The Path of the Fallen
A path was forming in my wake where the falling things landed. Angel corpses and demon corpses overlapped in a single line. Shards of light mixed with blood, flesh scraps, and armor fragments, creating a filthy, glittering trail of slaughter. I stood at the very front of that path, still not stopping.
My dagger sliced through light, scraped away barriers, and carved through bone and flesh in sequence. Just moments ago, it had been a battle to see how long I could hold out. Now, it was just a matter of seeing how far I could cut.
At first, I'd laid down a light layer of Reinforcement. Thin power applied only to my wrists and ankles, waist and shoulder joints, to test how far my body could endure. Even that was enough to sever a lower angel's neck in one stroke. The dagger's glancing angle severed the cervical vertebrae, trachea, and blood vessels together. The head rolled away, spraying light and blood, while the torso bounced sideways from my toe.
A mid-tier angel's shield and forearm were 'barely' split by that light layer. First, the outer sanctuary barrier caught it once, then the flowing water veil over the armor resisted once more, and finally, the protection clinging to the flesh followed belatedly. All three layers were delaying death.
An upper angel's spear was even more blatant. Water extended from the tip like a blade, thinly slicing the air itself. I twisted half a step to deflect the tip. In its passing graze, only a thin layer of armor peeled away. Before the shaft could strike the ground, I plunged inside. I knocked the hand away with an upward elbow strike, then thrust the dagger under the same arm. From under the jaw to the back of the head, in one stroke. The head and body toppled in different directions.
'Lower, mid, upper.'
'Even tougher than before, they all end up severed the same way.'
Then.
There was no need to match them precisely. No need to strip away 'every' barrier. I didn't smash head-on. I targeted only the weak points. The thinning edge of the sanctuary outer barrier. The joints where the water veil flowed thin. The moment the protection tilted 'forward', when the side momentarily lightened. Only those spots. With minimal force. In one stroke.
I drew in a deep breath. My heart thumped hard once inside my chest. I ramped Reinforcement up to half. Half power evenly embedded into muscles and tendons, joints and bones. The sensation of my limbs 'lightening' felt even colder. With one twist of my body, the blood, flesh, and armor fragments floating around scattered a beat late. My movement came first; the battlefield followed belatedly.
'At this level, I can go straight to those falling bastards and take their heads myself.'
I looked up at the spot above my head where light poured down. The pillar of light still stood, and the sanctuary still tilted the battlefield toward the heavens. Into it. They kept falling.
In front of Wiangseong Fortress. In the middle of a valley slightly removed from the main gate, a massive pillar of light stood straight. The sanctuary barrier spreading from that pillar formed a semicircle, enveloping half of Wiangseong in a dome. A thin membrane of light floated overhead, and angels slid down one by one between that membrane and the pillar.
They weren't pouring down all at once. The shield bearers came down first. Round shields, water veils over armor, protection clinging to flesh. And atop that, the outer sanctuary barrier. A triple-layered structure that bought time from 'landing' onward.
Right behind them, slightly delayed, came the spear bearers. Holy chants and water authority bound to each spear tip. Shields landed first to form formation and footing, spears plunging through the gaps. A method of sequential deployment rather than mass drop.
'Not a full descent.'
'Dividing the legion, dropping in sequence.'
'Shields, spears.'
'Shields, spears.'
Before the first wave even touched ground, I was already advancing.
The brief interval as the shield wave surged from the pillar and their toes sought ground. I stood before those feet first. No chance to land. I yanked shield and arm toward me, turning the head my way in that instant.
───Slash.
The dagger severed the neck. The head flew before the feet touched soil. The body shuddered once in midair, weightless, then fell beside me.
I didn't kill them 'one by one'. I moved to break the speed of the entire landing line. When the front row fell, the ones behind got trampled and crushed. Turn their 'formation' into a 'pile of corpses' before it could form.
Step on the arm holding the shield to snap it, thrust the dagger into the gap between shoulder and neck. Rip only the thinning edge of the water veil, exploit the moment the outer sanctuary barrier split, draw a line on flesh before protection could reattach. Necks split in sequence at similar heights. Red blood sprayed, mingled with light shards falling. As those shards piled on the ground, the landing line grew slicker. The slicker it got, the easier the next row collapsed.
The spear wave began descending. Holy chants burst from spear tips. The sanctuary underfoot grew heavier for a moment. I didn't wait for the spear flying toward my heart. I severed the shaft before the tip arrived, then the wrist gripping it. A spear of light held power only while the chant flowed. Cut the arm before the chant ended, and the light scattered in an instant. Instead of piercing my chest, it exploded toward empty air beside me. I brushed past that blast with my shoulder, seeking the neck again.
Light and holy chants. Water and protection. Those directing them were the chanters above; the ones fighting on the ground were mere hands in the end. So I severed wrists and necks first. Before the descending ones could form 'formation', it became natural for 'piles of corpses' to form first.
I caught my breath briefly and glanced sideways. Balrag stood before the unbreached main gate. His massive frame half-leaning toward the gate, legs bending and extending. The ground thumped once, taking a breath. His pressure spread across the entire slope. Light beams stabbing toward the gate veered slightly off-angle. Cracks between ground and gate widening, yet Balrag held position.
Beside him was Gart. Shoulder against the gate, taking spears with arm and back first. Even as bone-rattling sounds echoed from inside his armor, Gart held his ground. The gate endured. As if saying he'd hold today's post today.
Above, on the ramparts. Red curtains heaved roughly along Wiangseong's walls. Jan was layering lines atop them. Shards bursting from the light pillar and errant descent paths clashed against the curtains and bent. Angels' intended landing spots shifted gradually toward lines my blade could reach. I could see Jan's arms trembling even from here.
Beside Jan was El. Over the demons moved inside the walls, layers of dull red light were forcibly applied. Not fully restored, but enough to stand one more time today.
"The ones still breathing first."
El mouthed the words. Curtains, recovery, gate. Hands turning today's battlefield into a 'zone that could endure'.
I marked them once with my eyes, then turned back to the front.
On the slope before Wiangseong, demons stood in lines. Mid-tier in the front rows, low-tier supporting behind. The path I'd carved first. Behind it, mid and low-tiers balanced on blood and flesh, following.
Until recently, I'd been too fast, leaving the rear empty. Now, I adjusted speed slightly. So the demon lines wouldn't break from the slaughter path I'd made.
"Front line, hold!"
A rasping voice burst from somewhere. A few light spears still found gaps. Two, three low-tiers pierced through chest or neck, collapsing. One mid-tier lost an arm. Still, noticeably fewer than before.
'Good.'
'Our casualties are decreasing bit by bit.'
'But still not low enough.'
Screams erupting behind my back were fewer than at first but unending. Meanwhile, angels collapsing ahead swelled faster and faster.
The path of slaughter gained momentum. Angel corpses piled two, three layers before me. Demon arms and legs, shattered shields and dagger hilts wedged in between. I deliberately advanced only to the front of the corpse pile, then stepped back one pace. So a few more demon lines could stand denser behind the dam-like heap.
"Up to here."
The words slipped naturally from my mouth. The point where I stood marked the end of today's first line. Up to this line was my solo section to open. Beyond was for the gate, Balrag, Gart, and the lined demons. I fixed that line firmly, then plunged forward again.
As time passed, the battlefield's ratio shifted. At first, our screams dominated. Low-tier lines severed three, four at a time. Now, severed holy chants from angels outnumbered them. Each angel fell cut the chant halfway, light sputtering out. Demons still died. But now one by one, only in gaps, not twos or threes.
Conversely, angel fall sites piled thicker. Even as I swung my dagger, I felt the flow.
'At this rate, even the heavens will sense something off.'
'Sending only shields and spears in order, despite getting shredded like this?'
The top of the light pillar trembled faintly. Not under my feet, but somewhere overhead. I glared skyward briefly.
'Gabriel.'
'Will you come down now, take command, and fight yourself? Or hesitate more?'
No answer yet. What fell from the light pillar remained only shields and spears. So until the answer came, I repeated the same task. Spot descending foes, separate neck from torso. Everything falling onto today's battlefield passed before me at least once. Killed right on landing. I didn't bother counting how many head-body piles lay at my feet. My task was singular.
Right before the pillar of light.
Until the heavens 'decided'.
Alone, I kept severing necks.