A simple gesture, a hand clenched from below to above.
However, the result that followed was far from simple.
The magic circle surrounding the Viduron Castle activated and it instantly enveloped the area.
Dark energy, infused with all manner of things, began to dominate the space, as the origin of greed reached out toward the shamanic magic that filled the battlefield with orc shamans.
Under normal circumstances, the Elder Shaman should have been firmly in control of that magic, but with the arrival of Benjamin and the Knights of Judgment, the Elder Shaman no longer had the opportunity to maintain his grip on the ritual.
“No, this can’t be!”
The Elder Shaman who realized too late that he was losing control tried desperately to regain it, but Shane’s greed never let go of its prey once it sunk its fangs in it.
With the little control he had left, the Elder Shaman issued a command to attack the man with the plain mask who appeared to be the cause of all this.
At his command, the orcs who had been advancing toward the castle halted and began to move toward the man in the plain mask.
But even that proved difficult.
He had already lost over 40 percent of his control, so the orcs whose wild nature had been suppressed by the magic began to lose their sanity and turn their weapons against their own kind.
[krrrrr……!]
In the midst of the chaos, a dark figure appeared and it blocked the path in front of the masked man.
The being that seemed to embody darkness hungrily sought out Shane’s origin, and like a beast, it charged toward the orcs.
However, it was impossible for it to stop the onslaught of tens of thousands of orcs alone.
Shane descended to the ground and summoned the low-grade spell of Wind Cutter.
But unlike the usual Wind Cutter, its size was comparable to a longsword and there were a hundred blades in total.
Shane ceased his efforts to reclaim the remaining 70 percent of control over the ritual and focused all his attention on these hundred blades.
As his overwhelming concentration imbued the blades, each one gained the power equivalent to a strike from a master swordsman.
These were the blades of countless talents he had coveted in his past life.
The brilliant souls wielded their swords for the future of humanity even in front of the overwhelming undead army, and now, that swordsmanship was unleashed upon the orcs.
It was a technique that was created by a certain genius later on.
It was a formation known as Hundred Blossoms Nightwalk.
Although it was originally a sword formation resembling a hundred petals scattering, Shane had independently refined it into its second form, Hundred Ghosts Nightwalk.
The hundred swords flowing with darkness turned anything that crossed the space permitted by Shane into nothing more than a spray of blood.
Nevertheless, the orcs risked their lives to carry out the Elder Shaman’s orders.
Hundreds, and thousands of orcs came at him from all directions.
Yet instead of weakening, the dance of Shane’s magical swords only accelerated.
Magical power continuously flowed out of Shane’s body and was immediately reabsorbed.
In the past, Shane’s heart would have burst from containing such immense magical power, but now it stood firm and unyielding.
Its performance is definitely good.
The Dragon’s Reverse Scale.
When this world was created, dragons were born at the pinnacle of all species and were the true masters of magic.
By virtue of that power, the Dragon’s Reverse Scale was able to endure the massive amount of magical power that flowed in and out.
“Hoo─!”
However, even it was not invincible.
There was a limit to the amount of magical power Shane’s heart could contain, and although his heart that was still at the second circle could rapidly absorb and release magical power, the absolute quantity of energy it handled was inevitably limited.
Then, when an orc swung its huge glaive at him, the formation shattered.
As if inviting them in, a gap opened wide and one of the orcs stepped forward.
“Who are you?”
The Orc Chieftain. When Pagabutan pointed his glaive at him, Shane also spoke.
[One who defied fate. And the one your god awaits.]
“Words I do not understand. Our god no longer concerns himself with our future.”
Since the moment the organization of Nameless made contact with the blue orcs, the Mountain King had stopped to involve himself with the orcs.
The orcs understood this as a sign to act according to their own will, and from that moment on, no more divine revelations came.
The Mountain King was a being that the Orcs both loved and hated.
Thanks to him, they had been allowed to survive even in this harsh land of Arunvida, and they had even been able to awaken their magical powers through the blood of young vampires. However, they lost the bet they made with the gods.
As a result, the orc race was reduced to nothing more than the gods’ playthings.
[Well, is that really the case?]
With those words, Shane retracted the formation he had spread out and looked at Pagabutan.
To Shane, the orcs had already become mere chess pieces on the vast board created by their god, the Mountain King.
They just believed they were walking the path they had chosen themselves, all due to Nameless’s interference.
“Let’s end this pointless talk here.”
[It seems we’re both of the same mind.]
Pagabutan who had received the god’s grace from the moment of his birth possessed strength that rivaled anyone’s.
He who was the only one freed from the shaman’s spell tightened his grip on the huge glaive.
Just as the orcs prepared to charge, following their chieftain’s lead, an overwhelming force of absolute power erupted from Shane’s body.
Even Pagabutan, who had received the Mountain King’s blessing, couldn’t help but falter in the face of this overwhelming presence.
The dragon’s aura which stood at the pinnacle of all races threw the charging orcs into disarray.
The orcs had no means to resist that power. They were consumed by their primal instincts.
“Grrr…”
The orc horde’s advance came to a halt.
Realizing that he was now alone, Pagabutan gnashed his teeth and charged once more.
However, before he could take even a single step, a sword flew at him and blocked his path.
A sword of wind that moved freely without anyone wielding it.
Hundreds of such swords charged at Pagabutan.
But it didn’t matter.
“Enough of this nonsense!”
With a single sweep, Pagabutan shattered the incoming swords.
It was the power of the glaive, infused with the Mountain King’s strength.
But Shane remained unperturbed.
Shane’s magic circle spun incessantly.
As dozens of swords vanished, an equal number were summoned again, blocking Pagabutan’s advance.
“Do you think mere wind can stop me?!”
Even as he shouted, Pagabutan was indeed advancing one step at a time.
Shane who was controlling hundreds of swords while summoning new ones found it difficult to move his feet.
However, the onslaught of swords grew increasingly fierce.
Like a formation closing in, the swords collided and accelerated the moment they were created.
Pagabutan’s pace gradually slowed.
[You’re approaching like a sluggish worm.]
Shane’s arrogant words ignited a fire within Pagabutan.
He would take a wound to strike a vital blow.
Pagabutan swung his glaive with great force.
The magical power within the glaive erupted, and in an instant, the hundreds of swords disintegrated into mere gusts of wind.
Thud!
Not missing that fleeting moment, Pagabutan kicked off the ground and charged.
But as soon as Pagabutan pushed off, the regenerated swords slashed deep into his thigh and shoulder.
“They got me, damn it.”
Despite the injuries, Pagabutan grinned widely and swung his glaive at Shane who was now within reach.
From below to above.
The glaive swept from Shane’s waist to his head.
However.
The sound of flesh being torn, which Pagabutan was waiting for, never came.
“……?!”
Shane who should have been struck by the glaive vanished like an afterimage, and then.
“Krrrr…”
The dark spirit took Shane’s place and it sneered at Pagabutan before disappearing.
Unable to withstand Pagabutan’s strength, the dark spirit was reverse-summoned back into Shane’s shadow.
But the fight was already over.
“Ugh─!”
A hundred swords flew at Pagabutan all at once before impaling him.
Greed devoured even the Mountain King’s power that had been protecting Pagabutan.
Pagabutan, with swords piercing him like a hedgehog, let his arms fall limply.
To bring this precarious battle to a close, Shane melted the hundred swords that were surrounding Pagabutan.
At the same time, countless teeth appeared and devoured Pagabutan.
[I sent you an invitation, so you should answer it.]
Pagabutan’s soul began to disintegrate.
And deep inside his soul, the fragment of the Mountain King surged more fiercely than ever and started to invade Shane’s mind.
***
A woman with light silver-blue hair, tied with a blood-stained ribbon.
In front of her, a horde of orcs filled the horizon as they drew closer.
Beside her, a warhammer soaked in blood was gripped next to a half-broken greatsword which was also drenched in blood.
Shane looked at the woman with eyes that seemed to view the world like a god.
Blue flames rose as if it was ready to consume her.
Zephyr D. Natasha Anastasia.
The second princess of the Empire.
Behind her, though they were not as numerous as the orcs, but still an armed human army stared her down.
Their eyes were filled with contempt, like those who gazed upon a traitor to the Empire.
A traitor.
The woman who had incited rebellion among the residents of Arunvida and massacred most of the northern lords.
Because of this, the Empire had hastily raised an army and marched north before drawing their swords against the traitor.
And now, hundreds of corpses surrounded the traitor.
They were the ones who had met their end while protecting their emperor, Anastasia, to the last breath.
Shane recognized many of their faces.
Among the bodies in Arunvida lay the trio of Kevin and the others along with Felice, whom Shane had seen upon arriving.
“With this, the Empire is protected.”
At last, in her final moment, the princess did not aim her sword at the Empire but at the orcs.
She swung her sword with an unwavering heart.
At that moment, she truly was an iron lady.
Charging toward an immeasurable number of orcs, her steps were relentless. Even as her cracked soul shattered, turned to dust, and scattered, she cut down and crushed as many enemies as she could until her very end.
And at that end, the orcs looked on with respect.
The humans looked on with fear.
They all beheld the final sight of the woman of steel.
[It is indeed a death befitting a hero, is it not?]
Following that final scene, the Mountain King spoke these words in full respect for Anastasia as a god.
This was an event that occurred in a different timeline.
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