The hissing voice rang in his ears. Even its manner of speaking resembled Aviditas's. Even its voice.

Though it carried no divinity, a fear-inducing curse blanketed the factory district like fog.

Fear was essentially a nervous response in the human body. Like all emotions, it was a hormonal mechanism—in this case, one triggered by a threat to life.

Thus, anyone who could regulate their bodily functions to the appropriate degree would never experience the illusion called fear. Ivan looked up at the enormous death dragon with sunken eyes.

"Is this all you've prepared?"

"What?"

"Stop playing games and give me everything you have. Only the weak use fear as a weapon."

Ivan dispersed the curse of fear that enveloped and buffeted him. The mana rising like a heat haze shattered and faded.

Using fear to make oneself seem larger was merely a survival tactic for prey. Predators did not use fear as a tool. Their very existence was proof enough of terror.

He had to time it right. It would spew spells endlessly, and he had to slip into the gaps between them. That was where the fight would be decided.

Ivan gripped his axe tightly and lowered his stance, ready to charge at any moment. At the same time, he saw every dwarven cannon present take aim at him.

Meeting Ivan's gaze, the death dragon growled.

"I had hoped you would prepare better last words. Your end today deserves to be the first chapter of an epic that will endure forever. If that is all you have, I shall now carry out your deferred death sentence."

WHIIIIINE!!

Mana radiated from the death dragon and engulfed all the dwarves at once. Just as the terrified dwarves recoiled in shock—

BOOM!!

The dwarves' skulls exploded in unison.

Amid the horrific noise of splattering blood and twisting metal, blood surged upward like a storm. From behind its shadow, the death dragon's voice echoed.

"The most valuable use for these paltry dwarves' lives—"

As mana swept through the air, Ivan had already leaped into the air.

Now. Paradoxically, a mage was most vulnerable at the very moment a spell was being woven.

Ivan's axe cleaved the air. Scattering the gathering mana, he kicked off a wall and leaped higher, toward the ceiling once more.

Then a red flash struck him in the chest like lightning.

"—is to make their deaths repay a death. This is Aviditas's 'Exaction of the Price'!"

The red flash burrowed through Ivan's skin and constricted his heart. The bundles of cardiac muscle at its core failed all at once. His blood stopped flowing, and his nervous system thrashed in disarray.

Aviditas's Exaction of the Price. An instant-death spell that sacrificed the lives of the terrified to strike a particular person with inescapable death.

The number of sacrifices one could prepare was limited, the criteria for selecting them demanding, and the result was only useful against warriors without magical protection.

But there were enough dwarves here who were terrified of Ivan. Against a lone Ivan charging in without a mage, it would be effective enough. They had opened the battle by striking him with their most powerful single-target spell.

Of course. That was how they ought to play it.

Ivan thought this as he felt his stopped heart and spasming nerve bundles. His blood had ceased to flow, and warmth was rapidly draining from his extremities.

He had expected it. If they were using Aviditas's spells, this would be their most effective offensive option right now. Back then, Aviditas himself had used it to kill three agents outright as the battle began.

CRACKLE!

Ordinarily, people in cardiac arrest writhed, clutched their chests, and died. They reflexively grabbed at their hearts and collapsed.

Ivan, too, clutched his chest in midair. A natural gesture. He laid the mana burning at his fingertips just above his solar plexus.

CRACKLE, CRACKLE!

He drove mana directly into his heart, forcing stimulation into the halted bundles of cardiac muscle. Making them repeat the simple motions of contraction and relaxation.

His heart slowly began to beat, one throb after another. The enemy's spell was a [Curse]. It did not merely stop his heart once. Until the spell was broken, it would keep inducing cardiac arrest.

Ivan was not versed in magic. He had no skill for deftly dispelling it. Thus, he had no way to escape this curse.

But like most spells, this curse would unravel with its caster's death.

In other words, if he could continuously apply the appropriate stimulation to his cardiac muscle until the enemy died, the curse would effectively accomplish nothing.

"What...?!"

'Sergei, Nikolai, Polina.'

He had devised this countermeasure while remembering the three agents whom Exaction of the Price had killed instantly.

Ivan righted himself in midair, redirecting his falling body to kick off the wall once more.

Closing to within striking distance of the death dragon, he raised his axe and swung wide.

CRUNCH!!

The next spell descending on him shattered. Perhaps because it had been fired in haste, it was 'Chains of Decay,' limited to physical damage. No contact, no decay. Useless.

Two people had died to this spell.

'Anna, Valeria.'

He reached the thighbone of the creature planted on the ground. A dense curse suddenly crept up his body like something viscous. Toxins seared his skin and burrowed into his blood vessels.

But it was all right. He had already administered antidotes for every kind of toxin he expected to enter his body when he closed in for hand-to-hand combat.

'Alinya, Leonid, Visali.'

Three people had died upon reaching this point. Back then, they had lacked both the time and the preparation to administer immune boosters and antidotes.

Countless spells struck. Curses coursed over his body, tried to burn his soul, and pushed his planted feet into a pit of despair.

But it was all right.

The agents who had died back then had already experienced all of this, each in turn.

They seemed to have restored almost all of Aviditas's legacy. They had had enough time, and they were capable of it.

But. It was all right.

Once a trained agent had faced Aviditas, mere imitation could never defeat him. They would have to surpass the original.

He had already experienced it all. For countless days, he had replayed that time and prepared.

Sasha, Anatoly, Yulia, Viktoria, Kserinya, Valiya, Yelchina, Roman, Artyom...

In the order they had died, Ivan remembered every agent's name, life, and cause of death.

"Die! Die!! Diiiie!!"

The death dragon convulsed and twisted. Its draconic form crumbled, and human bones steeped in curses exploded like grenades, battering Ivan's body.

But. It was all right.

He must not find it difficult to do again what he had already experienced once.

Even if he faced Aviditas again at full strength, Ivan must not find it difficult. That would insult those who had gone before him.

He could not bring back those who were already dead. The comrades who had died because of his mistakes, his shortcomings, would never return. What he regretted could never be undone.

But there was one promise he could make them.

He would never forget that day. Ever.

Dozens of spells, mighty blows delivered by a massive body, swarming venomous vermin, and illusions that disoriented the senses.

Even facing all of them, it was all right.

Ivan ripped apart the death dragon's chest and brought it down. Letting the collapsing bones strike his body, he walked toward the necromancers faltering backward beyond it.

It was all right. He had been through this before.

He almost felt as though he could sense their terror keenly within his grasp.

It was all right. Their master, too, had died feeling that same emotion.

This was merely living through something he had already experienced. Perhaps, then, it was nothing more than a replay of a long game.

What they faced now was the Extermination 'Unit.'

"I've seen enough of what I failed to accomplish."

"I-Ivan, you—!!"

"I hope you have, too. I hope you've seen what you failed to accomplish."

Ivan raised his axe.

So long as even one person remained, the Extermination Unit was not dead.

And so he would show them what the thing even Aviditas had failed to take away could do, despite that failure.

How it could succeed. How far it could go.

"Rise!! Stop him!!"

The necromancers' mana writhed, and the fallen, headless dwarves began grasping their weapons and standing again.

They had lost their fear of Ivan, but still bore dwarven armor and held dwarven weapons. Vigorous corpses that had yet to lose even their body heat.

Ivan gave a quiet nod, then immediately threw himself forward again.

When destroying the phylactery containing a soul was impossible, the best way to kill the dead again was to destroy the body ceaselessly—truly ceaselessly—until that destruction put a strain on the phylactery itself.

Fortunately, he had done it before. And these opponents would be easier than the last.

Disciples took after their master. It was only fitting that they should imitate even the manner of his eternal oblivion.

Ivan advanced, crushing the dwarves coming toward him.

Shattered corpses, collapsed armor, and broken weapons formed a trail behind his back.

It was all right.

His heart, his arms, his legs. They still moved.