Chapter 30: A Hopeless Battle and a Glimmer of Defiance

The battle was utterly brutal.

The ashen giant, swallowing Paradise whole, was practically invincible.

No matter how fiercely our makeshift alliance attacked, the giant didn’t flinch.

We poured out mana and aura to their limits, but even the lightest of the giant’s attacks forced us to grit our teeth and dodge. It was a hopeless fight.

Finally worn down by the grim cycle, the lead elf, barely evading the giant’s massive arm, snapped at me.

“Witch, got any bright ideas?!”

“You think I do? I’d have used them by now! I’m out of tricks!”

“…Damn it!”

Her furious voice rang out, but sadly, there was no way to take down the ashen giant.

This monster didn’t even appear in the original novel.

The only reason I’d managed to find solutions so far was because I knew the original’s setting.

But when an unknown entity like this pops up out of nowhere—

“There’s no hope.”

It’s literally “no answer.”

Damn author.

If you’re gonna remake it, at least keep it reasonable.

Even with nearly all the allies gathered, why crank the difficulty to insane levels?

And we’re fighting alongside the “Erophs,” the main villains of the mid-to-late original story.

Does it make sense to be losing to a mid-game final boss?

Sighing hollowly at the sky, the giant’s attacks paused, and the Master reappeared.

“My, where’s all that confidence from earlier? Pfft, just sighing like that is quite the sight.”

“…”

“If you make Poneriana your enemy, this is what happens. So, that was the trial run. Ready to join the cult now?”

“Still not interested.”

If joining the cult meant surviving, I’d have thrown myself at it, shouting, “Oh, great Poneriana…!” with full-on fanatic method acting.

But joining means death.

Worse, I’d become fodder for summoning the evil god, dying in agony.

If that’s the case, wouldn’t it be better to just get crushed cleanly by the giant?

Smiling firmly, I answered, and veins popped on the Master’s face.

Not liking my unbroken resolve, she erased her smile and issued a cold command to the giant.

“Apostle, send these foolish souls to Poneriana’s side.”

Rooaaarrr!!!

The ashen giant roared mightily, attacking more aggressively than before.

Stroheim, the stout dwarf, wore a resolute expression and rummaged through his bag.

“Sigh, I swore I wouldn’t use this.”

“…What’s that, old man?”

Eyeing him suspiciously, uneasy, he burst into hearty laughter and explained the object—a cannonball.

“Oh… this is called a ‘nuke.’ When a problem arises, it delivers the ultimate solution. A magnificent weapon.”

“…”

“Ha! My clan said it’s still experimental and not ready, but what better testing ground than this?! Right, benefactor?!!”

You crazy bastard, stop it.

We’ll all die, damn it.

The battlefield was frantic.

No time for chit-chat, but if I didn’t stop this, we’d face an even bigger problem.

I aimed Kotath’s frying pan at Stroheim’s soft beard and whispered a threat.

“Put that away, or your precious beard’s gone.”

“Haha!! No matter! If I can witness the perfect explosion, a beard’s a small price!!!”

“…You’re gonna play it like that?”

The first negotiation failed.

I immediately threw out the next condition.

“Old man, I know how to fix your lower half.”

“…”

“Like you said, you can see the perfect explosion later, right? Hold off, and you’ll get both your lower half and the explosion! That’s a fair—”

“No.”

Cutting me off, Stroheim shook his head, tapped his massive cannon, and spoke.

“By sacrificing my lower half, I glimpsed greater science and technology! My lower half doesn’t matter anymore!!!”

“You crazy neutered bastard…!”

“I!! Want to see the perfect explosion now!!! Even you, benefactor, can’t stop—”

I swung Kotath’s frying pan, smashing it into the explosion-mad dwarf’s head.

It was autumn.

Nephilim, the Master of the Poneriana cult.

She was deeply displeased with the current situation.

“Why won’t anyone submit?”

Among all who’d faced the evil god’s power, she’d never seen ones like these.

Most went mad.

Or they submitted, becoming fine fodder for the evil god.

She’d never seen anyone break this pattern, so how could they resist the Apostle’s power?

Chewing her nails, she muttered.

“It’s fine… it’s fine… the Apostle’s power is infinite.”

The Apostle, summoned by consuming all of Paradise.

With countless lives sacrificed, it could surely crush these impudent fools.

Plus—

“Such strong foes will make valuable offerings.”

Since they could withstand the Apostle this long, using them as sacrifices would speed up Poneriana’s summoning.

With a gleeful expression, Nephilim commanded the ashen giant.

“Apostle, show your true power! Judge these blasphemers!”

And—

“Spare the witch. I want to see that arrogant face break.”

This wretch who dared refuse to serve Poneriana.

Who showed the height of arrogance, resisting to the end.

I’ll show her that defiance leads to horrific ruin.

The battlefield grew even more chaotic, but oddly, unlike the others, the witch kept smiling.

…Has she lost her mind?

The tide had fully turned, so why could she smile?

Entrusting everything to the Apostle, Nephilim pondered.

What could the witch do in this situation?

Escaping was impossible—Poneriana’s aura blanketing the battlefield interfered with spacetime.

Could she defeat the Apostle?

No.

As the scene showed, most of the party was exhausted from fighting it.

The witch’s feeble magic couldn’t even scratch it—could she really claim a chance?

Nephilim shook her head.

It’s all bravado.

The pitiful last struggle of a ghost who can’t let go of her pride.

“Pathetic.”

If she’d just agreed to be a believer, she might’ve lived a bit longer.

Why cling to stubbornness and hasten her death?

Thud!

“Aaah…!”

A heavy impact snapped Nephilim out of her thoughts.

A solid hit landed.

But sadly, it wasn’t the witch’s party—it was one of the elves.

“Urgh… gah…!”

The elf, struck by the Apostle’s fist, was instantly incapacitated.

Smooth sailing.

One by one, they’d all become ritual fodder.

“Planning to fight to the end? I’m getting bored. Why not just surrender?”

Nephilim, the Master, yawned at the fools defying the evil god.

Watching them despair against an unbeatable foe was briefly amusing, but their persistent resistance was starting to frustrate her.

No matter how long they held out, they’d break eventually.

What could they possibly see to keep fighting like this?

As Nephilim wondered, the witch’s grating voice pierced her ears.

“Why surrender? We can totally win.”

“Talk after landing a hit. I don’t think you have the right to say that.”

“Well, I haven’t landed a single solid hit. Never imagined even its lower half would be that tough.”

“Pfft, of course it’s tough. I plan to tear you apart with that toughness.”

“Wouldn’t ‘pulverize’ fit better than ‘tear’? It looks bigger than my whole body.”

Cracking a lame joke, the witch fired another mana bolt at Nephilim.

Boom!

The bolt hit the Apostle’s body, just like before.

But this time, the result was different.

Rooaarrr!!!*

The mana bolt dug deep into the Apostle’s skin.

Sensing the threat, the Apostle immediately slammed its palm down on the witch’s location, reducing it to unrecognizable rubble.

“…That was close.”

It happened so fast.

Nephilim, wide-eyed, stared at where the witch had been and took a deep breath.

“No wonder that believer warned against carelessness.”

Who’d have thought she had such a sneaky trick?

Sighing in relief, Nephilim wore a victor’s smile.

“Too bad. I really wanted to see that smug face turn desperate.”

Then, too relaxed, she uttered a taboo phrase she shouldn’t have.

“By the way, we definitely finished her off, right?”