Silence settled for a moment at that.

“......Are you saying you will deal with that horde?”

At Reber’s cautious question, Alon nodded.

“Yes. However, there is something I need you to do.”

“What... is it?”

Alon nodded and stated the condition, and Reber’s eyes widened.

“......You mean all the migrants must be exposed to the horde?”

“Yes.”

Alon nodded.

At that, Reber fell silent.

Through the journey over the past several weeks, Reber knew how strong Alon’s group was.

No, there was no way he could not know.

For one thing, Alon was the master who brought around Blackie, whom they had once called the Guardian.

And was that all?

The swordsman named Evan was only a little further ahead than the average swordsman, but in Penia’s case, she was strong enough to make Reber’s jaw drop.

But even knowing all of that, Reber could not easily accept Alon’s words.

He undoubtedly knew their strength, but separate from that, the horde spread out before them was overwhelming enough to steal even his will to fight.

To the point that he wondered whether even the god they had served could deal with those flesh masses if that god came.

“......”

And if they used the migrants as bait, as Alon said, then from that point on, it would be the same as making a choice they could no longer take back.

Once the flesh masses locked onto a target, they chased it until the target stopped breathing or changed into one of their own.

In other words, to put it simply, if Alon failed to deal with the flesh masses, the only thing left for them would be death.

“Hoo.”

But despite that, there was one reason Reber could not easily refuse.

Because he knew there was no other method in the first place.

‘......It is already too late to go back.’

Reber turned his gaze behind him.

What he saw were the countless people of his own kind who had trusted him and followed him all the way here.

Every one of their faces held anxiety and despair, and on their visibly gaunt faces, hope could no longer be seen.

It had already been a forced march continuing for several weeks.

In the meantime, several of his people had lost family.

And their food was slowly running out as well.

In other words, even if they turned back like this, the only ending left for them would be either being attacked by flesh masses on the way, or, even if they succeeded in returning, starving to death without food on land that had already been eroded.

That was why, after struggling with it, Reber—

“......Understood.”

—in the end, nodded.

And a short while later.

“Haa—”

Penia Crysinne let out a deep sigh.

Because the forced march that had continued for weeks was enough to make even her tired.

However, her sigh was not because of exhaustion from the forced march, but because of the terrifyingly vast army visible up ahead, and because of Alon standing before that cliff.

‘Can he do it......?’

Looking at Alon standing before that cliff, Penia thought that without realizing it.

Of course, she knew Alon’s strength, and she had seen it from directly beside him.

He was strong.

Strong enough to receive her worship.

And further than that, strong enough to receive the worship of all mages.

But even so.

Penia knew.

The absence of laws.

No matter how strong Alon was, that was only when laws existed. If laws did not exist, his power had no choice but to fall.

To begin with, Alon’s strength was a strength created by constantly replenishing magic power through the Reverse Heavens he possessed while in a situation where he could make varied use of laws.

......Coldly speaking, that was reality.

“Hoo—”

Penia let out another sigh.

In truth, she wanted to believe in Alon.

He was a man she wanted to believe even if he told a lie.

But no matter how true that was, this was not an issue she could easily believe in.

Because it was not so much her own life as his—Alon’s life—that was at stake.

That was why.

......She could not easily believe.

Even though she was aware to some extent that if he had spoken with confidence, then there must be something he was relying on.

‘......It is probably related to systemization.’

Over the past several weeks, Penia had already seen Alon deeply pondering magic again and again, and had discussed it with him directly.

But if she truly tried to guess the contents of those discussions and consider Alon’s achievement—

‘Stop.’

Penia struck down her own thoughts.

Because now that the situation had progressed this far, they were no longer useful thoughts anyway.

That was why she decided to believe in Alon.

And began making her own preparations.

If Alon failed.

So that she could at least take him and Evan and escape.

And around the time she made that decision, the migrants appeared below the cliff where Alon stood.

With nothing but anxious faces.

And.

■-?

The flesh masses recognized the migrants, and—

“Hoo—”

Alon let out a light breath.

####

■■■?

■■-?

■■■■-!!

■■■■■■■■■-!!!!

Grotesque cries rang across the horizon.

At the same time, as though they had been waiting, the flesh masses began rushing madly toward the migrants.

Like an enormous colony shifting in motion, the sight of flesh masses too numerous to even dare count swarming toward the migrants in perfect order was overwhelming enough to make anyone lose their will to fight.

Perhaps it was a number so great that even Alon, with laws intact, would be overwhelmed for a moment.

No, Alon had already realized it.

That with numbers on this scale, even if he were in a state where he could use his full power, he probably could not kill them all at once.

But though he was clearly aware of that, Alon’s eyes were calm.

Was it because, since the migrants had become bait, there would be time for them to flee?

No.

Was it because Blackie was there in the worst-case scenario?

That was not it either.

The reason Alon was calm.

That was—

“Hoo—”

Because he was there.

With a smooth sound, Alon’s left hand rose.

What formed with it was a small sphere of magic power.

A feeble sphere of magic power, the very first thing Alon had made when he first learned “magic.”

Over the past several weeks, Alon had spent quite a long time thinking about how he should establish his own system.

However, the journey to Keremenia was, in many ways, a poor situation for Alon to comfortably create a system.

Not only were there no laws engraved into the world here, but he had been tormented by flesh masses all day long.

That was why, strictly speaking, Alon still did not yet possess a proper system of his own.

It was only natural.

The time given to him was short.

And even that time had not been given to him in full.

Realistically, there was no way he could create his own system in such a short time.

Because his talent could be evaluated as having aptitude for magic, but it was nothing beyond that.

Even so, certainty had settled in Alon’s eyes.

“Reverse Heavens—”

When Alon murmured, stars began to rise in the sky that had been filled only with red light.

Brilliantly, as though covering the intestinal eye that pulsed as if watching over this entire world.

And with that, the sphere on Alon’s palm—

Crackle—!

—began to take the form of electricity.

A very faint crackling.

It looked better than the weak magic sphere from before, but even if fired in that state, the sphere looked as though it would have trouble killing even one of the onrushing flesh masses.

Hissssss—!

It slowly began to narrow, and soon changed into the shape of a long, thin rod.

And at that point.

“Hoo—”

Alon let out another breath.

Still, Alon had no clear system.

However, over the time that had passed.

Within the anguish he had crossed again and again, Alon had gained one realization.

A realization about none other than laws.

Crack-crackle—!

Until now, Alon had used phrases and hand seals as if it were only natural, through the laws engraved into the world.

What sentence caused what alteration.

What phrase caused what kind of transformation.

What hand seal gave what kind of variation to magic power.

That was all he knew.

But after passing through the battle against the Seat of War.

After dying hundreds of times in that space where he did not die.

After using magic he had once placed limits on while dying.

Alon realized it.

‘Sentences are impossible, but phrases and hand seals can be used without speaking them, and without forming them.’

That phrases and hand seals were merely means to show phenomena that could be caused a little more easily by making a promise with the world.

Of course, most mages did not recognize that.

Because the phenomena called forth by phrases would look to mages like qualities close to the incomprehensible.

But Alon knew.

Through the hundreds of spells he had unfolded by staking his own death, Alon had already realized it.

The essence of phrases and hand seals.

The thin arrow above Alon’s hand changed.

First, it became blurred and turned into mist.

Next, into the form of a sharp needle.

After that, into the form of distorted lightning.

It was a structure that could not be made unless through phrases and hand seals.

But naturally, Alon had no intention of stopping in this state.

Alon had “understood” phrases and hand seals.

That meant—

Crackle—! Crack-crack-crackle—!!!

—that he could twist the “phenomenon” even further according to his will as much as he wanted.

Rumble-crunch—!

Alon looked at the “lightning” formed in his hand.

The eerie lightning, bursting sparks in every direction as if it might fire even at this very moment, was swelling its scale as it took in the magic power pouring from the Reverse Heavens.

“That is—”

“!!”

At the flash erupting from Alon’s hand, the migrants who had been trembling in fear only moments ago all raised their gazes to the sky at once and showed awe.

But Alon had no intention of ending it here.

No, he could not end it.

This much was still not enough to sweep away the flesh masses.

That was why he needed laws, but—

Unfortunately, Alon could not use “sentences.”

Phrases and hand seals were things that made phenomena he could already cause a little easier to use, which was why he could use them, and why he could materialize them now.

But laws were different.

Laws were promises with the world.

A privilege created for True Mages by the Divine blood that would appear later on through the “Heavenly Law Creation.”

A privilege exclusive to True Mages, one that made impossible things possible.

But even knowing that.

Grin—

Alon smiled.

He still could not use laws.

But it did not matter.

Because Alon had—

Fwoooosh—!

—divine power.

Rooooooar—!!!

Divine power burst out from Alon’s body in every direction in an instant.

Purple divine power that hid the red world began swallowing the world.

The purple divine power, not the blue divine power Alon had shown until now, was certainly alien.

But rather, precisely because of that, Alon did not erase his smile.

All this time, Alon had received the divine power of Kalannon, the One Who Receives Lightning.

That was why the divine power he used had always taken the form of lightning.

But what about now?

The faith he received was no longer faith offered to Kalannon.

The faith offered to him was faith offered to “Alon” himself.

And that faith was faith offered because they recognized Alon as the “mage” and “Divine blood” he had shown himself to be until now.

That was why he could do it.

Into the magic that would be fired from now on.

He could newly engrave the “law” Alon had thought of.

■■■■■■■■■■■■—!!

Until every flesh mass died.

Until every star in the sky disappeared—

Crack-crack-crack-crackle—!!!!

—he could engrave conduction.

And so, at last.

Crackle—

What was made.

Was a small lightning bolt.

Lightning small enough to fit in Alon’s palm.

But Alon smiled and extended his index and middle fingers, aiming at the horde of flesh masses charging from far away.

For now.

—Incomplete Original.

That was enough.

—Predatory Star Lightning.

Tap—

A small sound of collision was heard.

And then.

──────────────────!!!!!

Lightning that ate stars fell upon the world.