Surviving without God

A cascade of curses and crude shouting thundered through the basement.

— Move it, you sons of bitches! — several bandits shouted, waving blades in front of the poor.

But even with the tip of a knife pressed to their backs, no one dared take a step forward. People only cried, trembled, and begged for mercy. Those capable of resistance were already long dead.

— Please... forgive us...

— We’ll do anything! Do you hear me? Please!

Before them, a dark-red magic circle glowed ominously on the floor. Pools of blood scattered everywhere stood as silent proof of what had happened to those who had already stepped into it.

— A-a-ah!

— I beg you!

The poor clung to cracks in the floor with their thin hands, enduring blows and stabs just to avoid being dragged inside. But the bandits were just as desperate. These weren’t mere street scum—they were members of an organization large enough to have formed a secret pact with Luthien.

They roughly understood what was happening in the city. And instinctively felt it: if this chaos ended in Border City’s victory... they would face either life imprisonment or execution. They had to support “their side” at any cost.

— Get in, bastards, now!

A boot pressed down on the back of a woman clutching a child. At the moment when the bandit raised his dagger to cut off the fingers gripping the floor with a death hold—

Crack!

His hand flew off along with the raised weapon. Tracing a curved arc through the air, the strangely shaped dagger returned precisely to its owner’s hand.

— ...

Yet despite the appearance of a savior, the poor did not rejoice. His appearance and clothing differed little from those tormenting them. An X-shaped scar on his face, a black suit... No—if you looked into those empty, lifeless eyes, he seemed like an even more dangerous predator.

— Who the hell are you, you filthy dog?!

— Fuck, whose man are you? This is our sector. Get lost!

One of the bandits suddenly realized the intruder’s face seemed familiar.

— ...Huh?

Nine moved first.

There were many enemies. The space was cramped. But he didn’t hesitate.

He slipped into a narrow gap, twisting his entire body, and wrenched the wrist of the first attacker. Before the man could even scream, the dagger drove in beneath the heart and sharply tore upward diagonally.

Whoosh—

A mace whistled in from the side. Nine bent backward at the waist, letting the blow pass, and with the same motion drove his blade up under the opponent’s jaw. A short choke—and blood burst from the throat.

Whiit—

Someone grabbed him from behind. Nine instantly dropped low and drove his heel straight into the groin.

— Khk—!

Crushing the fallen man’s skull with a precise stomp, he immediately hurled his daggers in a cross at the fourth and fifth attackers. One blade pierced an eye, the other struck straight into the heart.

That was the end of it.

Shaking blood from the sleeve of his suit, Nine said nothing. He simply gave a short nod toward the exit.

— Ah?.. Uh...

After hesitating for a second, the poor rushed out of the basement in a chaotic crowd. Some ran without looking back, others muttered incoherent thanks as they disappeared into the darkness. Brody Wilder’s subordinates waiting outside would lead them to safety.

“The magic circle... there it is.”

Nine stepped forward to destroy it, but someone grabbed his leg. It was the same beaten woman.

— Th-there... in that room... there was a man who tried to help us... I-it looks like he’s badly hurt, those bastards...

Only now did Nine realize why several more bandit corpses were lying in the corner of the basement. Without hesitation, he headed into the room.

— ...

A man in a mask lay there, slumped against the wall. The first thing that stood out was a deep wound stretching from his navel all the way to his side. His body bore traces of a fierce battle: torn flesh, deep scratches, shattered finger joints. But some of the marks clearly weren’t from combat.

Nine silently looked at the dying man—and at his palms, devoid of calluses.

— Name and last words.

The man tried to open his eyes and weakly muttered. His consciousness was already half gone—he was delirious.

— Support group... codename... Blue Badger...

— ...

— Reinforcements... why so late... people... are dying...

His head slowly tilted to the side, powerless. Nine stood still, staring at him without moving.

***

Gunther advanced toward Albino, once again running through the essence of the current operation in his mind.

“We need to force them into a war of attrition.”

The Cult of Abundance was dangerous for one simple reason: survivability. Not only did they have high defense and regeneration, but under the authority “Gluttony,” corpses turned into fuel for their power.

That was why the key to victory was the “Labyrinth.”

Machines did not know hunger. No matter how many you destroyed, they left behind neither flesh nor souls for sacrifice.

No matter how endless Albino’s summoned creatures seemed, in the end they drew power from sacrifices already made. Once cornered, he would be forced to recall his monsters from the city and concentrate them here.

“Moreover, he’ll have to dispel the spells cast on the citizens himself.”

Which meant exhaustion. Fast, brutal exhaustion. A slow siege wouldn’t work—if the upper ranks of the Cult of Abundance realized Albino was in danger, they would accelerate the sacrifices.

Drain Albino dry, throwing everything at him.

That was Gunther’s objective in phase two.

— Stop.

The moment he spoke, dozens of presences within a fifty-meter radius went still. The sabotage units. He had gathered those far more effective in close combat than at long-range shooting.

Tarsha, Blanc, and Night Raven elites of at least the 4th hierarchy. And finally—Ryan.

Of course, with his level of strength, joining such a squad was reckless, but—

[Effect of connection with ally has reached its peak]

When fighting alongside Ryan Parker, the following effect is constantly active: “Echo of Giant’s Blood”: with a certain probability, attacks gain the effect “Stun.”

It was necessary to use gimmicks that only activated near him. And the fact that the big guy had absolutely no talent for shooting also played a role.

— Whew... my legs are shaking.

— Stay close to me. And don’t even think about playing the hero.

— Like this? Right this close?!

— I should’ve left you behind.

While Ryan deliberately played the fool, they closed in on the battlefield. Where grotesque creatures and steel armies collided, the air was saturated with the smell of iron, oil, nauseating slime, and blood. Yet, surprisingly, none of the enemies attacked the saboteurs.

Ding—

All thanks to the faint glow of the “Red Lantern” hovering above their heads. However, the density of enemies had become so high that even this protection was beginning to falter. Gunther gave a short nod to the fighters and withdrew his mana.

Whooosh—

[Unique area: “Red Lantern” disappears]

...And at that same instant—

Whooom—!

A flash of black metal blocked his vision. The massive fist of a golem.

Whoosh—

Gunther twisted his body, evading the strike, and at the same time ignited the “Scarlet Flame” along the blade of the ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) “Two-Handed Sword of Despair.” After lifting the curse from Mikhela, his mastery over the “Flame of Eternal Torment” had clearly increased. Now he could control the fire in an entirely different way.

Zing—!

The flame no longer scattered as sparks. It clung to the blade, compressed into a superheated film. The scarlet glow pulsed, but not a single tongue of flame escaped outward. And then—the strike.

Baaam—!

The compressed fire exploded the moment it made contact. With a thunderous roar, the metal at the point of impact instantly vaporized, and the Nezzi hidden within shattered apart. Gunther immediately carried the blade forward, crushing several more creatures that had lunged at him.

[Blood Flash: 3 strikes accumulated. 3/100]

This was the first major battle since obtaining this sword. The chance to fulfill its demanding condition was high. The powerful technique “Blood Flash,” capable of dealing massive damage to large targets, was absolutely essential. Gunther continued cutting through enemies without taking his eyes off the situation.

“Where is Albino...”

The snow-white priestly robe stood out too much in this chaos, so finding him wasn’t difficult. He stood right in the midst of his summons, focusing all his strength on holding back the mechanical creatures.

“Need to hurry.”

As Gunther pushed forward, the rest of the squad also joined the fight.

Step—step—

Blanc moved first. The girl ran across heaps of debris and bodies as if it were a smooth road. Her role had been decided in advance.

[The one running ahead of the wind throws all her strength into supporting Blanc]

Wuuuuuh—!

Blanc’s snow-white hair and cloak whipped violently. A vortex born at her feet wrapped around her body, taking shape. This miniature storm launched her straight into the heart of the monster swarm. Like an arrow released from a bowstring, she cut through the air at a speed nearly impossible to follow with the eye.

Graaah—!

At the moment the creatures opened their jaws in unison—

Boom—!

Thunder tore through the sky, and everything was momentarily flooded with azure light. What burst from Tarsha’s fingertips was no ordinary lightning. A massive surge of mana, amplified by the staff of the Ruler of the Oceans, surged through her body like a storm wave.

Boom—!

Bolts like spears connecting sky and earth pierced through space. Tarsha’s eyes widened as if she herself couldn’t believe the power of the spell she had just unleashed. Blanc seized the opening and glided through the air on the shield “Seren Gless” straight toward the target.

— Kid! — Tarsha raised her staff again.

Crackle—!

As dozens of creatures turned to vapor and ash, the remnants of lightning arced and struck elsewhere.

— Wh-what the hell—?! — Ryan shouted, stunned, his hair standing on end from static electricity. The air around him trembled with heat and plasma. Tarsha cheerfully yelled:

— Newbie! Gather it properly! Protect the commander with that!

It was a passive skill from the deity “The Age-Old Tree That Endures Thunder.” Ryan’s body, like a lightning rod, attracted the residual currents, and electricity began to flow along the surface of his hammer. Ryan stared at the azure-glowing weapon, mesmerized, then clenched his teeth.

— Hey!

When the hammer slammed into the ground, the accumulated lightning exploded outward. A deafening, paralyzing discharge. Not only the creatures, but even machines whose circuits burned out from the surge froze in place. This was exactly the kind of growth as a “CC-tank” that Gunther had expected from his friend.

Thanks to his comrades’ efforts, Blanc reached the place where Mikhela was being held.

— G-good day, Madam Mayor! — the girl in the rabbit mask, descending on a flying shield, left the raccoon beastkin momentarily speechless.

— You...

— I’m with Gunther! I came to get you!

Several summoned creatures guarding her attacked at once—but it was futile.

[The one running ahead of the wind fiercely narrows her eyes!]

In that instant, Blanc’s fists became a blur. A flurry of strikes like a professional boxer. Along the path of her movements, blades of wind tore the enemies apart.

[The one running ahead of the wind proudly spreads her wings]

Rescuing Mikhela proceeded smoothly. Hope began to appear on the faces of the saboteurs—and those covering them from the temple roof.

...Only Gunther felt something different. The tension, having reached its peak, now compressed into a single point before an inevitable explosion.

“Time.”

The moment of truth. It was time to block Albino’s main move.