Kalt in the game was strong.
Even though he was set as the weakest among the Masters, he was crazily powerful.
Still… the first phase of Kalt was manageable.
Sure, the absurd health bar was a problem, but the attack patterns weren’t difficult.
Of course, it was a problem that one hit could leave you in a near-death state.
But that doesn’t apply to seasoned players like me, so let’s skip that.
A handful of us veterans could defeat Kalt in the first phase.
Yeah.
You could win that phase thousands, even tens of thousands of times.
I literally lost count of how many times I won.
The problem was phase two.
When Kalt’s health drops to 20%, an animation plays.
It shows Kalt stabbing a sword into his own heart and screaming for the goddess.
The goddess, answering his call, grants him power in exchange for his lifespan.
With that power, Kalt tears open the sky with just a wave of his hand.
And beyond that torn sky, a black sun appears.
With that, phase two begins, and countless shadow tentacles rush at you.
There’s nowhere to dodge.
You have to parry them all.
What about mages, you ask?
A cowardly mage just dies.
Or they might parry with their staff.
Anyway.
Up, left, right, right, diagonally up right, down, below, up, diagonal down left.
You had to memorize it like that.
Just like the periodic table or 3.14… whatever.
Yeah… if you manage to memorize hundreds of directions and somehow figure out this crazy pattern,
Then comes the hellish attacks.
Shadows begin to blanket the area, and health starts to drain by 3% per second.
It feels like the sword and shadows are moving frame by frame towards the player.
Well… health can be restored with potions.
And you can avoid nonsensical attacks with various invulnerabilities and tricks.
Because it’s a game.
But the problem wasn’t Kalt’s attacks.
The biggest issue was…
Attacks don’t do a thing to him.
Physical attacks, magic, even abilities imbued with divine power from the priest, summons—none of it hits.
It was already absurd trying to approach Kalt while dodging thousands of tentacles and wildly swinging swords…
But even if you get through all the patterns and reach Kalt,
The fact that attacks don’t land brought despair to many players.
There were even rumors that if phase two’s Kalt fought Jong-eon, Kalt would win.
In the end, some users left questions for the admin.
Could a player defeat Kalt?
There was no reply.
It was the first time.
The admin didn’t respond to a player’s question.
After that, a user left a speculative post.
Someone suggested that if Kalt dies, there might be an ending where the shaman survives.
That post struck a chord with many veterans, and dozens of us, myself included, challenged Kalt once more.
And then, just once.
Out of thousands of attempts, it happened just one time.
My character managed to chip away at Kalt’s health.
Just 1%, but… it was a success.
I replayed the recorded video, over and over.
Dozens of times.
Finally, I figured it out.
To chip away at health and beat phase two’s Kalt,
The method was…
whirr
crash
I fended off thousands of tentacles before me and rolled backward to escape.
Tens of tentacles erupted from the ground where I just stood.
I charged forward again, slashing at the attacking tentacles to close the distance.
Sometimes I used the great sword as a support stick.
Twisting my body with blood aura.
Just taking hits while advancing.
Now, the shadow of Carpen’s will looms over me, threatening to swallow me.
But every time, I recall Rubia being trampled by Kalt, pulling myself together.
I hear the sound of flesh tearing.
My hearing and touch come back to life.
Guts mixed with blood burst out from inside me.
My sense of taste returns.
The metallic scent of blood floods my nostrils.
My sense of smell is stimulated.
My blurry mind gets sharpened.
Forty meters ahead.
I unleash my blood aura, resisting the swirling shadows around me.
I plant my feet firmly, stretching out my arm to fend off the incoming shadows.
Thirty meters.
I accelerate by using the recoil of the great sword.
Delos strikes with his body.
Tearing into the shadows.
Biting through them as I advance.
Ten meters.
My arm gets pierced.
My movements are restricted.
I twist and break it.
Peeling off the skin, I run.
Five meters.
Just two steps forward.
I polish my sense of touch to the limit.
Erasing useless information.
I clear away the shadows shooting up from the ground.
I wipe away the tentacles raining down from the sky.
Nothing else matters.
Only receive Kalt’s information.
Behind the skin.
Inside the muscle.
Within the blood vessels.
Filling my body with shadows instead of blood and magic.
I draw, accept, and comprehend.
Memories of the past come to mind.
I awaken my senses.
The shadows twist.
Flowing through my veins.
Spreading throughout my body.
My heart contracts.
My muscles tighten.
My skin stretches.
My waist turns.
My arm rises.
Through that arm,
The shadows are launched.
Now.
I absorb the shadows with my body, swinging the great sword.
A strike filled without power.
I don’t feel the cut.
There’s no sensation of it getting caught.
But.
SWISH
I struck.
In that moment of attack,
As Kalt’s body made of shadows fixed its form,
I cut down that rare 0.2-second window where I could land a hit.
Blood bursts from Kalt’s waist.
The thirst persists.
Kalt’s expression twists in horror.
The corners of my mouth lift.
Blood spurts out between the raised corners.
My body nearly dried up with blood surging out.
But Carpen’s will refused to let me die.
Using my blood as nourishment, the blood aura moves.
The blood aura supports my collapsing body.
I rise again.
I slice, fend off, and brush aside the tentacles.
I increased the distance.
Closed it again.
Dodged.
And charged back in to strike.
Blood droplets rise into the air.
Could it be my blood?
Or Kalt’s blood?
Since the thirst remains, Kalt’s blood is likely mixed in, huh?
That’s the second one.
Eighteen more to go.
Then I win.
Slashing through the shadows, I sliced the tentacles rushing in from all sides.
My body’s wounds grew.
The swirling blood aura intensified.
What will happen when the thirst is quenched?
Will I live, or will I die?
Will it hurt, or will it not?
I have no idea.
I’ve decided to stop thinking.
Gave up.
Win or lose.
Either way, dying will be the same.
So I just accepted it.
I stood up.
I moved forward.
This isn’t some hero’s mindset to save Charlotte and Yuria.
No justice to save the world or slay the villains.
I’m just…
Driven by the desire to win against the opponent before me.
The enemy I could never beat in eight years.
I want to beat him.
What no one has succeeded at.
I want to be the first to succeed.
Have I gone crazy from Carpen’s will?
I don’t care.
If I can just defeat that bastard.
If I can kill him.
If I can change the ending of this story with my own strength.
I could get wrecked a hundred, thousands of times.
“This is insane!”
Kalt’s roar echoes.
The shadows that covered the sky pour down on me.
They rain down like a deluge, each drop carrying a deadly energy.
I ignored it.
My body gets pierced through.
I kept advancing.
Fingers shattered completely.
Thick blood aura becomes my hand.
I cut.
That’s the eighth.
Twelve more to go.
“You’re nothing. A beast lesser than any. How dare you try to match yourself with her!”
The tearing sound pierced my eardrums as my body flew through the air.
I soared several meters and crashed to the ground.
Without delay, I got up.
My staggering body is supported by the blood aura.
It acts in place of me.
But with that,
It takes even more of my blood.
My consciousness, my very existence,
It tries to swallow me whole.
I raised a finger.
Pierced my eardrum.
No more sound is needed.
It’s just a distraction.
Shaking off the blood from my fingertip, I gripped the great sword tightly.
Here we go again.
I kicked the ground and dove into the unyielding shadows.
Drawing the optimal path, I swung the great sword.
No deviation of 0.1 seconds.
Any small graze or moment’s pause would have thousands of shadows engulf me.
No time to rest, I had to keep moving.
I twisted the great sword, swung it, and scattered it.
Drawing a full moon, I carved out space.
I extended my legs and stood.
Raising my arm, I swung the great sword,
Stepping into the shadows as I struck.
I didn’t hold my breath and held onto life.
If the great sword wasn’t enough, I wielded the blood aura.
If the blood aura ran out, I reached my hand to block.
If there weren’t enough hands, I would use my teeth.
If my teeth weren’t enough, I would use my body.
If even that was not enough, I would scatter blood droplets.
I fended off the shadows.
Broke through.
Overcame.
I reached Kalt.
And then, I swung.
Again and again.
Kalt’s expression twisted despairingly.
The depths of the shadows thickened.
The movement of the blood aura slowed down.
My body grew heavy.
With my nails, I tore through the skin.
Blood burst forth.
Again.
The blood aura thickened.
My body felt lighter.
And then, I struck again.
Five more to go.
I can see the end.
The final one is in sight.
My mind begins to blur.
I want to see Rubia.
Wrapped in her arms, smelling her scent,
I want to sleep.
At the very last moment,
Will Rubia hold me?
I hope she sees me win.
And smiles with victory.
What will we do tomorrow?
What will we eat?
How will she scold me?
I want to chatter about those trivial tomorrows.
So…
Let’s go again.
Let’s go and finish this fight.
And rescue Rubia.
I lifted my unbearably heavy feet.
Dodging the shadows pouring down on me, I cut, slashed, and fended them off.
I let loose and advanced.
Forward, forward.
Continuously.
And…
I raised my faltering arm.
I struck Kalt.
In that moment,
My right arm got severed.
I lost the great sword.
My sense of touch dims.
Nothing is coming into view.
No more thirst could be felt.
There’s just one left.
Just one more contact.
It could be my fingertip, my tooth, a fragment of my bone.
If I just make contact.
An indescribable pain crumbles my consciousness.
It halts my body.
It freezes my thoughts.
Offering up surrender,
It demands death.
No.
No way.
Please.
Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please.
Move.
Move.
Advance forward.
Pierce Kalt’s heart.
Kill him.
And rescue Rubia.
Endure.
Even if it hurts, hold on.
I can endure.
I took a step.
I lunged forward.
My body crumbled.
I began to crawl.
I supported myself on my elbow.
I began to break down.
Using my elbow,
My shoulder kept me propped up.
I crawled.
Digging my teeth into the ground, I crawled forward.
My teeth broke and fell out.
With my gums, my jaw, my forehead,
I crawled forward.
Sharp sensations constricting my body,
Piercing, slicing through me.
No more.
I cannot advance further.
My throat twisted painfully.
At the same time,
From the ground, something stirring,
What felt like a root from a tree surfaced.
It wrapped around my body and lifted me up.
The warm heat
Warms my chilled body.
A gentle energy
Supports me.
I reached for my remaining arm.
A hand deeply calloused
Offers me a sword.
It is not a great sword.
Not a branch.
It’s ordinary.
Worn out.
Shabby and pathetic.
But.
It was a single-handed sword that had sliced through the world.
The roots supporting my body breathe life into me.
The searing heat prevents me from succumbing to death.
The warm energy
Lifts my arm high.
With a slight smile,
I wielded the sword.
