The Danger of a Single Individual

The Mysticism Order.

Xenia Nippleheim couldn’t even open her mouth, suffocated by the overwhelming pressure.

Sweat dripped from her forehead, plip, plip.

Understandably so.

For her, pressure of this magnitude was unprecedented.

That wasn’t all.

It was clear that a special power was at play, constricting her body.

Mysticism, Warrior of Petrification.

A Mysticism that had even ensnared Paladin Centriol, rendering him immobile.

Vulcan possessed a unique trait.

Just as magic imprints amplified when paired with Mysticism.

A special constitution capable of amplifying Mysticism.

[Beloved of Mysticism]

Vulcan’s unique characteristic.

Amplified by Vulcan, the Warrior of Petrification petrified everyone.

“Move. Move!”

Xenia cried out ceaselessly, channeling her mana to will her body into motion.

But no matter how she urged her magic, her body refused to heed.

Xenia felt an utter powerlessness.

She had certainly believed in her own magic, until she walked through the door.

But the instant she saw that man, she saw no chance of victory.

Even for a perfectionist like her, his presence was so overwhelming that she conceded defeat in a heartbeat.

Vulcan Zebra.

A hidden bloodline of the Zebra Kingdom.

A man who, through countless trials and tribulations, had come to spew rage and hatred at the world.

Vulcan’s actual age was not so different from the others here.

The reincarnations of heroes were not born with vast gaps between them.

But Vulcan’s appearance was far removed from theirs.

His wrinkled face, cracked like ancient timber, was reminiscent of someone middle-aged.

He looked like a black magician who had sacrificed his own life force.

A dark wind swept through, scattering Vulcan’s hair, a mix of ashen and black.

Beneath it, a deep scar was etched into his forehead.

A gruesome mark left long ago by someone trying to pry open his brain.

Soon after, the scar split, and a new eye appeared.

With the advent of the third eye, the pressure intensified tenfold.

Xenia had forgotten to even breathe.

“To think you would come all the way here on your own two feet.”

Vulcan twisted his lips into a grotesque smile.

“A boon, indeed.”

The crimson eyes of the third eye pinned Xenia in place.

Terror clamped down, suffocating her.

Around Vulcan, the hands of the Gwejon descended in turn.

The Gwejon’s hands reached for them, unable to move.

“Aquiline.”

Vulcan was the one who sold Mushika to the Gwejon.

Aquiline, Mushika’s previous life, was an existence that Vulcan found troublesome.

“You should have never returned.”

Mushika had returned, albeit in soul form.

Therefore, Grantoni had no particular reason to close the reverse world.

And this event would become the root of all evil.

The Gwejon decided to spare no method to reclaim Aquiline.

As a result, he made a contract with Vulcan and shared his power.

*Thump-*

At that moment, the stairs below collapsed.

Darkness rushed up from beneath, instantly devouring the steps.

The moment you stepped into the darkness, an endless abyss threatened to swallow you whole.

Yet, even amidst this, not a soul could stir.

Vulcan hadn’t merely devoured the hero, Ordoman.

He had, until now, consumed countless souls, accumulating their power as his own.

The proof was in the unrestrained force erupting from Vulcan, a force even he couldn’t handle.

Normally, such unmanageable power would have spun out of control, but it was being regulated with the aid of Goezon.

“Zenia.”

Zenia’s body flinched.

An overwhelming urge to flee this place washed over her, choking her.

But her perfectionist nature barely held her rooted to the spot.

Her obsession with flawlessness somehow suppressed the terror.

“Your magic was ultimately meaningless.”

Meaningless.

Past tense.

For Zenia, who held no memory of Jerion, the statement was incomprehensible.

“Narea.”

Vulcan cast a sinister smile at the tense Acrede.

“The Goddess betrays us until the very end.”

Vulcan, having addressed each of the assembled heroes, drew his hands together.

Then, the hand of Goezon, hovering above Vulcan’s head, mirrored his action, joining palm to palm.

“The thousand-year-old time for vengeance has arrived.”

Before the suffocating might of Vulcan and Goezon, all were petrified, unable to move, staring upwards in utter despair.

Zenia squeezed her eyes shut, watching Goezon’s hand descend, closing in.

This was the end.

“I, here and now, solemnly decla…”

“I’m tired of hearing that.”

A boy’s voice sliced through Vulcan’s declaration.

Vulcan slowly turned his gaze.

There stood a boy, his hand raised above his head.

Vulcan knew him.

The figure who had set the Empire abuzz, the one who, for some reason, kept interfering with his plans.

He who had thwarted the hostage situation involving the noble Saint, Acrede’s Saint Narea, and rescued Musica.

Furthermore, he who strangely wielded Jerion’s dragon magic.

This was why he was even more incomprehensible to Vulcan.

Hanon Airey.

There he stood, right hand raised above his head.

‘How?’

Vulcan’s brow furrowed.

He realized how he had managed to move.

Mystery cancels out mystery.

His body cloaked in steel flesh.

This was a mystery transcending even the Petrified Warrior.

Hanon, of their company, was the only one who could move freely.

The petrification pattern.

Hanon had known it for an age, anticipated it long ago.

Thus, with his steel flesh, he was prepared regardless.

Even as fear gripped the others, Hanon’s eyes shone, untouched by trepidation.

When all were turned to stone.

Hanon instead peered into the coming turn.

Vulcan had joined hands with Goezon.

Even in this situation, Hanon remained unfazed.

This world, after all, had begun with Lucas as a variable.

That another variable would emerge was only to be expected.

Therefore, he had prepared, prepared and prepared again, never lowering his guard.

The ring upon his right hand blazed with light.

Variables were one thing, but a known pattern held no terror.

Kuggh!

Goezon, realizing Hanon’s intent, convulsed, but it was too late.

“Forced skip.”

The ring on Hanon’s right hand spat forth light.

Following the ring’s call, the darkness-draped sky tore open, and in its place, blue lightning yawned.

Come, Thunder Caller.

The goddess’s lightning, piercing even the demonic palace, stretched across the space.

Goezon, struck by the lightning any amount of times, hastily swung his hand.

――――――――――――!

A light of incandescent heat, devouring even the roar, exploded around them.

Before the overwhelming light, Xenia instinctively squeezed her eyes shut.

“Musica!”

Then, Hanon’s voice thundered through the light, echoing mightily.

The goddess’s lightning had forcibly undone the Petrified Warrior.

A greater power had nullified the mystery.

Goezon’s hand lashed out, spewing fury.

Lightning he had suffered an amount of times now.

He was well and truly inflamed.

Hanon, dodging Goezon’s onrushing hand, cried out.

“Reverse summon Goezon, along with Grantoni!”

When all were turned to stone.

Hanon was the only one among them who could see the next move.

How to stop Goezon.

The answer had already been decided, defined by those who came here.

Musika, hearing Hanon’s cry, spread her hands wide.

The Otherworld is not reality.

Even Grantoni, back at the Academy, could intervene in this situation.

Indeed, because he’s at the Academy, Gweijon cannot restrain Grantoni immediately.

That was also why they hadn’t bothered bringing Grantoni along.

Not to mention Musika.

She had spent an eternity in the Otherworld.

She knew well enough how to wield it.

“Excellent!”

Musika, her body loosening, grinned, a chilling expression.

In her eyes, a fierce rage toward Gweijon surged.

“Revenge time!”

The past days of suffering at Gweijon’s hands.

Her life, too, had been destroyed and stolen, just like her family’s.

Even Vinesha’s consciousness, residing beyond Musika, erupted with the same fury.

Black currents swirled, and vengeful spirits wailed.

The time for revenge had come.

She revealed her full power as a Soul Sorcerer.

KWAhhh!

Gweijon’s hand struck down, and the altar was devastated.

Musika shifted into the Otherworld.

Not yet.

This alone isn’t enough to stop Gweijon.

“Archdeacon Acrede, Lord Centriol, both of you as well!”

While Musika and Grantoni perform the reverse summoning, they had to stop Gweijon, now exposed to the outside.

Gweijon’s power could be offset by the Goddess’s strength.

“Yes, yes!”

“We accept our charge.”

Gweijon was a being sealed in the Otherworld, not a complete one.

The two were a Holy Woman and a Paladin.

They could certainly push Gweijon back.

If they pushed Gweijon back, Vulkan was within expectations anyway.

At that moment, black beasts emerged, tearing through the smoke created by Gweijon.

The black beasts, made of an ink-like fluid, bared their teeth.

Hanon and Isabel simultaneously pushed off the ground, wielding their palm strikes and sword.

KWAhhh!

With an explosion erupting from Hanon’s grip, a black beast was shattered to pieces.

The Goddess’s blessing imbued in Isabel’s sword unhesitatingly cleaved through the beast.

Through the smoke, Vulkan could be seen stomping the ground.

At the same time, the altar’s floor transformed into pillars, rising sharply.

Hanon, with practiced ease, evaded the blow and shouted,

“Xenia, Vulkan possesses a mystique akin to spatial displacement!”

Vulkan intended to bind all who came here as petrified warriors, before killing them.

Or, even if he couldn’t kill them, to let them be devoured by the Earth Dragon in the end.

And he himself planned to escape using that mystique.

Indeed, in the scenario, Vulkan succeeded in his escape if he didn’t bring Xenia.

Even now, the moment things turned sour, he’d try to flee.

That couldn’t be allowed.

“Your Saint-level magic can counteract it!”

But with Xenia here, it was a different story.

“I can do it!”

Xenia felt bewildered.

Vulkan’s power was beyond imagination.

Moreover, amplified by the Twisted Zone, he revealed a vast force.

Vulkan wielded his mystique freely, not even allowing them to approach.

However, Hanon, without hesitation, steered the situation forward, confronting him.

He, a peer of her age, was taking the lead in this situation.

He truly intended to defeat Vulkan.

For a moment, she wondered if he was in his right mind.

But he was earnest.

From the beginning, he had the same thought, to defeat Vulkan.

Lost in the chaos, Xenia inhaled sharply.

As they faced Vulkan, explosions erupted, and the altar was reduced to shambles.

Yet, cutting through the smoke, Hanon ruthlessly swung his hand like a blade.

Watching that spectacle, Xenia recalled Hanon’s introduction.

A student from the Jerion Academy.

She, the reincarnation of a hero, was seized by fear.

Meanwhile, the academy built under the name of Jerion…

The students enrolled there were confronting Vulkan.

*Slap!*

Xenia struck both of her cheeks.

And with that, the light in her eyes changed.

*I am Xenia Niflheim.*

The proud heir of the Niflheim Earldom.

Pushing aside self-doubt, embracing only perfectionism.

Now was a situation where she had to do that.

All around her, starlight flickered at once.

*I cannot tarnish the name of the Niflheim Earldom.*

*With the name of Xenia, I will win.*

She drew her staff and cried out with all her might.

“I’ll offset it!”

Hanon, hearing Xenia’s reply, rolled on the ground, catching his breath.

Unforeseen circumstances always arose.

Navigating them fell solely to Hanon.

Therefore, the objective remained unchanged.

Vanquish Vulcan.

“Isabelle.”

Hanon called out one last name, his hand a knife-edge before him.

The dragonic magic within him surged, wild and untamed.

“We will defeat Vulcan.”

“Understood!”

Isabelle answered without hesitation, unfurling the wings of a goddess.

Her eyes held an unwavering faith in Hanon.

All kindled their will, bracing for a desperate stand.

Vulcan, witnessing this, grew deeply displeased.

His gaze, along with it, settled upon Hanon.

A single figure had, in an instant, shifted the tide.

Xenia’s celestial magic unleashed a torrent of starlight.

Vulcan’s manipulation of space faltered.

At this rate, he couldn’t escape this place.

Vulcan narrowed his eyes.

The simultaneous emergence of Narea’s soul fragment, Jerion, and Aquiline, the three heroes…

He had greedily summoned the Gwaejon, intending to seize the souls of all three.

Yet, the resistance was fiercer than anticipated.

He’d planned to end the situation swiftly with the Gwaejon and the petrified warriors, but the situation had twisted.

This was all due to one individual.

Hanon Airey.

That wretch had reversed the situation in an instant.

Of course, the odds still favored Vulcan.

Only two were truly capable of confronting him.

Isabelle Luna and Hanon Airey.

Two children not yet of age.

The heroes and paladins, the most dangerous assets here, were preoccupied with holding back the Gwaejon.

So, by all accounts, Vulcan held the advantage.

Still, Vulcan expressed his displeasure.

For some reason, the boy reminded him of someone from the past.

A man who became one star leading all others, creating galaxies.

He, too, had overturned impossible situations in this very manner.

Therefore, he knew what needed to be done first.

‘He must be killed.’

That boy, left alive, would spell ruin.

He felt it with certainty.

The most dangerous adversary here, he considered, was not the three heroes assembled, nor the White Wood Craftsman battling the earth dragon outside.

A student from Jerion Academy.

Hanon Irei, also known as Bicamon Nifleheim.

It was him.