After the Grand Duke left for Vilkenos, the Northern Army began its retreat. In the chaos, Simon gathered the remaining forces of the 7th Legion, slipped out through a back route, and took up a position behind the mountain range. Erzebet cast a flawless barrier, and they lay low, silent as the dead. All reconnaissance was conducted by her Corpse Spiders.

Then, a report came in.

[Legion Commander!] Erzebet’s voice echoed in his mind. [The Northern God’s undead forces are finally on the move! They’re swarming to attack the retreating Northern Army!]

Simon nodded.

"Good. Now’s our chance."

The plan was simple: while the Northern God’s forces were focused on the Northern Army, the 7th Legion would cross the mountain range and strike the ’real Abyss’ in one fell swoop.

Simon turned his head.

"I’m counting on you, Herseva."

Herseva appeared with an acrobatic somersault in mid-air.

[Leave it to me, kiddo!]

Sand flowed from her staff, beginning to coalesce on the ground. She extended her arm, and Simon met it with his own. As their arms touched, they both closed their eyes.

A heavy ’thump’ echoed in his chest—the pulse of Jet-Black. The moment he connected with Herseva’s thoughts, her memories poured into him like a tidal wave. Longing. Aspiration. A heart-wrenching ache. Simon accepted all of it.

’Go, Herseva,’ he thought, adding his own imagination to her memories, helping her recall and unfold the fragments of the past she had spoken of.

A deep rumble shook the ground. Upon the blank canvas of the snowfield, golden sand spread like scattered seeds. It undulated like a wave, and soon, the shapes of rooftops began to erupt from the ground.

[Oho.]

[That’s amazing, Sand Lady!] the other Ancient Undead murmured in admiration.

A smile touched Simon’s lips. ’Expansion of the World of Sand.’

Herseva’s power, the ’World of Sand,’ was typically an ability used to draw others into her own personal dungeon. This time, however, she was expanding her innate power in the real world, manifesting it on a scale that rivaled her domain.

The ground continued to tremble. In the middle of the raging blizzard, a desert city made of sand took shape. Once it reached a certain size, the entire city detached from the ground like an island and began to rise into the air.

Simon ran and grabbed onto the roof of a building, his voice filled with excitement.

"Now! Everyone, get on!"

The undead swarmed aboard as if they had been waiting for the command. Soon, the legion’s remaining forces were on the floating city of sand as it drifted gently into the sky.

"Erze!"

[Leave it to me!] Hanging from the city’s edge, she clenched her fist. The spiderwebs that formed the barrier shifted, clinging to the underside of the island. The bottom of the city shimmered, becoming like a mirror that reflected the color of the sky—a camouflage Erzebet often used.

From below, it would be nearly impossible to spot. Of course, flying undead on patrol would have seen them immediately, but the Northern God had none left. Before joining the 7th Legion, Grayson had severed his control over all flying undead in his domain and set them free.

’Thanks to you, Grayson,’ Simon thought, offering his gratitude inwardly before extending his arm. "Let’s go, Herseva!"

[Here we go!]

Herseva set the city in motion. The sheer, snow-covered mountains stretched out below. On foot, the journey would have taken days, but with this flying fortress, they would reach the Northern God’s location in less than half a day.

[Everyone be careful,] Herseva warned. [We’re barely under the weight limit!]

At her words, the rowdy undead immediately quieted down. Indeed, a steady stream of sand was trickling from the city’s underside.

"Alright. All commanders, gather ’round," Simon announced, clapping his hands. "A battle will break out the moment we arrive at the Abyss, so let’s assign duties."

[Assignments?] Prince tilted his head and approached.

With a series of soft bounces, Pluto, the 2nd Legion’s blue rabbit, hopped over and landed on Simon’s shoulder.

[I get it, myon! You said you saw ten Abysses in your memory, right? Myon myon!]

"That’s right."

Pier let out a dry chuckle.

[And I suppose only one of them is the real one!]

"Yes. The Northern God probably hoped any attackers would give up and turn back," Simon said, the corners of his lips curling up. "But I plan to search all ten if I have to. I’ll make him realize exactly who he’s made an enemy of."

At his words, a fierce fighting spirit flared in the minds of all the Ancient Undead.

---

"We’re being attacked from the rear!"

"Dammit! They keep coming down from the mountains!"

The Northern Army, retreating to Vilkenos, was met by the vast undead horde of the Northern God. With no time to recover from their defeat, they were relentlessly swarmed.

"It’s over," a warrior muttered in despair. They had achieved nothing at the Abyss, their supposed final battleground. They had no Grand Duke to lead them, and their food and supplies were critically low.

"To think we came all this way."

"Are we going to end up like the Kingdom’s army?"

As the shadow of defeat deepened, a grim despair settled over the soldiers. Just then—

"Get ahold of yourselves!" Great General Ganiro roared, wreathed in crackling black lightning as he led the charge from the front. Every time his sword sliced through the air, the Northern God’s undead were burned to a crisp. "Take up your swords! Raise your heads! Where has the pride of the North gone?!"

But their broken morale was not easily restored. The Northern Army was defined not just by its combat experience but by its fiery passion. Once that was extinguished, they were helpless.

Ganiro lamented inwardly. ’Her Excellency could awaken the soldiers with a single gesture. What is the difference between us?’

But his doubt was fleeting. He recalled the Grand Duke’s voice.

—’There must be no more sacrifices.’

Retreat always meant sacrifice. It was a given that the Northern God’s forces would strike from behind. The Northern God had always operated that way, and the Grand Duke knew it. Nevertheless, she had forbidden any more sacrifices. She had always been that kind of person, doing everything in her power to save even those beyond her reach.

The ’Arrow of Gale’ was a testament to that, as were the wide-ranging undead of the 2nd Legion. She wasn’t using them as sacrificial pawns. Finding a way to save her people even in the worst of situations—that was the way of Jin Arscalt.

"Believe in Her Excellency the Grand Duke!" Ganiro bellowed, leaping into the air. Jet-Black sparked violently from his sword. With a deafening roar, he swung his blade down, and a black thunderbolt tore through the undead formation. Bathed in its intense light, the soldiers looked up at him.

"A miracle will soon occur!" Ganiro raised his lightning-wreathed sword high. "There is a way for everyone to survive. Trust in the Grand Duke and strike the enemy before you!"

"Great General! What are you talking about—"

Just then, as if in a dream, all the undead froze.

The Northern God’s forces, which had been poised to attack, suddenly turned their backs.

"They’re retreating!"

"...We’re saved!"

Sighs of relief erupted as warriors collapsed to the ground. Ganiro grinned.

’Just as I thought!’

The Northern God was recalling his soldiers. Someone was attacking him. In that case, there was only one thing for them to do.

"Chase the fleeing bastards!" Ganiro commanded, leading the charge.

"Aren’t we retreating, sir?"

"Cling to them until the very end! We are not a defeated army!" Ganiro shouted himself hoarse. "The Northern God’s neck is within our grasp! Our role is crucial!"

---

After crossing several snow-covered mountains, the sand city carrying Simon’s 7th Legion finally arrived at the Abyss. It was exactly as Grayson had described: a crimson landscape pocked with ten gaping holes.

[The forces have really been pulled back! Legion Commander!] Erzebet exclaimed, clasping her hands.

With the main base’s defenses weakened to pursue the Northern Army, Pier chuckled.

[The Northern God is definitely here! I can feel a truly vile current of Jet-Black.]

After hearing his commanders’ reports, Simon nodded.

"Alright, let’s go in all at once. It’ll be tough, but I’m counting on you, Herseva!"

[Got it!] Herseva activated her power once more, and the large sand city split into six parts: Pier’s skeleton troops, Erzebet’s Corpse Spider troops, Prince’s zombie troops, Akemuth’s Skullwing troops, Pluto and the remaining forces of the 2nd Legion, and finally, Simon and the legion’s named undead. A total of six units.

"Go to the deepest part of the Abyss and confirm if the Northern God is there," Simon ordered. "Commanders who finish their search, come back up and enter the next Abyss! The first to find him sends a signal."

[Understood!]

Simon truly intended to search every single one. He raised a hand and pointed at the enemy’s position.

[Advance.]

The six separate sand castles crumbled from above, and the legion’s forces poured into the holes of the Abyss.

"Herseva! To me!" Simon called, extending his arm as he fell.

Herseva, looking utterly exhausted, descended and landed in his hand.

"Sorry, but can you fight a little longer?"

[What? I’m dead on my feet!]

"I know. But..." The Northern God’s undead were already swarming from the black maw below. Simon swung his staff. "This is the final battle in the North. We have no choice but to push ourselves to the absolute limit!"

He invoked ’Golden Transformation’.

When Simon swung Herseva at the wall of the Abyss, it turned to gold, and a small passage opened, disgorging a torrent of mummies.

"Let’s go, mummies!" Simon roared. He, his mummy troops, and the named undead he had acquired in the North charged forward as one. The ’Gourmand’ tore through worm-like undead with its claws, while the ’One-Eyed’ crushed its foes under a massive arm.

"Argh!" Not to be outdone, Simon swung his staff. The mummies, linked to his thoughts, all threw their bandages. With a great ’fwoosh’, the swarming undead were instantly bound and slammed against the wall. Simon himself leaped into the fray to deal with any that dodged the attack.

He unleashed ’Hongfeng Original: Chwita’.

With a ’crack’, he shattered the face of a Maturo undead, spun, and raised his arm. Bones clicked into place around his right forearm.

’Bone Armor: Handgun Mode’.

A staccato burst of bone bullets shot from the muzzle, riddling the undead with holes. His right hand executed the techniques he’d learned at school while his left wielded Herseva’s power. He opened a subspace with his right hand and controlled the mummies with his left. Their bandages plunged into the subspace, dragged out zombies, and flung them forward.

Simon stopped firing and clenched his outstretched palm.

’Corpse Explosion’

A series of explosions rocked the cavern.

Dashing through the thick cloud of dust, Simon repeatedly struck the wall with the staff in his left hand. A golden slide instantly formed on the wall. He planted his feet on it and shot downward.

[Kiddo! Large-scale undead force ahead!] Herseva warned.

"Yeah." The Northern God was finally sending his forces in earnest. Their numbers were considerable, and the potent Jet-Black he felt told him they were elites.

’This is going to be tough.’ Simon reached his right hand behind him. A golden flag from his subspace slapped into his palm.

’The Grand Duke’s flag.’

With the flag held before him, Simon’s eyes sharpened.

’Is now the time to use it?’