Everything was burning. The Great Wall had collapsed, and all hope was extinguished.

The survivors of the Watch led their remaining forces underground. They dug a massive trench there, completing all preparations for their last stand.

One member was there among them. He was a giant who seemed two heads taller than any of the others. And that was Erich—himself.

That enormous body did not move according to Erich's will.

It was as if he were possessed by something. He slowly approached someone.

"Commander. All preparations are complete. We must hurry."

"... Yes."

The reply came from a woman—a barbarian woman at that. She wore a black cloak, her red hair fluttering behind.

"The enemy won't realize our true destination. Beneath the Great Wall, we've built a labyrinthine cavern. They'll have to scour the entire place."

"... You've done well."

With that, they started to move, heading further underground below the Great Wall. Though they moved quickly, as if being chased, screams kept echoing from behind.

"Kuaaaagh!"

They ignored those sounds and pressed onward through the labyrinth below. At the end of that path stood a giant castle.

When the group arrived, a squad of members came out to meet them. One had an eye covered.

"... Commander. This way."

"Titus."

He guided them to the inner part of the castle—a massive hall. Through the giant's eyes, Erich could read its name.

'Hall of the One-Eyed'

At that sight, Erich smiled. No, it wasn't his own smile, but the giant's.

And then someone's memories began to flow in. The name had been given as a mere joke—to tease Titus, who had lost an eye.

"Never thought this would be your grave."

"Then put a little more thought into naming it, damn you."

Titus laughed hollowly. At their exchange, the commander's eyes grew moist.

"Commander. We'll hold them off as long as possible. Please, go. May the Blessing of Incensus be with you."

"... I won't forget you."

― BOOM!

Suddenly, the castle gates rattled. At the raucous sounds from outside, titus pointed to the rear of the hall.

"There's no time! Go!"

He locked the doors of the hall and moved to close the door to the throne when—

― Whoosh! Crack!

A massive spear flew in and pierced his chest. Erich flinched and struggled, but felt no pain.

― Thud.

His vision blurred. The giant tried to pull out the spear but couldn't move. He gestured to the hesitating commander.

"G...go..."

Blood poured from his mouth with each word. The commander helped him up, and another person quickly joined in. Together, they headed to the rear of the hall.

"Let's go, naius. Just a little longer."

Naius could not speak. He simply stared as his vision turned black.

***

"Cough!"

Erich clutched at his chest, gasping for breath.

"Wha—what is this?"

He fumbled over his body, but everything from before was gone. Just the dead barbarian lay before his eyes—nothing else.

Magic?

Divine power?

Whatever it was, one thing was certain.

'... Something wanted to show me this?'

Unbelievable things were happening. But thinking back, all of this was strange.

Hadn't returning to the past been miraculous enough? If so, he could draw a few conclusions.

From the very start, since his return, something divine was involved in all of this. And certainly, this current situation—especially something related to the lights—had called him here. To show him this.

'The Hall of the One-Eyed...'

Erich faintly recalled hearing that name somewhere, though he couldn't remember where.

Reflecting on the events, it was clear that the lights were connected to the Watch's past.

Erich opened his eyes again and surveyed the cavern around him. A faint gleam showed him a path.

As if inviting him to follow. Moreover, even Erich himself felt instinctively drawn by it.

'Well, I suppose there's no helping it.'

He decided to follow it. Whether it was true or not, the contents of the past were undeniably interesting.

The one-eyed Titus. The period marked "Year 15 of Kalvan" he had found at the hall before. That was the founding year of the Empire. Yet Erich's mind grew more muddled.

The Watchman Titus, known as the One-Eyed and active during that time, was a notorious traitor.

'But that's not what the vision showed.'

What was wrong? Was it the vision shown by the light? Erich's memory? Or, possibly...

'Is the history itself wrong?'

Whatever it was, he'd only find out by following. Erich looked quietly at the barbarian's corpse.

He couldn't know the details, but since the history of the Watch spanned a thousand years since the Great Wall was built, there was no guarantee there hadn't been barbarian members.

He paid silent tribute to the dead, and stepped toward the gleam.

How long did he walk like that?

After some time, Erich realized he was kicking against more things, so he shone his torch downward.

And there—

He saw countless bones strewn everywhere.

Frowning, he gazed into the distant dark. A strange, pungent odor stabbed at his nose.

Erich drew his longsword and stepped forward, where another group of dead milled about. He quickly stepped into the gleam.

"Looks like I'll need to clear things out again."

He pulled one of the maces hanging at his waist. It was never easy to behead them with a steel longsword. Unless he could use high-level aura...

'Actually, isn't this a chance?'

Aura, known as the mark of a swordmaster, was an extraordinary technique, usually attainable only after awakening the power of the eyes and long battle experience.

What was needed: mastery over the power of the eyes and focused concentration to maintain aura. If concentration faltered even a bit, aura would lose all lethality.

Even for Erich, who used it as often as he ate, it wasn't easy to control high-level aura.

Thus, the power of aura Erich had used so far was barely a taste.

True aura's power was far beyond merely slicing through steel.

However, Erich had felt his growth rate stalling.

Enemies kept getting stronger, yet this wasn't enough.

'And this gleam—it seems to be enhancing my aura recovery.'

Erich sensed it instinctively.

This barrier of light that shielded him from the dead was also restoring his aura.

Normally, aura already spent shouldn't recover this quickly.

Moreover, these dead were no ordinary dead, making them the perfect test subjects for his aura's sharpness.

If the aura particles scattered even a little, it would be impossible to behead them.

With constantly recovering aura and plenty of targets to use it on—

This was, in all, the perfect place for training.

― Swish.

Erich stretched his hand outside the gleam. One of the dead instantly charged at him; he quickly readied himself.

When the dead pressed against the gleam, Erich raised his sword toward the sky. His eyes flickered crimson.

'This won't be enough.'

He knew, by feel, already. So he focused all his nerves into his eyes. Just as he'd circulated the eye's power through his body before to boost his blood flow, this time the power coursed through his hand and into his blade.

Soon, the surface of his gripped blade was veined like a spiderweb. But that was the easy part. The real question—could he maintain it while striking?

― Screeeech!

His swung sword shot toward the dead's neck.

― Crack!

Erich's wreathed aura failed to last. Far from cleaving through, it was stopped on the surface.

Still—

"Well, whatever."

With a kick, he yanked his sword from the dead's neck.

"With so many chances to try."

Erich kept trying again and again. Sometimes he managed to get more than halfway, but in the end, it was still a failure.

A sword with a 50% chance of breaking could never be said to be reliable.

He still had plenty of opportunities. As time passed, the depth of his slashes increased, and occasionally, a dead's head would be cleanly severed.

This was all thanks to the insane regenerative power of these centuries-old dead. When he failed and withdrew his sword, the wound immediately sealed with a transparent crystal.

― Clang!

If the sword broke, he'd quickly scavenge another from nearby corpses. Of course, stepping outside the gleam was risky, but he had little choice.

Fighting these dead, Erich realized something he'd known in his past life.

The commander-type dead that controlled the others could see through their eyes.

Every dead he'd fought before could share information and sight that way, moving as a coordinated group.

But these dead here didn't. Not only did they lack organized movement, but the signature change in their eyes—blazing white chill—didn't appear even when vision was shared.

'... Wild types?'

Wild dead? It sounded impossible, but at the moment, it was the only explanation.

Alternatively, maybe the gleam was blocking that ability. Either way, it was fortunate that their deadliest weapon was sealed.

― Screeeech!

A dead's head fell with one slash. How much time had passed? When hungry, he ate the dead barbarians' food and water.

When tired, he slept as he was. In this pitch-black cave, he couldn't tell time, but it was clear that quite a while had passed.

Before he knew it, aura shimmered steadily around his blade—visible only as a faint, tight shimmer.

Using aura felt as natural to him as using his own strength or reflexes. The more he used it, the more it grew.

So, with aura constantly recovering and a situation that demanded constant use—

Rapid training like this became possible.

Erich neatly finished off the remaining dead and looked around. A place where Watch and barbarians died, tangled together. There, again, a cluster of lights appeared. Again, it seemed to beckon him.

Without hesitation, his hand reached for the lights. Having experienced this before, he was no longer afraid.

He did not know who brought him here.

'If you want it so much, I'll see everything.'

As he touched the lights, he was transported elsewhere once again.

***

Erich found himself inhabiting another's body once more. But this time, it wasn't Naius.

They were in a dark cave, packed together in a defensive formation.

― Grrrrr

An all-too-familiar, dreadful cry of the dead echoed. Everyone's eyes were filled with fear, but no one retreated.

"They're coming!"

"Brace for impact!"

Beyond the short range of the torches, nothing could be seen. Suddenly—their faces emerged from the dark.

― CRACK! CRUNCH!

Chilling sounds rang through the cave. The layered Watch phalanx tangled with the dead. Human red blood mingled with the dead's blue.

"Kuaaaagh!"― Grrrrrrk

They thrashed, stabbing one another. Screams of the Watch and howls of the dead swirled together. The owner of the body shouted,

"Hold them! Hold on until the ritual is complete!"

Yet the dead, filling the cave to overflowing, charged relentlessly. The Watch holding the line began falling one by one.

He turned his head. Before he knew it, no one was left by his side. Gasping, he raised his sword. But—

― Thud!

The dead's weapons pierced his body. He trembled and sank to the floor.

― Thump.

With fading sight, he looked at someone. Blurred, but the face was familiar.

"... Tiberius, why are you...?"

Tiberius's face wasn't clear. Then he mumbled something.

― Thud.

His eyes opened wide—in shock, fear, and surprise. And then, the world went dark.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=Tiberius is a traitor?Probably a previous commander of the Watch...【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】

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