The moment dozens of arrows stopped in midair, the old man doubted his own eyes.
Magic?
No. That couldn’t be.
Mages and warriors shared the same root—mana—but their trunks and branches grew in entirely different directions.
That was why a Spellblade was considered as impossible as the coexistence of mana and magical power. Perhaps even more so.
But if it isn’t magic, how…?
The old man had long since reached the realm of the superhuman.
In his youth, he had ranged across battlefields amid the turbulent politics of the Middle East, protecting his tribe. Then, as the Great Cataclysm began in his middle age, he awakened to a power he had never known existed.
Even without accepting magical power, he would have been strong enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with the heroes of the Great Cataclysm.
That made what he was seeing all the harder to believe.
There was a clear, undeniable limit to what a warrior like him could move using mana.
And those are arrows. Dozens of them, fired from close range.
The unit waiting in the rear was made up of elite troops he had personally trained—swords and shields he had saved for the most crucial moment.
Yet the arrows those very troops had loosed had been stopped.
No—they were under control.
Dozens of arrows, shot with tremendous force and filled with mana, controlled by a single gesture.
Whoooosh.
The air stopped. The wind, thick with the stench of blood, vanished.
In that space where everything else seemed to have disappeared like a desert mirage, the wave of steel pouring toward one man turned.
Swish.
Dozens of arrowheads glinted in the darkness, their mana still intact. They pointed toward the men who had shot them. And…
“Wow. It actually worked.”
They were ready to obey the will of their new master.
Jin Taekyung.
The old man stared at the young man smiling beneath a coating of blood and clenched his teeth without meaning to.
A groan slipped through his bloodless lips.
“Th-This is…!”
What is this? What have you done?
He wanted to ask, but the young man did not wait for an old fool blinded by false faith to find his words.
“Refund, you fucking bastard.”
Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh!
A fierce whistle of air shattered the silence. Hundreds of fanatics surrounding them watched the unbelievable sight with vacant eyes.
As if an invisible giant had drawn a bowstring, dozens of steel arrows came raining down, faster and harder than before.
All aimed at one man.
The old commander-in-chief who led the fanatics.
“Block—!”
Boom!
The unfinished shout vanished beneath a small explosion.
A sword swung to knock the arrows aside flew into the air, along with its wielder’s arm.
“Gaaah!”
The scream came a moment later. Then dozens of streaks of light swept in, cutting through and smashing everything in their path.
Grit.
The metallic taste of blood filled the old man’s mouth.
He had bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood without noticing. He brought down his scimitar, unleashing a murky force of mingled magical power and mana.
Whoooooom!
The immense wind pressure rushing off the blade pushed back the arrows flying in from the front.
Jin Taekyung had been surrounded, forced to face arrows coming from every direction. The old man, by contrast, had fanatics around him willing to die to stop the arrows.
Perhaps that was why he stepped forward at once, turning to the offensive. Why he trusted the dozens of followers surrounding him like shields.
The next moment, that trust vanished.
Whish.
At the faint whistle of air, the old man’s eyes widened.
Arrows were flying toward him, weaving around the fanatics as though they were alive.
This is impossible…!
A cry like a scream rose to his tongue, then disappeared. No—he wasn’t even given time to let it out.
He sucked in a breath and swung his scimitar. As streaks of light filled the air around him, he knew.
Damn it.
Unlike Jin Taekyung, he could not escape this attack.
Crack!
Arrows caught in the scimitar’s path bent and broke.
But even the old man, who had reached the superhuman realm, could not deflect or dodge them all.
Thud-thud-thud!
“Guh!”
Blood spilled through his clenched teeth. His vision blurred, and pain struck all through his body.
Ribs. Legs. Chest. Back.
He felt arrowheads pierce armor and flesh and shatter bone. The heat they carried seeped deep into his organs.
“Cough.”
His once-sturdy legs trembled. As the old man staggered, more than ten arrows buried deep in his body, the fanatics supporting him shouted like they were screaming in despair.
“No!”
“Amir! Amir! Please, stay with us!”
“What are you waiting for? Get him somewhere safe!”
The fanatics, finally grasping what had happened, were more shaken than ever.
If the Doppelganger, calling itself the Prophet, was their spiritual pillar, the old man was the warrior chief favored by God—the general who led them.
A voice pierced their ears like a spike.
“Who said you could?”
“……!”
“……!”
The shock hit like a bucket of cold water.
Heavy footsteps advanced.
“I asked you. Who said you could move?”
The voice was low. The face above it was worn with fatigue.
But the fanatics stepping backward without realizing it saw none of that. In their wide eyes, there was only one thing:
The flames flickering in his gaze.
“Did all you bastards eat a load of dates together? Not one of you can answer me.”
His blood-crusted lips twitched. Jin Taekyung smiled and reached out, and an immense, invisible force pressed down on the space around them.
No—it ruled it.
Hssssss.
The air stopped. The wind scattered.
Jin Taekyung felt an intangible force welling up from his chest, from his Middle Dantian.
Everything within a radius of dozens of meters1 already belonged to him. The hundreds of fanatics staring at him in shock were invaders. Demons defiling not just this land, but the entire world.
No. To you, I’m the demon.
Jin Taekyung looked down at the frozen fanatics with disgust.
He did not want to kill them. He only wanted peace.
He was no Killing Ghost, forever thirsting for blood. Whenever another Hunter who had united with the others under one banner for the sake of the world fell, he felt pain and sorrow.
But…
In the end, this too was a struggle for each side’s purpose.
To gain peace, they had to wage war. And in that war, rivers of blood and death would flow.
There was no other choice.
“It’s too late to turn back now. For me and for you.”
As Jin Taekyung’s quiet voice rang out—
Rooooom.
The still air and wind stirred again.
At that same moment, the old man got back to his feet. Magical power had given him a recovery beyond anything human, but waiting for him was a mass of steel filling the air.
“This is…”
He could not finish. No one could have.
All they could do was stare.
Spears. Sabers. Swords. Axes. Countless arrows and fragments of broken blades.
The wave of steel had left its dead former owners behind and taken a new master. It surged through the air, cold edges glinting as each weapon turned toward its target.
At the center of it all stood Jin Taekyung.
“Any last words?”
The old man sighed at the impossible sight. A murky force, neither monster nor human, overflowed from the scimitar in his hand.
“Inshallah.”
May it be God’s will.
With that prayer ringing in his heart, the old man stepped forward alone.
He left behind his followers, paralyzed with fear and waiting for death. He went forward with the duty and pride of a warrior chosen by God.
And yet, why?
Is this—is this really what God wanted?
For the first time, the old man who had believed in God and the Prophet more than anyone felt doubt.
But even now, as he charged like a streak of light and watched the rain of steel pour from the sky, brimming with lava-hot mana, he couldn’t find an answer.
Answer me. Is this truly the promised land you spoke of?
But the old man’s god did not answer.
It never had, from the distant past until now. And it seemed it never would.
Only a faint voice reached his ears. He could not tell whether it belonged to a god or a demon.
“Die, old man.”
Fwoooosh!
A gale swept through. A wave of steel, falling in place of damp rain, swallowed him.
As his body and power—part monster, part human—were smashed to pieces, the old man heard a terrible scream echoing faintly.
“Gaaah!”
His vision darkened. His consciousness scattered. The warriors of God met their brutal end.
Ah.
At last, he knew the answer to his question.
This was not the promised land. It was the land of death.
Thud.
His lifeless body crumpled to the ground.
Though he had found the answer in his final moment, the old man’s face was twisted with anger and disbelief.
It happened in an instant.
Weapons swinging at one another stopped in midair. Shouts forced from hoarse throats cut off.
Every head turned in the same direction.
Fwaaaash!
It was a roar and a scream at once.
A scream of steel raining through the air. And a scream of terror from people who sensed their own deaths.
Kwaaaang!
Dust billowed upward. Through sand surging like a whirlwind, streams of blood spurted like fountains.
Splash—splat!
Dozens of meters1 away, fanatics stared blankly at the sight and blinked.
Blood rained onto their heads and ran down in sticky streams, along with something hard and something soft.
It did not take long to realize what had fallen on them: human bone and flesh.
“Ah… ah…”
Their hands and feet trembled. The clatter of teeth spread among the fanatics like an epidemic.
They all knew that carefully chosen elite troops had been waiting in the far rear with the commander-in-chief, ready to join the fight.
Now that was a fact of the past.
Annihilation.
Everyone on the battlefield understood instinctively.
No one could survive the storm of steel raging there.
No—there was one person who could.
Jin Taekyung.
As the name surfaced in every mind—
Kwaaaaa.
The whirlwind slowly settled. Within it, someone’s silhouette wavered like heat haze.
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