30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

Chapter 245

All those present here have stepped into the realm of the superhuman. This was the most effort that Ivan had put into teaching his companions.

Therefore, the fact that they were in a crisis indicates that the demon before them is strong enough to step into the realm of superhumans and simultaneously contend with several superhumans.

Kwa-jik!

In the time where flow is disconnected, the vampire’s right arm was torn off. The vampire reacted a beat late. In that instant, the axe blade was already embedded deep within its body.

Even if one is a superhuman capable of accelerating their nerves, the difference is clear. It is a matter of how quickly one can enter the maximum level of response enhancement that the nerves can handle.

If one were to compare it, it would be akin to modern motorsport. How quickly can one reach zero to sixty, and how precisely can they control that maximum speed?

In short,

A superhuman who reaches maximum acceleration before the opposing enemy does can gain the overwhelming advantage of the first strike. In combat beneath the threshold of time, that fleeting moment determines everything.

Eujijik!

So, the moment the vampire turned its head, Ivan twisted and tore off its arm, delivering the next strike.

“—!!”

The startled creature flailed and regained its stance. But it was slow. It had not yet reached maximum speed. In that moment, the outstretched left arm shattered into five pieces and scattered.

Crimson droplets splattered and were embedded in the air. The mist-like blood, unable to withstand the pressure of the accelerated body, elongated outwards.

And the axe blade descended again, dismantling all that stood in its path. The creature’s pupils finally caught up to that speed.

Ka-ang!!

The axe blade was blocked by its fangs and it was sent flying backward. And behind it—

Sureng…

Emerging from the mist was Enrique, holding a dagger. The creature, having briefly recovered its body, staggered as it deflected Enrique’s blade. The axe and dagger intertwined and scattered multiple times.

The body, now in tatters, reconstructed itself in mid-air. Ivan and Enrique dashed forward simultaneously through the droplets of blood.

Knowing each other’s combat techniques very clearly, their combinations flowed perfectly even in silence. The vampire repeatedly shattered and reassembled, staggering.

Stop!!

A fight conducted in the realm of the superhuman is silent. Most battles occur faster than sound, or at least faster than auditory signal recognition.

Thus, the words heard in this struggle did not originate from a vocal cord. The vampire, in mist form, was casting spells attempting to communicate in Ivan’s mind.

The spider Ivan!! My master wishes to speak with you!!

Instead of responding, Ivan drove the creature’s head down once more. Any trained agent would not engage in dialogue with a monster that could still fight. An unneutralized monster is dangerous. (After it’s neutralized, there’s no need for conversation.)

The creature’s head crumbled to ash, scattering immediately. With its head lost, it staggered back a few steps and reformed.

If you wish to save your king, then stop!!

Those words couldn’t be ignored. Ivan’s hand momentarily twitched. Still, he continued his assault, but at this level, he had enough time to dodge.

The vampire quickly withdrew beyond the seal. Ivan’s gaze followed it.

“Huuh—Hah—!! Damn it, it shouldn’t be alive—!!”

The vampire coughed out blood and staggered. As Ivan regained his stance, the creature spoke quickly.

“Come to the Krasilov Royal Tomb! My master wishes to see you!”

As Ivan ignored its words and lunged, the vampire convulsed and unleashed a spell. A blood-hued barrier spread before him.

Kwajik, Kwajik. The barrier shattered under two axe strikes. In the gap, Ivan reached out, grabbing the vampire by the collar and raising the axe upside down. The vampire’s weak point was always the heart, so he gripped the axe handle like a stake.

Realizing that conversation, persuasion, and negotiation would not work, the vampire flailed its arms in panic with a pale, horrified face. Meanwhile, a skeletal being approached Ivan’s axe.

“Stop the tricks.”

“Your, your king—.”

“There is only one king in this country, and he is not in this city right now.”

“He is here!! That monstrous fiend! The king you have served all your life is in this city!!”

Zombies and skeletons suddenly appeared, rushing like moths to protect their master. While it wasn’t difficult to deal with them one by one, they were doing their utmost to obstruct Ivan’s movements with their undead tenacity.

Barely managing to regain its composure, the vampire sat on the window sill, sneering.

“Have you forgotten what is buried in the Krasilov Royal Tomb, Spider?”

“I swear.”

It felt as though all the zombies scattered throughout the city had been called forth. The corridor wasn’t that spacious, yet the zombies surged in, filling the space between him and the vampire like a massive barrier.

Even if he swung his weapon to smash them, they filled in the gaps again, buying time to protect their master.

Now, when he could no longer even see the faces behind the zombies, Ivan reached out through the masses and concluded.

“You will not live one day longer than today.”

The vampire had to feel a chill as it gazed at the gun barrel that suddenly emerged between the corpses of zombies and skeleton soldiers. Through the pouring zombies, a small opening revealed a pair of blue eyes glaring at him, as if to swallow him whole.

Bang, bang, bang! The moment he transformed into a bat, gunshots rang out in succession. Half of the scattered bats were precisely shot through the forehead and fell.

Kiiing—!!

From amidst the bats, a stream of magic flew towards Ivan. The misaligned spell grazed Ivan, crashing into the room.

A deep purple spell struck the ground in the middle of a tombstone-covered graveyard.

“Reanimator!”

The one who read the magical power, Elpheira, shouted. It was too fast a spell to counter with anti-magic. After all, the opponent was strong enough to push the entire group into a defensive position.

When Ivan turned around, ominous laughter echoed from among the bats soaring beyond the sky.

“Try to reinter your most cherished ones with your own hands! Huhahahaha!!”

The tombstones began to tremble. Ivan stared blankly at him, disregarding the oncoming zombies.

The skeletal hands and jaws of the undead enveloped Ivan. Encased within, he remained immobile. His companions were running toward him to save him.

That desperate gesture went unnoticed. Ivan continued to gaze coldly at the tombstones.

He had fought without reward. Died without honor. Forgotten without a name.

All the souls of his comrades were buried there. He still remembered the names, deaths, and lives of all the comrades he had carried.

And the tombstones trembled. Dry mounds shifted.

The enchanted corpses reached out longingly for life once more.

A white bone rose from among the soil. Wajik, the severed hand scraped the ground, propelling the body upward.

It appeared to move in slow motion. Even without using nerve acceleration, it felt that way.

This was likely a gift prepared for him by Elizaveta.

This tomb, secretly established even for him, was a gift prepared by Elizaveta, and for the souls of all the heroes who had passed away in the past.

The beautiful shrubs and grand statues stretched across the graveyard felt more splendid than sorrowful. For those who had chosen death heroically, at least there would be a grandeur to look upon after their demise.

Now, the corpses stood to defile this place while the comrades who had found their peace awoke from their long slumber under the vampire’s spell.

Thump, his heart raced. An overwhelming hatred made his mind dizzy.

As soon as Ivan confirmed the weaponry of the corpse that had arisen from the grave, he moved his arm. The zombie, which had been gnawing at his shoulder, crumbled without resistance.

Wajik, Wajik, Kwa-jik. The corpses were crushed and scattered. Ivan continued his slaughter silently and stoically. With a mechanical coldness about him.

It was an utterly numb massacre. His companions halted in their tracks.

“U-uncle…?”

“Shh.”

Covering Ecdysis’s mouth, Enrique shook her head quietly.

“Not now.”

Instead, Enrique readied his knife toward the rising corpses in the graveyard. The undead had been raised using the bodies of the Cleanup Unit.

Given it was a spell used in haste, it likely wouldn’t yield proper performance. Thus, there shouldn’t be any danger in facing the Cleanup Unit alone.

If that were possible, the undead before him would have the power to even contend with the Seven Dragon Lords. They were indeed those who had done just that.

The vampire, who had likely aimed to raid this place, would have sought to commandeer them. If he had been able to subjugate all of them, capturing Enrique would have been a trivial affair.

However, with that plan gone awry, the clumsily awakened undead were nothing more than a means to buy time—

That time would be sufficient.

Even if it was a clumsily cast spell, its source was the Cleanup Unit. And here were Ivan and Enrique. Among those facing the Cleanup Unit, those capable of controlling their emotions were here.

Though it might not have been an intentional tactic, the actions of the vampire forced an almost terrifying anger upon Ivan.

Kwa-jik, Eujijik.

Thus, Ivan moved with restrained emotions. If he let his emotions take over even slightly, it was hard to predict what he would do in such agitation. Enrique noticed this and had to prevent his approaching companions.

Finally, when Ivan had dispatched the approaching zombies and piled the bodies to block the entrance,

The armed corpses from every tomb were now watching him.

These were remains that had been buried for more than four years. Many of them were remains that had lost parts of their limbs in the fierce battles during their lifetimes.

However, recognizing most of them was not difficult.

Their heights, the shapes of their skulls, their physical features, the types of injuries they suffered right before death—he remembered every single detail.

“Ah….”

Ivan dropped the axe he had been holding. The eyeless skeletons continued to stand there, gazing at him.

This was not the sort of reunion he had wanted.

As Ivan silently stared at them, the foremost skeleton took a step forward.

“Step back. Sir Yeremov.”

Oscar blocked his way. To ask Enrique and Ivan to confront them would be an incredibly cruel thing. If it had to be done, he would do it instead.

Yet, the approaching skeleton stopped at a distance where the blade could not reach, simply observing him. As if it had no intention to attack.

Thud.

The skeleton before him snapped its jaw sharply. The embers beneath the surface glimmered oddly, seemingly filled with a hint of laughter.

Once more, thud.Thud. The skeletons lined up behind responded by snapping their jaws together.

They couldn’t attempt conversation, as they lacked vocal cords. There was no viable way to convey sound signals. And casting spells to replace sound wasn’t an option since they were merely skeletons without a shred of mana.

Thus, thud.

As if asking him to listen. They gazed at Ivan, substituting laughter with their actions.

“Ah, aah….”

Ivan recognized the skeletal face before him. Through the visual realm, memories were overlaying. The face of the former person emerged, colored upon the deep hollow of the skull.

He smiled. It was a smile precisely like the one from those days, looking at Ivan.

“Sasha.”

Thud.

“Yes, Colonel. What a sight to behold.”

The one who always walked playfully ahead of the group, the one who had endured until the very end against the curse of Abiditas before collapsing.

Behind him, once again, faces overlaid onto the skeleton’s form. Ivan could see the faces of comrades who had always been with him in his nightmares every single night.

One by one, they knelt. Kneeling on one knee, stretching out their fingers to touch the ground. Returning to the image of reporting back after deactivating their weapons.

The surviving members of the Cleanup Unit report back to duty, Colonel.

Such sounds that could not be heard resounded within.

When Ivan was unable to respond, Sasha raised his head and smiled as he spoke.

Please give the next orders.

“How, how is it?”

He did not believe in miracles. Nor in destiny, or any kind of coincidence.

Such things had never been on his side throughout his life. Therefore, he had never believed in them from the beginning.

However, in this moment, Ivan was able to believe in miracles. A sight he could not explain otherwise.

When the dead were resurrected, it is said that only two instincts remain.

An intention so deeply held as to remain as resentment after death.

Or, the will of the summoner who resurrected them.

Thus, if there is a clear reason for them to disregard the summoner’s will, there would be only one.

Even after death, as deeply held as lingering resentment.

The will of those who swore to protect this land.

That will was looking up at Ivan now. Asking for the next order, the last mission left unfulfilled in life.

Ivan bowed his head and replied in a low voice.

“Save your king.”

The members of the Cleanup Unit receive the order.

The skeletons rose from their positions, raising the personal weapons they had been buried with and thud, thud, cheerfully resounding their jaws together, laughing.

The dead walked. In formation. Those who had forgotten life, but not their duties, walked.

In the depths of Frienkaya. In this city where life and death intertwined, the dead rise against the living to save the living.

   

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