Katrisian stepped into the magic circle he had spent all day drawing.
His mind was entirely focused on the Brachion Continent.
“Warp.”
A cluster of light burst forth from the magic circle and began to rotate around Katrisian’s body.
The amount of light gradually increased, and its rotation speed began to accelerate.
“Uhuhuhu, I’m finally going home.”
Katrisian smiled in delight.
Whether one was human or otherwise, the journey home was always a joy.
Just as the light filling the cave was about to burst outward, everything suddenly vanished.
The rotating light, Katrisian, and Salk.
The incident occurred when there was only a short distance left to the end of the ‘Dimensional Tunnel’.
“Keuk!”
Katrisian suddenly clutched his chest and let out a stifled groan.
Something seemed to have gone wrong with his body.
“This bastard…!”
Flustered by the unprecedented situation, Katrisian erupted in anger once he realized the cause.
Salk’s soul was resisting.
The resistance was so strong and tenacious that even Katrisian found it difficult to suppress.
Moreover, the guy wasn’t separated from him; they were currently one body passing through the Dimensional Gate.
It wasn’t a situation where he could deal with the brat’s resistance step by step.
“Ugh, this guy…!
Please just stay still…”
Being angry wasn’t the issue.
Right now, Katrisian was feeling the fear of death.
Once the Dimensional Tunnel opened, it couldn’t be stopped.
As the resistance grew, Katrisian’s body began to gradually disintegrate.
The mana that made up his body was losing its focal point and scattering.
“N-no!
Drop!”
Katrisian squeezed out the last remaining mana in his Dragon Heart in a final, desperate struggle.
His body, of which only half remained, plummeted rapidly.
* * *
A fierce melee was unfolding between humans and orcs.
The area had already formed a river of blood, and ownerless body parts were scattered everywhere.
“Aaaagh!”
A gruesome scream marking the end of a life echoed through the forest.
The faces of the party surrounded by a massive horde of orcs were dyed with despair.
Two men, two women.
They all looked to be in their early to mid-twenties.
“Gipel, what are you doing?
Hurry up and launch a fireball!”
A tall, muscular man shouted at the small-statured man standing behind him as he watched the orcs approaching with a ferocious momentum.
“Hey, do I have iron arms?
You have to give me time to chant the spell!”
“This should be enough time.
Are you looking it up in a book and reading it?”
“If you know so much, why don’t you launch it, Bash?”
“What?”
Eventually, the two men started growling at each other, ignoring the orcs.
“Can’t you two stop!
Are you whining for milk right now?”
“No, Eliza.
Gipel keeps dawdling.”
“Bash, I told you to stop.”
At Eliza’s warning, Bash, who had been about to make an excuse, couldn’t say another word and backed down with a face full of complaints.
Even though Eliza was a woman, she was actually larger than Bash.
In her hands, a two-handed sword that even an average strong man would find hard to lift was held as lightly as a twig.
She completely blew away the head of a fearless orc that lunged at her.