It was a hot summer night, the final day of the Kingdom’s Officer Training Corps. For the cadets, it was the first time they were allowed to drink after two years of grueling training. Cadets Ganiro and Romario, having stepped out of their tent, sat facing each other and clinked their cups.
"I heard, Ganiro."
Romario, a cadet with dark skin and a muscular build, leaned back and spoke.
"You applied for the North?"
"Yeah."
"Why would you volunteer for such a dangerous and harsh place? It’s nearly impossible to advance your career there."
Ganiro gulped down his drink, wiped his mouth, and replied, "For better or worse, it’s where I was born and raised. I swore long ago that I would protect the North."
"Is that so," Romario mused.
"What about you? Top cadet Romario."
"On the instructor’s recommendation, I applied to the Central Royal Capital Guard."
Ganiro chuckled.
"The typical elite track. Just what I’d expect from the top cadet."
"If you go to the North," Romario said, rubbing the space between his eyebrows, "you’ll need support from the Kingdom and the South. The central nobles don’t look favorably on the North, so there needs to be at least one person working things from the inside."
"You..."
"I’ll support you from the inside, Ganiro."
As Ganiro looked at him, his eyes filled with emotion, Romario smiled awkwardly and scratched the back of his head.
"I can’t stand this sentimental nonsense."
"Shut up, you bastard!"
The two young cadets slung their arms around each other’s shoulders and talked about the future, laughing heartily. What kind of men would they become? It wouldn’t take long to find the answer.
Five years later.
"The Northern Army that went to the Frost Field has been annihilated! The Grand Duke has suffered a fatal wound!"
"The 2nd Legion’s forces have been scattered!"
Kalos North faced its greatest crisis. Ganiro, who had been defending Vilkenos instead of joining the invasion force, rushed into the castle.
"Your Excellency, the Grand Duke!"
A middle-aged man with black hair, carried on a stretcher, was gasping for breath. Though he was bandaged, one side of his clothes was stained crimson. It was undoubtedly a fatal wound.
"Father!"
Beside him, the Grand Duke’s young daughter, Jin, was sobbing and clutching her father’s clothes. The Grand Duke turned his head, his eyes weary.
"Ganiro."
Ganiro’s legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees with a thud. His hero, the man he respected most, was dying before his very eyes.
"Listen to me carefully, Ganiro. The Northern God’s undead forces are descending on Vilkenos."
Ganiro remained silent, his heart heavy.
"You are the only general left to command. Take the people and flee to the South."
Ganiro fought back the welling tears and looked at the Grand Duke with bloodshot eyes.
"Please, take back your words."
"Ganiro."
"I will go to the South! I will persuade the central nobles and bring back reinforcements!"
"The nobles see the North as a thorn in their side. There’s no way they’ll come..."
"I have a friend in the Central Command!" Ganiro pounded his chest and shouted at the top of his lungs. "If he puts in a word, it will be possible! Please, just wait a little longer, Grand Duke!"
Ganiro immediately mounted a horse and left Vilkenos. His lord was dying, and his homeland was on the verge of being trampled by the enemy. Ganiro rode day and night without a wink of sleep, finally arriving at the front-line command headquarters in Kalos South.
"Send reinforcements!" he shouted, his face haggard. "The North is in danger! The Northern God’s forces will descend soon! If the North falls, the South is next! Why can’t you see that!"
"Calm down," an officer said, tugging at his long mustache. "Do you think moving an army is so simple? There is a procedure for everything in this world. I will report your request to my superiors, so wait. A thorough review should be completed within a month."
"A month? In a month, Vilkenos will fall into the hands of the Northern God!" Ganiro roared, veins popping on his neck. "And there are so many soldiers right outside! What more procedure is needed? Just gather the troops and go to Vilkenos now!"
"Look here—"
"Let go of me! I’m not talking to you frustrating fools! Romario! Bring me Romario!"
"Who do you think you are, calling the Chief of Staff by his name so casually—!"
Just then, the door to the staff office opened with a clank, and a man with dark skin in a pristine uniform appeared.
"What is this commotion?"
"Romario!"
Romario, whom he hadn’t seen in five years, looked exactly as he did during their cadet days. Ganiro’s eyes welled with tears of relief as he cried out.
"Romario! You tell these stuffy blockheads! If we don’t save the North in time—!"
"How rude."
An icy voice, devoid of any emotion, struck Ganiro like a physical blow.
"This is the army. Maintain the proper decorum befitting your rank."
"Ro-Romario?"
"And while the situation in the North you speak of is unfortunate, we also require approval from our superiors. Wait for the procedure."
Just then, a portly, middle-aged man in a uniform and a blonde woman with a sword at her waist came out of the same room.
"What is it, Chief of Staff?"
"Senior, do you know him?"
Romario coldly turned his head and went back into the room.
"I don’t know him."
His heart sank with a thump. Ganiro’s body went limp, and he collapsed to the floor, trembling with a sense of utter betrayal.
"Romario!!"
Even now, decades later, Ganiro could clearly recall it. The despair of that moment. The betrayal. And the promise.
"If you go to the North, I will support you from the inside."
He remembered their cadet days, when they slung their arms around each other’s shoulders and talked about the future, wondering what kind of men they would become.
"Romarioooooo!"
Cutting through the blizzard, a sword imbued with black lightning struck down. A thunderous impact echoed as Ganiro’s sword clashed with Romario’s. The ground where the mounted Romario stood caved in.
"What in the world is that pathetic state you’re in!" Ganiro, now on the ground, shouted with bloodshot eyes. "Did you claw your way up the ranks just to end up like that!"
Before him was his friend, now the ’Second Brother’, controlled by the Northern God. As if to deny the sight, Ganiro gritted his teeth and swung his sword.
Black sparks scattered all around. Romario, having blocked Ganiro’s attack, now stabbed his sword into the ground. Jet-Black thorns shot up from the earth, but Ganiro sprinted as if possessed. He dodged by weaving his body, avoided the rising thorns by stepping on them, and leaped up again to bring his lightning-infused sword down on Romario.
"Say something, Romario!"
The warriors watching were speechless.
"As expected of Great General Ganiro!"
"He’s not being pushed back at all against one of the Three Brothers!"
Of course, as a price for maintaining the physically taxing ’Internal Jet-Black Eruption’ for so long, black blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. But Ganiro didn’t stop.
[Kill me... Kill me... Kill me....]
The arms growing from Romario’s body all created Jet-Black swords and gripped them. Thirty blades descended upon the charging Ganiro.
Ganiro’s eyes turned red. "Fine! If that’s your last wish!"
Thorns below, thirty swords from above.
But Ganiro held only a single sword in his hand.
"As your friend, I’ll take your head with my own hands!"
’Ganiro Original – Baekjeol’
A secret technique that turns a sword into lightning. The sword, enchanted to its limit, scattered into blinding electricity. The approaching thorns and swords were shattered by the current that spread out in thousands of directions, and Ganiro, deftly weaving through the gaps, drew the dagger from his waist.
"Close your eyes now! Romari—!"
Ganiro’s body jerked to a halt. His legs, lifted into the air, dangled, unable to touch the ground.
’Cough!’
Ganiro vomited blood. A single thorn that had shot up from the ground had deeply pierced his side. It seemed to be coated in poison, as he couldn’t move an inch. Romario looked at the frozen Ganiro before him with a placid expression, then grabbed his face and lifted him up. Ganiro couldn’t resist. Romario raised two arms to the sky.
A thorn sword made of Jet-Black soared high into the air, an overwhelming display of power. The sword descended, aimed to cleave Ganiro in two. In that moment of despair at his impending death...
[Who gave you permission to rest so soon, Great General?]
With that sweet voice, Ganiro’s eyes shot open. The descending giant thorn sword was deflected by an arrow that flew like a comet, and a black knight covered head-to-toe in armor was now standing beside him.
[I have not yet permitted you to rest.]
Ganiro’s eyes welled up. "Gr-Grand Duke!"
In that time, Romario moved his other swords, but an arrow suddenly embedded itself in his face with a thwack.
[Huh?]
The Grand Duke hadn’t even shown any sign of shooting. Her hand, hanging loosely at her side, simply plucked the bowstring. As soon as the bowstring vibrated, an arrow lodged itself in the torso of Romario’s horse.
’Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!’
Every time the bow in her hand twitched, Romario was relentlessly battered. As the captured Ganiro fell to the ground, she pulled her hand back. An arrow made of Jet-Black appeared in the Grand Duke’s hand. She slung the Bow of Gale over her shoulder, then gave the arrow a strong shake. With a sweet, ringing sound, the arrow elongated, transforming into a spear. She immediately charged, and Romario responded by drawing Jet-Black swords from his countless arms.
As the spear tip quivered, ten wrists were severed. With each subsequent quiver, twenty, then thirty wrists were cut off. Having instantly neutralized his attack, the Grand Duke flew up like a butterfly and pierced Romario’s chest with the tip of her spear. It looked simple because she was the one doing it, but it was a precise and flawless strike that gave no room for a counterattack. Letting go of the spear, she dropped and spun her body, instantly drawing the bow from her shoulder and firing an arrow.
The tip of the bow quivered as the arrow flew. The moment the arrow struck the spear’s tip, the spear exploded from within Romario’s body as if it had been waiting. A truly perfect combination. The tattered fragments of Romario’s body fell to the ground.
"WHOAAAA!" the warriors of the North who had been watching the fight cheered.
The Grand Duke, landing lightly on the ground, stared at the explosion and muttered, [Persistent things, these undead.]
From within the thick smoke, Romario’s hand shot out and grabbed the Grand Duke’s helmet with a thump. More of Romario’s tattered hands grabbed her arm and shoulder.
"Ah!"
"The Grand Duke has been caught!"
Seeing this, the warriors were horrified and rushed forward. Romario staggered and let out a terrible voice.
[Kill... me.]
Inside her helmet, she calmly closed her eyes. "I am not the one who will kill you."
Sensing a presence, the undead Romario turned around. Ganiro, having emerged through the smoke, was floating upside down behind him.
"Romarioooooo!"
His left arm, transformed into lightning, cleanly severed Romario’s neck. Only then, having lost both its core and head, did Romario’s body go limp.
Ganiro, unable to withstand the force of his own blow, rolled on the ground, finally coming to a stop against a nearby tree as he caught his breath.
He heaved, gasping for air. His left arm, which he had hastily turned into lightning in the absence of a sword, was scorched black.
Romario’s head rolled to a stop next to Ganiro. Ganiro looked at it.
[Gani....]
The head was speaking.
[...orry....]
Ganiro gritted his teeth. ’Dammit! Now of all times...!’
He had suspected it. That Romario had tried to help the North back then.
"While the situation in the North you speak of is unfortunate, we also require approval from our superiors."
He couldn’t move his troops because of the central nobles and orders from even higher up. That’s just how the military was. What more could he have expected? What could Romario have done? Even though he knew all that, it was hard to forgive.
"Damn it! Damn it!" Ganiro, who had been shouting in anger, soon slumped over like a man who had given up. Then, with his blackened, useless arm, he slowly closed Romario’s eyes. "Yeah, this is how it all ends."
The one who tried to abandon his friend to claw his way up. The one whose personality turned to crap while rotting in a harsh land. The end is the same. Everyone just returns to dust. He was a bastard unworthy of being called a friend, but...
"Farewell, you damn bastard."
He decided to at least pray for his peace on his final journey.
The Grand Duke approached, her armor clanking with each step.
[Have you settled your heart?]
"...Grand Duke." He let out a bitter smile. "What are you doing coming to help me? What about that Chronos bastard you were fighting?"
[I broke him. He fled with his tail between his legs, but I shot down all the moons.]
Ganiro looked up at the sky. The red moons that had been strengthening the undead were all gone. It was truly an absurd level of power.
[I will now give the order. Rest.]
Ganiro let his arms hang limp and closed his eyes. "Thank you."
Medics carrying a stretcher were running toward them.
While Ganiro and Romario were fighting fiercely, the situation on other fronts was also rapidly unfolding. The biggest problem was where the ’Third Brother’ was located.
Simon panted, letting the sword in his hand hang low. His opponent was none other than the Third, Grayson. As she raised her arms, countless undead birds poured out endlessly from the hole in her back.
’Grayson...!’
Surprisingly, she had been in the Kingdom Army. But a bigger question loomed. ’Why on earth did the Northern God make Grayson the Third? She’s not a warrior, just a civilian.’
He didn’t know the details, but he suspected she might have some hidden ability. The way she commanded so many dead birds seemed to confirm it. Just then, he heard Pier’s voice.
[You’d better give up on bringing the Third into the legion!]
"Pier!"
[The Three Brothers are individuals with whom the Northern God has made a direct contract by bestowing its power! There’s no room for another necromancer to interfere.]
Simon fell silent.
He raised his head and looked at Grayson. Did he really have to give up just like that?
[Simon, I’m sorry,] she said, waving her arms. [I can’t defy the Northern God.]
The birds that had poured out now rushed toward Simon. He raised his sword and took a battle stance. ’I have to get close first.’
Simon and his Royal Guard, leaving turquoise trails in their wake, charged toward the flock of birds sent by Grayson. They swung their swords like madmen, breaking through the avian swarm. They quickly closed the distance to Grayson, but...
’There are too many!’
The black birds’ beaks were like sharp daggers. The Royal Guard around him crumbled, and Simon also took damage.
[I’m sorry.] The Third, Grayson, took a stance with her hands clasped together. The flock of birds clumped together, then charged like a great spear and rammed into Simon.
Simon, who had barely managed to deploy a Jet-Black shield, was sent flying several meters, skidding to a stop. Even now, Grayson was still pulling birds from her back.
"Let me ask you one thing, Grayson! Why were you in the Kingdom Army?"
She hung her head low and answered meekly, [Count Voldmont threatened me... I’m sorry. I had no choice.]
It seemed she had been allied with Count Voldmont. The leak of the Abyss’s location was likely her doing. Just then, she clutched her head. "Ugh!"
[Please run away, Simon! I—] She shed tears of blood. [I don’t think I can control myself much longer!]
She clearly didn’t look well. Simon’s mind raced. ’Her condition is different from Chronos. While he willingly cooperated with the Northern God even after becoming undead, Grayson is clearly resisting it.’
His gaze shifted. ’The Second, Commander Romario, also just kept repeating ’kill me’. Does the Northern God’s ability affect people differently?’
He wanted to think more, but there was no time. Grayson’s flock of birds was once again swarming toward him.
[I’m on my way, so don’t overdo it, boy! Your opponent is the Third!] Pier’s voice warned.
’Okay.’
Simon took a long, reverent breath and sharpened all his senses.
’I’ll do what I can.’
He had no intention of backing down.

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