Free Web NovelThe ability manifested through the Stigma of the Vanguard of the Dark Night — “Oath of the Night,” known as “Absolute Evasion,” had the following properties:
[Passive Skill: Absolute Evasion]
Rank: Legendary
Activates when an opponent of the 6th hierarchy or lower delivers a lethal blow.
— 1st time: 50% evasion chance
— 2nd time: 10% evasion chance
— 3rd time: 1% evasion chance
If the lethal blow is delivered by an opponent of the 7th hierarchy:
— Evasion chance: 1%
※ Against the same target, the skill can only activate once per day.
Among the countless passive skills in <Forgotten God>, “Absolute Evasion” was considered broken. A “probability” that nullified overwhelming stat differences. It was thanks to this that Gunther managed to avoid the barrage of attacks.
[Absolute Evasion activated (2nd time)]
Revmael’s heavy mace suddenly froze midair. Interest flashed across her face, curiosity... and a faint trace of caution. Gunther was lucky: a 1% probability was, no matter how you looked at it, too elusive. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓
“So it was you.”
The words were brief, but Gunther understood their meaning. The reason why Luthien’s carefully planned operation to seize the capital had collapsed.
“Yeah. It was me.”
It seemed Revmael had finally realized who stood at the center of all these events.
“Tch, this isn’t how it was supposed to end. And you’re strong, aren’t you?”
A brief moment of respite appeared. Breathing heavily, Gunther looked at Revmael. A conversation he once had with Rietta and Yuria surfaced in his mind.
“Mmm, the Hierarch of Justice?”
“Sister Revmael... hmm.”
Before “Raymond” had arrived. A candidate for Hierarch who had left Audrey House. Unlike the others, bound by tight bonds, the expressions on Rietta and Yuria’s faces when her name was mentioned had been filled with unmistakable fear.
“According to the canonical storyline, she’s a born predator.”
Revmael had no need for brainwashing or training like the other candidates. From the very beginning, she possessed exactly the temperament Luthien required. The type devoid of empathy and guilt, coldly weighing risks and gains. One who instinctively perceived the world as hunting grounds...
“Spot on. A psychopath.”
That was likely why she hadn’t attacked immediately. Like a beast that, sensing even the slightest threat, takes a step back to sniff the air. freewёbnoνel.com
“But this won’t last long.”
The full power of the Hierarch of Justice corresponded to the end of the 6th hierarchy. Gunther, at best, was barely reaching the middle of the 5th. Moreover, all effective tools, including “Reading” and “Eyes of the Tyrant,” had been exhausted, and his body was at the brink of collapse. As hierarchy rises, the gap increases exponentially.
“...Even if I squeeze out all the Karma I have, I can’t win.”
The moment she realized she could crush his skull in a few seconds, Revmael would not hesitate. Gunther cast a sideways glance at the documents clutched in his hand. He quickly skimmed through the important parts, starting with the initial response protocols.
And sure enough, a quiet laugh came from his opponent. It carried extreme astonishment.
“You’re reading papers? Right now? Have you lost your mind?”
Before her anger could spill over, Gunther spoke:
“Hey.”
He had just gone through a brutal ordeal, death still lingering behind him, but... he had to do what needed to be done. Gunther’s consciousness once again shifted into the mindset of a Regressor.
“Confirm something for me. Are the facts I found correct?”
“...What?”
“When you’re about to die, you want clarity. Makes it easier.”
For a moment, Revmael was at a loss for words.
She had seen countless deaths. Final words, desperate resistance, pleas for mercy, death rattles, resignation. She knew all those patterns too well. But Gunther did not fit into any of them.
His calmness was not an act. And yet, he was not a fool who believed death would pass him by. While still alive, he was simultaneously “calculating” his own death.
A sealed office. In this room, it was only her and Gunther. No paths of retreat, no time to buy.
The Round Table knights? If they gathered, they would be a serious threat, but they were scattered across the capital. No one would come to save him. The situation was absolutely hopeless.
And yet Gunther was reading documents. And asking useless questions. That was what unsettled Revmael the most. That was why she did not attack immediately. In the face of incomprehensible behavior, a predator instinctively retracts its claws.
But confusion could not last forever. Gunther understood that. So without hesitation, he continued:
“First. The disease caused by Seren Mayra’s holy body has an incubation period. You can control when it erupts, but if you trigger it too early, both the infectivity and the strength of the walking corpses drop sharply.”
No answer was needed. Revmael’s expression said everything.
“Second. The moment my comrades moved toward Sector 7, you realized things were going off-script. So you abandoned the original plan — ‘a mass outbreak on the final day of the festival’ — and instead leaked the information to Valloren.”
Gunther’s gaze pierced straight through her.
“You knew Valloren’s inner workings too well. You knew what choice they would make, and how low they would fall. And just as expected, Valloren chose self-destruction, putting an end to its corrupted chivalry.”
A bloodthirsty intent slowly surfaced on Revmael’s face. It was not a threat, but certainty. A decision — “he must be eliminated.”
“Third.”
But Gunther did not stop.
“You also knew the Holy Sword is not just a weapon. You understood that when chivalry is corrupted, the sword itself changes. That’s why you tried to influence ‘Dominic’s’ mind using the corrupted Holy Sword. Though you failed.”
Gunther raised the Holy Sword, now nothing more than a hilt, and...
Tap.
Dropped it at Revmael’s feet.
Everything he had learned in this life. Fragments of truth — all contained in that short gesture.
The Hierarch of Justice was strong and ferocious. But at her core, she was just a child given immense power. Because she could not hide her emotions, the truth was easy to read from her face.
“You...” Revmael growled low. “Where did you learn all that? What, can you read the Tablets? Hah, but what does it matter now. Your comrades are dead, and in the end, victory is ours—”
Gunther calmly cut her off:
“You think that’s all I know?”
“What?”
“No matter how much you push yourself, you’ve only got one year left to live. And I also know you’re spending that precious time entangled with Archbishop Bellesa of Justice.”
...Whoosh.
The whistle of air being cut — and the mace rose.
“You filthy heretic. Don’t expect an easy death.”
Gunther tore his gaze away from the documents he had been reading between words. He clenched down hard on a small cavity he had prepared between his teeth.
Click.
The special “Flower of Silence” from Sharin. As expected, the effect was instantaneous.
A cold, bitter sensation spread from his tongue. The edges of his vision warped, the light streaming through the shattered window blurring. The sensation in his fingertips dulled, his body feeling distant, as if it no longer belonged to him. His heart still beat, but even that rhythm sounded muffled, like something heard underwater.
Revmael noticed the change instantly. As if trying to inflict as much pain as possible before Gunther’s breathing stopped, she rushed forward and swung her mace.
“You cowardly trash! Trying ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) to run?!”
“Sorry, but it can’t be helped.” Even for him, this iteration had been exhausting. He had no strength left to exchange blows with a mace wrapped in gray-streaked hair. Gunther quietly closed his eyes.
Crunch!
.
.
.
[You have died]
***
[Calculating death records]
[27/99]
[Life cycle reset detected]
[Unique skill of trait “Godslayer” — “Deicide” available]
[Unique skill of trait “???” — “Reading” available]
The space of post-death return. In the pitch-black void, familiar system messages appeared one after another. Under normal circumstances, Gunther would have already jumped to his feet. He would have skimmed through the text, analyzed the mistakes of his past life, and feverishly built a strategy for the next cycle.
[#27 The life of one who struggled desperately]
[You gave everything in this struggle. Your choices were rational, and your intentions sincere. However, causality became entangled, and time was ultimately lost, resulting in a less than satisfactory conclusion. Nevertheless, it was not in vain. What you managed to wrest from fate in this life will serve you well in the next.]
Even as the status window — which usually never missed a chance to mock — delivered an unusually gentle message, Gunther remained sitting motionless.
He was used to failure. But never had it been this crushing.
The beginning and end of the previous life swept before his eyes in a panoramic blur, and his insides twisted again. A cold, heavy feeling tightened his chest.
“...My decision was wrong.”
From the very start. The choice to send his comrades to Sector 7. A decision made in the belief that Valloren, the kingdom of chivalry, would do the right thing.
That carelessness had led to catastrophe.
[Calculating Karma...]
Ding!
[Karma of Life 27: 312]
[Current Karma: 3173]
[Accumulated Karma: 11017]
In this life, he had gained much. Enough information, experience, and Karma had been accumulated. Compared to previous lives, his ability to influence variables had clearly increased. And yet the unease did not fade.
“What if... even this isn’t enough?”
The Hierarch of Justice. Audrey. Raymond. The Bishop of the Cult of Healing. And Masiu. He would have to face them all again. What if this time they prepared even more insidious traps? What if his comrades began to fall dead one after another before his eyes again?
Of course, everything could be reversed. Regression had always been his way out. But would his mind remain clear after repeating this over and over?
Countless thoughts swirled through his head. But amidst that chaos, Gunther was certain of one thing.
“Don’t give up. Ever.”
Even if Cheonmae had never said it, he was that kind of person. One who could not stop moving forward. The world resets, the deaths of his comrades erased as if they never existed. But he remembered. He remembered how they fought, and the resolve with which they endured to the end. That would not disappear, no matter how many times the world reset. And as long as he knew that, Gunther had no other path.
Gunther stood up.
“...Soon.”
In a moment, white light would surge in, and he would return to Save Point #13. He was ready. And yet his heart trembled faintly.
...It was at that moment.
“...?”
At first, he didn’t notice. How could he? After dozens of regressions, nothing had ever changed here. It was hard to even imagine something “unexpected” happening. But the change was so obvious that it instantly pulled Gunther out of the abyss of fear and anxiety.
...A voice. Gunther held his breath and listened.
“...No... O-o-oh... Seriously?”
There was no mistake. It was someone speaking. A lighthearted voice, yet strangely likable.
“It’s working? It’s working?! It actually works?! It works! Oh, it works! Let’s gooooo!”
“Am I hallucinating?” But then another voice overlapped the first.
“...With all due respect, this is practically our first meeting, shouldn’t we observe basic decorum...”
“Heh-heh, you worry about decorum yourself! I’m off. Gunther! Big sis is coming, wait for me!”
At that moment...
The black space cracked like glass. The fracture, at first as thin as a strand of hair, spread in all directions in an instant and—
Crash!
With the sound of shattering fragments, a blinding explosion of light poured through the break. The light pushed back the darkness, crushed it, devoured everything. And within that brilliance, as if thrown by someone’s hand, three figures tumbled out, flailing awkwardly.
“Kiiiii-yaaaa!”
“......”
“Yee-haw! I’m first!”
...No way. Gunther’s trembling gaze instinctively fixed on the one who landed first before him. A face that could only be described as “radiant.” Golden hair and azure eyes. A handsome man who seemed to have absorbed the light itself grinned broadly, revealing neat white teeth. Casually raising a hand, he said:
“Hey, Gunther. Were you crying?”
Behind him rose a beauty with soft green hair and golden eyes, and a giant clad in massive armor. Bright smiles and awkward greeting gestures followed.
...What was this feeling? Perhaps Gunther had simply not experienced anything like it for a very long time.
The feeling that you were allowed to hide behind someone’s back. The sense that someone had come to stand beside you, ready to share an unbearable burden. An emotion impossible to explain, impossible to resist.
“Hah... well, I’ll be.”
Gunther remained sitting where he was, unable to stand.
