As I thought about Ankelenth, its horrifying image naturally came to mind.
The sight of it setting Ark's skies ablaze.
Hovering like a god above the cloud-choked sky, proclaiming doom not only upon Ark but upon the entire world.
'If Ankelenth awakens now… everything would be over.'
Ankelenth possessed a power that far surpassed the other regional masters I had previously mentioned.
Even if Ark had maintained its strength relatively well, it could never stand against Ankelenth.
To be precise, the moment Ankelenth awakens, Ark would be rendered practically inoperable.
And that was inevitable.
For Ankelenth slumbered deep within the heart of the sacred mountain Noah.
In fact, the awakening of Ankelenth was one of the worst apocalyptic scenarios Ark could face.
Inevitable annihilation.
That was Ankelenth's awakening. And because of that, there were a number of complex conditions that needed to be met for it to occur.
'Now that I've taken down the Bishop of Earth, I should start paying attention to the conditions for Ankelenth's awakening.'
There were several triggers for Ankelenth's awakening, but the most likely one was a ritual being conducted by the Church of Morte.
'The Dragon-Summoning Ritual.'
When it comes to suspicious and deranged factions outside of Ark, the Church of Morte was the obvious top contender.
The Dragon-Summoning Ritual was one of the Church of Morte's goals, meant to awaken Ankelenth who had slumbered beneath the volcano at Sacred Mountain Noah for an unimaginably long time.
Normally, this ritual wouldn't be completed until much later in the stage, but that didn't mean I could afford to be careless.
Although its activation conditions were complex, once initiated, the ritual couldn't be stopped.
It was like launching a nuclear missile—once the button was pressed, there was no turning back.
'Of course, intercepting a launched nuke is always an option… but the problem is, the target is Ankelenth.'
The pinnacle of all life.
The one who reigns.
The dragon who brings destruction.
Fitting of all these titles, hunting Ankelenth after it had already awakened would be anything but easy.
No—except for one very specific case, it could be considered virtually impossible.
'Well, in any case, I'll think about that later…'
I set thoughts of Ankelenth aside for now.
The Church of Morte and the Dragon-Summoning Ritual couldn't be left unattended forever, but strictly speaking, it wasn't an urgent matter at this moment.
["Uugh..."]
"You're awake."
["Did… everything go well?"]
"Yeah."
Apparently fully recovered now, Esther awoke from her long slumber.
Considering she had to lure a Beyond-Grade beast like Ouroboros, even Esther had been pushed to her limits.
["…What a mess."]
That was her first impression as she looked around the now-devastated branch of the Earth Branch.
And it was only natural.
The branch of Earth, once managed and inhabited by the Bishop of Earth himself, had been left in complete ruin, with not even a trace remaining.
["What about Ouroboros? I don't see it."]
"I ate it all."
["…Excuse me?"]
Apparently not expecting me to say I'd devoured a creature the size of Ouroboros, Esther's eyes widened in disbelief.
["Don't tell me… Boneboy and Bonehead ate that whole thing by themselves?"]
"They did."
["Huhhh...."]
Even Esther, who had been with Janus and Horus for a long time, hadn't expected that—they had grown far more powerful than before.
[Gigit!]
Janus cried out as if proud.
Esther looked at it with a strange expression for a moment before breaking into a warm smile.
["Aww, my little Boneboy—did you eat a lot?"]
[Gigit!]
To anyone watching, she looked like a mother doting on her child.
Well… outwardly, it was more like a child doting on another child.
'Then...'
I'd gathered nearly everything I needed, but that didn't mean the looting here was over.
Though the Earth Branch had now collapsed and sunk into the ground, beneath that soil still lay remnants of the former branch.
"Janus."
[Gigit!]
I moved to the spot where the Earth Branch had once stood, and stretched Janus's bone tentacles like webs down into the now-buried underground.
I was checking for anything salvageable.
'Even retrieving a symbol would be worthwhile.'
Symbols of the Church of Morte, even without receiving blessings, granted artificially engineered power equivalent to one.
Naturally, as someone with no intention of ever pledging to the Cult, such symbols were highly useful to me.
Srrrrrrk...
Janus's bone tentacles thinned to the width of needles and extended further.
Naturally, the thinner they were, the more they could cover—and before long, I had taken control of the surrounding territory.
Ssssss──!
Various items began getting caught in Janus's tentacles like fish on a hook.
Most were weapons, equipment, or junk, so I reburied everything except for the gear that could be sold to the Sandstorm Caravan.
'No symbols, huh.'
Then again, the Bishop of Earth and his branch had always been notoriously poor. It couldn't be helped.
'Still, it wasn't a fruitless search.'
The weapons and equipment could be sold through the Sandstorm Caravan at a decent price.
And essential goods I could use myself—so the time invested was well worth it.
Just as I was sorting through the items Janus had retrieved—
"Hm?"
Among the items snagged by Janus's tentacles was something I couldn't identify.
At first glance it looked like junk, but the moment I laid eyes on it, a strange feeling washed over me.
A small orb, as if it contained pitch-black darkness.
'This feeling...'
I recognized it.
It was similar to the sensation I had felt when I first obtained [Rift Space].
[Heehee....]
Laughter echoed.
Then another voice followed.
[Carl… Marcus....]
This wasn't ordinary Aether.
No—more precisely, Aether was merely the medium for delivering its will.
"…Shit."
["Master?"]
Esther seemed to sense something was off too—but unfortunately, she couldn't resist it either.
My consciousness began to blur.
Darkness closed in before my eyes.
["…Master? Master!"]
As Esther's voice echoed in my ears, I lost consciousness.
* * *
How should I describe this…?
This strange feeling, both familiar and foreign, couldn't simply be brushed off as a mood.
It felt as though I'd been left behind on some distant planet in the middle of space.
But that was an illusion.
As I had confirmed once before, this was not a physical location—but rather, a kind of mental realm.
'Hmph...'
I looked toward the horizon of the wasteland and the countless "planets" that lay beyond.
Of course, I knew the truth.
Those weren't planets.
Eyes.
They looked like planets at a glance, but they were merely closed eyelids—countless closed eyes.
To someone unaware, they'd seem like normal moons or planets—but knowing they were all eyes left me with only one thought:
'Utterly disgusting.'
The only solace was that, perhaps because I'd been here once before, the place didn't feel quite as alien or frightening this time.
Or maybe it was because I had grown used to using Rift Space by now.
'So, touching any object owned by the Church of Morte brings me here?'
Now that this had happened twice, a common link had become clear.
Whenever I came into contact with an object connected to the Church of Morte, I was dragged into this mental realm.
'But why?'
Though I had played The Defense countless times, this phenomenon was unheard of.
No one had ever discovered a way to acquire the [Rift Space] in a game that didn't even have an inventory system.
If they had, it would've long been published in official guides.
So that left one possibility—
'Could Carl Marcus's unique bloodline be reacting to certain artifacts held by the Church of Morte?'
Carl Marcus was a member of the Marcus family—related to Lania Marcus, a central figure in the Kronos Union—but even I had never heard of him before.
Given that, it wasn't hard to speculate that Carl's unusual lineage was reacting to some artifact from the Church of Morte.
'I already knew it was a suspicious bloodline in many ways.'
Descendant of the Great Spirit.
That's how Kurilta and Lania Marcus described him.
In fact, that was part of Carl Marcus's backstory from the start.
'And Lania Marcus ultimately becoming the strongest entity in the setting… could that be related to this lineage too?'
The Church of Morte worships the Great Will.
Carl Marcus's ancestor—the Great Spirit.
These two titles were far too similar to ignore.
Are there really that many beings worthy of the grand title "Great"?
'Hard to say...'
Before, I might've dismissed it as coincidence. But not anymore.
The Great Will and the Great Spirit are connected.
Or perhaps—they are merely two names for the same being.
It's not uncommon for different religions to name the same entity in different ways.
'If that's the case… then I'll need to contact the Church of Morte to uncover the secret of Carl Marcus and the Great Spirit.'
Of course, whether that contact would be beneficial to me was another matter entirely.
As my thoughts continued to spiral—
The countless eyes floating in the sky began to open, one by one.
And then they all turned to stare at me.
[Carl. Marcus.]
[We saw.]
[You.]
[We saw you.]
[Carl. Marcus.]
…What?
My stomach churned.
Though it was merely a transmission of intent through Aether, the sensation felt like my brain was being squeezed. I could hardly endure the nausea.
[Fulfill. Duty.]
[Fulfill your.]
[Your duty.]
[Duty fulfill.]
[Fulfill your duty.]
[Fulfill it. Your duty.]
[Fulfill your duty.]
Still incomprehensible.
But the intent behind the message was crystal clear.
'Duty…?'
I didn't know exactly what it wanted.
But it was telling me to fulfill my duty.
Carl Marcus's duty, to be precise.
But clearly, that mysterious will had made a critical mistake.
I was Carl Marcus—yet at the same time, I wasn't.
Naturally, I had no idea what that duty even was.
"How the hell… would I know something like that, you damn… bastards."
Apparently understanding that I'd just cursed at it, the will bearing down on me grew even heavier.
[Fulfill your duty. Fulfill your duty. Fulfill your duty. Fulfill your duty. Fulfill your duty.]
[Carl Marcus. Carl Marcus. Carl Marcus. Carl Marcus. Carl Marcus. Carl Marcus. Carl Marcus. Carl Marcus.]
"Shut… up."
I had no idea what Carl Marcus's duty even was.
No matter how much it demanded, I didn't know a damn thing.
So, I said it again.
Clearly. Deliberately. Like a declaration.
"Piss off."
Leave me the hell alone.
[Heehee....]
And with that, the oppressive will that had seemed ready to consume me vanished as if it had never existed.
Only soft laughter remained.
And then, a single notification appeared before me.
[You have confronted the Will of the Watcher! You can now perceive the Watcher more clearly than before.]
[You have acquired 'Rift Shift'.]