Solo Leveling- Ragnarok-Chapter 312

A blizzard swept relentlessly across a vast, snow-covered plain.

Sirka was wandering in a dream. In this dream, she walked upon a sea with only a thin layer of ice covering its surface.

She was barefoot, and she paused, gazing down at the cold, brittle ice below. It was then she noticed something: Each time her small feet made contact with the ice, tiny cracks formed beneath her. The ice was far too thin, and it was as fragile as an eggshell. She felt as though one wrong step might shatter the surface. Below it, a pitch-black sea, so deep she couldn’t see the bottom, churned in silence.

Gusts of frigid wind swept in from every direction, nearly knocking Sirka off balance, but she quickly regained her footing and pressed forward, unfazed. She was cautious, but she remained confident and didn’t stop. A long trail of footprints stretched behind her.

Sirka was suddenly reminded of her past, of a time when she’d been very young. In fact, she reflected on her entire life, from her birth to this very moment.

Such cold was familiar to her. It was both the playground and the graveyard of the ice elves. The cold retained only the footsteps of those who survived. It had also claimed many of her companions, never to leave their tracks again. To survive in that place was proof of strength.

I am strong.

Sirka urged herself forward, unwilling to be stopped.

She continued her journey, and after some time, she noticed something ahead. She narrowed her eyes. Through the endless swirl of snow, a colossal shadow loomed far away, only faintly visible.

A pillar?

At first, she thought it was a tall column, but upon closer inspection, she realized she was wrong. Only after walking farther did she understand what she was seeing.

The World Tree...

It was the divine tree infused with the power of the Rulers. It was far bigger than any Elvenwood, and its form held the primordial darkness within.

Finally, she had reached her destination. With resolve, she made her way toward it.

“Sirka...”

A voice rang out, causing her to stop. When she turned around, she could see nothing but the swirling snow.

The voice continued, “You have no right to be a Monarch.”

Without warning, the ice beneath Sirka’s feet cracked, giving way. Her bare feet plunged into the freezing black water below, and in that instant, her dream quickly morphed into a nightmare.

The ice is breaking!

The nightmare came so suddenly. The cold winds that surrounded Sirka turned even sharper, and suddenly, her vision was completely obscured by the snow. The cracking sound beneath her feet grew louder, and her pointed ears twitched in alarm.

From where Sirka stood, the ice spread into a web of fractures and shattered. Dark water surged upward. Then from the depths, a hideous creature emerged. It resembled a shark, yet it was far more grotesque and terrifying.

The beast lunged at Sirka, its tooth-filled maw wide open, roaring as it charged. She twisted at the last second, narrowly avoiding its lethal bite.

Unfortunately, this was only the beginning. More monsters spawned from the dark waters and began to rise, and the ice continued to shatter. With nowhere left to stand, Sirka moved desperately, scrambling to keep herself above the water.

The World Tree... I have to reach it!

She pushed Elven Footstep to its limits, leaping from ice fragment to ice fragment like stepping stones. Each jump was precarious. A single misstep, and she would fall prey to the countless monsters in pursuit.

Her dream had completely shifted into a nightmare, one where she was relentlessly hunted by the creatures of the abyss.

Then the voice returned from behind her.

“Give up. That position suits me far better than it does you.”

It belonged to the Apostle of Nightmare, the very being responsible for tainting her dream.

“I will take the Monarch’s power.”

“Don’t be absurd! That power is mine!”

Sirka’s defiance only seemed to amuse him, and the monsters’ attacks grew fiercer. Despite this, she did not change direction, running straight toward the faint silhouette of the World Tree in the distance.

It was then that something unknown suddenly blocked her path. At first, it was merely a quivering mass of pink, but as it took on a more concrete form, Sirka grew shocked.

Wait, is that... me?

The being before her bore her face, but their skin was jet-black, and their hair shone silver like moonlight.

The Apostle had transformed, taking on the appearance of a “dark elf.” His eyes were cold as they scrutinized Sirka’s form.

“It is the power of ice and winter. Your vessel is far too feeble to contain it,” he concluded. “It is more efficient for me to take it.”

In that moment, the nightmare intensified again. A blizzard howled louder than before, obscuring Sirka’s vision entirely. The monsters that had been drooling at her from gaps in the thin ice lunged even more hungrily toward her.

At the same time, the Apostle fired a sharp, icy arrow straight at her. She barely dodged it, but more arrows followed, multiplying just like the monsters.

Sirka kept her focus on her goal.

The World Tree... Just a little further!

Fighting back was impossible, but there was no need to do so. Ignoring the nightmare around her, she pushed on, and the World Tree drew closer with every step. However, the attacks of the Apostle were growing more relentless as well. Eventually, a blade of black ice grazed her leg, leaving a cut.

A smile curled across the dark elf’s lips. “Got you.”

Suddenly, a grotesque tendril sprouted from the wound on Sirka’s leg and wrapped tightly around her ankle. Sirka’s instincts flared in alarm.

An Elvenwood! He’s trying to turn me into one!

“It suits you far better to become something so worthless,” the Apostle said with a pleased smile.

With a flick of his hand, countless root-like tendrils erupted from the black sea at once. They swarmed, trying to drag her into the depths as she danced across the last fragile shards of ice.

N-no!

At the brink of despair, Sirka clenched her eyes shut.

Then a streak of darkness pierced the sky like a bolt of lightning. It sliced through the tentacles, severing them in an instant. Sirka was lifted from the dark waters, her body pulled away from danger.

Huh...?

She was flooded with confusion as she felt herself being cradled in someone’s arms.

“Are you all right?”

“S-Suho? What are you doing here?”

It was Suho who had intervened, placing himself between Sirka and the Apostle of Nightmare. Beside him was Beru, who screeched in fury.

“This is where you escaped to? Ha!” the ant shouted at the Apostle.

He gave a vicious roar from Suho’s shoulder. He was too small to be much of a fearsome spectacle, but the murderous intent in his cry was unmistakable.

Still holding Sirka in his arms, Suho stared down the Apostle of Nightmare with a cold smile.

“I told you we would be seeing each other again soon.”

“To think you really followed me all the way here,” the Apostle said. “Nothing ever goes according to plan when you’re involved, does it?”

Wearing Sirka’s face, the Apostle of Nightmare let out a dry, incredulous laugh. He wasn’t worried. After all, he always had a backup plan, and this time, his original strategy wasn’t entirely ruined.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. My plan has already succeeded. Just the fact that I managed to interrupt the succession ceremony is a victory in itself.”

The Apostle quickly recovered his composure and bowed graciously to Suho.

“I did not choose to evolve into the Apostle of Nightmare for nothing.”

He had gathered information from all over the world, predicting every possible outcome. Even if some things hadn’t gone as planned, the results would remain unchanged. He had even taken into account the possibility that Suho was the son of the Monarch of Shadows, and that he was a shaman for the other Monarchs to boot.

“I rule this nightmare. Not even you can do anything in here.”

With a snap of his fingers, the very fabric of space twisted, and they all plunged into the black sea below.

In that moment, Suho’s shadow vanished as though that dark water was a world where light itself did not exist. It was a void where there could be no darkness.

“Do you see that?” the Apostle of Nightmare said, spreading his arms wide at the center of that emptiness. “Within the nightmare I command, I can do anything. In this realm, I can use abilities that I would otherwise be unable to. That includes your shadow ability.”

Hideous monsters began to swim toward Suho through the dark waters.

“These are called void sharks. They are scavengers that drift through the emptiness, devouring the remnants of broken dimensions.”

The same shark-like monsters that had attacked Sirka now charged at Suho with blinding speed, their open mouths revealing sharp, jagged teeth.

“Hmm... Is that all you’ve got?” Suho said. He didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He cocked his head, still holding Sirka in his arms.

It was Sirka who panicked instead. She struggled against his hold in fear.

“S-Suho! Watch out!”

He gently steadied her, then met the Apostle’s smug gaze and spoke with quiet confidence.

“You seem to be mistaken about something...”

Suho took a step forward through the sea of nothingness—and in defiance of the void, a shadow bloomed beneath his feet.

The Apostle flinched. “W-wait, how—”

“You rule the nightmare, yes.” A cool smile formed on Suho’s face. “But the darkness does not belong to you.”

[Skill: “Monarch’s Domain” has activated.]

“It belongs to my father.”

From Suho’s body, a wave of pitch-black shadow burst forth. With that, the shadow began to devour every attack the Apostle of Nightmare had conjured.

“I guess you haven’t been here before, huh?” Suho asked. “This is the Sea of the Afterlife, the home of the World Tree.”

“K-kill him!”

For the first time, the Apostle truly panicked. In desperation, he poured every ounce of strength he had into his nightmare. The void sharks lunged, and the twisted root-like tentacles closed in, all intending to tear Suho apart.

Suho remained relaxed. He calmly extended his hand and issued a command.

“Arise.”

Time itself seemed to pause. The void sharks, their jaws gaping inches from Suho’s face, suddenly froze, motionless at the tip of his outstretched fingers. Then their grotesque forms began to ripple and distort, unraveling like black smoke before coming together anew. In that moment, new shadow soldiers were born, screeching as they took shape.

The Apostle was struck with disbelief. “H-how can this be?”

“It doesn’t matter if you rule the nightmares. My father has controlled this place for a very long time.”

With those words, the terrifying, nightmarish creatures that had once tormented Sirka now turned their jaws on the Apostle.