Ch.163Chapter 163

Wendigo’s kick tore through the barrier on the golden gate, sending it flying inward. He had expected screams to erupt.

But what came from inside wasn’t screaming—it was the violent sound of metal and hymns praising Dencan’s name.

Wendigo clicked his tongue in disappointment as he stepped inside. What met his eyes were dozens of people kneeling and singing hymns.

They paid no attention to the shattered door or Wendigo’s entrance. All their focus was directed toward the golden throne at the center of the space.

“Kuhek!? Lord Den-Dencan. Please spare my life…”

“Aaaah…”

Even as their throats were torn and bleeding, even as they died from hunger they couldn’t endure, their faces remained ecstatic as they reached toward the throne with their dying breaths.

The blood flowing from their bodies ran along grooves carved into the floor, forming a magic circle. It was impossible to gauge how much blood was being used to maintain it.

The blood circulated through the magic circle, defying natural laws as it flowed toward the throne…

“… You came earlier than I expected.”

Dencan sat on the throne, staring at Wendigo with a crazed expression. Despite the blood from the magic circle seeping into his body through wounds on both arms, he remained calm.

Wendigo, delighted to finally meet Dencan, offered a light greeting. An ice spear he created flew toward Dencan with a sharp sound.

But Dencan merely watched the approaching ice spear without moving. He no longer needed to—he had many means to block enemy attacks.

As soon as the ice spear reached the edge of the magic circle, streams of blood shot up from the grooves to intercept it.

As blood-tinged ice fragments scattered, Wendigo began to understand how Dencan had blocked the golden gate he’d sent flying.

Dencan spoke while leaning back against the throne, as if he had anticipated Wendigo’s fierce greeting.

“I expected you’d want to kill me as much as I want to kill you. But would you mind waiting a bit?”

Wendigo answered Dencan’s request by swinging a massive ice sword. This time, blood rose from the edge of the magic circle and spread into a curtain.

The blood curtain withstood Wendigo’s ice sword—a blade that even steel couldn’t block. But there was a price.

Five or six clan members who had been singing hymns collapsed, coughing blood. As their blood was consumed, the blood curtain grew darker and harder.

Wendigo slowly increased his mystical power, but the curtain darkened in color and continued to resist.

‘Tougher than I thought. Not surprising since it’s absorbed all the mystical energy in the area.’

While continuing to apply more force, Wendigo glanced at Skadi. She was attempting to interfere with the magic circle through the ground rather than from above.

But she too was struggling. The roots extending from her fingertips rotted as soon as they touched the blood.

The blood forming the magic circle seemed to have its own will to protect the circle, making it difficult to stop the spell.

As Skadi frowned her fair brow, Dencan shook his head with a languid smile.

“It’s blood mixed from beasts killed through repeated torture, the blood of my clan, and my own blood. Blood infused with grudges and madness carries impure power in itself.”

Crack!

The ice sword cut into the curtain, and more clan members collapsed, spitting blood. Yet even as it withstood Wendigo’s sword strike, the curtain didn’t lose its power.

But the curtain’s power wasn’t infinite.

As the mystical energy in Wendigo’s sword increased exponentially, dark blue haze rose from the ice blade.

The materialized mystical energy froze the curtain, while the curtain continued circulating blood to block the ice sword.

Wendigo pressed the blade of his ice sword with his hand and asked Dencan:

“From your talk, you seem quite knowledgeable about summoning. Where did you learn such arts?”

“Why should I answer that question?”

“Don’t answer if you don’t want to. Still, Dario Kaffustin told me you were ‘once’ close friends, but I guess you weren’t that close after all…”

Creak.

Perhaps it was because Dario’s name came from Wendigo’s mouth.

Tendons bulged in Dencan’s neck, and his relaxed posture leaned forward. But his anger blurred as it was swept away by fragments of memory seeping into his body.

Struggling not to lose his identity, Dencan answered Wendigo’s question.

“The wizard who first mentioned this spell… I can’t remember who it was. Anyway, that wizard said through this magic I would become closer to my ancestors than anyone else. Through their… sacrifice.”

What dissolved in the blood flowing in and out of Dencan’s body wasn’t just resentment and madness, but the entire lives of his clan members.

He was swallowing whole lifetimes of wisdom, knowledge, and experience that others had accumulated.

Naturally, no one could remain sane after committing such acts. It’s hard enough for a person to endure one lifetime—how could anyone handle dozens?

“That’s madness.”

“Does anyone truly sane exist in this world? At least I acknowledge that I’m insane.”

Dencan didn’t deny their madness. From the moment he became “Dencan” by trampling over his siblings to survive, he had been broken.

He had merely lived by acting as the Dencan his clan wished for, while remaining broken inside.

“I lived acting as Dencan for this insane clan.”

“You speak well. Though you couldn’t say it in front of the nobles, Dario said your obsession was beyond reasonable—are you saying that was also part of your act as Dencan?”

“I won’t deny that. He was the only friend I made of my own will throughout my life, not as Dencan.”

Dencan readily admitted to Wendigo’s sarcasm. To him, who was no different from an actor in a play, Dario’s way of living according to his own will was truly beautiful.

Dario was the only one he had befriended by his own will, not as “Dencan.”

Recalling Dario, who served as a sturdy pillar amid the flood of swirling memories, Dencan smirked.

“If only one of us had been a different gender, it would have been nice.”

“Unfortunately, Dario is already taken. So…”

As the last surviving member singing hymns breathed his last, Wendigo’s ice sword cut through the curtain. The weakened blood poured down like rain.

Stepping inside the magic circle, Wendigo pointed his sword at Dencan and said:

“It’s time we end this.”

“… Yes. It’s about time to finish this.”

Because the clan’s secret wish had been completed at the cost of dozens of lives.

The blood that had been flowing to form the magic circle surged and moved toward Dencan. Like dozens of snakes rushing forward, the blood flowed toward him and seeped through his wounds.

As the unpleasant mystical energy surged, Skadi frowned and shot an ice arrow toward Dencan. But the arrow was swept away by the torrent of blood and instantly shattered.

After absorbing all the blood, Dencan rose from the throne and reached his hand toward the air.

Sensing killing intent from behind, Wendigo swung his ice sword backward. With a heavy impact, a sword was deflected and flew away.

‘That mark on the handle isn’t blood… It’s a hand made of blood?’

What was moving the sword emanating an ominous aura was a hand made of blood. But there was no time to focus on the hand.

Because new swords were flying toward Wendigo from among the corpses.

Skadi quickly created a spear and deflected one of the swords flying toward Wendigo. But two of the flying swords still aimed for Wendigo’s neck.

Wendigo instinctively realized he could only block one of the two incoming swords. He didn’t spend long deciding which one to block.

After deflecting the sword aimed precisely at his neck with a swipe of his claws, Wendigo tried to block the last sword with his raised arm.

He expected to be able to block the sword by drawing on his mystical power, but…

Contrary to Wendigo’s expectation, the sword scattered the mystical power in his arm and pierced straight through.

“If you thought these were ordinary swords, you’re mistaken.”

Retrieving the deflected swords, Dencan stroked the sword in his hand and said.

The treasured swords forged by ancestors to hunt beasts and Djin were like deadly poison to those who wielded mystical power.

“They aren’t named swords… but their power is lethal. They prevent mystical power from concentrating, wounds left by them drain mystical power, and when thrust in, they absorb mystical power.”

Wendigo felt the mystical power in his arm weakening, just as Dencan said. The unfamiliar feeling of powerlessness was quite surprising.

As Wendigo grabbed the handle to pull out the sword, Dencan shook his head.

“You won’t be able to pull it out so eas—”

“You talk too much. Was there a chatterbox among the clan members you absorbed?”

Wendigo pushed mystical power into the sword’s handle. At first, the sword greedily devoured the mystical power, but how could one empty the sea with a bucket?

Unable to handle the continuous influx of mystical power, the sword froze instantly when its engraved spell broke.

Wendigo pulled the sword from his shoulder as if it were nothing and threw it to the floor. The treasured sword imbued with clan history became scrap metal rolling on the ground.

After healing his wound by circulating mystical power, Wendigo moved his shoulder around and asked Dencan:

“You talked about it like it was something amazing, but it’s not that impressive. Is this all you’ve prepared?”

“……”

Dencan twisted his face hideously as he controlled the swords. Sword strikes containing the experience of dead knights poured down, targeting Wendigo.

But before overwhelming power, technique was nothing more than a trivial trick.

Wendigo’s ice sword struck the swords with a flash of light. His mystical power, overwhelming in density, remained powerful even when scattered, and the swords that couldn’t withstand the impact exploded in mid-air.

Skadi deflected a sword targeting Wendigo with her spear, then threw the spear toward Dencan. Dencan looked at the ice spear flying toward him and…

Thud!

Dencan neither dodged nor blocked it, taking the hit directly. Blood flowed down his abdomen, pierced by the ice spear.

Having destroyed the last sword, Wendigo looked at Dencan with a puzzled expression.

Dencan pulled out the spear with a calm expression. Blood flowed from the wound… in an abnormally large amount.

The blood, following Dencan’s will, wrapped around his arm and created a massive vortex. Above his hand raised toward the sky, an abnormally huge sword of blood gradually took shape.

‘Is he planning to cut me down along with the ceiling?’

The energy emanating from the sword was too extraordinary to dismiss as merely an oversized attack.

Wendigo tried to spring forward to attack Dencan first.

At that moment, Dencan extended his empty hand toward Wendigo, and the broken sword fragments glinted and formed a barrier. The fragments floating in the air became like constellations, connecting to each other and emitting light.

Dencan twisted the corner of his mouth and mocked Wendigo.

“Did you really think I would rely on mere treasured swords to kill you?”

Dencan’s barrier, though lasting only a brief moment, succeeded in stopping Wendigo’s movement. Dencan didn’t miss that fleeting moment.

The sword of blood, with the faces of dead clan members rippling across it, cut through the ceiling and flew toward Wendigo.

The blood sword struck Wendigo along with the collapsing ceiling.