Chapter 43

Chapter 43
The monstrous creature Malian understood completely the level of Seolrang’s power.

The aura she had demonstrated within the colony was even more formidable than that of Kalman Arents, a Babayaga with years of experience.

Yet, in spite of this, neither Malian nor Kalman believed they would be defeated by Seolrang in this confrontation.

Kalman Arents and the grotesque beast Malian were both Babayagas, the same as Seolrang, and, most crucially, they had taken in the Abyssal Essence.

Abyssal Essence

Malian did not understand the precise mechanism by which the Abyssal Essence bestowed power.

He only knew that an individual of a specific caliber who used the Abyssal Essence would, through some means, be granted strength.

For Malian, however, that understanding was enough.

Even now, as they battled Seolrang, they could both feel that the mere use of the Abyssal Essence had made them almost twice as powerful as before.

Crash—!!!

The chamber trembled violently, as if struck by an earthquake, when Malian’s fist hit the place where Seolrang had just been standing.

Crack!

The floor gave way under nothing more than the force of Kalman’s stomp.

And that was only the beginning.

Roar!!!

Malian demonstrated her incredible might by ripping the roof from the castle of the forgotten city and hurling it at Seolrang.

This devastating power, so far beyond human capability, filled the mercenaries, mages, and beastmen fighting the assassins with a sense of hopelessness.

However, despite this awesome show of force, the looks on Malian and Kalman’s faces were growing more troubled as the battle continued.

The cause was Seolrang, who was still holding her own against them.

The golden-eyed Seolrang, who had disappeared in a burst of lightning, materialized directly in front of Malian and delivered a blow to his side.

After deflecting an assault from Kalman Arents approaching from behind, Seolrang landed a solid punch on him.

Boom!

Malian and Kalman were thrown backwards, smashing through the wall of the large chamber.

“How can this be…!?”

Malian glared at Seolrang with a deep scowl.

Seolrang’s body was undoubtedly covered in wounds.

Her gleaming hair was matted with blood, and her unsettling form was crisscrossed with numerous injuries.

Nevertheless, she was the one in control.

Even after they had absorbed the Abyssal Essence and doubled their power, the two Babayagas could not make her yield a single step.

“You monster…!”

Malian snarled, morphing her deformed right hand into the shape of a blade.

‘She isn’t even radiating black magic, meaning she hasn’t taken the Abyssal Essence either…!’

Without having consumed the Abyssal Essence, her strength was so overwhelming that she dominated two Babayagas who had.

It was obvious… overpowering her through sheer force was not possible…!?

His previously confident expression vanished, replaced by a severe look as Malian glanced at Kalman.

“Click.”

As if acknowledging a pre-set sign, Kalman clicked his tongue and then sprang forward—not toward Seolrang, but toward the beastmen.

The instant Seolrang understood that Kalman was charging at Ralga, the tribesmember commanding the fight against the assassins, she reacted immediately.

Crack!

She intercepted Kalman’s punch.

Boom!

The frightening shockwave generated just from the impact of their fists caused Seolrang’s face to contort briefly.

But then she detected something odd.

Kalman, who had worn a grave expression moments earlier, now had a distinct, unambiguous smile on his lips.

At that exact moment—

Stab!

“Huh?”

A burning agony erupted in Seolrang’s back.

She turned to look and saw Ralga standing there.

“Finally…!”

A distorted grin on his face, Ralga had driven a blade into Seolrang’s back.

Confusion flooded Seolrang’s eyes for a moment.

“Ugh…!”

Blood trickled from her mouth.

Crash!

Kalman’s kick sent Seolrang flying, her body tumbling across the ground.

She could not comprehend what was happening.

Her eyes were full of uncertainty—questions, bewilderment, and yet more questions.

Her disoriented gaze settled on Ralga.

He was smirking malevolently.

Seolrang could not understand it at all.

“Why?”

The word left her lips.

As Seolrang rolled across the floor from Ralga’s treachery, despair washed over the faces of the mages, mercenaries, and beastmen, while a smirk of satisfaction appeared on Kalman’s.

The assassins’ eyes showed relief, and Malian’s expression hinted at victory.

All of this registered in Seolrang’s vision, but her attention remained fixed solely on Ralga.

“Why…?” Seolrang muttered again, still baffled.

Then, Ralga, who had been sneering this whole time, walked toward Seolrang.

Seolrang tried to move her body, but quickly found she was unable.

“The blade is coated with poison from Kamonasis. You won’t be able to move for at least an hour. It’s pointless to resist,” Ralga said, looking down at Seolrang’s stunned face as he drew nearer.

Contrary to his typically collected manner, Ralga curled his lip into a sneer as he knelt before her.

“Ah… what was it you asked? Why?” he taunted, pulling the gauntlet from Seolrang’s hand.

“I wanted this.”

“…What?”

“You heard me. I said I wanted this,” Ralga repeated, shaking the essence of the Golden Mane Tribe mockingly in front of her, a sly smile on his face.

Seolrang blinked slowly.

“You betrayed me… for that?” she asked.

She still felt no anger. Ralga, looking momentarily puzzled, soon burst into a scornful laugh.

“For this? Seolrang, do you truly believe the guild you built is still standing for some noble cause? Do you think the clans stayed for your little performance of family? No, not at all.”

Tap, tap—

“It was for this. The clans remained in the guild for the power they could obtain from you,” he sneered, tapping her cheek with the gauntlet.

Seolrang’s expression slowly darkened, her brow furrowing.

“Why would you think anything else?”

Internally, Seolrang knew that Ralga wasn’t completely mistaken.

She had always been conscious that the reason she could assemble the Golden Mane Tribe so rapidly in the colony was because she held the essence bestowed by the Great Moon.

But even so, Seolrang had not believed that the clans had remained with the guild this far into their journey purely for the essence.

Even if they had initially gathered for power, Seolrang felt that the time they had shared over the two years since forming the guild was authentic, and she trusted that she had been sincerely rebuilding her former family.

No, she had faith in that belief.

“That can’t be true…!”

Seolrang gritted her teeth, but Ralga did not wipe the mocking grin from his face as he stared at her.

Then, he gave a soft chuckle and snapped his fingers.

Snap—

As if they had been awaiting the cue, the other members of the Golden Mane Tribe began to assemble behind Ralga, one after another.

Seolrang stared at them in shock.

The clansman she had welcomed just two days prior.

The one who had conversed with her earlier on the journey here.

Without exception, they all stood behind Ralga, and Seolrang, noticing they were unharmed unlike the mercenaries, understood the reality.

“…Ha.”

For the first time, a bitter laugh escaped her.

Not the gentle smile she had always offered the clans, but a harsh, icy one.

“Now that’s the face of someone whose dream has been shattered. I’m pleased,” Ralga laughed, content, as he patted Seolrang’s head derisively.

“To be honest, your act of self-importance always sickened me. Wielding power you didn’t earn, just because you were fortunate… It was difficult to endure. How does it feel to have that dream end?”

“…Are the others… traitors as well?” Seolrang answered his question with one of her own.

Ralga, seeing the betrayal and hatred concealed behind her bitter smile, found it entertaining and twisted his lips to reply.

But before he could speak—

“That’s enough. Let’s end this,” Malian interjected, stepping forward before Ralga could utter a word.

He shaped his arm into a blade and lifted it, ready to deliver the final blow to Seolrang.

“It will be troublesome if she recovers, so we should kill her now.”

Just as Malian was about to strike Seolrang down with his blade—

Swoosh—

A faint look of inquiry appeared on Seolrang’s face, which had been filled with resignation moments before.

And not only Seolrang.

Ralga, who had been sneering, also looked confused.

The mages and even Liyan, who had been in despair, wore identical expressions of puzzlement.

Even Kalman, who had been smirking just earlier, now appeared bewildered.

The reason for this was…

“Ah—?”

A large, gaping hole had suddenly appeared in the head of Malian, who had been reveling in his triumph just a moment ago.

Thud—!

Malian’s body dropped to the ground, lifeless.

As everyone began to process the inexplicable death of one of the colony’s Babayagas,

“Ah—?”

Liyan, who had been gazing vacantly at the scene, suddenly noticed her breath forming a cloud of white vapor in the air.

At that moment, everyone present saw him.

Emerging silently from the distance, from the forgotten city of the god Kahara, was a man.

Crunch—

With every step he took, ice spread out, freezing the ground underfoot, and a pale gray magic from the bracelet on his left wrist wrapped around his body like a sheath of thin ice.

Step, step—

The man’s pace was steady and unhesitating.

Even with a Babayaga and dozens of foes ahead of him, his countenance remained completely impassive.

Devoid of any emotion or reaction, he continued his advance, and everyone began to grow tense at his approach.

Ralga, who had been taunting Seolrang earlier,

Kalman, who had been smiling with assurance, and every enemy present grew anxious as they watched the man with the vacant expression.

Because they had all seen it.

They had witnessed Malian, a Babayaga, have his head pierced through in an instant.

“Ugh—!”

As the man slowly drew nearer, Ralga instinctively stepped backward.

And he was not alone.

Every individual recognized as the man’s ‘enemy’ naturally retreated.

His mere presence was suffocating, filling them with a profound sense of powerlessness and dread.

Even Kalman, the most powerful among them, felt it.

‘What is that!?’

His body recoiled as he stared at the man, whose eyes were so deeply black and blue that he instinctively knew trying to understand them would shatter his sanity.

“Master…?”

Finally, the man, Alon, reached Seolrang, who still had the blade embedded in her back, and gazed at her intently.

“Ice Crystal (氷晶).”

He uttered a term, different from any he had used before.