Chapter 48…
KWA-AAAAANG—!
The ground shook violently with the explosion.
The tremor was so great it was hard to stay upright, yet Dante and Acrasion shot across the forest as if flying.
DRRRRRRR—!
The mana within Dante’s body boiled madly.
It was the same mana he had always handled with care, worried that it might harm his not-yet-fully-grown body. But now was no time to worry about that.
‘Sir Zeke!’
The faces of Zionhark and the knights he had sent on reconnaissance surfaced in his mind.
He pushed his speed further.
The scenery blurred, smearing together like a watercolor painting as it whipped past him.
The air that hadn’t even scattered yet slammed against his face like a storm, but he felt no pain.
Only one thought filled his mind:
‘They must be safe!’
To Dante, Acrasion’s knights weren’t just subordinates.
They were his new family.
For the past three years of ceaseless war, they were the only ones he could truly rely on—brothers-in-arms who had shared blood and battle with him.
He could not afford to lose even one of them. Not a single one.
The knights following Dante—Milleon, Elaine, and the others—gritted their teeth as well.
The speed was astonishing, but falling behind was not an option.
They, too, were as worried for Zionhark’s squad as Dante was.
How long had they been sprinting at full speed? Only a few seconds, yet it felt far longer.
Gradually, Dante’s hazy vision cleared.
A nauseating stench stabbed his nose. Agonized groans filled the air.
And then—
‘Damn it!’
The scene before him was sheer devastation.
The ground looked as if a massive meteor had struck it, deeply cratered, blood and flesh scattered everywhere.
The carnage was so gruesome it was impossible to tell human from monster.
Dante bit down hard on his lip.
The stench of blood was suffocating.
If it was this bad… Zionhark’s party might—
“Commander!”
A cry of pain tore through the chaos. Zionhark’s voice.
‘There!’
Without hesitation, Dante hurled himself toward the sound.
“Damn it…”
He found him.
Zionhark staggered, clutching his mangled arm.
The black armor that had protected him was shattered, crimson blood dripping heavily from the cracks.
He looked like he could collapse and die at any moment.
And then—
FWOOOSH—!
Something burst out of the dust cloud.
‘A tentacle?’
It writhed like a giant worm, surging down to crush Zionhark’s body.
“You bastard!”
Zionhark swung his sword with all his strength.
CLAAANG—!
But with one arm ruined, his swing lacked power.
The flaming blade slipped uselessly against the tentacle, sending him staggering backward.
Dante’s eyes flashed.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he threw himself at the tentacle.
‘Bloom!’
Arpeon’s infinite potential awakened.
Mana exploded across the blade.
SSHHHRRRAAAK—!!!
Arpeon cleaved the massive tentacle cleanly in two.
With a shrill screech, black blood spurted high like a fountain.
“Sir Zion!”
Ignoring the spray of blood drenching him, Dante caught Zionhark before he collapsed.
“Ah, dammit. Hurts like hell…”
Even his grumbling voice was enough to ease Dante’s chest.
He wouldn’t die immediately, at least.
“The others?” Dante asked, carefully lowering him to the ground.
“Didn’t see… The blast came too fast. But I was leading—so they should’ve survived…”
Zionhark pointed weakly toward the side.
There lay a knight sprawled on the dirt.
Trisiel.
She was unconscious, her small body trembling faintly.
“Damn.”
The curse slipped through Dante’s teeth.
Trisiel—aside from Dante and Milleon—was the youngest knight of Acrasion.
Still inexperienced, yes. But diligent, upright, and beloved by every knight.
And now, she lay broken.
“Sir Milleon. Sir Elaine.”
“We await your command!”
“We await your command.”
Without further words, the two knights began scouring the area, rescuing their comrades.
Meanwhile, Dante stood still, Arpeon in hand, staring in one direction.
The direction the tentacle had come from.
‘What is it?’
At first, he thought it was a Gorgos.
But no—its form was something he had never seen before.
Which meant…
KWA-AAAAANG—!
The ground split open again, and at last, the colossal being revealed itself.
Darkness.
It wasn’t merely the absence of light.
It was darkness incarnate.
Roughly twenty meters tall, its massive body was nothing but void-black.
Its twisted carapace crawled with hundreds of tentacles, each studded with grotesque, glowing red eyes.
Each time its four gigantic legs struck the earth, the ground caved in.
Its very breath made the air scream.
Its aura was despair itself, condensed into flesh.
Dante had never seen it before.
Not once in three years of war had it appeared on the battlefield.
Yet he knew its name.
‘Nergar.’
The first child born when the Red Mother, Erebos, uttered her first word of hatred.
A being born from her scream, the embodiment of rage.
And before Dante’s eyes, Nergar seemed stronger than every monster he had ever faced combined.
ROOOAAAARRRR—!
Its roar ripped the world apart.
The pressure was crushing, enough to kill an ordinary human instantly.
‘Dangerous.’
It wasn’t even a direct attack. Its roar alone was enough to suffocate the injured knights.
Dante strode forward without hesitation.
“What are you doing?!”
Zionhark shouted in alarm.
This was not a monster one man could face alone.
It would take the entire Acrasion squad, at full strength, to even attempt it.
Yet Dante walked toward it alone, eyes locked on Nergar, pouring mana into Arpeon.
The monster’s despairing aura smothered him, making even breathing a struggle.
‘An overwhelming power…’
Dante grit his teeth.
He didn’t want to admit it, but Nergar was too much for him alone.
But retreat was never an option.
CRACK—!
Its maw opened, exhaling a breath that seemed to devour the very light.
‘Cut it.’
In times like this, thought must be simple.
No overthinking. No hesitation. Just focus.
Arpeon blazed with piercing mana, burning against the darkness.
‘I can cut it. No—I will cut it.’
Even as Nergar’s breath poured down on him, Dante’s eyes never wavered.
KWA-AAAAANG—!
Arpeon clashed against the dark breath.
Light and shadow writhed, trying to consume each other.
SZZZZZ—CRRRAK—
Dante’s blade split the breath, but only partially.
His strength wasn’t quite enough.
Darkness began to overwhelm the flames.
‘Khh!’
His small frame was pushed back, legs sinking into the ground, muscles and bones screaming.
Agony wracked him.
But still—he endured.
‘I will cut it.’
At that moment, his heart thundered.
THUMP—THUMP—THUMP—
The same warmth that had stirred at Erebos’ mana now blazed wildly.
Something deep inside him stretched awake.
The Stellar Flame.
The remains of the dead Avatar flared within him, feeding on Dante’s mana—sacred blue fire, burning to purify darkness and annihilate corruption.
Nergar’s breath, which moments ago seemed unstoppable, began to split apart under the divine blaze.
CRRRACK—!
Dante gripped Arpeon tighter.
“Split apart!”
His shout thundered across the battlefield.
The sword of blue flame carved the darkness clean in two.
KWA-AAAAANG—!!!
The dark breath crumbled away, devoured by the holy fire.
Nergar’s eyes trembled.
As if it had met its natural nemesis.
GUAAAARRRR—!
With a furious scream, unwilling to admit its own fear, hundreds of tentacles lashed down at Dante.
Far too many, far too powerful, for a single sword to block.
Dante bit his lip, ready to unleash the last of his mana in one desperate strike.
And then—
“You’ve done well.”
A calm voice came from behind him.
“From here, leave it to me. Rest for a while.”
Isabella Everhart.
Having rescued the wounded knights from the blast, she finally stepped onto the battlefield herself.
