Because I Am Surtr

"A meaningless act."

On the second floor of the main control tower, twenty-two sword-and-shield wielders were shattered and pulverized. Iron turned into molten water, and flesh and machinery melted into indistinguishable living beings. Even the most agile sword-and-shield fighters could only approach within five meters of Surtr, only to fall defeated in the aura-like flames of its breath.

"You are wasting your lives in vain."

On the third floor of the main control tower, the bowstrings of seven master archers snapped. One hundred and seventy-seven arrows flew, none missing their mark, yet none achieving any effect. Whether they were pure metal armor-piercing arrows, composite mechanical explosive arrows, reinforced energy Originium arrows, or forbidden curse arrows—none missed, and none took effect. Even the best result was the arrows losing their kinetic energy three meters from the visitor's body, then disintegrating into ash.

"To challenge a Cataclysm you cannot possibly face."

On the fourth floor of the main control tower, the combined Arts of eleven veteran Arts Casters touched the outer two meters of the visiting Flame-haired Woman. Frost, Tekkai, radiation, curses, lava—various elemental powers were harmoniously integrated, creating a magnificent symphony that could be called a work of art—they gave their all, exhausted all their means, and yet, returned empty-handed.

The visitor passed by the exhausted Arts Casters as if passing through useless weeds.

"I can sense the fear, unease, and confusion within your hearts."

On the fifth floor, a group of well-coordinated Sarkaz mercenaries awaited the visitor. They belonged neither to W nor to Theresis. They were telepathically connected and brimming with experience—they employed crossbows, explosives, poison gas, sonic waves—all manner of armaments and tactics that a person could conceive of, and which would be enough to easily annihilate a small-scale elite unit. And then—

—they returned empty-handed.

They fought until their last moments, yet they couldn't delay the visitor even a single step.

"If you were to flee, I would not stop you."

On the sixth floor, Lateran Curse Masters and Kazimierz Veteran Knights jointly launched a pincer attack. Their Arts were profound, capable of making the clouds in the sky resonate. Their swordsmanship was exquisite, capable of cutting the boundary between light and shadow. They complemented each other in offense and defense, doing their utmost. Even assassinating a warlord's convoy would surely be achievable. Yet in the end—

—their greatest achievement was merely allowing their cursed swords to touch the flame barrier surrounding the visitor within one meter.

Then, they melted.

Staves broke, swords snapped.

"But you still choose foolishness, choose to bring about your own destruction."

On the seventh floor, four hundred well-trained soldiers were poised in their positions. War hounds, high-energy Originium slugs, Arts Casters, shield guards, crossbowmen, mortars, drones, heavy assault units, and elite cadres—they were an army, with no weaknesses and no flaws. And they had a battlefield position that maximized their combat effectiveness—they surged towards the visitor like a tide. They shattered like waves crashing against a reef.

They failed.

The visitor did not retreat a single step, nor did she pause for even an instant. The flame aura outside her body shattered, but another barrier formed against her skin, as solid and unyielding as despair itself made manifest.

And so, the army of four hundred fell silent.

The visitor then ascended to the eighth floor of the main control tower.

The eighth floor was empty, clean, and quiet enough.

The white-haired Dragon Girl awaited her on the main platform at the top of the tower.

The visitor slightly raised her head, gazing at the white-haired Dragon Girl before her. In the visitor's eyes, the twilight vortexes behind the Dragon Girl churned.

—Thunder struck.

Amidst the booming thunder, the visitor raised her hand, lightly pressing her fingertips against Laevateinn, which floated by her side—the red and black greatsword immediately ignited with fierce flames. Her eyes were fixed, staring at the waiting one before her.

Waiting for the last words the white-haired Dragon Girl wished to utter.

"Sixteen two-handed swordsmen from the Ursus army. Each of them has the honor of single-handedly taking a position."

The Dragon Girl rose from the high platform, wind swirling around her.

"Twenty-two sword-and-shield wielders, from a decommissioned Ursus military designation. Before their retirement, they defended the regimental flag on a battlefield facing enemies on all sides, and after thirteen hours of bloody battle, they stood firm as the last survivors, along with the flag."

Her sword glowed red, her will diffused with the heat.

"Seven master archers, from all over Terra. Among them are Sargon hunters capable of hunting giant beasts alone. There are Kazimierz foresters who once became phantoms on the battlefield. There are elite snipers from the Ursus army. There are veteran rangers from Higashi. I would never dare claim I could retreat unscathed from their coordination; each of them carries a heavy honor."

The tips of her hair fluttered, the tangible aura transforming into an invisible, coiled armor.

"Eleven Arts Casters, one-third of whom I personally taught. Some were once nameless Infected, some were exiles from city-states. Some were once famous scholar-rangers. They spent thirteen long months to construct that combined Arts spell."

Her steps were firm, each one causing the entire tower to tremble slightly.

"Forty-one Sarkaz mercenaries, who experienced the civil war in Kazdel. They once fought against Sarkaz Babel Tower and the 'Fire Giant King' who was once affiliated with Sarkaz Babel Tower on the battlefield and survived. To avenge their past defeats, they trained themselves to their limits for three years and seven months. Every tactic they employed was aimed at the aspects of power the 'Fire Giant King' had once displayed. Their resolve could not be melted even by lava."

Her gaze was focused, her eyes fixed only on the flame-haired 'her'.

"Mo Tie, Yun Liu, retired battle knights. Sibyl, Simonsc, Curse Masters who once held positions in Lateran's high towers, even following the Twin Empresses. Their combined power had never known defeat; even Bodegard could only barely match their combination with Frostnova's assistance. And they knew what Dusk was, and were always prepared to participate in this war, which might be the last of their lives."

Then, she raised the long sword in her hand. The tip of the sword pointed firmly and unyieldingly in the direction of the visitor.

"Finally, my four hundred guards—I brought them out one by one from the slums, from the dungeons, from the mines, from the gallows. And after obtaining their consent, I shared oaths and blood with them. I taught them everything I had learned, everything I had understood. And after understanding my thoughts and ideals, they were still willing to accompany me to this point."

Her words were finished.

"So, is that all you wanted to say?" the visitor asked, maintaining her usual posture of seeming seriousness but actual indifference. She watched the Dragon Girl on the battlefield. "They were serious, they worked hard, and they followed the wrong person. They did the wrong thing. And then?"

The Dragon Girl's gaze slightly lowered.

"Five hundred and one people, each of them knew my ideals. They knew why I came here, why I attacked this city. Why I guarded this tower, why I waited here—they knew I was waiting for you. They knew what level of power you possessed and the consequences that await those who defy you. And in your eyes, they are like mere ants."

"If you hadn't led the Reunion Movement here and committed such evil deeds, then this battle would never have had a premise to erupt." —Her visitor spoke without hesitation, without reservation.

"But you chose to do so... Why did you do it?"

"My purpose?" The white-haired Dragon Girl shook her head slightly. "My purpose is very simple."

"I just wanted to tell you how much thought, how much effort I've put into the Reunion Movement. How much time, energy, and passion I've spent. And now I am leading them to ruin, like a swarm of ants walking into a fire."

"Yes, I know what I am doing. I am destroying the Reunion Movement I built with my own hands, I am taking on the torrent of condemnation for the Infected. I am pushing everyone who once believed in me, who once followed me, into certain death—I want to kill them, I want them to witness what Dusk is."

The visitor parted their lips slightly, then closed them. A silent sigh escaped their lips.

"So, all of this comes from your own will. It's not due to any bewitchment, temptation, or some strange mental issue?"

"Yes, all of this comes from my own will." The white-haired Dragon Girl advanced with her sword. "I have never regretted it, nor have I ever hesitated."

And then the tide of Dusk surged.

Chapter Twenty-Six: All Mortals Must Die

How does one defeat a superior in strength, speed, reaction, and skill?

How can one defeat a tactical master who can easily see through all traps?

How can one defeat a teacher who has never stopped improving, with swordsmanship that has not surpassed theirs?

How can one defeat a myth that disregards the earth, using the concepts and techniques learned from them?