Chapter 186: Against the Current
The fading light spread, and another name awakened.
Eastern front, beneath a gray sky.
Shattered helms and broken armor lay scattered across scorched earth. What had once been a plain was torn asunder, filled only with the hot breath of beasts.
And in the midst of it all, Marik opened his eyes.
Each breath drew burning air deep into his lungs. His body had long since reached its limit, yet something still forced him upright.
Cough.
Volga spat blood.
The awakened Brawk was powerful. He had brushed aside the Mountain Rabbits' assault with ease—Volga's Falling Fire hadn't landed, and neither had Marik's divinity-infused strikes.
To put it plainly, that was the reality of his current level. Even against a subordinate of the Legion Commander, he had been pushed to the brink of crisis.
But he did not know how to retreat.
Marik steadied his breathing and pulled himself upright. He would advance once more—toward Brawk, who grinned as though mocking him.
It was then.
Golden particles rained from above, settling over his shoulder and arm. Not flame—but the breath of living light.
"...Ella?"
He murmured the woman's name softly. No answer came. Instead, the light flowed through his fingertips and reached deep into his heart. In that instant, his heartbeat split in two. One side illuminated his past, and the other pierced through the Marik of the present.
His vision flickered briefly.
Beyond the battlefield, a silhouette rose from the darkness. It took the shape of a man, yet was larger, rougher. A leather armor soaked in blood, and eyes that glowed like crimson gemstones—he recognized what it was immediately.
"...Marik."
It was not an enemy. It was the Marik of the past. A blood-crazed bandit who had abandoned his family and fled like a beast.
[How long do you intend to look away?]
From within that brutal vision, a beast's howl bled through.
[You are a hungry beast.]
Brawk split his lips into a twisted grin.
Boom—!
When the monster's foot struck the ground, the craters scattered across the earth trembled all at once. The mud swelled and burst in a single eruption.
"..."
Marik rolled aside and dodged, but the soldiers behind him were swept helplessly into the shockwave. Their bodies were swallowed into the ground, and instead of screams begging for life, only bubbles rose in their place.
Brawk tilted his head and cackled.
[This is land ruled by shadow. There is…… nowhere for you to run.]
And that was the truth of it.
Calix held the center. The moment one pillar of the battlefield collapsed, the entire front line would spiral beyond saving.
Then, along Brawk's spine, coils of fur erupted upward. Not one or two—hundreds of sharp tendrils burst outward from every gap in his armor, like a mass of writhing tentacles.
Knights who had charged toward the enemy lost their lives. All of them were seasoned fighters of great renown. Yet they fell almost instantly, pierced and shredded by tendrils that drove through steel.
Marik hauled his shield up to his chest. He beat the flat of his blade against it, drawing the enemy's gaze toward himself.
"Look at me! Your opponent is right here!"
Brawk swatted Volga aside with an irritated flick of his hand. Then his eyes returned to Marik. Dark energy seeped from those violet irises.
[Yes, you are my opponent. You, Marik.]
Laughter mingled with memory in the monster's voice. A grin that seemed to know the Marik who had once fled—somehow, he had already absorbed fragments of Marik's past.
[The one who abandoned his family and ran in terror from a monster.]
The moment those words struck, Marik's breath stalled for just an instant. It was the ugliest shard of his life—one he had no choice but to face.
Even though he had believed himself past it, his chest ached.
[Have you truly forgiven yourself? Really? Or did you simply bury the guilt by force, to be rid of it?]
"..."
He had no rebuttal.
He was still bound to that moment.
[You know it too. That in that moment, you came face to face with the beast living inside you. And……]
Brawk raised his axe and continued. His tongue was sharper than even the axe's edge.
[Even now, in this very moment—the beast in your heart has not disappeared.]
The enormous two-handed axe came crashing down toward Marik. He angled his shield's surface to absorb the blow, but was thrown back more than ten steps in an instant.
A single exchange, and his stomach lurched.
Hisss—
Before he could even regain his footing, Brawk's tendrils found the opening. They grazed his torso and drove straight through his left shoulder. Muscle tore, and one arm fell limp.
The shield was no longer usable.
To the man groaning softly, Brawk said,
[Turn your back. Do so, and I will not stop you.]
Those words were clearly meant for Marik.
***
The smell of mud drove into his nostrils.
Marik knelt, breathing in ragged gasps. Blood and soil clotted together and slipped from his fingertips. His left arm had already gone numb, and the shield hung uselessly at his side.
But his heart was still beating.
That pulse felt profoundly unfamiliar. A vibration ringing somewhere between light and shadow. Ella's prayer and Verhas's lingering echo became entangled as one, clashing deep within a single man's soul.
In that moment, a foreign voice reached him through the ringing in his ears. His vision trembled faintly, and a shape took form.
‘Brother, stop. You can't win this fight.’
His younger sister spoke. His nephews surrounded her, eyes heavy with worry. His mother waved her hands desperately, urging him away.
It was clearly a hallucination.
The family he had abandoned—telling the wayward son to run.
[Look. In the end, people are all the same. They collapse before despair.]
"...Yeah, that's true."
Marik answered Brawk's words in a low voice. The monster roared with delight when he conceded so readily. There was always something satisfying in watching the living fall.
But that joy did not last.
"And yet—they rise again."
Marik pressed his hand to the earth and slowly lifted himself. His joints groaned like rusted hinges, but golden particles seeped in and lent him strength.
He forgave himself—and yet, he never denied his wrongs.
"One day, when I stand before my family again. I will drop to my knees, bow my head, and beg forgiveness. I will weep as I acknowledge the wrongs I can never undo."
But until that day—
"I have no intention of making the same mistake. Even with death staring me in the face, I am not the one who decides the end."
Ella's embers seeped into Marik's heart and kindled a flame. Not mere light—but a torch born from one man's will.
"I am Marik—a man with the heart of a beast."
The moment he defined himself, the visions of his family began to shatter. Blood and shadow dissolved, and the dark energy enveloping him was swept away entirely.
Witnessing that, Brawk flinched and brought the axe down.
Crash—!!
Marik caught the blow with the sword in his right hand, braced across his left shoulder. The blade cracked, and the shoulderblade crushed beneath the flat fractured too—but at his fingertips, a brilliant radiance had gathered.
The fractured bone returned to its original shape. Strength slowly flooded back into the limp left arm. His fingers moved first, and soon even the dislocated joint found its way back into place.
Only then did Brawk realize something had gone wrong.
[What is that? How……]
Marik answered quietly.
"Something you discarded."
[Something I discarded?]
The mark on the back of his hand blazed with a clarity unlike any before.
"Humanity. We fear—yet we do not flee. We reproach ourselves—and through that, we reflect. Through countless mistakes, we correct tomorrow."
And then—the light erupted.
It was not the radiance of divinity, nor shadow born of darkness. It was nothing more than the pure, concentrated will of one man—his desire to set right what had gone wrong.
Brawk stumbled backward without realizing it. Those violet pupils trembled for a single, fleeting moment.
[That power…… It cannot be! This is land ruled by shadow!]
Along Marik's grip, a vivid light ignited at the sword's tip. That light rose against the beast's blood—and for the first time, it surged against every current that had opposed it.
And then, without a word, he went to prove it.
***
Brawk let out a thunderous roar.
Dark energy erupted like a storm. A deep crimson force swept across the battlefield, flooding in as if to devour every trace of light.
But this time was different. Just before the darkness overtook Marik, it caved in on itself.
[How dare you—!]
The dense shadow reversed. Black smoke seeped outward from Brawk's body. The beast's domain—that which had leaned upon the Legion Commander's power—was collapsing.
Marik moved without haste. The light extending from his sword's tip cut forward in a straight, clean line. Brawk's tendrils burst outward in hundreds of directions, but they no longer carried the ferocity of before.
With every sweep of the golden blade, the darkness was severed. Shadows that had surged like a rushing current now fractured and scattered on their own.
Marik's speed had not changed much, yet the density of his energy was something else entirely. With each slash, mud evaporated and the beast's cries rang out. The light of divinity blazed up from his feet and spread in rippling waves across the surface of the mire.
Crack!
Brawk swung the axe once more. A horizontal slash aimed at the torso. Explosive force poured into it—but Marik stepped forward, right into it. The moment shield met axe, the monster's arm was flung wide.
As the enemy's stance broke apart, Marik's blade shot skyward. Golden light curved as it rose.
The current, surges in reverse.
Brawk's breastplate split cleanly open, and his chest was laid bare. From within, a pulsing violet orb was revealed, vibrating like a heartbeat. It was the monster's core—a seed of darkness born from Legion Commander Verhas.
Marik drew in a breath and leveled his blade horizontally.
[No, stop—!]
Before the monster's cry could finish, his sword drove through the orb. A blood-red light erupted, and immediately after, dark energy was drawn inward.
Rumble!
In that instant, a massive tremor rang out from Verhas's barrier. The binding of dark energy that had sustained the right side of the battlefield was collapsing.
The sky upended and the earth shuddered. Mud rippled, announcing that victory had been decided. Yet even amid that upheaval, Marik did not waver.
Light surged from the mark embedded in the back of his hand, and divinity expanded in widening circles. The darkness subsided in an instant—as though its very breath had been cut short.
The area around him fell quiet almost immediately. And what remained in that stillness was a single man.
In the space where the beast had vanished, Marik stood alone in silence.
***
A hush descended over the battlefield.
The howling wind went still, and the cries of wicked things fell silent. On the left side of the battlefield, amid a pile of rubble, a heavy presence stirred.
It was the dwarf, Basim.
Standing before the collapsed barrier, he helped Royce up. They had driven back Bandipa and earned the awe of the dwarves—but the fighting was not yet over.
"Royce, it's too soon to sleep."
"......Calix."
"That's right. We have to go help that little upstart. Isn't that what a captain's for!"
Their gazes turned toward the center.
And on the opposite side.
Marik slowly lowered his sword. In the spot where Brawk had melted away, golden embers glowed quietly. The long, vast barrier had crumbled, and the cries of the allied forces washed over the land. Yet he turned his head in silence and looked toward a single direction.
He too had felt the Mountain Rabbits' call.
No whistle had sounded—but he knew by instinct. Far away, fighting within a red surge—there was a young Mountain Rabbit.
"Volga, raise the banner."
Marik lifted his sword and pointed toward where they were needed next.
They had fought on different fronts, each in their own way. And at the end of it all, they were converging on the same center.