Despair crushed every heart present, from Finn to Ais and everyone else on the battlefield. They had surrendered to a reality that demanded they sacrifice Al for their survival, succumbing to a weakness so profound that the Monstrosity did not even grant them a second glance.
Except for one person—a lone werewolf who charged forward.
●○●○●
I did it!
Yes, this is exactly what I wanted!!
My intuition never fails; you did a marvelous job, Revis!!
Good grief, it has been a long road. It started with the Infant Dragon, then the Black Goliath, followed by the Juggernaut, the Ancient Holy Beast, and that irregular floor boss... I narrowly escaped death every single time by some miracle, but it seems my moment has finally arrived!!
The Behemoth's venom is the real deal—the kind that actually ends a life. Finish me off quickly, because if you don't do it now, my body will probably develop a resistance to it.
"I will not ask for forgiveness."
Huh? What is it, Finn?
"─────Al, please die for us."
I accept!!
I love Finn because he says things like that! Fine, everyone run. Get out of here. I will ensure your escape, no matter the cost.
"Ah... It's a lie... No, no, no, I refuse!! I refuse!!"
Shut up!! Stay quiet and watch! Let me die a glorious, heroic death!!
"I'm sorry."
"It seems I won't be able to be your hero."
Do you have any idea how much time, effort, and situational buildup it took just to say that one line? Well, I'm saying it now. These are the final words one only gets to speak once in a lifetime, so listen closely.
"─────I hope you meet your own hero one day."
─────Yes, that's it. That is the face I wanted to see.
Now, I have no regrets left... I'll use the last of my strength to defeat Revis and her lackeys while you escape.
"[─────Break the shackles. I am the one who carries the arrow of the Moon Goddess I long for, and the spear of the covenant. I am the false hero.]"
"[The Vesper Hymn, the flame of desire that consumes my flesh, the ringing of the cloister bell. The funeral note, the melody of thunder; what I play is the anthem of dawn.]"
This magic-sealing curse... I can break through it with sheer will and power!! I'll give you a taste of my strongest magic───── Huh?
Wait, what?! What are you doing?!
●○●○●
My life up to this point has been a series of losing precious things.
My home was in the northern lands of the continent. We were a tribe of nomadic demi-humans with no ties to nations or cities, known as the "Plains People." We lived without Gods and without "Blessings." Nevertheless, we were strong enough never to lose to low-ranking followers.
We crushed monsters and ground anyone who tried to mess with us into the dirt, even those with guards. My father, the tribe leader, was stronger than everyone—he was my pride and joy.
I had my strong mother, my little sister Luna, and my werewolf brothers. And then there was Rene, my childhood friend born on the same day as me. She was weak, unfitting for the tribe's standards, but she was more beautiful than anyone else.
The tribe's creed was "Survival of the Fittest"; if you wanted something, you took it by force. The boys competed for Rene, who grew more beautiful by the day. As for me, I continued to sharpen my fangs until I became the strongest among the children.
"It's fine if you're weak! If your strength is only half of everyone else's, then I'll just put out double or triple the power. I'll become strong for your sake too!"
Back then, when I said that to Rene, I believed it was enough for just me to be the strong one.
It happened the year I turned twelve. That "Beast" descended from the "Dragon Valley" in the far north, one of the three Great Quests of the world. Neither the tribe's skills, nor their wisdom, nor even the beastification under the moonlight mattered; it slaughtered everyone.
On the night of the golden moon, the tribe was completely annihilated. I was the only survivor. Survival of the fittest—the strong are permitted to do anything, and the weak have no right to object. I finally understood the law of the world my father had taught me.
── My father was weak; therefore, he was torn apart.
── My mother was weak; therefore, she was cut in half.
── My sister was weak; therefore, she was trampled underfoot.
And I was weak; therefore, everything precious was stolen from me.
I abandoned my homeland. Reviving a tribe of weaklings would only lead to them being plundered again. I searched for "Power." I searched for "Fangs" that would never break so I could defeat that "Beast" that had become the "Lord of the Plains."
I left my scars visible on purpose so I would never forget the humiliation of my weakness, and I tattooed over them.
After a long journey, I reached the Labyrinth City, Orario. My first move was to find a God who would grant me a "Blessing." I intended to choose my deity with extreme care, but I early on met a God I felt I could strike a contract with.
The God Vidar.
A silent God with a hint of serenity, he distanced himself from worldly trivialities. His rare words felt like sacred revelations.
"Careful that your jaw isn't torn apart along with those fangs of yours."
The Vidar Familia was a faction specializing in exploration. The disciplined adventurers who loved this God were all young, mostly demi-humans. The cold ache in my chest was what made me decide to join them.
After joining, brawling with members became a daily occurrence. Selenia, a human with strength surpassing everyone else who served as the Captain, was a strong, beautiful, and formidable warrior.
I continued to fight like a madman. After a few months, the members became brothers-in-arms I could trust with my back, and my strength was finally acknowledged.
When I surpassed Selenia in "Status," I became the wolf leading the pack as the Captain of the Vidar Familia, just like the father I had once looked up to.
The Vidar Familia, once small and weak, began to advance. I and the other members achieved successive rank-ups until we were considered a powerful mid-tier faction.
"The Gray Wolf"—that was my first title.
I refused to become the scum that oppressed the weak, and I wouldn't tolerate the arrogance of the strong.
As I obsessively sharpened my "Fangs," the members followed in my footsteps, hungering for strength. Over time, my way of life became the way of the Vidar Familia.
It wasn't just about power; I showed them how to be. Even the members weaker than me obtained "Fangs" and became warriors who defied the logic of "Survival of the Fittest." It was a comfortable place. The "Family" I had lost truly existed there.
And even the "Love" I had lost.
I thought this woman might heal my wounds; those sweet feelings stirred within me. But after four years in Orario, I reached Level 3. I couldn't wait any longer.
I left Orario for a while to kill the "Lord of the Plains" with my own hands.
"....Vidar."
"Bete.."
On a night with a round moon resembling that night long ago, I returned to my homeland. I faced that thing once more. The deadly battle lasted all night. I exhausted every weapon, blood leaked from my entire body, and my bones shattered—but I crushed the claws that tore my father and mother, broke the legs that trampled my sister, and ripped apart the mouth that devoured Rene.
I turned into a beast more ferocious than the "Lord of the Plains" and bared my "Fangs."
Standing over the giant monster's corpse, I let out a thunderous roar. It was a mix of joy and rage, sorrow and emptiness. I had become strong. Nothing would be stolen from me anymore. Yet, the pain of my "Fangs" did not subside.
That day, too, it was raining. After defeating the "Lord of the Plains" and returning to the Labyrinth City, Selenia's corpse was what awaited me.
It was just a regular scouting mission in the Labyrinth. Something simple they had done dozens of times in their daily lives. Why? Are the weak completely helpless if the strong don't protect them?
I was supposed to have become strong. So why was something else stolen from me a second time?
After a while, the Vidar Familia decided to leave Orario.
I hurt them with my words on purpose so they would hate me, pushing them away from the Labyrinth City as if I were expelling them. The Guild agreed to the departure of Vidar and the others because I, as a second-class adventurer, would remain. There were no parting words.
Since then, not a day passed without a fight. But no "Strong" person could defeat me.
Those weaklings who cannot defy the world of "Survival of the Fittest." Fragile beings that Bete cannot save, no matter how strong he becomes.
Perhaps that meeting was fated. During the days I spent brawling without belonging to a faction, unfamiliar faces appeared in the tavern I frequented.
The Loki Familia. The faction that had stood at the forefront alongside the Goddess of Beauty's faction since I first set foot in the Labyrinth City—the largest faction in town.
For the first time, another adventurer crushed me. The strength I had polished meant nothing against that great first-class Dwarf warrior. I laughed at the sheer absurdity of it.
"What is this? So they do exist here? People so strong you can't even talk to them."
After Loki summoned me and I joined the faction, I immediately rose to Level 4.
I was amazed after joining. How could these people, who weren't blessed with innate talent, fight like this? How was their trust in the leader of the pack so incredibly high? And how did the pack change completely when the leader changed?
"The Braver," Finn Deimne. Despite being of the Pallum race—often despised as inferior—he was a phenomenal figure who reached Level 6 and effectively sat at the peak of Orario.
His strength, his intelligence, and his resolve... I had never met a man who matched him. He possessed the essence of a true "Hero" and was ready to carry the entire weight of his race on his shoulders.
And Ais Wallenstein. A young human girl. Had my sister lived, she would have been around her age; yet, she was a woman stronger than me when she used magic.
She sought power even more than I did, and it became a pleasure to watch Ais grow steadily stronger.
Two years later, Al Cranel joined. That boy was radiant—sharper and more talented than everyone, looking upward more than anyone else.
Unlike me, he was the one who saved Ais and everyone else without losing a thing. His strength increased with lightning speed, until I found he had surpassed me and set foot in territories further beyond.
Six years have passed since I joined the Loki Familia. I'll admit, it wasn't bad. An outstanding leader, members who weren't scum even if they were weak, and strong rivals I could polish myself against.
It was then I realized. For me, "Fangs" are "Scars." The wolf full of scars—that is my truth.
I once thought that by sharpening my fangs and increasing my strength, I would protect everything. And for a while, I believed everyone would die if they didn't become strong.
The battlefield is only fit for those who can howl back at the mockery of the strong; those who lack that resolve or refuse to change will become nothing more than "trash" whose corpses pile up in vain.
Therefore, I despised them, mocked them, and laughed at them... those "trash" who try to stand on the battlefield. None of them can even howl, and they never change..
───── But, that boy howled, didn't he?
"[O Shackled Evil Wolf King. The first wound is a bond, the second wound is a cry of pain, the third wound is a stake.]"
I unleashed this chant that represents "Scars," breaking the shackle I had imposed on myself never to use it. It was childish stubbornness, but it was a desperate desire where I decided I would protect even unto death.
"[The saliva of hunger is the only hope. Carve a river mingled with blood and wash away the tears. O unhealing wound, do not forget.]"
But that boy broke his cocoon and changed. So, what use am I if I don't break my shackles right here and now ────!!
"[This rage and this hatred, your lethargy and your flame. Loathe the world, acknowledge the logic, and dry the tears. Turn the wound into fangs and the sobbing into a howl.]"
My family, my childhood friend, my lover... I couldn't protect any of them. My life was a series of consecutive losses.
"[By the power of the lost flesh and blood, the chains are shattered. The roar of the sky's cry. O lineage of wrath, devour the moon in place of this body, and drink deep.]"
So that I don't lose anything again, so that no more is stolen from me. This time── I will protect! I will protect with all my might!!
"[With your flaming fangs... devour everything.]"
"[─────Hati!!]"
The magic devoured the remnants of the magical power exhaled by that polluted spirit. A giant wolf of crimson flames appeared, rivaling Riveria's magic "Rea Laevateinn," baring its jaws as it roared ferociously. Its eyes glowed crimson under the light of the flames. However, the tsunami of fire that nearly swallowed Revis, the spirit, and even Al───── was easily parried by Revis's greatsword.
"Someone at Level 5 is nothing but a hindrance."
No matter the strength of the magic after breaking the seal, Bete at Level 5 would never reach the monstrosity Revis, who possessed abilities approaching Level 7. Bete himself realized this more than anyone else. His goal wasn't to defeat Revis.
The feature of "Hati" is "Magic Absorption." The giant wolf's fangs are not like the degraded weapon "Frohsvirt"; they are fire fangs unleashed in full. If something is born of magical power, they will tear into it—whether it's an attack, a barrier, or────── a curse.
"Get up, you bastard─────!!"
"....Good grief, I had given up. I thought this was the end this time."
"But, after all this buildup you've given me, I can't exactly die here."
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Settings Segment:
[The Behemoth Greatsword] An item dropped from the Behemoth, discovered in the Black Desert of Dedan. Barca Perdix, who possesses the "Mystery" skill, turned it into a cursed weapon. It is a filthy weapon combining the Behemoth's death venom and Barca's curse. Thanks to his curse-defense skill, high-ranking "Abnormal Resistance," and Level 7 status, Al managed to endure. Had it been Raul or Lefiya, they would have died instantly; even Ais, if stabbed in the chest, would have died in seconds.
[Rea Phoenix] Simply put: "Less power than Ariel," "Less fire than Hati," "Less auto-healing than Fels," "Less purification and poison healing than Amid," "Less magic resistance than Alfia." However, its energy consumption efficiency is incredibly excellent.
[Yggdrasil Leaf] The third magic he intended to use. A very "dirty" skill, and because the other two skills are so powerful, he rarely finds an opportunity to use it.
[Spirit Protection] If there is a Spirit on the allied side, the user and that Spirit receive a special "buff." If the Spirit is an enemy, the user receives a powerful offensive "buff" against it. It grants permanent resistance to elemental attacks and curses. Its true value cannot be shown as long as the user is under the influence of the "Blessing" (the Falna).
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