Chapter 76 : False Goddess (7)

Indeed, it was a cutting power close to absolute.  

But its durability wasn’t particularly strong. 

To be precise, it was unstable. 

Even I could cut it down in a single strike. 

However, the real issue wasn’t the cutting power but Lævateinn’s melting effect.  

Even with the protective magic of the ancient Grimoire, I could feel my skin melting from the heat alone. 

Let alone a weapon, there was nothing in this world that could remain intact after coming into direct contact with that.  

But if it was a legendary weapon protected by magic, it could withstand it for at least one second. 

And one second was enough for Monica to cut down the flaming sword. 

All of this was concluded in less than a second.  

The Sword of Glory, which had been with her for a lifetime—no, now just the hilt of the Sword of Glory—was thrown aside as Monica quickly drew another weapon. 

True to her title as the Hero of Might, she was a master of all weapons.  

In fact, her hobby was collecting weapons. 

Her personal space was filled with legendary weapons she had gathered over her lifetime. 

The first ones she drew were a mace and an axe, which she didn’t particularly like.  

Boom! Crash!!  

The sound of explosions echoed as the flaming swords clashed. 

In that brief moment, she attacked the unstable part of the sword and shattered it. 

At least her opponent wasn’t a swordsman.  

‘It feels more like she’s randomly throwing swords than using proper swordsmanship. I can handle this.’  

But even if Lævateinn was an unstable weapon, the power within it was extraordinary. 

Perhaps it rivaled the Demon King—no, it might even surpass it.  

‘She definitely can’t make these easily. If she could, she’d just keep making more and attacking me. That would be much more efficient!’  

Of course, objectively speaking, the situation hadn’t reversed. 

She was barely holding on by destroying Lævateinn with her collected weapons, but the residual heat from the explosions was still damaging her.  

Time, environment—  

Nothing was on her side. It was a hopeless situation.  

Yet, she didn’t give up.  

Because that’s what a hero does.  

As she faced dozens of Lævateinn swords, she began to get the hang of it. 

She had painfully learned, at the cost of an arm, that she had to dodge just before destroying a Lævateinn.  

‘Only one sword left!!’  

Boom!!  

After destroying the last remaining Lævateinn, Monica turned her gaze to Wolfgang, who was floating alone in the sky. 

She had exhausted all her strength and was left with nothing but the ground beneath her.  

Even her weapons were down to just two. 

The memories she had collected over a lifetime of adventures with her comrades. 

But now, she would trade those precious memories for one final strike.  

One of the few remaining weapons was the Spear of Hope. 

A weapon she had imbued with her wishes when she first met Van. 

Now, it carried the love that could never be fulfilled. 

She threw it with all her might.  

‘This is the weapon that pierced the Demon King’s barrier and struck its heart. No matter how powerful you are, unless it’s Lævateinn, you can’t block this!’  

Indeed, Monica’s confidence wasn’t in vain. 

The Spear of Hope amplified its power based on the user’s desires. And now, what she desired most was victory in this battle.  

The more desperate she was, the sharper and more powerful the Spear of Hope became as it flew toward its target. 

And just as the Spear of Hope was about to pierce Wolfgang’s heart—  

Boom!!  

Something blocked the Spear of Hope. 

At the same time, a massive storm of flames erupted. In that brief moment, Monica clearly saw it—a flaming sword that had appeared just before the spear could strike.  

Monica said nothing and looked around again. 

The Lævateinn swords she had sacrificed so much to destroy had reappeared, now twice as numerous as before.  

Even with such overwhelming firepower and cutting force, she could produce them so easily. It was utterly unreasonable.  

“……This is cheating.”  

“I admit it. But I had no choice to face the Winter King.”  

“Does that mean you had to reach this level to win?”  

“Let me be clear. Even after all this, I couldn’t defeat the Winter King.”  

“Heh, sounds like you’ve got more tricks up your sleeve.”  

Wolfgang didn’t respond to that. 

Instead, she slowly raised her hand toward the sky. 

In response, the Lævateinn swords floating around her aligned themselves.  

“Half right.”  

As she lowered her hand, the Lævateinn swords flew toward Monica in unison. 

But Monica, refusing to give up, drew her last remaining sword.  

The moment the crude sword clashed with the flaming sword—  

A massive explosion occurred, turning everything white.  

She loved wielding weapons.  

Crushing with a mace, piercing with a spear, slashing with a sword. 

Awakening the ultimate techniques hidden within their meanings and achieving unimaginable results in battle. 

That’s why she was called a berserker.  

Back then, many believed in honing a single weapon to its limits as a virtue. Because of that, Monica, who couldn’t fit into that mold, was utterly alone.  

[Tsk tsk, just a pretentious fool.]  

[How can she reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship like that?]  

[……………Not that I care. I prefer being alone anyway.]  

If he hadn’t spoken to her. If he hadn’t reached out to her, the Hero of Might, Monica, might never have been born. Perhaps it was because she wielded so many weapons.  

[Our party needs you.]  

For the first time in a long while, memories of the past resurfaced. 

The irreplaceable, precious memory of their first meeting. 

But when she opened her eyes again, only the bitter reality remained.  

“You’re still alive? Truly amazing.”  

“……Can you call this being alive?”  

“You’re still breathing, aren’t you? You can still talk.”  

“How cruel. I’ve lost my legs and my arms to fight with.”  

She didn’t need to look down to know. 

Her limbs had already melted away from the flames. 

To be precise, both her arms and lower body had completely melted away.  

For an ordinary person—no, even for a top-tier warrior—such a fatal injury would have killed them instantly. 

Yet, for some reason, Monica showed no signs of her breath giving out.  

But surprisingly, she didn’t feel resentful. It was just… everything felt hollow. 

Staring blankly at the sky with empty eyes, she saw strands of white hair.  

“Let’s talk now, shall we?”  

“About what? You want me to sell out my comrades?”  

“I don’t expect that much. What I really want to know is the mastermind behind all this.”  

“You seem to know something. Can’t you at least tell me that?”  

Is this naivety? Or stupidity?  

To ask so openly and expect an answer. 

What if I lied? 

But seeing her like this reminded me of myself and my comrades during our adventures.  

“……The false goddess desires the resurrection of a certain god.”  

Monica answered Wolfgang’s question honestly. 

The moment Wolfgang heard her answer, her expression hardened. 

Was it just her imagination, or did a certain god come to mind?  

“She is furious. A world that not only separated her from her beloved father but even killed him.”  

“Don’t tell me the god you’re talking about is……”  

“Oh dear, it seems she’s eavesdropping on our conversation. How disgustingly sharp her ears are.”  

Only then did Wolfgang see it. Monica’s body was slowly turning to dust. 

The reason heroes who should have died centuries ago were still alive was simple: the goddess’s power.  

Of course, even a goddess couldn’t see and hear everything in the world. 

If that were the case, Van wouldn’t have been able to mention the relic to Wolfgang.  

But at the very least, she could immediately detect when someone under her power spoke about her. 

Realizing this, Wolfgang urgently asked Monica:  

“Is there nothing else you can tell me?! How exactly does she plan to resurrect him?!”  

“Why would I tell a mere pawn like you?”  

“Damn it! Do you really know nothing else?!”  

“Yes. But let me tell you one thing: since ancient times, reviving a god has required a sacrifice.”  

Humans are made in the image of gods, their avatars. 

That’s why even ordinary people possess a faint trace of divinity. 

If you gather that divine power and refine it to be closer to a god’s…  

Then the god can be resurrected.  

Because gods are immortal beings.