329 – Division -2-

Elf.

A race said to have actively interacted with humans in ancient times.

They were adept at nurturing plants.

With an innate talent for handling bows and arrows, and a natural gift for magic that transcended human limits, they were a race apart.

With beauty that inspired admiration.

A race blessed with longevity, living for over a thousand years, now stood before Malik.

“An elf…?”

Seeing the woman’s ears, which had approached without a sound, Malik was momentarily engulfed in bewilderment, muttering to himself.

“Why is an elf here…?”

Elves were akin to ethereal beings.

The only chance to glimpse their kind, gathered around the World Tree, was through ancient texts. They had remained hidden for such a long time.

Those who claimed to have seen elves were regarded as mere braggarts, and not a single person had ever brought back proof, making them creatures of fairy tales.

Before Malik’s eyes stood a being he had only ever seen in murals, his gaze trembling as he struggled to mask his astonishment. The soldiers behind him were equally transfixed, whispering among themselves at the sight of the pointed ears peeking from beneath the robes.

– It’s an elf…

– Why is an elf here?

-Is it the lion that guards the holy sword…?

In that moment, as the emotion of confusion washed over everyone present, a chilling magic brushed against their shoulders, beginning to gather a shiver deep within.

“Ha… βρώμικοι ⲛⲁⲅⲉⲙⲛⲉ. (Dirty humans.)”

As incomprehensible, foreign words floated above their heads like question marks, an elf cloaked in thick robes parted their lips, releasing a melody steeped in pale resonance.

“Σχίσε και πλήγωσέ. (Tear and wound it.)”

-Saaah…

“The Falling Star of the End.”

A colossal shadow loomed overhead. A mass imbued with an unimaginable, ominous magic began to obscure the waning light of the sun, casting a vast shadow across the land.

-What the hell…!

-What is that, damn it!

-Why all of a sudden…!!!

The eyes of those witnessing the descending nebula trembled like fledglings encountering a predator in their nest.

There was only one way to escape the sky shrouded in that immense shadow: to flee.

-Kugugugugugung…!

That mass was beyond the capacity of any mere human to confront or cleave. All they could do was run.

With a voice trembling like the divine authority of a god, Malick spoke.

“It’s an ambush…”

-Director!!!

-Everyone, pull yourselves together!! Don’t waver, maintain formation!

-W-We have to run!

As the cacophony of chaos echoed across the battlefield, Malick commanded.

“Scatter…”

Malick shouted louder.

“Everyone, scatter!!!”

As Malick’s voice reverberated through the ranks, those fleeing into the blind spots finally gritted their teeth and began to run.

The academy students, inexperienced in battle, sprinted without a glance back, desperate to preserve their lives. Those seasoned in the ways of war, however, calculated the scale of the shock and slowly widened their distance.

To stray from the formation would mean becoming part of their cruel game.

The greatest fear of large-scale magic lay not in annihilation, but in the lurking presence of hunting hounds, hidden and waiting. Thus, the soldiers struggled to maintain their wavering ranks, quickly creating space between them.

-Tatadadak!

Footsteps echo.

Among those who had been hiding, the sound of feet leaping up reached Malik’s ears countless times.

‘Ten…?’

-Patapata…!

‘No… I can’t count them.’

Chasing the sounds of the swiftly moving figures, Malik snapped back to reality and began to run. In this moment, he was the strongest force on the battlefield, a pillar of strength.

As he quickly scanned the scene, he thought to himself.

‘The archbishop he mentioned totals five.’

Then… the strong energies.

Two towards Yuria and Mikhail.

One towards Ruin.

And two towards Hannah.

As Malik prioritized his thoughts, he attempted to pivot swiftly.

“Μην κινείσαι. (Don’t move.)”

The pale voice of a woman froze him in place.

“…Elf.”

The elf standing on the hill was gazing directly at him, her eyes promising death if he dared to stray from her line of sight.

Her green eyes, filled with fury as if demanding he take the full brunt of a falling stone from the sky, were fixed solely on Malik.

“I must go to Hannah…”

-Gugugugugugugugung.

‘Even if it’s Hannah, two archbishops will be overwhelming. But…!’

Malik exhaled deeply and squeezed his eyes shut.

‘She has no intention of letting me pass easily.’

He spoke to the elf.

“Are you my opponent?”

Faced with the overwhelming disparity in skill, Malik gripped his sword tightly and began to kick off the ground.

“How exhilarating.”

He spoke, hoping for Hannah’s safety.

“If I win, I will send you to the mandrake fields. You’ll be working six days a week, running in circles.”

An aura enveloped Malik’s sword.

As Malik’s blade sought the elf’s throat,

– KWA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA-GA!!!!!

The falling mass began to blanket the earth.

Cracks erupted in the ground.

Those who lost their balance to the colossal shock tumbled down.

Victims began to roll down the mountainside,

the aftermath of the impact claiming them one by one.

And amidst this chaos, the one facing the gravest peril was none other than,

“Brother…!”

Histania Hannah.

The heat generated by the sphere of blazing magic began to melt the snow of the icy peaks.

The ground simmered, bubbling with flames,

and the steam created by the heat obscured her vision.

“…Damn it.”

Jinyoung had long since lost his composure.

All that could be seen through the haze were the silhouettes of the fallen and their ragged groans.

An ambush.

An unexpected ambush.

Though she had anticipated a surprise attack,

the scale of the onslaught was beyond anything she had prepared for, rendering her plans meaningless.

– “AAAHHH!!!! My arm…! My arm!”

– “Get a grip! Grab your swords, you fools!”

– “There’s an enemy ahead!!!”

Hannah clenched her fists as she gazed at the empty space where her brother had approached the elf.

He was a foe too powerful to confront.

She could sense it in his gaze. It felt as if she were staring at an insurmountable wall.

The fierce spirit of a woman, akin to witnessing her father exuding malice towards the butler, was unfathomable.

With her eyes tightly shut, Hannah exhaled deeply and began to raise her trembling sword.

“I must go help…!”

– Thud.

“…!”

Hannah halted her steps, frozen in place.

She heard some of the footsteps that had filled the air come to a stop before her.

‘…Strong.’

A powerful presence stood before her.

—

Two of them.

Hanna gathered her aura, drawing a wide arc toward the silhouette that emerged through the white mist.

– Swoosh.

It was not visible.

Surely, there had been a black silhouette before her, yet where the blade had passed, only the trace of smoke remained—no blood, no sign of what had transpired.

“…”

As she gritted her teeth, attempting to pierce through the fog.

– Swoosh!!!!

A great bell began to toll in her mind, ringing like a warning. It screamed, ‘Dodge!’ as if it were her very life at stake.

Hanna spun around swiftly. And there, where her heart had once been, a massive spearhead took its place.

“…!”

Just as the startled Hanna tried to create distance, a chilling voice whispered in her ear.

“Good instincts.”

“…”

“If you had turned just a moment later, you might have found some comfort.”

“Who are you…?”

“No need to know. You’re going to die anyway. Why trouble yourself with the details?”

The moment the cold voice concluded, the spearhead that had been poised at her side began to pulse with dark energy, inching closer.

In response, a presence surged through the mist from the opposite side, fiercely closing in to seize her head.

Two of them.

“Truly…”

Two formidable foes, akin to the ‘Archbishop of Malediction’ she had seen at the ball. Back then, she had the butler to rely on, but now the situation was dire.

‘This is too much for me alone…!’

Hanna clicked her tongue, gathering her aura.

‘If only I had one more to draw their attention…!’

It had been a long time since she faced such a suffocating battle. A fight where even the slightest mistake could cost her life—perhaps it was the first time she felt this way.

As if standing before an elite orc in a dream, a tension filled her body, parching her lips.

– Whoosh!!!

A sense of foreboding loomed.

But.

—

– Chitter-chatter-chatter-chatter-chatter-chatter-chatter!!!!!!

When Hannah beheld the countless red lightning bolts whispering hope as they fell from the sky, a faint smile blossomed at the corners of her lips.

“No, I will overcome it all.”

She yearned to present a splendid visage.

To that person.

And.

She wished to lighten the burden.

*

Yuria and Mikhail halted their hurried steps, confronted by a man clad in a white robe that blocked their path.

He wielded a massive sword.

The man, exuding an indelible stench of blood, stood before Mikhail and Yuria, driving his sword into the ground and uttering in a low voice.

“It has been a long time.”

“…”

“Do you not remember?”

“Who are you…?”

“Hmm… I would think my visage is not easily forgotten.”

Mikhail drew his sword, pointing it at the man. Yuria, too, enveloped her fists in divine energy, readying herself.

The man let out a raucous laugh as he regarded Mikhail and Yuria.

“There’s no need to be so tense.”

“…”

“I am not here as an enemy today.”

Mikhail turned to the anxious Yuria, his voice steady.

“Yuria, leave this to me. Go fetch help.”

“No. I will fight too.”

The man shook his head, his tone dismissive.

“It’s a lovely display of friendship, but venturing that way would be unwise.”

Srrr… The man withdrew the sword he had planted in the ground, his voice turning cold.

“There’s a swarm of ants, you see.”

– AAAAAAAAH!!!!

No sooner had the man’s words faded than the air was filled with the screams of countless souls, echoing in their ears.

Screams of soldiers.

Screams of students.

All manner of sounds began to coalesce, thrumming with a chaotic energy.

The man shed his robe and spoke.

“Help the others.”

Black hair.

Fierce gaze.

Long ago.

The monster he had first encountered, the one known as a heretic, was now smiling at him.

In a manner far more serene than before.

[Balak Lv. 91]

Occupation: Archbishop of Despair.

“I must betray.”

He offered a greeting.