Alon calmly let out a breath and looked ahead once more.

Above the canyon, soldiers stood armed with bows and spears, ready to rain them down at any moment.

On the cliffs, monsters with abnormally long limbs drooled incessantly.

And ahead of them, a massive congregation of cultists blocked their path—so large in number it drew a sigh by itself.

That wasn’t all.

The red tendrils wielded by Rumurfa, currently holding back Rine’s golden crown, had begun to engulf the entire canyon, as if to show they still had power to spare.

“—”

“Ah—”

Thus began a vicious cycle.

Fear gave birth to despair, and despair birthed grief.

It spread, creating despair and grief in others, and in turn, more fear.

That endless loop stripped away hope from everyone present.

Just as those before them desired.

Alon assessed the situation with cold precision.

In this situation, breaking through such an overwhelming army and escaping toward the alliance was virtually impossible.

If the enemies before him were at the level of the priests they had faced before, it might have been possible.

But they weren’t some weak rabble.

‘They must be able to wield divine power.’

The sickening divine energy emanating from the soldiers made that clear.

It told him unmistakably—these foes were on an entirely different level from those they’d fought until now.

And that wasn’t all.

‘…Apostles.’

Alon frowned as he looked at the two apostles standing ahead.

Both wore expressions twisted in pleasure and were obvious threats.

One had already revealed their power, but the other remained a mystery.

In other words, even if Alon were to act alone now, the chance of escape was slim.

Even if he took down the apostles, he couldn’t possibly defeat every soldier present.

That’s why a change was needed.

A change that could turn this crisis around.

And to bring that change—hope was needed once more.

Alon turned his gaze behind him.

The first to enter his sight was Ryanga, standing with a hardened expression.

Next was Nangwon, holding his sister’s hand.

Behind Ar, who trembled just as much, were soldiers sinking into despair.

Watching them, Alon chewed his lips.

Countless words that could ignite their fighting spirit flashed through his mind—only to vanish again.

What should he say?

What story would help?

How could he break the chain of despair?

In a time shorter than a blink—

Alon pondered, pondered, and pondered again.

“Rangban.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

In the end, he made a choice.

“Yes?”

To say nothing at all.

Instead—

Crack!

—to show them.

Without answering Rangban’s puzzled response, Alon simply walked forward and summoned his divinity.

Zzzzt!

His black coat crackled with lightning, and the gray world was suddenly dyed with brilliant blue lightning.

Two horns sprouted from above his head.

Thunderlight flickered in his black eyes.

And at last, what appeared was the god of lightning—who had saved other races from peril time and again.

But Alon knew.

This wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t enough to dispel the despair clouding the soldiers behind him.

Nor enough to obliterate the cultists of Baarma, who were already preparing to strike the moment he changed.

So—

“Hoo—”

Alon took it one step further.

—!!!!!

The moment Alon cloaked himself in lightning, the monsters screamed and charged toward the soldiers.

Penia quickly cast a wide-range shield to create a barrier.

The monsters slammed into the shield.

But the barrier only covered the troops within.

Alon, who had already moved toward the enemy army, stood exposed beyond its reach.

—!!!

Realizing this, the monsters instantly changed direction and lunged at Alon.

In a flash, they were within striking distance.

At that moment—

“Permafrost—”

Alon flicked his finger.

Crackkkk—!!!!

Black magic surged from Alon’s gauntlet as an icy chill swept through the area.

It was a spell Alon always used when fighting formidable foes.

A spell created simply to stand upon a ‘land of permafrost,’ anticipating the loss of magical ability due to divine constraints.

But now, things were different.

Zzzzzzzzt~!!!!

From within the frost, blue lightning erupted and electrocuted all the monsters near Alon, killing them instantly.

—!!!!!

Horrific screams rang out.

But the monsters already caught within the permafrost zone turned helplessly to black ash.

“…! Full assault—!”

Watching the scene, Rumurfa shouted in a panic.

But at that very moment, six arms formed behind Alon’s back.

As the cultists, under the apostle’s command, all rushed to kill Alon—

Crack—

The first Ice Seal formed.

After gaining his divinity, the first thing Alon discovered with Penia’s research was shapeshifting.

The second Ice Seal formed.

But shapeshifting hadn’t been Alon’s original goal.

It was merely an incidental result—Alon’s true research objective was something else.

At last, the third Ice Seal formed.

His research was focused on using magic while enveloped in divinity.

Alon, who had dedicated immense time to this study, was only able to reach a conclusion after coming here.

The fourth Ice Seal.

Magic used while cloaked in divinity carries the traits of that divinity.

Alon looked ahead.

The cultists, already closing in under the apostle’s orders, raised their weapons to strike at his neck.

Hundreds of monsters leapt toward him, trampling over the bodies of their electrocuted kin.

Eyes wide with fanatical madness, they charged.

But even in the midst of it all, Alon formed the fifth Ice Seal.

He looked up at the sky.

There, clouds grew thicker, darkening the ashen world even more.

The magic he created, imbued with the traits of divinity.

And then—

The moment the sixth Ice Seal was completed.

Trait Transformation.

Sixth Ice Seal complete.

Thunder Ice.

Along with Alon’s murmuring, a bolt of lightning fell from the sky.

Crack!

A lightning strike that trapped everything.

####

Rangban felt despair.

No—it wasn’t just him.

Everyone here felt despair.

It was only natural.

The enemy forces vastly outnumbered theirs.

And more importantly, the apostles were here.

The Apostles of Baarma.

Those irrational beings who could single-handedly take on hundreds of alliance soldiers and even oppose the gods themselves—there were two of them.

Rangban thought everything was over.

No matter how strong Alon was, facing two apostles was close to impossible.

That’s why he despaired.

—Until the world was split in two.

“What the…?”

Rangban found himself muttering as he looked forward.

There stood a massive pillar of ice and lightning, born from the strike.

He looked up in a daze.

The gigantic lightning bolt that had descended from the sky remained, its form intact, splitting the world down the middle.

That wasn’t all.

Within the icy formation were countless cultists who had just moments ago charged forward with vicious momentum.

And it wasn’t just the cultists.

Even one of the apostles—who had stood so confidently just seconds ago—was now frozen inside the ice, still wearing an expression of disbelief.

And in front of them,

Stood a man.

His black coat fluttered, his lips pressed into a firm line.

A man who said nothing—no, a god.

“Ah…”

At someone’s awed gasp, every gaze turned to the man.

A man standing proudly, splitting the world left and right.

In the eyes of the soldiers looking at his back, there was no longer fear or despair.

The fear that had ruled over them was now—

“GRAAAAHHHH!!!”

—transferred to the cultists, unlike the apostle trapped in the ice, Rumurfa, who had barely escaped the range of the lightning but lost his entire right arm.

His vivid scream reached them all—

“That’s impossible—!”

And spread to the cultists.

The expressions of the cultists, who had previously felt joy at the thought of hunting other races, twisted into fear.

Terror spread among the soldiers who had rushed in to kill Alon.

The bizarre zealotry that had fueled them began to dissipate.

Watching it all, Rangban—

“…!”

Finally understood.

What Alon meant earlier when he said, “I’m counting on you.”

A smile rose to Rangban’s lips.

He gripped the sword in his hand tightly.

His body, which had felt like waterlogged cotton soaked in grief, now moved as if that weight had never existed.

With more strength than ever before, his hand gripped the sword.

“Everyone, prepare for battle!!”

Rangban’s voice boomed across the canyon.

The soldiers, who had been dazed while staring at Alon’s back, came to their senses and quickly grabbed their weapons.

No longer did fear show on their faces.

There was no sign of despair.

No trace of grief either.

Instead—

A new emotion sparkled in everyone’s eyes.

Hope.

Unmistakable hope shone brightly.

“Comrades! Raise your weapons!”

Rangban shouted once more, raising his weapon high.

With resolute eyes, he looked around at those standing beside him.

Hope begets hope.

Firmly gripped weapons.

Eyes unshaken as they stared down the terrified cultists.

They shared hope with one another.

“Do not be afraid!!”

At his words, courage surged into everyone’s gaze.

“For we—”

And finally—

CRRAAACKKK—!!!

The ice that had trapped the apostles and cultists and split the world in two exploded in a shower of white snow.

And they saw.

The ice that split the skies burst forth and pushed away the ashen clouds, allowing light to shine through.

A brilliance they hadn’t seen in so long.

Radiant sunlight.

And as they saw Alon’s back standing against that brilliant sun,

“God is with us!!”

Rangban’s thunderous shout echoed across the battlefield.

The soldiers, roaring like thunder, began charging toward the cultists.

With the symbol of hope engraved deep in their hearts.