Chapter 51: Projection (1)

The vicinity of the stupa was pacified in an instant.

The power of the iron stakes was far stronger than expected, rendering the time spent slowly encircling the area meaningless as it shattered the monsters’ will to resist, leaving only their survival instincts.

Chasing down the fleeing ones was Saka’s specialty among specialties.

Thanks to their relentless pursuit, it would not be an exaggeration to say that every monster that had appeared here had been captured, resulting in a victory so overwhelming it felt almost insufficient to describe.

“There’s no need to go out of your way to capture them alive.”

“Understood. If things get dicey, I’ll follow your advice.”

Even in the midst of such a victory, Svioha’s nagging continued, and Frennila readily conceded to her words.

After all, if things went as she said, there was no need to exhaust themselves trying to secure the monsters alive—it was much easier this way.

In reality, because their goal had been to capture them, they had unfortunately failed to secure the dark mages who had hidden among the monsters and escaped.

This time, they had to be certain.

Still, they remembered exactly where the dark mages had fled—beyond the stupa, to a place where the energy was so faint even Svioha, the Tengri shrine maiden, had taken time to detect it.

They had taken refuge in a Tengri temple hidden in the Apellon Mountains.

The ominous memory the stupa had once shared with her made her stomach churn, but there was no time for rest.

After briefly inspecting the Iron Bow of the Mountain Pass to ensure it was intact, Frennila called back all the troops hidden beyond the mist and finalized preparations for the decisive battle against the dark mages.

“All forces, prepare to march.”

Even if it meant stripping them of their flesh and filling bottles to the brim with their blood, she would uncover their true nature.

And then… they would pay the price.

*

Was this woman truly insane?

The masked man known as “Boss” trembled with fury as he thought of the bow-wielding woman from the nomadic tribe who had pursued them all the way here.

The spirit entities they had barely managed to lure using the pinnacle of dark magic and voodoo—had they escaped the Apellon Mountains, they would have been more than enough to swallow the kingdom whole. 

Yet, they had all been annihilated in an instant.

Rumors had it that even capturing a single spirit entity at the foot of the mountains had been a struggle, so what in the world had happened in such a short time?

No matter how much he grumbled and complained, reality wouldn’t change.

Quickly accepting the situation, the man urged his subordinates to focus on fortifying their defenses.

With all the spirit entities gone, what difference would their efforts make? 

Still, he told himself it was a sacrifice for their grand cause.

He had thought these savages were nothing more than materials to be used for their grand plan—but he had been gravely mistaken.

They were variables. 

Unpredictable elements that could negatively impact their future plans, variables that had to be eliminated at all costs.

Still, there was one advantage they had. 

It seemed their pursuers were intent on capturing them alive.

If that was the case, then as long as they fought to the death before being captured, it could be considered a tactical victory.

Even if they died here, reducing the enemy’s numbers by even one would be a noble sacrifice.

With that in mind, after completing final preparations for the last stand, he gathered his subordinates and ordered them to fight to the death.

“Everyone, you remember the spell, don’t you?”

The suicide spell—a dark magic that annihilated the surroundings at the cost of the caster’s mana and life force.

Originally, it was meant to be used as a last resort to prevent information leaks, but faced with the reality of the situation, some of the soldiers trembled in fear.

The Minister of War himself came all the way here. 

That alone proves how much he values our experimental unit.

Once the grand plan is realized, we’ll be rewarded for our sacrifices—so why are they shaking in fear like this?

I’ll have to place them at the front. 

No point keeping them inside if they hesitate and get captured.

There was no need to coddle cowards who feared dying for the sake of their great cause.

No complex tactics were necessary. 

The only goal was to drag as many savages as possible to the afterlife with them.

With all preparations complete, the Boss recited one final oath of loyalty to his master.

“Poriva, Istania na.”

Hearing this, his subordinates repeated after him.

“Poriva, Istania na!”

“My life belongs to the Supreme Leader.”

The Boss continued with the next line, but his subordinates did not follow.

In that brief moment, a piercing sound tore through the air, coming from the gaps in the temple walls.

“Ghk!”

Before anyone could even blink, one of the soldiers collapsed to the ground, his head cleanly severed.

Then, countless puppets stormed into the temple.

They’re here. 

Good. Let them come in. 

The more of them enter, the more companions we’ll have on the road to hell.

But contrary to the Boss’s expectations, the savage warriors did not advance further—instead, they sealed the entrance, refusing to come closer.

Instead—

“Ghk!” “Hup!” “Khh—!”

Projectiles flew through every gap in the temple’s structure, picking off his subordinates one by one. 

As if deliberately leaving only him alive.

Belatedly, the hidden golems and defensive spells were brought out, but the power of the projectiles surpassed their durability, destroying everything they touched in an instant.

‘Did you really think I’d just take this lying down?’

The boss immediately ordered his subordinates to charge at the enemy. 

As the command was given, a clear divide emerged—some hesitated, while others rushed toward the barbarians without a second thought.

The boss mercilessly fired an enchanted offensive spell at the nearest hesitant subordinate.

“Gaaah!”

A black lightning bolt struck its target, burning the man alive without mercy. 

The charred corpse of the former subordinate no longer drew breath.

After making an example of him, the rest clenched their eyes shut and began charging at the barbarians.

Boom! Crash!

Many lost their lives to the sonic waves that tore through the air before they could even close the distance, but a few managed to get close enough to cast spells.

The grotesque scene unfolded as chunks of flesh and blood from exploding subordinates splattered in all directions.

The boss watched as the last subordinate’s body swelled and burst. 

There was no longer any risk of information leaking.

Finally, the boss smiled in satisfaction before stepping forward to carry out his final act.

‘No matter what you do, you won’t get the information you want.’

He began chanting. He wasn’t one to boast, but as a mid-ranking executive, his mastery over life force was on an entirely different level compared to his subordinates.

The barbarian warriors, having gauged the range of the earlier explosions, were slowly closing in. 

But with his power, he could bring down the entire temple if he wanted. 

To maximize their casualties, he waited, continuing his chant, hoping they would step inside.

Just a little more, just a little more!

The boss’s bloodshot eyes fixed on the temple entrance. 

Greed filled him—the desire to drag as many as possible down with him. 

As he counted their numbers, a woman caught his eye.

‘That bow-wielding savage!’

Her jade-colored hair and the iron bow in her hand—the same monstrous strength that had driven them to this point.

The bow-wielding savage stepped into the building, one step at a time, her bowstring drawn taut.

What an extravagant guest to accompany him to the afterlife. She must be here to negotiate.

But alas, he had no intention of cooperating. Still, a little conversation wouldn’t hurt. 

If he could catch her off guard, he could kill her more decisively.

What topic would grab her attention? 

Maybe the mastermind behind this operation? 

Not that he’d reveal anything crucial. 

Or perhaps something about the prince she was obsessed with?

“Well, well, if it isn’t our first—”

Mid-sentence, the boss felt something was wrong with his body.

Thunk!

A sound echoed from behind him—something embedding itself into the stone wall. 

What? Why won’t his body move?

His gaze shifted to the bow-wielding savage. 

The bowstring, taut just moments ago, was now slack.

‘What? Did she just shoot me?’

But what about the information? 

Don’t they need it? 

Yet Frennila’s expression as she approached was calm, almost icy.

Had his lungs been pierced? 

He tried to continue his chant, but only ragged breaths escaped his mouth.

His body, already beyond his control, refused to obey. 

He could only watch as blood pooled beneath him, flowing freely from his heart.

“Svioha, I left the head intact.”

“Good job. I was startled when they suddenly started exploding on their own, but thanks to this guy holding out until the end, we shouldn’t have any major problems.”

What were they talking about? 

His mind spun, making it impossible to comprehend.

Before he knew it, Frennila was right in front of him, grabbing his hair and lifting his head.

She dragged his limp body indifferently toward Svioha.

“Then let’s proceed right away.”

The dangers of necromancy were known through books and other records, but the truly dangerous knowledge was always passed down orally.

Of course, there were strict conditions—the body couldn’t be dead for long, and the brain had to be intact—but,

“Don’t expect a peaceful death.”

A viscous energy oozed from Svioha’s body and seeped into the man known as the boss.

Soul Torture—a technique passed down only to the direct lineage of the Staff. 

A soul marked by Soul Torture would be bound to the mortal realm until the caster released it.

The torture inflicted upon such a soul wounded not the body but the spirit itself, subjecting the victim to unimaginable agony they could never experience in life.

Soon after the energy took hold, something hazy but undeniably present began oozing from the man’s body.

As if waiting for this moment, Svioha, holding a metal fragment embedded with glass shards, mercilessly lashed out at the presence.

Though nothing physical was there, the fragment coiled around empty space with a loud crack.

At the same time, a howling wind erupted, mingling with Svioha’s sadistic laughter as it echoed through the area.

It wouldn’t be long before Svioha uncovered the mastermind behind this incident. 

For now, all Frennila could do was trust in her abilities and wait.

Frennila turned and stepped back into the temple.

She needed to retrieve the iron stakes she had fired earlier—and because she was certain, just like in Stupa, that something was hidden here.

Ignoring the puddles of blood, she squelched her way toward the wall. 

As expected, the iron stakes embedded in the wall were still there. 

But as she retrieved them, she noticed another anomaly.

At the very center of the temple—the same phenomenon she had seen before.

The only difference was that the iron stakes she had collected now vibrated faintly, as if resonating with it.

A mesmerizing light began to glow as she approached.

Having experienced this once before, she handled the phenomenon more skillfully this time.

Her eyes, gradually consumed by the light, soon projected a familiar yet new scene before her.

“Priya, what are you doing here alone?”

A familiar voice.

But it was different. Her name was Frennila—Priya was a name she had never heard before, utterly unfamiliar.

Yet the face of the person calling her by that strange name was one she knew all too well.

‘The prince?’

Unlike his youthful appearance now, this was a glimpse of the robust young man he would become in the future.

His smile was directed at Priya.