In the deepest, darkest corner of the North, Commander Romario descended into a black pit where gravel and dust rained down like hail.

"Hah... Hah... Out of my way!" he roared, swinging his sword and cleaving a zombie’s head from its shoulders.

His body was a testament to a brutal battle. His armor was shattered, his weapon chipped and dull. Blood streamed from a gash on his forehead where his helmet had been broken. He was descending alone. His comrades, Chronos and Count Voldmont, were gone, as were the rest of his soldiers.

He raised his head, panting. This was the Abyss, the domain of the Northern God. He didn’t know how deep he had gone, but a persistent chill crawled down his spine. He felt as if he had reached the very end of the world.

’It’s not too late.’ He tightened his grip on his sword, his face a mask of determination. ’If I can just kill the Northern God, I can make up for everything.’

The God’s strength lay in its ability to command countless undead with its mind. Its own body, however, possessed no combat prowess. All he had to do was find it and plunge his sword into its heart. Victory would be his.

As he continued to carve a path through the undead, he finally realized he had reached his destination. A grim smile touched his lips. ’This is the place.’

The bottom of the Abyss. The nexus where countless pulsing blood vessels converged. He pressed forward without hesitation, cutting down the last of the undead, when the attack came. It was completely unexpected. A zombie crawling on the floor latched onto his leg with a sickening ’chomp’.

"Ugh!"

His knee buckled, but he immediately smashed the zombie’s head with his elbow. The bite was deep, tearing away skin and revealing a sliver of bone, but he gritted his teeth, forced himself to his feet, and staggered onward.

’The Northern God is right in front of me!’

The fact that the undead grew more numerous the deeper he went only strengthened his conviction. After eliminating the last of the guardians, he finally reached the heart of the Abyss. He pushed aside a membrane of blood that hung like a curtain and stepped inside.

And then.

"...Ah."

Despair washed over him. The tip of his sword trembled before slipping from his grasp, clattering against the ground. All strength fled his body as a piercing shriek echoed behind him. The swarm of zombies descended, tearing at his neck.

---

At the break of dawn, the order was given.

"Advance!"

The day of deployment had finally arrived. A horn blast echoed across the mountains as the full might of the North marched toward the Frost Field. The Northern Army, the Grand Duke’s 2nd Legion, and Simon’s 7th Legion—all advanced as one to extinguish the last embers of the Northern God’s life.

"Are you nervous?" the Grand Duke asked, riding at the head of the column.

Simon, at her right, scratched the side of his head. "It would be a lie to say I’m not."

The fate of the North rested on this final battle. Just in case, Simon had already contacted Kizen to delay his return date. The fight before him was all that mattered now.

"By the time we arrive, the battle might already be over, Your Excellency," Great General Ganiro said, a disgruntled look on his face. "The thought of those Kingdom army bastards planting the Kalos flag on the Northern God’s corpse and snickering..."

"General," the Grand Duke cut in, her sharp, raptor-like eyes narrowing. "It seems you believe something is more important than the death of the Northern God. If the God is dead, you should rejoice. Are your pride and glory more important than that?"

Ganiro flinched and averted his gaze. "Th-that’s not what I meant! I simply believe that it should be us Northerners who end this centuries-long war!"

"Of course, I too desperately wish to pierce the Northern God’s throat with my own sword. But do not confuse your priorities. You are always like this when it comes to matters involving Commander Romario."

Ganiro’s face flushed red. Simon chuckled quietly to himself. It was fascinating how the fearless warriors of the North, who seemed to fear nothing, became so flustered in the Grand Duke’s presence.

"Have you ever seen the Northern God in person, Your Excellency?" Simon asked.

"I have not," she replied. "However, I have heard that a few of the past Grand Dukes managed to reach its presence. Through their stories, information about its appearance and abilities has been passed down."

"...Ah."

"Of course, while there have been Grand Dukes who reached the God, there has never been one who destroyed it." She clenched her fist. "But this time will be different."

"Yes, ma’am!" Simon replied, his voice full of conviction.

"Ahem." She suddenly turned her head away. They had reached a point where they could exchange a few words, but she still had these occasional reactions. Simon tilted his head in confusion, only to see several generals behind them glaring at him with fire in their eyes.

"From now on, conserve your words and stay hydrated," the Grand Duke said, her tone all business. "We have mountains to cross."

An endless expanse of steep, snow-covered peaks lay before them.

---

Climbing the mountains was an arduous task. The temperature plummeted, and a fierce blizzard narrowed their vision. Worse, a single misstep on the treacherous slopes meant a fatal plunge into the abyss below, taking anyone behind you with you.

"Aaaaaaaah!"

Just then, two warriors tumbled from the dizzying heights. A chill ran down Simon’s spine, and he gripped a rocky handhold even tighter.

"Hurry!" the Grand Duke’s voice boomed, rallying the soldiers. "The legion’s undead are already far ahead! Will the warriors of the North be outdone?"

"No, ma’am!" they roared back.

The Grand Duke was a figure of faith in the North. Her every shout infused the warriors with new strength, and they moved with disciplined precision.

[Shall I pull you, my lord?] Erzebet’s voice whispered in his mind.

"It’s fine, Erze." Simon was scaling the cliff with ease, channeling Jet-Black into his limbs. He was confident in his climbing abilities, but Erzebet had insisted it was too dangerous and had connected them with a spider thread. As they climbed, however, her back kept drifting into his line of sight, making him hesitate. Each time, she would giggle, having noticed with uncanny perception. He suspected he had fallen for a deliberate ploy, but he pushed onward.

[I’ll give you a push!] Herseva, who was supposed to be in his subspace, had stubbornly emerged and was now plastered to his back. An arm made of sand extended from her staff, giving him a gentle shove. He certainly felt lighter.

"Thanks, Herseva."

[It’s the least I can do!] He felt they had grown closer since he helped her awaken her Geheim. Up ahead, he could see Erzebet grumbling.

[Kehehe! Don’t use up all your strength just yet, you three,] Pier said from above. He had already reached the next ledge and was wearing his full armor, likely to avoid being seen.

While Simon had the help of his comrades, the regular warriors were going through hell. Several had already fallen behind.

"Don’t let the cold break you!"

"Keep moving!"

In these extreme conditions, the famous ’pride of the North’ proved its worth. Everyone climbed with every ounce of their strength.

"The Grand Duke leads the way! What are you waiting for!"

"Her Excellency has stopped to wait for the rear! Pick up the pace!"

At the mention of the Grand Duke’s name, fire reignited in the eyes of the exhausted soldiers. Such was the might of the Northern Army. Simon was certain no other force in the Dark Alliance could compare.

After several grueling days of travel, they finally reached the summit.

"It seems we’ve made it," the Grand Duke said, looking down from the peak. Simon and Great General Ganiro joined her, their eyes falling upon the scene below.

"Ah." Simon’s eyes widened.

Below the mountain range lay a blood-red valley, teeming with countless undead nests. This was the source, the festering heart from which an endless tide of undead had tormented the North.

"Thank goodness!" Ganiro clenched his fist. "I don’t see the Kingdom’s army! They must have lost their way!"

The Grand Duke rested a hand on her chin, her gaze sweeping across the Abyss. "I doubt that. Judging by the collapsed nests, they reached this place."

"What? Then that means..."

"Aaaaaah!"

A scream suddenly erupted from behind them. The Grand Duke and Simon flinched and rushed to the source.

"What is it?" the Grand Duke demanded.

A warrior sat sprawled in the snow, pointing with a trembling finger. "A... a person!"

The face of a man was half-buried in the snow. Apparently, the warrior had stepped on something soft and had recoiled in horror upon realizing what it was.

The Grand Duke’s brow furrowed. "The Kingdom’s army."

The warrior was clearly in shock. A few of his comrades approached, snickering.

"Screaming like a little girl."

"Getting scared over something so small..."

The face in the snow twitched. The teasing warriors yelped in terror, scrambling backward and falling into the snow.

The head began to stir, twitching violently. An arm shot up from the snow with a muffled ’thump’.

"It’s turning," the Grand Duke stated flatly. With a sharp ring of steel, she drew her sword. "He may be from the Kingdom’s army, but it is a pity for a young life to be dragged into a war in a foreign land. Rest in peace."

Her sword pierced the creature’s heart, and the reanimating soldier went limp. She withdrew her blade and turned to her generals. "Prepare yourselves."

"Ma’am?"

"They’re coming."

A great roar of wind tore through the blizzard as a dark mass approached.

"An army!"

"The Northern God’s undead forces! To arms!"

The warriors of the North and the legion’s undead moved with frantic energy, forming a battle line. The Grand Duke, Simon, and the Northern generals strode to the front.

"There’s no need to fear! This is the last gasp of a god who has lost its fangs!"

"Whatever comes, we’ll wipe them out!"

"Ooooooh!"

On the verge of their long-awaited assault on the Abyss, the morale of the Northern Army was sky-high. As their war cries echoed across the peaks, the blizzard suddenly subsided, revealing the enemy.

"Wait."

"It can’t be..."

A chilling silence fell over the mountainside.

A tattered kingdom flag fluttered weakly in the biting wind. The silence was broken by a sickening sound—a relentless dragging. They saw broken armor, the corpses of warhorses, wounds gaping to reveal bone, and entrails frozen solid. With broken legs, shattered joints, and raw elbows, the figures crawled and shambled up the slope. The Northern Army froze, every soldier seemingly forgetting how to breathe.

’Ah.’ Simon’s pupils trembled.

Pier chuckled darkly beside him. [This reminds me of the old Rose Order army.]

The force blocking their path was none other than...

"The... the Kingdom’s army...!"

Before them stood the very soldiers who had marched off to destroy the Northern God two days ago. Every single one of them had been turned into an undead.

"What in the world is this...?"

While everyone stood frozen in shock at the nightmarish scene, the Grand Duke’s expression remained unchanged. "I anticipated the Northern God’s ability to create undead. But to reanimate a force of this scale in just a few days should be impossible, even for the God."

"Dammit!" a red-bearded general swore, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. "Those useless Kingdom bastards! They tried to be clever and march out first, and now they’re getting in our way like this?"

"It doesn’t matter." Great General Ganiro drew his sword with a sharp ring. "They may be controlled by the Northern God, but they haven’t been undead for long. We can easily crush such small fry..."

[Is that so, I wonder.]

A ghastly voice echoed from above. The northern sky warped into a crimson smear, and a single undead dropped to the ground with a ’thud’.

[Aah.] A grotesque undead, its flesh bristling with protruding bones, took its place at the head of the undead army. It was none other than...

"Chronos!" Ganiro roared.

[A perfect body!] the undead Chronos shrieked, spreading its arms wide. A high-pitched whine filled the air as, without an incantation, black magic erupted, cursing the surrounding undead. An ominous red and blue light flickered across their bodies as they were enhanced.

[O great Northern God!] the undead raved. [The God has granted me an infinite body, a sea of Jet-Black, and an army of the dead! I have finally reached the pinnacle!] With every magic circle he conjured, the undead grew stronger.

"What are you doing, you bastard!" Ganiro bellowed, stepping forward with a face contorted by rage. "You died in battle! Disappear with dignity! Have you lost all reason and pride as a human? Have you no shame!"

[Hm? Why would I be ashamed!] Chronos cackled, his body trembling with glee. [This is it! This is the power I’ve desired my entire life! With the Northern God’s power, I have become like a Legion Commander! I will transcend numbers and rule all undead according to the God’s will!] He spread his arms wide. [Allow me to introduce the Northern God’s new Three Brothers!]

Two heavy thuds sounded behind him.

All heads turned. A knight riding a skeletal horse approached, his body a mangled ruin, with only a quarter of it remaining. He had been eaten alive. Arms sprouted from various parts of his torso. His head was a hollow cavity where his brain should have been, his face ending at his eyebrows.

Ganiro’s eyes turned bloodshot. "D-don’t tell me. Romario!"

[Kill....] the dead commander’s mouth rasped. [Kill me... it hurts... Kill me...! Kill... ’gueeeek!’] A hand slick with saliva emerged from his throat, grotesquely drawing the sword from his belt with a wet ’squelch’.

[Second brother, still such a crybaby,] Chronos cackled.

Romario staggered, turning his ruined face toward Chronos. [Chro...nos... traitor... Kill....]

[Tsk, tsk. I merely met my true master in battle. Why can’t you understand? Ah! But why is the youngest so la—] Chronos’s grin vanished, his expression turning serious as he thrust his arm forward.

A black line of energy shot through the air with a piercing shriek. The Grand Duke, her long hair whipping in the wind, had unleashed an arrow of gale-force winds. Chronos threw up his arms, conjuring a defensive magic circle. The arrow slammed into it with a deafening roar that threatened to burst their eardrums.

Chronos squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he stared in disbelief at his intact barrier, then threw his head back and laughed with manic joy.

[Ha! Haha! I blocked it! I blocked a strike from the Hero of Humanity in a single blow! With this body, nothing is impossible!] he screamed, reveling in his newfound power. [Everyone, witness my—huh?]

With a deafening ’boom’, the light from the Grand Duke’s arrow flared, intensifying to a second stage. The arrow shattered the magic circle and slammed into Chronos’s body. The undead’s form began to disintegrate instantly.

[Wai—!]

With a series of sharp ’cracks’, the jet-black arrow tore through Chronos, plowing a path through the undead army and splitting it in two. Everyone watched, mouths agape, as the arrow finally exited Chronos’s back. His body, severed at the waist, tumbled onto the blood-stained snow.

"All troops, do not be afraid."

With a resolute motion, she who had obliterated one of the new Three Brothers in a single strike donned her black helmet. A dark light flared from within its visor.

[I am here.]