The Book of the Dead
Whoooosh—!
Thud.
The moment Anubis took the full force of the Diamond Palm and crashed to the ground, the summoning circle snapped shut and vanished without a trace.
"Ugh… I actually made it."
Canteas let out a long, shuddering breath of relief and hung his head.
When he had felt Anubis's power at the end, he had genuinely thought he was about to die. How could death energy condense into something so thick and tangible? How dense, how overwhelming, did that power have to be for such a thing to even be possible? He couldn't begin to measure it.
"You did well, Canteas."
"So that was your plan all along? A reverse summon?"
"Yeah. But…"
"?"
"What the hell is this?"
Do-ha pointed at the Fenrir before them.
What had Canteas created that it now possessed a self—an actual ego?
"Beats me?"
"Beats you…?"
Do-ha let out a hollow laugh at Canteas's answer. How could the one who made the thing not know what it was?
Then he felt it—Fenrir's gaze.
"?"
Canteas lifted his head and met those eyes.
"So you are the king they chose."
"They?"
"…"
Canteas tilted his head, and Fenrir fell silent. But before the wolf closed its mouth, Do-ha—standing a short distance away—saw it clearly.
Just now… that Reaper told Fenrir to keep quiet.
A single raised finger. A shushing gesture. The Reaper had sealed Fenrir's lips.
What was that Reaper? Anubis had been startled by it, and the thing itself seemed to possess a will of its own.
Even Canteas doesn't seem to know what's going on…
What kind of absurd sequence of events led to a situation like this?
More than anything, Canteas's growth had been staggering. The fact that they had managed to send Anubis back to the Underworld at all owed a great deal to him. Do-ha had always known Canteas was formidable, but this battle had shown him that the lich's magic had climbed an entire level.
Ssssss…
The Reaper who had silenced Fenrir grew steadily fainter, dissolving into nothing. And as it faded—
It bowed.
A light, respectful incline of the head, directed straight at Do-ha.
What? Why is it bowing to me?
Before Do-ha could even form a question, the Reaper vanished completely.
"I should be going as well."
With the Reaper gone, the crimson light in Fenrir's eyes began to dim. The only reason his soul had been able to surface like this at all was thanks to that Reaper. Without it, even conversation would have been impossible.
"May my remnants be of use to you. Until we meet again."
"Wait—!"
Tssssss…
Fenrir's gaze went dark, and his soul slipped away to the Underworld. What remained was nothing more than a colossal skeleton under Canteas's control.
"Do-ha, what the hell just happened?!"
"…Why are you asking me?"
Do-ha's face went blank. The Reaper, Fenrir—none of it had been his doing. He had more questions than answers himself. Being interrogated about it left him with nothing useful to say.
Whoosh.
Thud.
"What is that enormous thing?"
"It's the size of a mountain."
"Where have you two been playing around?"
Metatron and Baal descended, and Do-ha looked them over. They should have shown up while he was fighting Anubis. What had they been doing that they only arrived now?
"Playing around?!"
"We were busy."
Both of them bristled at once.
They had been clearing out the cult forces in the area—Metatron heading north to support Selenia and Han Jeong-soo, Baal heading south to aid Woo Shin, Kang Ji-hwan, and Han Se-ah. In truth, if either of them unleashed their full power, the work would have been finished far faster. The problem was that neither could properly exert themselves here.
If Baal's identity as a demon were exposed, he would be branded a traitor and the Demon Kings would send armies after him. Metatron faced the same constraint: if word got out that an Archangel was present, Heaven and Hell would almost certainly go to war. So both had been forced to hold back, doing what they could under those restrictions to support the others.
And now Do-ha was calling it "playing around."
"I'm kidding."
Do-ha smirked as the two of them sulked. He had already known through his senses that they had split up to reinforce the northern and southern fronts. The eastern side, where the Heavenly Demon and two True Dragons were still fighting, seemed to be holding out—and the rest of their party was already heading that way.
"We'll talk later. Move east."
"Understood."
"I'll go on ahead."
Whoosh!
Metatron and Baal launched themselves into the air and vanished in an instant.
"Canteas, let's move too."
"Wait!"
"?"
As Do-ha started to leave, Canteas scrambled toward the rubble. When Fenrir's remains had stirred, the debris covering its body had been heaved into something resembling terrain. As mentioned, Fenrir was roughly the size of a mountain—and a creature that large, once it moved, left behind an absurd amount of wreckage. At this scale, "debris" was the wrong word. It was cracked earth, plain and simple.
Zaaaaang.
"You lot—clear this out!"
Canteas summoned fifty thousand undead and set them to hauling away boulders and clods of earth.
"Wow… so the pyramids really were built by humans."
Watching fifty thousand undead tear into the rubble, Do-ha's mouth fell open. Only a few minutes had passed, and the work rate already looked like dozens of excavators running full tilt. Seeing it, he found himself newly convinced that the pyramids of the distant past had, in fact, been built by human hands.
"Want a hand?"
"No!"
Canteas recoiled in horror. He could have erased rubble of this scale with ease. The reason he was using undead instead was simple: caution.
"If you move, everything just gets obliterated."
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
Zaaaaang.
Reverse Gravity.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
The spell unfurled, and the debris alone rose into the air while the undead remained where they stood.
"Oh."
"What are you looking for?"
"The Book of the Dead, obviously."
Canteas smiled. The very relic Anubis had been hunting—he had been hunting it too.
"Ah. So that's why you wanted to come to Iceland."
"Exactly."
Canteas nodded. He had never touched it himself, but he was certain.
"With the Book of the Dead, I can climb another level."
He had been overflowing with mana for a long time now, yet he still couldn't break through to the Ninth Circle. But if the Book of the Dead was real—if he could glimpse the magic of a god—then even if he couldn't fully replicate it, a breakthrough in realm was possible.
"Hmm."
"Huh? Why that reaction?"
Do-ha narrowed his eyes, and Canteas tilted his head. He had expected praise, or at least some teasing about finally chasing a breakthrough. Why the silence?
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"About what?"
"Stuff."
"Come on, what?!"
Canteas hopped in place, but Do-ha simply ignored him.
The Reaper… Fenrir's soul…
Even without the Book of the Dead, Canteas would reach the Ninth Circle soon enough. From the perspective of someone who had once stood in the Life-or-Death Realm, Canteas had already stepped into the domain of the divine long ago. He simply hadn't had the catalyst to cross into the Ninth Circle.
If he'd kept fighting Anubis a little longer, he might have broken through right then.
A faint regret settled in. He should have sent Anubis back a little later. Canteas might have grown even further.
Clack. Clack.
While the two of them talked, a single skeleton sidled up.
"Hm? What is it?"
The skeleton held out a golden book.
"Oh!!!"
Canteas let out a triumphant shout. It was the Book of the Dead—the very thing Anubis had so desperately sought.
"Heh heh. Divine magic. The god of the Underworld."
He started to open it—
Grab!
"Huh?"
Do-ha's hand shot out and stopped him.
"You're going to look at it here? You have no idea what might happen."
Most of the enemies were dead, but they were still standing in the middle of hostile territory. And there was no telling what would unfold the moment that book was opened. Anubis might come bursting out again—or Canteas might fall into a trance the way he had before, swallowed whole by the Book of the Dead. If he was going to open it, better to do it somewhere else, or at least wait until everyone had gathered.
"Ah… right."
"I get that you're excited. But let's finish off the remnants in the east first, then look. I'm curious too."
"Fine."
Zang.
Canteas nodded and stowed the Book of the Dead in his subspace.
Slash!
Thud.
"Haa… haa…"
"Huuu…"
"I'm… done."
Having cut down the last of the cultists, Woo Shin, Kang Ji-hwan, and Han Se-ah collapsed where they stood, gasping for air. They had swept the entire island of Iceland, hunting down every cultist in hiding. Their legs trembled. Their arms had no strength left.
"I'm so exhausted I feel like I'm going to throw up…"
"Same…"
"Me too."
The three of them—who had somehow become something like friends—nodded at each other through the fatigue. Comrades who bled together on the battlefield became brothers-in-arms. That was exactly what they were now.
"Pathetic."
"Don't make such weak noises over something this minor."
"…"
"…"
"…"
At Metatron and Baal's words, all three clamped their mouths shut. They wanted to snap back—but they couldn't. These two were an Archangel and a Demon Archduke. Do-ha had already told them as much.
"Everyone worked so hard. You must be exhausted."
Shimmer.
Bloop, bloop.
Selenia approached with a gentle smile and called forth water spirits.
"Lady Selenia… what is this?"
"Water spirits. You must be thirsty—please drink. The water carries life force; it should restore some of your stamina."
Palm-sized spirits fluttered diligently toward the three of them.
"Uh… how do we drink it?"
Gurgle.
At Han Se-ah's question, a water spirit formed an apple-sized droplet of water in midair.
"You don't need to touch it. Just bring your lips to it."
Slurp.
Once Selenia explained, all three drank from the floating droplets.
"Whoa!"
"Oh—my stamina…"
"Thank you."
The three of them smiled and bowed to her. They weren't fully recovered, but they had enough strength to stand and move again.
"Lord Metatron, you must be tired as well. Please have some."
"My thanks."
Metatron nodded and drank as well.
"Lord Baal…?"
"I'm fine. I'll take the thought."
"Yes."
"Your warmth is truly like that of an angel."
Metatron smiled softly at Selenia after finishing the water. He had watched her for quite some time while staying here, and the more he saw of her, the warmer her heart seemed. How had a creature like this ended up attached to that madman Baek Do-ha?
"Like an angel… I offer you water and you insult me."
"How is calling someone an angel an insult?"
"It is. Angels are dark and two-faced on the inside."
"Then is calling someone a demon a compliment?"
Crackle.
Whoosh!
"If you two keep fighting, I'm throwing both of you out."
Do-ha, who had just finished sweeping Iceland for remaining cult traces, fixed Metatron and Baal with a hard stare. The second they got a free moment, they were at each other's throats.
"Do-ha."
"You did well, Selenia."
He gave her shoulder a light pat. Fighting, looking after the party—he was genuinely grateful to her.
"Canteas, want some water too?"
"Heh heh. Nope."
"Why are you smiling like that? It's creepy."
Selenia frowned at him. Whenever he wore that grin, he always had something up his sleeve.
"Heh heh. Feast your eyes."
Like a child showing off a brand-new toy, Canteas pulled out the Book of the Dead and held it up for all to see.