On the battlefield’s edge, cloaked in the eerie silence that stretched between clashes and carnage, Song Woo-Ji stood rigid.

He felt the weight of his duty pressing down on his back as he stared at the portal his master’s master, the middle-aged woman, had conjured.

Its swirling colors pulsed with a tantalizing promise of safety, its glow a silent invitation to leave, to escape to a world unburdened by bloodshed and terror.

However, something heavier than fear gripped him—guilt.

It was like having swarm of flesh eating bugs at his insides, demanding he turn away from that portal, yet he could barely tear his gaze from it.

His breaths came in shallow, ragged draws.

He was alive because of his master’s quick actions and, though he was a system user, he hadn’t even used his trump card.

A skill he had reserved for the worst case, hidden deep within him, an option he had hoped he would never have to use. His mind buzzed with indecision as he whispered to himself, “Should I… should I use it?”

The words were barely a breath, and he clamped his mouth shut, as though speaking aloud might shatter the final slivers of his resolve.

The portal flickered, and in its heart, he glimpsed a distant city street bathed in peaceful, golden light—a quiet promise of respite.

Then, as if to mock his hesitation, a faint chime echoed in his ears, chilling and unbidden:

Ding!

|| Would you like to use the DEATH MONARCH STATE? ||

Song Woo-Ji froze, his mind spiraling as he felt the screen’s ominous glow settle before his vision.

His fingers trembled, his thumb hovering over the choice, though he hesitated to press it.

He drew in a deep breath, held it, then exhaled slowly.

Below, in the heart of chaos, the monster horde leader was unstoppable as he surged forward, with a tidal wave of raw fury tearing across the buildings.

He didn’t slow, even as the middle-aged woman and Bong Me-Eon stood defiantly in his path.

Volk’s stride was unstoppable, each footfall sending seismic tremors through the earth that thundered with his approach.

THOOM! THOOM! THOOM!

Bong Me-Eon and her master exchanged a single glance—a pact formed in that one look.

The middle-aged woman’s hand shot up, weaving intricate sigils in the air.

As her fingers moved, pale green lights swirled, coalescing into a whip of necrotic energy that crackled through the air like a whip.

CRACK!

It lashed out, striking Volk across the chest with an explosive burst of dark magic. But Volk barely acknowledged it.

With a growl of annoyance, “GRAAAAAARRGGHH!!” he swatted the spell aside, and the whip dispersed into harmless wisps that evaporated in the air.

Bong Me-Eon wasn’t deterred.

She spread her arms, summoning a rain of searing firebolts that burst around Volk like an inferno.

Each impact shook the ground, casting plumes of flame that seemed to consume his massive form. But as the smoke cleared, Volk remained standing, his skin barely singed.

He grinned, and there was a feral gleam of madness sparking in his eyes as he pressed forward, ignoring their spells like mere raindrops.

Song Woo-Ji could see the fierce determination in his master’s movements, and yet, his fear festered.

His gaze lingered on the safe street beyond the portal, the quiet life he could slip away into. But his master’s battle cries echoed across the battlefield, anchoring him in place.

Then, the silence broke as Volk’s thunderous voice reverberated across the plains, sending chills down his spine.

His words were guttural, deep, primal, each syllable laced with fury as he finally addressed the retreating pair.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE VOLK! YOU THINK HIDING IN SHADOWS SAVE YOU?”

Volk’s voice boomed, his fists pounding against his chest with each declaration, sounding like massive drums.

“VOLK WILL FIND YOU. EVEN IF YOU HIDE BEHIND MOUNTAINS, IN DEEPEST CAVES! VOLK WILL BURN VILLAGES, SMASH YOUR CASTLES, TURN YOUR FIELDS TO ASH!”

The middle-aged woman and Bong Me-Eon exchanged a look, and she began to gather her energy again, casting another complex spell.

Dark clouds rolled overhead, forming in response to her summoning. With a sweep of her hand, bolts of dark lightning rained down on Volk.

KRA-KOOM!

The lightning struck him square in the chest, sending waves of necrotic energy rippling across his body.

Yet he pressed on, undeterred, his face twisted in a cruel smile as he shrugged off each blow with terrifying ease.

His eyes narrowed, his attention snapping toward the distant figure of Song Woo-Ji.

He raised his voice again, aiming it directly at the young system user as if sensing his fear.

“AND YOU—SYSTEM USER. YOU THINK YOU CAN ESCAPE VOLK’S WRATH? I KNOW YOUR KIND! LITTLE MEN HIDING BEHIND THEIR TOYS! YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM VOOOOLK!!!”

The words rattled Song Woo-Ji to his core.

How did Volk know?

How did he know he was a system user?

The raw, venomous hatred in Volk’s voice slashed through Song Woo-Ji’s soul, ripping at the delicate veil of safety he had wrapped around himself.

He stepped back instinctively, his body’s natural instinct for survival urging him to flee.

But Volk wasn’t finished. He pointed toward the sky, his bellow echoing across the battlefield, louder than the thunder that rumbled above.

“VOLK BREAK CITIES! TEAR DOWN TOWERS! VOLK TURN YOUR PEOPLE TO ASH, ONE BY ONE, UNTIL YOU HAVE NOWHERE LEFT TO HIDE FROM VOOOLK’S WRATH!!!”

Bong Me-Eon and the middle-aged woman fought to stop his approach, but it was no use.

Every spell, every weapon, every shield they threw in his way crumbled under the relentless force of his might.

He would brush their attacks aside or endure them, shrugging off blows that would have leveled armies.

It was as though he were fueled by pure hatred, a walking storm that tore through everything in its path.

And with every step closer he came, Song Woo-Ji’s resolve began to waver.

He stared into the depths of the portal, a silent temptation calling him back to safety. But Volk’s voice haunted him, taunting, threatening, seething with the promise of destruction.

He could see, in vivid clarity, the horrors that would follow if he ran—his homeland burning, innocents torn asunder, cities crumbling beneath the unstoppable wrath of this monster.

Sweat poured down his face, his hands trembling as he clutched his weapon.

His gaze flickered toward the portal again, and then back to the advancing figure of Volk, who smashed through the battlefield as if it were a mere playground.

Then, Volk spoke again, his voice dripping with malice:

“YOU CAN RUN, SYSTEM USER. BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE FROM VOLK FOREVER. VOLK WILL FIND EVERY CITY, EVERY LAND, UNTIL BREATHE LAST UNDER VOLK’S FOOT! VOLK WILL NOT REST. VOLK NOT STOP!”

His final shout shook the heavens:

“VOLK MUST END SYSTEM USER!”

The threat was a sledgehammer against Song Woo-Ji’s final vestiges of doubt.

He felt something shift within him, a steel resolve rising where fear had taken root. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and steadied himself.

In that single moment of silence, he allowed himself to fully comprehend what stood before him—a monster who would stop at nothing, a beast who would hunt him to the ends of the earth if he ran.

Running meant condemning the innocent to Volk’s wrath.

He knew that now.

His eyes snapped open, alight with determination.

The portal still glowed faintly in his periphery, its invitation still there. But he did not turn toward it.

His grip on his weapon tightened, and he looked out over the battlefield where his master fought valiantly to buy him time. And now, his heart no longer wavered.

The choice was made.

Volk continued to storm forward, unaware of the newfound resolve building within Song Woo-Ji.

This time, as he watched Volk, it was not with fear but with grim resolve.

The decision was made.

He would stand and fight.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep