Chapter 109
The distorted space returned to its original state. Ian gasped for breath.
“Damn it.”
He muttered a quiet curse.
“Haah… haah…”
Even breathing felt arduous. Calm down. Nothing happened. All he did was look at it. All he did was meet its gaze.
It was only a fleeting moment. Not a long duration. No conversation was exchanged. It was one-sided—he merely heard its voice.
Slowly. Slowly, he steadied his breath.
Wait, how does one breathe again?
What was once a natural act now felt alien.
He was disoriented. It would have been nice if someone had been there to help, but there was no one.
Kneeling and bowing his head, he pressed his neck with trembling hands and looked down at the holy sword he held.
Though divine energy seeped into his palm, its power was far weaker than usual.
His gaze fell on the Orleha Tasseled Cord attached to the hilt—a sacred relic gifted to him by Semid, the head of the Flaming Household.
It was said to be woven from the fur of a divine beast and consecrated threads, but its edge was now blackened. Ian gripped the holy sword tightly and activated Bane of Evil.
Whoosh!
The mana coursing through his body turned to flames, enveloping him entirely. The scorching heat coursed through his veins, and in that instant, his stifled breathing finally broke free.
“Haahhhh!”
Only now did he begin to recover. Yet it felt as though all the strength was draining from his body. Just from meeting its gaze, he had ended up like this. He wiped his face with his palm.
‘What I just faced…’
It must have been an Outer God.
No doubt about it. That overwhelming presence, that suffocating pressure—it wasn’t a beast or a mere apostle.
More than anything, the distorted space and the aurora-like darkness descending from the sky reminded him of an event he had seen before his regression.
It was the same phenomenon that occurred when the hero Abella fought and repelled an Outer God.
Although this instance was far smaller in scale, the opponent being an Outer God was undeniable.
Had he stared at it a moment longer, not only his mind but even his soul might have been tainted.
The thought made him shudder. He had an idea who it might be. No, he couldn’t help but narrow it down.
‘The Faceless One.’
What Garavan had said back at the Helm Fortress wasn’t wrong.
“What on earth have you been up to? An Outer God specifically mentioned you and demanded you be offered as a sacrifice.”
Those words replayed in his mind.
‘Why?’
Why would an Outer God be interested in him?
Ian tried to recall everything he knew about the Faceless One, but his knowledge was sparse.
The Faceless One was an entity that bestowed forbidden knowledge in exchange for constructing idols and offering sacrifices.
This was his first time confronting it in this life—and even then, only twice.
Had he done anything to attract its attention?
‘Well, perhaps I have.’
Still, he’d never had direct contact with an Outer God.
The incidents at the defense lines, or the feats accomplished by heroes, champions, or pillars of the world, paled in comparison to anything he had done. So, why?
Was it his talent, as if chosen by the lords?
No, that wasn’t it either. While his growth had indeed been swift, that was only due to his regression. He hadn’t yet reached the level of hierarchy.
No matter how much he thought about it, there was no reason for an Outer God to take interest in him.
Yet, a sudden, chilling thought struck him.
‘Spiritual Star….’
If Ian had to pinpoint something that set him apart from others, it was this and nothing else.
The Spiritual Star he gained the moment he witnessed the Outer God that hero Abella defeated.
He could confidently claim it was a star achieved through unparalleled feats of brilliance.
Though it had been purely luck that he acquired it, wasn’t there a saying that even luck could be considered a skill?
‘Does it know how my Spiritual Star was formed?’
If that was true—if that’s what had drawn its interest—then his very existence was like wandering among bees with his body slathered in honey.
As the thought crossed his mind, cold sweat trickled down his back.
‘Wow… this is far more dangerous than I thought.’
He couldn’t even appeal for help to the Pantheon. Revealing this could easily lead to his execution, under the pretext that doing so might invite Outer Gods.
In the end, he saw only two paths forward: clinging to the hero’s side or becoming strong enough to not require their help.
Either way, one thing was certain: he had to grow stronger than he was now.
After all, heroes didn’t keep just anyone around—they surrounded themselves with those who were useful or beneficial.
Take someone like the chatty hero Gailgron, who traveled alone because he lacked such companions.
Suppressing his nausea, Ian steadied himself and got to his feet.
“Feeling better now?”
A gentle voice rang in his ears.
“!?”
Ian whirled around, instinctively swinging his holy sword.
Swish!
With a sharp sound of air being sliced, the blade stopped at the neck of a woman.
It hadn’t stopped because Ian chose to—it had been halted. An invisible force of magic was holding the blade in place.
Ian could have severed it with effort, but the moment his gaze landed on the captivating woman before him, his eyes faltered.
Eivia.
The Kingslayer of Ten Thousand Demons stood before him.
‘A mask… am I still wearing it?’
Ian reflexively touched his face, only to feel the hard texture of wood instead of soft skin.
Eivia chuckled as she observed him.
“What’s this? Surely you don’t think a mask like that will keep me from recognizing you?”
“……”
“Adorable. That sense of relief you feel from thinking you’ve hidden your face with just a mask.”
“……”
“Say something, will you?”
“……”
“Do you really believe I wouldn’t recognize you? I have an excellent memory, you know. Covering your face? Hiding your voice? It doesn’t matter. Your eyes through the mask, your hair, your physique, the sword in your hand… Did you truly think I wouldn’t know it was you?”
Eivia raised her left hand and tapped the air with her index finger. At that moment, the magic imbued in the mask dissipated, causing it to fall powerlessly from his face.
Thud.
Ian looked down at the wooden mask rolling on the ground.
‘This time, it’s no illusion?’
She had physical form—but Ian still regarded Eivia with suspicion.
She smiled radiantly, her expression alone brightening the atmosphere around her.
However, her vibrant demeanor turned piercingly sharp in an instant as her eyes glinted dangerously.
“Ah, so it is you. That arrogant mercenary from back then. The one who trespassed into my domain and stole my mana stone. I wanted to snap you in half right then and there, but I never thought I’d see you here of all places.”
Her tone was chillingly menacing, making it hard to believe she was once a queen.
Ian checked his condition. While the battle with Tagroa had taken its toll, he still had plenty of mana left.
After glimpsing the Outer God, Ian felt drained but had not yet reached his limit.
If he had to fight, he could.
How he would fare against Eivia, a Level 7 threat, was anyone’s guess.
If he hoped to increase his odds, all he could do was wait for Bellen to arrive.
“Were you the Mathis Inspector?”
Eivia, who had casually pushed aside the holy sword aimed at her neck, blinked.
“What? Huh. You’re not fazed by me at all?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Tell me, do you like men?”
Ian frowned.
What nonsense was this? He began to doubt whether the Kingslayer of Ten Thousand Demons had truly said that.
Had she appeared here just to make idle conversation? Yet Eivia’s expression was dead serious.
“From that reaction, I suppose not. But then, how can you remain so unaffected by me? Your heartbeat is steady, your gaze doesn’t waver as you look at me. Last time, you might not have caught my scent, but that’s not the case now.”
“Isn’t it rather arrogant to assume every man would fall for you?”
Eivia shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly.
“Not arrogance. It’s the truth. If my appearance were a talent, I’d surpass any hero, don’t you think? It’s more of a curse, really. Those who look at me can’t help but fall for me unless they possess an unshakable mind. But you—there’s nothing. No sign of infatuation. How curious. And you haven’t even reached spiritual ascension.”
“You’re avoiding my question.”
Eivia tilted her head.
“What? The Mathis Inspector? Yeah, that’s me.”
“…Then why seek me out only now? If you knew it was me, you could have revealed yourself earlier.”
“Hmm. Well, to be honest, at first, I didn’t think it was you. Besides, the woman next to you was far more captivating.”
“Are you talking about Bellen?”
“Yup. Those who can wield lightning magic are rare, you know? I thought she’d be useful to have around, so I tried to charm her. But, oh my, what a surprise—she turned out to be a member of the Cordelia family. That only made me more determined, but no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t sway her. Must be because of her Spiritual Star.”
Ian’s expression hardened.
“What have you done to her?”
“She’s probably fighting one of my illusions right about now. She’ll figure it out soon enough and come here. Unfortunately, since someone closed the Outer Gate, I’ve run out of mana to draw from.”
“So the mana vanishing from the Outer Gate was your doing?”
Eivia, perched lightly on Ian’s back, paused, genuinely surprised.
Even those familiar with magic would take time to grasp such a detail.
That someone who wasn’t even a mage had deduced this was hard for her to believe.
“Who knows? But shouldn’t you be worrying about yourself? I could slice your neck here and now with just a sliver of mana.”
“If you intended to kill me, you would’ve done so already. Instead of this back-and-forth.”
Eivia chuckled softly. Her form flickered, and in the next instant, she was behind him, wrapping her arms around him.
Yet there was no sensation. Even when she poked his cheek with a finger, the touch was faint and ethereal.
“You’re right.”
She’d had plenty of chances. After witnessing the Outer God, Ian had been defenseless. If she had struck then, he wouldn’t have been able to stop her.
“And yet, I stood here observing you because of sheer curiosity. You know what I mean, right? That sight you saw—the gaze from the hole in the sky. Do you know what it was? The gods of the Outer Sea don’t reveal themselves so easily. They prefer summoning their consciousness quietly to meet in isolated spaces.”
She whispered in a low voice.
“To avoid the notice of the Twelve Sovereigns, of course. Yet that being seems quite interested in you. It showed itself openly, as if unconcerned with the Sovereigns’ attention. What could it have seen in you?”
“That’s what I want to know. The interest of an Outer God is the last thing I desire.”
“Fufufu! But it’s already too late. And now I’m interested too. Do you think he’ll like it if I bring you to the one I serve?”
Ian ignited flames.
Eivia, who had been behind him, flinched and retreated in alarm.
“Whoa! That’s hot!”
Her form grew faint once more. Seeing this filled Ian with a sudden wave of relief—it confirmed that the Eivia here was just an illusion.
At the same time, he was astonished. The fact that this illusion alone had managed to hold Bellen at bay for so long was remarkable.
“If you’re just here to chatter uselessly, you can leave now.”
“I was planning on it anyway. But, oh, my pride’s a little hurt. Are you really so unaffected by me?”
“……”
“Just wait. I won’t let you die peacefully.”
Eivia scowled, her voice laced with warning.
And then, at that very moment—
“Ian!”
Bellen appeared, calling his name.
The one who reacted wasn’t Ian—it was Eivia.
“Oh my?”
———-