Chapter 39: Hope is the Greatest Form of Despair [1]

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“All of you, come out…”

Louis swiftly summoned even more reinforcements. Dozens of Chimeric Zombies and a towering Skeleton emerged, catching Zorba by surprise that he still possessed them.

“Zorba, you can take their souls if they die… As for you, big guy, combine with my wings.”

“GROOOHH!”

The giant Skeleton fused with Louis’ skeletal wings through the Undead Fusion Spell Zorba had taught him. In moments, Louis gained six skeletal wings instead of two, along with reinforced bone armor.

“Oho! To think you can perform such a wondrous feat! You’ve become a piece of art yourself, Master Louis!”

“Shut up and take this seriously!”

“I am.”

“If you are not going to accept salvation…”

“I might as well just kill you, Prince Louis…”

“Yes. Just die.”

Soma abandoned any pretense of persuasion with startling speed. He charged from every direction. Each clone wielded his Spells—conjuring black chains, black stakes, abyssal hands, and crimson eyes that fired beams of intensified pain in red light.

Louis and Zorba battled fiercely against the endless clones. Each one lacked the full strength of the original body, possessing only enhanced durability layered over the vessel’s base resilience.

Yet they retained access to all his abilities, including Damage Transfer.

Thus, every time one perished…

“Ugh?!”

“Agh!”

Louis and Zorba absorbed portions of the damage, forcing them to rethink their approach. Brute force would only destroy them.

“Soma created this army of clones to spread Damage Transfer everywhere and trick us into killing ourselves…!” Louis growled. “Zorba, attack indirectly!”

“How do I do that?!” Zorba demanded. “My zombies are gone…”

“Wield the souls of the dead! Use the stones beneath our feet, possess them temporarily, and create golems if you must! Burn your brain and make something out of what you have!” Louis roared.

“Ahhh! Right!” Zorba grinned fiercely. He kicked the ground hard, shattering stone into countless fragments that soared upward. Souls flowed into them, animating the debris with ghostly energy. “Go!”

The ghostly boulders plummeted onto the clones, crushing them. Zorba no longer suffered Damage Transfer. Meanwhile, Louis adapted the same principle to his own body. Already merged with the Graveborn, he could not call on its transformation without weakening himself drastically.

Instead, he tore pieces from his bone armor and wings. They regenerated instantly using Fantasium and Ghostly Energy. He possessed the fragments with Enslaved Souls, transforming them into Living Bone Spears that he hurled at the clones.

On impact, the spears impaled their targets and erupted into Ashen Frost, freezing and shattering them completely. Though the spears perished, Louis retrieved the Enslaved Souls and reused them in fresh spears while harvesting the souls of the fallen. Both he and Zorba constantly exchanged Enslaved Souls, shattering the Ability’s usual limits.

“Where are you hiding, Soma?!”

Louis roared, directing the spears to impale more clones. The clones quickly retreated, realizing their strategy had been dismantled by Louis’ quick thinking.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

Suddenly, the clones halted at a safe distance. Their constant smiles vanished.

Indeed, Soma had finally stopped smiling.

The clones opened their mouths and released beams of black light skyward. Every beam connected, forming a vast network as Louis and Zorba stared in confusion.

“What is he trying to do now?!” Zorba shouted.

“I don’t know but kill the clones—now!” Louis ordered.

They resumed their assault, yet whatever Soma intended only intensified. The sky trembled and darkened into a spiraling circle of pitch-black miasma.

“A Formation?!”

Pekorine looked upward in panic. The Soma she and her group fought was on its last legs, disintegrating into black miasma and revealing no true body had ever been present.

Somehow, at some point, Soma had concealed himself during the battle…

“Where…! How did this bastard…?!” Tisha muttered.

“Likely when you cut him in two…” Mirai said. “I remember a large portion was left behind, but the second half regenerated…”

“So that’s it?!” Tisha roared. “Damn it! Where is he?!”

Tisha closed her eyes and expanded her Mana Aura.

At the same moment, above the skies, Gustaf and Helena linked their consciousnesses to Tisha, Pekorine, Mirai, Louis, Zorba, and Catrise.

“All of you, gather quickly! He’s below!” Gustaf warned.

“I closed the Dimensional Rift, but he’s trying to reopen it!” Helena added.

“Are you kidding me?!” Tisha snapped.

“No way…!” Catrise cried.

“Then what is he trying to achieve with that?!” Pekorine demanded.

“Most likely…!” Helena murmured. “He’s aiming to reopen the rift and summon the Abyssal Mother anyway—even without a Sinner—wait!”

“He’s using the Sinners here as ingredients; that’s why the formation is in the sky!” Gustaf said. “Louis, Zorba, Mirai—get out of there!”

“Are you kidding me?! After all this time…!”

Louis burned with fury. His white hair flared into white flames. Being told to flee just when victory seemed possible ignited unbearable rage.

But as a prince, he knew he could not place his pride above his kingdom’s safety.

“Mirai, come!”

“Y-Yes!”

Mirai flew to him. Louis carried Zorba with his skeletal tail as they soared upward.

Seeing them escape, Gustaf nodded. He seized the massive projectile meant to crush Zorba and pointed downward.

“Zorba, stop hiding!”

RUMBLE!

The ground beneath lifted entirely, exposing the sewers below. Tisha’s expanding consciousness located him instantly.

“I got him!”

Without hesitation, she leaped into the sewers and raced forward, freezing everything in her path. Pekorine conjured a counter-formation at the same time, summoning hundreds of elemental spirits that clashed against the pitch-black formation in the sky, struggling fiercely.

“Pinpoint his location for us, Tisha!” Gustaf commanded.

“We’ll finish him with one strike!” Helena roared.

Both poured more and more power into their charge. It was now or never.

Meanwhile, Louis, Mirai, and Zorba faced their own ordeal.

“A damn barrier?! Seriously?!”

Louis seethed. A wall of black miasma enclosed the area around the growing formation built from hundreds of Soma’s clones.

“We’re trapped inside!” Zorba shouted.

“Can’t we break through if we work together?” Mirai asked.

“It’s the only option left! Raise your Auras! Go all-out! Even if it costs your life force—do it without hesitation!” Louis roared.

White, black, and red auras erupted from Louis, Zorba, and Mirai, merging into a vortex of pure Spiral Energy that took the shape of a spear—Louis’ own Ashen Frost Spear, which he positioned at the forefront.

“I won’t let you escape, my precious Sinners!”

Soma laughed maniacally. Countless clones appeared along the miasmic wall—mostly upper torsos—pointing hands studded with red eyes and firing weakening beams.

At the same time, Abyssal Hands emerged, pushing back against their spiraling charge. Curses born from the pain of billions seeped into their bodies, covering them in black runes.

“Nnnggh…! Don’t…! Stop pushing!”

Louis screamed as his Aura surged. The Dragon Fang Spearmanship and Holy Lance Style fused once more. His spear blazed with the radiance of his mother.

“Holy Dragon Lance Style.”

“Second Form!”

“Celestial Claw!”

His Aura transformed into Benladra’s holy claw, piercing the miasma and burning it with boundless light. He finally inherited and wielded a fragment of her true techniques.

RUMBLE!

The wall trembled. The trio advanced, reaching midway. But Soma panicked. He manipulated the miasma to force them back, constantly drawing power from his Grimoire.

He was struggling. Ambushed and surrounded by the kingdom’s strongest, he had no regrets. Flexibility defined him—if one plan failed, he moved to the next.

No ordinary person reached Tier 4 as a Spiralwalker without such adaptability.

“The Formation will soon be complete; I shall employ the enlightened souls to—Aha.”

But just as he neared completion, he sensed two presences. One above disrupted his formation with another. A formation designed to resist Psychic Power was still affected.

“That rabbit-eared woman…”

He clicked his tongue, using his own blood to complete another node. He tossed Children of the Painless Abyss into it one by one.

The second presence approached rapidly, freezing everything in its path.

He looked toward it. Tisha charged forward, her body covered in bruises and wounds, yet utterly relentless.

“I have to admit it—even after constant damage from my attacks and what I transferred to you—you’re incredibly tough. Why not join the cult? I’m sure our Mother would find a wonderful place for you in our cradle.”

“SOMA!!!”

Tisha ignored him completely. She roared and leaped, swinging her frost blade. The Intent of the Dragon King manifested—a small fragment, all she could summon in this world where he held no authority, yet enough to unleash catastrophe. A giant frozen claw tore through the sewers, freezing and shattering everything.

BOOOM!

A massive crater split the Nameless Streets and part of the Capital. Even the Ice Wall collapsed in sections.

“Hahaha! The one who wields the Dragon King’s ice as a blade—you are indeed commendable, woman.”

Soma smiled warmly as he clashed with her, evading her swordsmanship and striking her body dozens of times. His palms glowed with black energy, inflicting tremendous agony. Her wounds worsened; blood poured from everywhere.

“GAAAHHH!”

Yet Tisha refused to yield. She roared and drove her sword through his stomach, confirming this was the real body. He immediately tried to split his torso and escape, leaving the lower half as a clone.

“Not so fast, you son of a bitch!”

The Dragon King’s Ice proved strong enough to hold him. It slowly began to freeze his form.

“Nnnggh!”

Soma clenched his teeth and released his dark aura, overpowering the ice and beginning to overwrite it. His hands divided into dozens of abyssal limbs that pummeled Tisha relentlessly.

“Let go of me!”

“No! I won’t! GUSTAF! HELENA!!!”

Tisha screamed, wrapping her entire Divine Mana Aura around Soma to immobilize him. Gustaf and Helena unleashed their psychic power upon him. Together they hurled the massive sphere of concentrated energy and rubble downward.

“Wait! Tisha! Run!” Pekorine cried.

“It’s fine!” Tisha shouted. “I can take this much!”

“No…! Wait!” Pekorine screamed as her formation wavered.

“P-Pekorine! Please don’t let go of the formation!” Catrise pleaded, struggling alongside the priests and magicians to maintain it.

That fleeting hesitation gave Soma his chance. As the sphere loomed above, he smiled, clasped his hands, and raised them skyward.

“Oh Mother! Thank you! Thank you for gracing us with your presence!!!”

He laughed as the sky quaked and the ground split open.

Space and time warped. The sealed Dimensional Rift tore open under the grip of a gigantic black hand covered in red eyes.

The hand alone distorted reality. The sewers and ruins transformed into an endless nest of weeping darkness.

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