child?
Ser smirked and turned to Bishur.
“Their goal is to destroy the Sanctuary of Memory.”
“I am… aware!”
Bishur carved through the monsters swarming from every direction, wiped the blood from her lips, and nodded.
“Therefore our highest priority must also be the defense of the Sanctuary of Memory.”
“Yes.”
“Two Masters. Seventy-nine completed Masters.”
And the monsters—
Roughly one hundred thousand.
“Even if you die, die only after Lady Rubia and Lady Noah arrive.”
With those final words, the brilliantly shining silver-white line—
Kugung—!
—became a colossal gate linking this world to the Spirit Realm, and began summoning every spirit that existed within it.
“If you manage that, I will write your name into the history books left for future generations.”
The moment Ser’s voice faded, thousands of failed experiments closed the distance in an instant and appeared before her eyes.
Ser did not flinch. With an elegant sweep of her hand she stirred the air.
Following that motion, dozens of high-ranking spirits swallowed the creatures whole.
Bishur, too, was captivated by the overwhelming spectacle; as if entranced, she hurled herself into the sea of experimental subjects.
The catastrophic power pouring from that slender woman’s body became a torch for every ally, illuminating the dark path ahead.
Once more the fervent battle cries rose.
The wet sounds of death.
The sounds of monsters.
And the sounds of Masters.
They are coming.
I know.
Ser called a portion of the spirits raging across the battlefield back to her side. At the same time, from the enormous gate still open behind her, the highest-ranking spirits stepped forth.
Two of the three.
Ablon and Rin.
Karma has not fully recovered.
Enough to face the completed ones, yet woefully insufficient against true Masters.
Even so, Ser did not hesitate. She met them head-on.
Formless energy blossomed from Rin’s hands, soaring into the sky and weaving a vast meteor shower.
Standing before her, Ablon overturned the earth itself, severing the enemy’s path and absorbing every attack.
Not to be outdone, the high- and mid-ranking spirits streaked through the air, clearing away the lesser trash.
Mid-tier spirits shielded Ser.
The lesser spirits and mindless spirit bodies scoured the field for Cartia’s remaining forces, offering support without hesitation.
A short while later—
The Masters moved the moment they saw the meteor shower plummeting with a roar that seemed ready to shatter the heavens.
Karok, easily over two meters tall, seized his massive greatsword and kicked off the ground while staring upward.
Seogeok— A single stroke cleaved dozens of meteors.
Roy raised his staff toward the empty air; frigid flames erupted from his body and erased every remaining fragment.
“Damn it, are those things even human?”
You do not look particularly human yourself.
“Tsk.”
Leaving Rin to prepare the next volley, Ser pressed her palm against Ablon’s back.
At the same instant, catastrophic power surged from the Masters’ bodies.
Manifestation of the mindscape.
The Black Sun began to radiate an even darker light. The thick scent of blood grew denser, clinging to everything.
A battlefield already drowning in despair sank into deeper despair. The fervent battle cries faded; the presence of the monsters swelled.
Karok’s enormous greatsword slid into its scabbard.
Roy’s staff began to chew and swallow his own arm with wet, crunching sounds, drinking the blood that soaked the earth.
Their target: the Sanctuary of Memory.
Gather every spirit and defend? Impossible to stop them.
Decipher that magic formula right now and shatter its core?
Then who would block Karok’s attack?
Think.
Find a way—even a fraction of a second faster.
To stop an attack that defies the laws of the world, I too must step outside those laws.
A method—to break—this situation—now.
Amid the chaotic storm of thoughts, a metallic click rang out, announcing calamity.
Tadak— In the blink of an eye a figure shot forward: dull golden hair and violet eyes blazing with murderous intent.
Hermila.
She appeared without the slightest warning.
Jjeoeong—! She kicked Karok’s arm aside.
Kwajik— She drove her fist into Roy’s face, twisting the corner of her mouth into a crooked smile.
“Honestly, you magic-users are hopeless for this exact reason.”