Illusion – Judge of God.
A spell crafted to dazzle the opponent’s eyes, perfectly aligned with Hio’s traits to maximize its effect.
The sky opens.
“Illusion – ‘Judge of God’ is activated.”
It was no exaggeration to feel that way.
Cutting through the dim air, a cluster of pure white light poured down from the heavens.
Within the space dominated by the Black Mist,
a colossal form made of light tore through the darkness and revealed itself.
Sharp beams of light parted the fog and opened the sky.
-“Insignificant phantoms of Atawolf.”
Slowly descending was a massive sword radiating light.
That one sword alone was enough to overwhelm everyone on the ground, but the sword of judgment was not just one.
“I am here.”
Piercing the sky, clouds, and darkness, the sacred light swords appeared one by one.
Their number reached dozens.
Truly, the Judge of God—a sacred sword worthy of such a grandiose name.
It was the wrathful punishment of a divine being.
Dozens of giant swords displaying their might, the golden giant seated beneath them,
and between them floated a pure white Sacred Beast.
Riding atop it was—
“The mage, Hio Pavlenko.”
Everyone on the ground looked up to the sky.
Alkmion, who was coughing up blood and throwing punches.
Sirbert, who was despairing and plotting for the future.
People cowering in fear, heads bowed to the earth.
Even the three girls who had just come up from the basement.
All were overwhelmed by the dozens of radiant swords slowly piercing through the darkness.
So all they could do was look up.
“This is the highest priority elimination target.”
However, the Black Mist cadre,
the emotionless phantoms of the Black Mist, were different.
They looked only at the target with unchanging elevation.
Though overwhelmed by the light swords, they did not retreat.
Such an order was not planted in their minds.
“Eliminate.”
They moved, knowing full well their bodies would be consumed by the blazing light swords.
Despite their bodies trembling instinctively before the overwhelming presence, they activated their abilities.
Those who could fly lifted themselves into the air.
Those who could not became Black Mist and surged upward all at once.
“W-where are you going!”
Alkmion, belatedly regaining his senses, leapt forward, but his aged body couldn’t reach his desired spot and collapsed.
It was over.
His stamina was gone, and his wounds severe.
“Block them!”
Sirbert hurriedly gathered his remaining mana, but it was useless.
At most, he had knocked down one or two enemies.
Those rising to the sky numbered already in the hundreds.
No, it looked as if the entire Black Mist on the battlefield was rushing forward.
Their ultimate target was one and only.
The mage Hio Pavlenko.
Pitiful phantoms who can neither die nor live.
Watching the wave of black rushing toward him, Hio raised his staff high.
Mana gathered, and his will moved.
[Skill – ‘Azure Flame’ is activated.]
Descending through the darkness were dozens of massive swords.
Azure Flame’s blue flames burned at the tips of those swords.
-“Ignite.”
He pointed the tip of his staff toward the ground.
Targeting the surging Black Mist, and simultaneously, blue flames shot from the sword tips.
The supreme flames that burned away all the encroaching mist and darkness.
Blue light shot downward.
Black Mist surged upward.
The blue flames and black mist collided in an instant.
Despite the immense energies clashing, there was no great shock or noise—
Because the battle was one-sided.
Azure Flame’s blue fire dominated.
The Black Mist facing it barely resisted, melting and crumbling away.
Devouring the Black Mist rushing upward, the blue flames swept downward relentlessly,
as if unsatisfied, spreading even further.
Driving out the Black Mist, it expanded like a blue sea, pushing far ahead.
The monsters remaining on the ground—
To burn their bodies entirely.
Quietly.
Swiftly, so fast that they would feel no pain, it burned them away.
Such was the will of the Azure Flame’s wielder.
The blue fire reflected that emotion completely, burning all darkness and driving out the Black Mist.
It did not take long for the battlefield to be enveloped in silence.
“…I knew he was crazy.”
Sirbert, who had confirmed that, slumped to the ground.
‘Was it frustration at being unable to reach that impossible power?’
Or relief that he hadn’t fled after all?
“Is he really trying to become a god?”
Looking up at the sky while sitting down, the blue flames purifying the darkness, the golden giant watching over it, the sacred sword shooting flames, and the one who did it all, seated on the white Sacred Beast, gazing distantly down at the earth.
“Uahaha!”
Alkmion, lying on the ground, burst into a manic laugh as he stared at the sky.
“Hahaha!”
Blood spattered from his mouth each time, but he paid it no mind.
“Are you watching?”
He spoke only to them.
“Hokin.”
Eyes wide, toward the corpse whose neck had been severed.
“Benuite.”
To the old comrades, dead with dozens of needles stuck in their hearts.
“Oliver.”
Whose head was crushed beyond recognition.
He spoke only to them.
Knowing no response would come, he kept speaking and laughing.
“Hahaha! Isn’t it great to be alive? Witnessing such a miracle!”
Despite his laughing mouth, his eyes looked deeply sorrowful.
“So, why did you rush off like that?”
He raised one arm to cover his eyes.
“…I’m sorry.”
His laughter turned to sobbing.
“…You. Speak.”
Roland Bernstein muttered almost absentmindedly.
“What is that… really?”
His gaze still fixed on the sky, the words clearly directed at Claire.
But no answer came.
Claire and Ravena beside her also looked up at the sword-filled sky with similar expressions, feeling the same emotions.
‘What could they say?’
‘How could they express this, this feeling?’
‘Would reverence be the right word?’
‘Or would “fear” beyond even that be more appropriate?’
‘What was that… really?’
At first, she had only thought he was a mere acquaintance of Sirbert’s.
It was strange for someone to just come to observe the combat practice that no one else could enter, but it wasn’t something that demanded much concern.
But that was…
Something she had never heard or seen before.
Something that only a god in the sky above could possibly do.
‘Wasn’t that the very form of the Judge, the executor of divine punishment?’
“I…”
Claire muttered, looking at Hio high above the sky.
“I’m… I’m up there…!”
Hio was so far away, out of reach.
She knew he was strong.
But now she understood even more clearly.
That spine-chilling strength.
A power she couldn’t even compare to.
‘Could she really stand beside such a Hio?’
‘Could she grow strong enough to not be shocked by this awe-inspiring sight?’
“I will… definitely…!”
No, she would.
She would definitely look at the world from the same height, beside him.
That thought alone made her heart race and tremble with excitement.
Claire clenched both fists tightly until they hurt.
She vowed that one day, she would make it so.
And because of that, Claire could see it.
While everyone’s eyes were captured by the swords of light dominating the sky, while they were mesmerized by the blue flames ruling the earth,
Claire was the only one looking up solely at Hio.
And so she noticed it.
The gaze of Hio, unblinking, fixed on one spot.
For some reason, an unsettling atmosphere.
Unlike everyone else who was relieved that this hell was over, he was still tense.
Although the surrounding mist had all cleared, the massive black veil cloaking the entire academy remained intact.
And the moment she realized that—
-The giant’s mouth opened again.
“Run away.”
***
Before being possessed by this world, Nam Tae-min was a fairly ordinary person.
Not a perfectionist, not obsessively neat, just the kind of person who got mad alone while playing games.
Tap tap—
“Did the guy who made this really mean for us to beat it?”
Nam Tae-min frowned deeply, tapping the mouse hard on the desk.
A single line of text appeared on the monitor he was staring at.
[You have died.]
“Damn it.”
‘What kind of game was this, a complete failure?’
‘How could an NPC have such broken traits and skills?’
“Tch… this game’s going down soon, huh?”
So it wasn’t a guess anymore, but a certainty.
Ventair Online.
He had been playing it fairly enjoyably for nearly three years, but hadn’t it been getting weirder the more he played?
The boss NPC of the hostile faction had way too overpowered abilities.
“Was his name Atawolf?”
The Black Fang faction he controlled was the real problem.
The Black Fang was actually all composed of the power of a single Atawolf. Wasn’t that already absurd?
The cadres and every individual Black Fang member beneath them were actually Atawolf’s Black Mist, as the setting went.
Originally normal people, but after joining Black Fang and being affected by Atawolf’s power, they had become that way…
“That’s just ridiculous.”
Those guys popped up all over the place, causing chaos and spreading their infamous name.
If that were all, it would at least be somewhat manageable, but fueled by that infamy, Atawolf’s power kept growing endlessly.
That worst criminal had accumulated the power to be considered the strongest on the continent.
If such an Atawolf appeared with his Black Mist, it was total annihilation for everyone, players or NPCs alike.
Nam Tae-min’s character ‘Vacation is Coming’ had died by unfortunate encounter with Atawolf.
“Dying to an NPC… I gotta get stronger fast.”
Muttering that, he moved the mouse again to click the revive button.
Behind that message was a backdrop of deep black.
Not a death effect, but the lingering presence of Atawolf’s Black Mist.
The trace of the overwhelming power he could never hope to resist.
***
The sudden flash of memories from the past was no coincidence.
- Run away.
With those final words, the golden giant vanished.
The dozens of swords of light that had filled the sky also disappeared instantly.
Darkness returned to the surroundings.
“…Run away…”
Sirbert muttered unconsciously and slowly rose from his seat.
This was the familiar darkness that triggered memories from the past.
The attack he thought was over had never ended.
No, it was just beginning.
“Run!”
Where to? That question was meaningless.
As far as possible. Just as far away as possible.
The Black Mist was already close.
It’s coming.
The living hell was coming.
The continent’s strongest and most terrible mist was rushing in.
“Stop dawdling and run!”
Sirbert shouted hoarsely at all around him.
“Run…!”
Was it already too late?
The space around him was so thick he could barely see an inch ahead.
The Black Mist had already engulfed his side.
The air trembled, the Black Mist vibrated.
Then came a sound emanating from the very space itself.
Yes. Yes.
A chilling voice scraping the eardrums.
A metallic voice coming from the Black Mist, with no discernible origin.
-“So you are Hio Pavlenko.”
The hairs on his skin stood on end at the whisper from the mist beside him.
No will to resist remained.
No matter how much he honed his psychokinesis, could he really stop this Black Mist?
What rushed over him was helplessness.
And despair.
He had thought he was almost among the strongest on the continent.
He had believed that if he evolved his top-tier skill, he could stand shoulder to shoulder with them.
…What a foolish delusion.
The presence felt on his skin was from an entirely different dimension.
An overwhelming power that could take his life with just a finger movement.
His body trembled not just from mana depletion.
So Sirbert looked up.
Though all he saw was complete darkness, he knew the light piercing it.
Having just witnessed that miraculous wonder, he instinctively looked up toward the sky, chasing some hope.
Kwah-ahng!
He shuddered.
What he saw was countless lightning bolts lurking in the darkness,
the heavy thunder filling the backdrop.
Flashing lightning.
And—
-“Pitiful.”