Ultimately, the monster was defeated by Seolrang and Alon working together.  

Of course, Seolrang’s overwhelming abilities were so formidable that she could toy with the monster with ease.  

However, the monster’s unnaturally rapid regenerative ability allowed it to cling stubbornly to life.  

As the battle dragged on, it was Alon, using the Necklace of the Snow Eater to discern its weakness, who pinpointed the human-like vulnerable spot hidden beneath the monster’s maw, delivering the final blow and killing it completely.  

As the dark night gave way to the faint light of dawn…  

“Truly, truly, thank you.”  

From the half-ruined lord’s castle, Alon faced a man who bowed deeply, nearly falling to his knees.  

The eldest son of Count Lumière—or rather, the de facto Count himself, as the previous Count Lumière had perished at the Duke of Komalon’s ball—lowered his head in profound gratitude.  

Alon’s gaze shifted beyond the ruins of the castle, to the sight of displaced villagers and groaning, injured soldiers.  

What lay before him was the devastated state of the domain.  

While some parts remained intact, they were few and far between—most of the land was on the brink of ruin.  

Letting out a quiet sigh, Alon listened as the new Count explained the state of the Ashtalon Kingdom in detail.  

“…Duke Komalon is using the Outer gods?”  

“Yes.”  

“And the Outer god that was here—it was one of those the Duke unleashed?”  

“…That’s correct.”  

“Where is he heading next?”  

“I cannot say for certain, but judging from the direction he was moving, I believe he’s headed toward the lands of Duke Merkilane.”  

The Count’s face was heavy with sorrow.  

Alon nodded.  

“Thank you for informing me.”  

“I swear I will repay this kindness…!”  

As Count Lumière swore his promise multiple times, Alon turned and walked away.  

“Ah! Master!”  

Soon, he spotted Seolrang, who was surrounded by knights gazing at her with awe.  

However, there was something unusual.  

“Let go of me! Carrying me like this is undignified for royalty!”  

In one of her hands, she was holding a man dangling helplessly.  

The man, his face smeared with soot and seemingly mortified at being caught by the scruff of his neck, squirmed desperately to free himself.  

Alon observed the scene and asked,  

“…Who is this?”  

“Oh, this?”  

“Don’t call me ‘this’! I’m royalty! I am Karsem, a royal prince of Colony!”  

Colony’s royalty.  

Alon let out a quiet exclamation and searched his memory for information.  

The troublemaker Karsem, wasn’t it?  

Karsem, the second prince of Colony.  

In Psychedelia, he was introduced as a minor character with no significant role.  

As expected of someone nicknamed “troublemaker,” he caused endless problems that the protagonist’s party often had to clean up.  

After pondering briefly, Alon looked at Karsem.  

For royalty, his behavior left much to be desired.  

He was covered head to toe in soot.  

Just as Alon was examining him,  

“Hey! You there! Show some respect!”  

Perhaps needing an outlet for the humiliation he suffered at Seolrang’s hands, Karsem jabbed his finger at Alon, yelling rudely.  

Alon gave him a peculiar look.  

It was true that he should show proper respect to a prince, but Karsem’s reputation in the game as an arrogant and ill-mannered troublemaker seemed justified now.  

Still, Alon could understand to some extent.  

Karsem was young, barely into his twenties.  

Moreover, unlike other royal families, the first prince of Colony had been groomed as the heir from a young age, leaving the second prince largely neglected.  

Even so, it was proper to show him respect.  

Alon began to bow slightly—  

“Master! Wait!”  

“Ahhhhh!”  

Seolrang suddenly grabbed Karsem by the scruff of his neck and dragged him to the back of a ruined house.  

“?”  

Alon raised a puzzled eyebrow but soon saw the two walking out amicably, side by side.  

And then—  

“Ah, greetings, Marquis Palatio. I apologize for my earlier rudeness… H-Haha.”  

“…??”  

Karsem’s unexpectedly meek demeanor raised Alon’s curiosity for a moment.  

Then he noticed something subtle—the faint glimmer of fear in Karsem’s eyes.  

“…”  

Alon turned to Seolrang.  

She met his gaze with a cheerful smile so radiant it was almost unsettling, as if nothing unusual had just occurred.  

Swish, swish—  

Her tail swayed contentedly, but Alon couldn’t shake a strange sense of unease.  

***

“…So, did you come to Ashtalon to rescue Karsem?”  

“Hmm, half and half?”  

A little later, Seolrang explained why she had come.  

“I had other things to do here anyway, and since the king asked, I decided to help. By the way, Master, why are you looking at me like that?”  

Tilting her head with a curious expression, Seolrang waited.  

Alon responded, “Oh, it’s just surprising how readily you listen to the king.”  

Of course, listening to the king is common sense in this world. Still, having seen what he had last night, Alon couldn’t help but comment. His thoughts drifted to Seolrang’s incredible display of power the night before.  

…With strength like that, it feels like she wouldn’t need to listen to anyone, even the king.  

Thinking this, Alon gave Seolrang a fresh, appraising look. He already knew she was extraordinarily strong. On top of that, the recent appearances of the Five Great Sins had made it clear how exceptional their abilities were.  

And yet, what Seolrang had shown last night surpassed even the legendary power of Baba Yaga that he was familiar with.  

…Then again, Deus also transcended expectations when he subdued Basiliora.  

Just as Alon recalled Deus’s overwhelming presence during that conquest, Seolrang snapped him out of his thoughts.  

“I received something good in return!”  

“What…?”  

“Yep! Since I had things to do here anyway, I figured I might as well help. Isn’t that nice of me?”  

With a grin that seemed to demand praise, Seolrang’s expression beamed with pride. Alon couldn’t help but chuckle and patted her head.  

“Woof~!”  

Seolrang’s tail wagged furiously as she purred with satisfaction.  

From the corner of his eye, Alon noticed an odd sound. Turning to its source, he found Karsem—who had been scowling moments ago—now staring at him in utter disbelief. His expression was as though he had witnessed something utterly unthinkable.  

Alon briefly wondered about Karsem’s reaction before turning back to Seolrang.  

“Is your business here finished?”  

“Hmm… I think so. Oh, right! Master, why are you here?”  

Seolrang asked, her tail still swishing happily.  

“I’m here to stop Duke Komalon.”  

“Duke Komalon?”  

“Yes. Unfortunately, we’ll have to part ways here—”  

“Oh, then I’ll come with you!”  

Before Alon could finish, Seolrang answered cheerfully.  

“…Come with me?”  

“Yep!”  

“I hate to say this, but it’s going to be dangerous.”  

“I know! That’s why I’m coming.”  

“…Why?”  

“To protect you, of course!”  

Seolrang clenched her fists and puffed out her cheeks, her determined eyes locking onto his.  

Faced with such pure, unwavering resolve, Alon felt a pang of emotion well up within him.  

‘…So this is why everyone says daughters are the best.’  

He suddenly recalled his friend’s passionate argument about why having a daughter was superior, complete with an eighteen-point list of advantages, delivered back when said friend had gotten married at 20 after an unplanned pregnancy.  

…Of course, Alon’s friend’s daughter was still only a little girl who hadn’t even started elementary school yet. But in this moment, Alon felt like he finally understood what he had meant.  

Just listening to Seolrang’s words brought Alon an inexplicable sense of warmth. Without realizing it, he began to pat her head with both hands.  

“Woof!”  

Although Seolrang didn’t seem to understand the reason, she loved it even more, rubbing her head affectionately against his hands.  

…It was heartwarming.  

“…”  

Of course, while Alon felt his heart grow warmer, Karsem’s expression only grew more sour.  

But that didn’t last long.  

“By the way, is this really fine?”  

“Hmm? What are you referring to, Master?”  

“…Shouldn’t we be taking care of your original task first?”  

Alon gestured toward Karsem with his chin, and the previously silent prince hurriedly spoke up.  

“Y-Yes, I agree! Shouldn’t taking me back to Colony be the first priority?”  

Though he shifted back into informal speech, Karsem’s once-confident demeanor had completely vanished, leaving him timid and unsure.  

Alon couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Seolrang had done to him.  

“We can just stop by on the way, can’t we?” Seolrang suggested casually.  

“…That’s too dangerous,” Karsem protested.  

“You won’t die, will you?”  

“…I mean, technically, but still—”  

Karsem’s discomfort was evident, but when Seolrang turned her back to Alon and stared at Karsem intently—  

“…Fine, fine! We’ll do it your way!”  

Karsem quickly changed his tune.  

“See, Master? It’s all set!”  

…Once again, Seolrang had made the impossible possible.  

About an hour later, Alon and Seolrang departed for the Marquisate of Merkilane, where Duke Komalon was reportedly heading.  

At the same time—  

“Marquis,” Evan called out.  

“Yes? What is it?”  

“Earlier, you mentioned being curious about what Seolrang did while her back was turned to you, right?”  

“That’s true, but why do you ask?”  

“I saw it.”  

“…When?”  

“While you were moving over to that spot, I happened to catch a glimpse.”  

“So, what did you see?”  

“Well… She didn’t make any particularly scary expressions, but she did whisper something.”  

“What did she say?”  

“Well, honestly, I didn’t hear it clearly from that distance, but I think it was something like…”  

After some hesitation, Evan finally replied,  

“…‘Has this guy forgotten who I am?’”  

“…Seolrang said that?”  

“Yeah—though, since I only saw it from far away, I might’ve misheard, but it seemed like something along those lines.”  

Hearing this, Alon froze for a moment, his expression turning blank.  

Although it was hard to believe, Karsem’s reaction lent credibility to the claim. Alon couldn’t quite shake the strange look on his face for a while.  

***

Filian Merkilane was undeniably a genius.  

Within Ashtalon, he was the youngest swordmaster in history and, even at his young age, one of the top three strongest warriors in the kingdom.  

Of course, he had recently faced Deus Maccalian, a being in a completely different league, but even so, Filian hadn’t been broken.  

Instead, the devastating defeat from that encounter became a stepping stone, spurring Filian to grow even faster in the past few months. His natural talent made such growth possible.  

Still, despite his determination not to give up, even after facing such overwhelming power, Filian now found himself learning—for the first time—what futility and despair felt like.  

“…Hah.”  

He stood with his back to his domain, staring at a harrowing sight.  

What stretched out before him was carnage.  

Corpses littered the landscape.  

A body with its upper half missing.  

Another, split cleanly in two.  

Yet another, riddled with deep slashes from head to toe.  

Limbs severed, leaving only a torso behind.  

It was a sea of corpses.  

Everywhere he looked, all he could see were corpses.  

Knights, soldiers, mages—it didn’t matter. Every figure in his sight was nothing more than a lifeless body.  

And before those corpses lay an inhuman hellscape.  

A massive patchwork monster, its body stitched together from human skin and its entire surface covered in faces, chewed on people with its grotesque teeth.  

An insect with the carapace of a gigantic beetle unfurled its enormous wings and slaughtered soldiers en masse.  

Elsewhere, a turtle-like creature, with a massive plant growing on its back adorned with limbs as if they were floral arrangements, sucked up crimson blood through its maw.  

Beyond them, other incomprehensible and unidentified Outer gods, things he had never seen in his life, wreaked havoc.  

They unleashed unfathomable deaths indiscriminately, taking the lives of everyone in sight.  

In this world of ash, where ominous and sinister red magic spread through the air—  

“…”  

Filian lowered his gaze.  

What he saw was his armor, ruined beyond recognition, his sword broken, and his right arm twisted at an impossible angle.  

Filian let out a quiet, bitter laugh before lifting his head to look ahead.  

“…This is just absurd…”  

At the end of his gaze stood Duke Komalon.  

The only figure among the Outer gods that retained a human appearance, he observed the scene with an emotionless expression, as if none of it affected him.  

…The one who was likely the root cause of all this.  

Boom! Boom!  

A deafening noise snapped Filian out of his thoughts. Turning forward, he saw the turtle-like creature with limbs for flowers closing in on him to claim his life.  

Slowly but surely, its heavy footsteps drew closer.  

Filian could only laugh bitterly.  

And then—  

“Brother! Run!”  

At the sudden shout, Filian glanced up at the castle wall.  

There stood soldiers, desperately clinging to their positions despite their terror. Among them was his younger brother, Gilan Merkilane, whose eyes were clouded with despair.  

And yet, even as despair consumed him, Gilan shouted,  

“Go! Escape! There’s still time! We’ll buy you whatever moments we can—just leave now and you can survive! Please, go!”  

Filian stared blankly for a moment before letting out a faint chuckle.  

Then, despite the pain, he rose to his feet. His body refused to move properly, but still, he stood. With his left hand, he gripped his broken sword.  

“Everyone, retreat! Abandon your weapons and escape through the north gate!”  

He shouted with all his might.  

“Brother!!!”  

Gilan’s voice echoed again, but Filian didn’t respond. Instead, he charged forward. His clever younger brother would understand his intent better than anyone.  

“Haah!”  

Filian mustered the last of his mana, forcing out an aura. It was pathetically weak, barely enough to scratch the skin of an Outer god.  

But for now, it would suffice.  

As he began to sprint forward, Filian’s lips curled into a grim smile.  

The odds of victory? 0%.  

He knew that all too well.  

But at this point, probabilities didn’t matter to him. His goal wasn’t to win.  

It was to buy just a little more time.  

Screeeech!  

With impeccable skill, Filian sliced through a barrage of petal-like projectiles made of arms and legs.  

Soon, he managed to slash through the Outer god’s leg, eliciting a screech of pain.  

Slash! Slash!  

He darted under the Outer god, inflicting wounds as he went.  

But his limit came far sooner than he’d hoped.  

Filian glanced down at his completely shattered sword and his legs, which refused to move. Then, he looked up.  

His vision was filled with the sight of hundreds of limbs hurtling toward him to claim his life.  

It was an unmistakable, inevitable death.  

And yet, even in that moment, Filian didn’t stop smiling.  

He showed no sign of despair.  

He just smiled.  

He believed that he had done the right thing.  

He believed that he had not given up.  

And so, as he calmly prepared to accept death—  

Crackle—!  

—A flash of light appeared.  

“?”  

Before he realized it, Filian found himself back in front of the castle wall he had charged away from earlier.  

At the same time, he saw it.  

—!!!!  

The massive Outer god that had been attacking him was now enveloped in a crimson mist of blood.  

And then—  

Crackle-crack!  

“A—”  

Before him stood a girl with golden hair billowing in the air.  

As soon as Filian realized this, he murmured a name without thinking.  

“Seolrang?”  

His gaze shifted to the figure standing beside her.  

There, next to the radiant golden flash that was Seolrang, stood a man clad in a gray coat. Black mana scattered around him like grains of sand dissolving into the air.  

The man—Marquis Palatio—looked down at Filian with a calm, emotionless expression.  

“Well done.”  

Leaving behind those brief words, the Marquis began to walk forward.  

—!!!  

In response to his small steps, the scattered Outer gods lunged toward him.  

Yet, the Marquis did not stop walking.  

One step.  

Then another.  

His steps were measured and steady.  

And then—  

“By the contract of Kalguneas, I command you.”  

Filian watched in awe as it unfolded before him.  

“Comrade, manifest yourself.”  

KRRRAAAAAAAAH!!!  

With the Marquis’s incantation, an enormous serpent materialized, raising a storm of dust and a deafening roar.  

—!!!!!  

Unlike the artificial Outer gods created through unholy methods, this was something entirely different.  

It was a genuine divine being, empowered by true faith and imbued with divinity.  

Towering over all the synthetic Outer gods present, its presence was overwhelming.  

And so, Filian witnessed the descent of Basiliora, the divine serpent, who stood as the true deity amidst the false creations.  

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep