Surviving without God

Step—step—

Gunther’s group didn’t hesitate. They burst forward, heading for the shoreline where the Crimson Pearl was anchored.

The Great Admiral was so weakened he could barely move. Entering battle while carrying him would be suicide. If he were captured again, everything they had done would be for nothing.

Panting, the squad pushed through heavy sand and leapt across jagged reefs.

“Haah... haah... Yuria, support Rietta. She’s completely spent.”

“By the way... what Dimona showed us... what the hell was that?”

“Looks like Gunther knows...”

“Did he come back from the future again this time?”

“Whoa...”

If there was one positive thing in this situation, it was the composure of his companions. Hardened by countless crises, they kept their cool even now.

Running at the front while supporting the Great Admiral, Gunther cast a glance toward the center of the archipelago.

“...Yeah. I know what that is.”

The grotesque sphere of flesh hadn’t yet come into view—but its shadow already loomed in his mind.

“They’re using the Thunder Convergence Ritual... They must be truly cornered.”

As the others suspected, Gunther knew the true nature of the ritual the Cult of Trust was performing. In the game, it appeared as a secret technique at the heart of the Luthien Theocracy during the mainland assault.

The Thunder Convergence Ritual.

Victims fused rapidly into a single spherical mass. Bodies and consciousness dissolved into one another until only a colossal mound of flesh remained.

“...And all that life force and mana gets concentrated into a single chosen Apostle.”

A living battery.

The problem was the scale. The number of paladins and priests stationed on this island was enormous.

Luthien’s intent was obvious: no matter the cost, eliminate Gunther’s group here. Then, with the Great Admiral returned, forcibly secure dominance over the Northern Sea.

“Uuuuuuu—”

Gunther understood. If a ritual of this scale was completed...

“There won’t be any ‘normal’ way to win.”

He stopped, still supporting the Admiral.

“We’re here. Get on the ship.”

The Great Admiral’s eyes widened slightly.

“Wait... this is—”

Like a true veteran of the sea, he recognized it instantly.

“It belongs to me now,” Gunther said briefly. “Its death energy is weakened at the moment. Staying aboard for a short time won’t harm you.”

“I’ll be alone?”

“Yes. Our allies are fighting in the coastal waters. ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) You’ll reunite with them.”

The Great Admiral stared at him in silence.

Gunther’s expression stiffened. He had been worried the man might stubbornly insist on staying to fight.

Fortunately, he wasn’t a fool.

“Come back alive,” the Great Admiral said quietly. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Gunther narrowed his eyes.

“You mentioned the name Ellen earlier.”

“Yes. Don’t tell me you don’t know her when you look exactly alike.”

“...She’s my mother.”

The Great Admiral, now aboard the ship, slowly nodded.

“I see... as expected.”

A faint light flickered in his eyes.

“When you return, I’ll tell you about Ellen.”

He paused.

“About the woman I loved more than anyone in this world.”

“...What?”

The companions froze, staring at Gunther.

For a moment, silence.

Parco smirked and clapped Gunther on the shoulder.

“Oh-ho, Gunther. Looks like the Great Admiral could’ve been your old man.”

Gunther’s brow twitched.

“...Shut up, Parco.”

The Great Admiral burst into a hearty laugh.

“Unfortunately... it was unrequited.”

Then his gaze swept across the group.

“Go.”

His voice carried the scent of the sea.

“Go and save Nereus. Save the innocent. Save this ocean.”

.

.

.

“Let’s move.”

Gunther turned and ran.

***

“Alright, I get the general idea.”

In the darkness, Tarsha Everlight’s voice rang out, brisk and sharp.

“Once the fusion of the paladins and priests is complete, they’ll try to throw the captives into that cursed sphere. So we need to pull them out before that.”

“Exactly.”

“My team: me, Parco, Blanc, Instructor Zahara, Rietta, and Yuria.”

Unease spread across the group.

“Isn’t your team too weak?” Tarsha narrowed her eyes at Gunther. “Levain, the furry mayor, and you? What exactly are the three of you planning? Seriously, the mayor can’t even fight. Shouldn’t he have gone with the Admiral?”

As the mayor’s ears drooped, Gunther felt a strange gratitude toward the Vanguard of the Dark Night. If not for the revelation of his regression, this plan would have faced far more resistance.

“The plan is simple,” Gunther said. “We eliminate the Anchor.”

The Thunder Convergence Ritual.

Dozens, hundreds of lives channeled into one. The one at the center wasn’t just blessed—they became the node holding the flow together.

The Anchor.

“And who is it?”

“...Verion Heinz.”

“...What? Who did you just say?!”

Faces darkened instantly.

This wasn’t just an enemy commander.

“Didn’t know that bastard was here.”

“...I want to be on the Anchor team.”

The one who commanded the battle where they lost their former platoon leader. The one who brutally killed Raymond. The inquisitor who branded entire villages as heretics and burned them—including Ryan’s home.

Verion Heinz was their hatred given form.

“He’s already at the threshold of the 5th hierarchy,” Parco said grimly. “With the ritual... he’ll go beyond the 6th.”

Silence.

“And how are you planning to deal with that?..”

“We have a chance. No—we have to do it. If we divert more people to our side, you won’t be able to save the victims.”

“That’s true, but...”

Gunther shook his head.

“This is actually our opportunity.”

Everyone turned to him at once.

“They planned to overwhelm us with numbers. But now they’ve concentrated everything into one point. They tied hundreds of combat units into a single target. If we neutralize the Anchor—we win.”

“...So we have to stall a monster of absurd power. Great.”

[The Drug-Addicted Saint looks at you with concern]

[Alphonse of Red Street shakes his head, wondering what you’re hoping for with negative Karma]

[The King of Ninety-Nine Defeats seems to understand your intent and nods slowly]

“We’ll move first. Once we engage the Anchor and draw attention, you act.”

No more discussion was needed.

Gunther leapt toward a preselected sniper position. Over his shoulder hung Mikhela. Behind him, just as agile, ran Levain Bernecker, carrying his most powerful rifle.

Whoosh—

[Shadow Step activated]

The Vanguard of the Dark Night hadn’t fully vanished yet.

From boulder to boulder. From cliff to cliff.

They climbed near-vertical rock faces like mountain goats, crossing terrain impossible for ordinary people.

The Sunken Crown.

The central basin of the archipelago was surrounded by jagged cliffs like the points of a crown. Under normal circumstances, reaching this sniper position would be impossible.

But Gunther made it possible.

“I’ll lure Verion here. Somewhere we can fight without interference.”

Below, the second group finished preparations. Their method was no less unusual—Rietta’s telekinesis would guide them through paths the enemy couldn’t predict.

Boom—boom—!

The roar of naval battle thundered in the distance.

“...They’re holding,” Mikhela muttered. “Surprisingly evenly.”

The enemy forces—Black Wind and the traitors of Blue Blade—were overwhelming. Their allies were barely holding on.

Yes, they had anomalies like Moon Wolf and Cheonmae.

But the enemy had monsters too.

Armark. Isolda.

Without Viktor’s 5th unit, defeat would have been certain.

Everyone was fighting in their place.

So he had to finish his part.

Whoosh—

Gunther used Shadow Step one last time.

Click—

At the top of a dizzying cliff, Levain set up the rifle. A creation of Dramcrow. A magical weapon that drained mana from both the user and the surroundings, concentrating it into a devastating shot.

Even Gunther wouldn’t survive a direct hit without protection.

“...Though this is just bait.”

Below, the mass writhed.

Hundreds of bodies fused into a single grotesque organism. Flesh melding with flesh, limbs entangled, faces distorted.

And before it stood two figures.

Ardel.

And Verion Heinz.

“Gunther.”

Levain spoke suddenly.

“You don’t need to feel guilty.”

“...About the Tablet? Going back in time?”

“Yes. I was worried you’d start judging yourself.”

Gunther stayed silent.

Going back. Erasing tragedies.

No one knew if it was even possible.

But he couldn’t deny it—he had avoided thinking about it.

Click.

Levain raised the rifle.

“My sister. My father. My mother...”

He pressed his eye to the scope.

“I’d be lying if I said I don’t want to see them again.”

“...Levain.”

“But Gunther—the one who survived all that pain... that’s me too.”

Gunther froze.

“If that tragedy never happened... would I be here? Fighting beside you? Saving people with Tarsha, Blanc, and Parco?”

A quiet laugh.

“The beginning wasn’t my choice.”

His finger settled on the trigger.

“But everything after that... was.”

A faint smile appeared.

“I choose... to fight with you until the end.”

BOOOOM—

The shot shattered the night.

The bullet tore through the air, crossing the basin.

In that flash of light, Levain turned his head.

“Maybe it’s betrayal... to my family.”

A shrug.

“...But it’s also faith. That what lies ahead matters more.”

.

.

.

At that exact moment—

Behind Levain—

The figure of Verion Heinz appeared.