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A hissing voice echoed in his ears, bearing a tone eerily reminiscent of Abiditas’. Yet, devoid of any sanctity, it carried a curse that draped the factory zone in thick, suffocating fear, akin to dense fog.

Fear, intricately intertwined with the body’s nervous system, triggers a cascade of hormones in response to perceived threats to life, just like all other emotions.

Therefore, if you can regulate bodily functions to an appropriate level, you won’t feel the illusion of fear. Ivan looked up at the giant dragon with dull eyes.

“Is this all you’ve prepared?”

[What do you mean?]

“Don’t joke around, give it your all. Only the weak use fear as a weapon.”

Ivan dispersed the curse of fear that enveloped his body. The soaring magic, like a willow, shattered and faded away.

Inflating one’s physique with fear was just a survival strategy for the weak. Predators don’t use fear as a tool. Just their existence alone can prove fear.

Timing is crucial. He’ll keep casting spells endlessly, so he must seize the gap in between. The end of the match is at that point.

Ivan gripped the axe tightly and lowered his body, ready to charge at any moment.

At the same time, all the dwarven guns in this place seemed to be targeting him.

The dragon facing Ivan’s gaze growled.

[I had hoped you had prepared a better epitaph. Today, your end should be the first chapter of an eternal saga. If that’s all you’ve got, I shall execute your deferred death.]

-Kiiiiing—

The magic emanating from the dragon engulfed the dwarves simultaneously. In the moment when the dwarves, who were gripped by fear, were horrified,

-Kwaang—

The skulls of the dwarves exploded simultaneously.

Amidst the dreadful noise of blood splattering and metal twisting, at the moment when spurting blood rose like a storm. From behind that shadow, the voice of the dragon echoed.

[The most cost-effective way to use the lives of these insignificant dwarves—]

As the aura of magic swirled, Ivan’s body was already leaping into the air.

Now. At this moment when magic is being woven, the magician paradoxically becomes the most vulnerable.

Ivan’s axe sliced through the air. Scattering the gathering magic, he slammed against the wall and leaped upwards towards the ceiling once again.

And like lightning, a red flash struck Ivan’s chest.

[To repay death with death. This is Abiditas’s ‘price collection’!]

The red flash penetrated Ivan’s skin and grasped his heart. The myocardial bundle, the core of the heart, all malfunctioned simultaneously. Blood circulation stopped, and the nervous system plunged into chaos.

Abiditas’s price collection. It’s an instant-death spell that consumes the lives of those gripped by fear and inflicts an unavoidable death upon a specific individual.

It’s only useful for warriors who don’t have magical protection, as the number of sacrifices that can be prepared is limited, the conditions for selecting sacrifices are strict, and the result must be something achievable.

A sufficient number of dwarves gripped by fear were enough for Ivan. For Ivan alone, charging without a magician, it proved useful to cast the most powerful single-target spell at the beginning of the battle.

Naturally, it had to be that way.

Feeling his stopped heart and convulsing nerve bundle, Ivan thought. Blood circulation stopped, and the body temperature was rapidly dropping from the extremities.

He expected this. If Abiditas’s spell was used, then this would be the most effective attack spell at the moment. At that time, Abiditas also instantly killed three agents with this spell.

-Zap!

Typically, those who experience cardiac arrest twist their bodies, clutch their chests, and die. It’s reflexive to grab the heart and collapse.

Ivan also clutched his chest in mid-air. In a natural gesture. Placing the magic gathering at the tip of his fingers directly above his sternum.

-Zap, Zap!

Directly injecting magic into the stopped myocardial bundle and stimulating it with simple tension and relaxation, repeating it.

Thump, thump. The heart slowly began beating again. His damn spell is a curse. It not only stops the heart but also continuously induces cardiac arrest until his spell is broken.

Ivan had no mastery of magic. There was no skill to perform magic gracefully. Therefore, there was no way to escape from this curse.

However, as with most spells, this curse also dissipates with the death of the spellcaster.

In other words, if one can continuously apply appropriate stimulation to the myocardial bundle until the caster’s death, this curse would practically be of no use.

“What…?!”

“Sergei, Nikolai, Polina.”

It was a coping mechanism created by recalling the three agents who were instantly killed by the price collection.

Ivan adjusted his posture in mid-air and bounced off the falling body against the wall again.

Approaching the dragon, Ivan raised his axe high.

-Kwack!!

The next falling spell shattered. Limited to physical damage due to being hastily cast, the “chains of decay” are useless if they don’t make contact.

Two people died from this spell.

“Anna, Valeria.”

It reached as far as the femur of the falling one. The dense curse sticky climbed up Ivan’s body. The toxin burned his skin and penetrated into his bloodstream.

But it’s okay. He had already administered antidotes for all types of toxins expected during close combat.

“Alina, Leonid, Visalli.”

The three died when they reached this place. It was because there was insufficient time and preparation to administer immunostimulants and antidotes.

Numerous spells pierce through. The curse flows through the body, attempts to engulf the soul, and pushes the stepping foot into the abyss of despair.

But it’s okay.

All the agents who died during that time had already experienced it once.

It seemed like Abiditas’s legacy was almost fully restored. It was the right time, and he was the right person.

But. It’s okay.

Once you’ve experienced Abiditas, if you haven’t transcended it, you can’t defeat a “trained agent” with mere imitation.

He has already experienced it all. Countless days, he has reminisced about those times and prepared.

Sasha, Anatoly, Yuliya, Victoria, Kseniya, Valiya, Yelchyna, Roman, Artem….

In the order of their deaths, Ivan remembers the names, lives, and deaths of all those agents.

“Die! Die!! Die!!”

The dragon convulsed and twisted its body. The form of the dragon shattered, and the cursed human bones exploded like shrapnel, striking Ivan’s body.

But. It’s okay.

You shouldn’t feel difficulty in doing something you’ve already experienced once.

Even if he were to face Abiditas in its entirety again, Ivan couldn’t afford to feel difficulty. That would be an insult to those who had left first.

Those who have already died cannot be revived. His mistakes, his shortcomings, his deceased comrades will never return because of them. His regrets cannot be undone.

But he can make one promise to them.

That he will never forget the memories of that day. Forever.

Dozens of spells, powerful strikes using his body, attacking venomous creatures, and hallucinations that disrupt senses.

Even facing all of that, it’s okay.

Ivan tore apart the dragon’s chest, crushed it, and received the collapsing bones with his body. Stepping towards the necromancers retreating behind, he made his way.

It’s okay. He’s already experienced it.

It feels like their fear is palpable in his grasp.

It’s okay. Their master also died in those emotions.

Since it’s just reliving what they’ve already experienced, perhaps this is just a review of a long-standing conflict.

You are now facing the Cleanup “unit.”

“I’ve seen enough of what I couldn’t achieve.”

“I hope you did too. I hope you saw what you couldn’t achieve.”

Ivan raised his axe.

If even one person remains, the extermination unit is never truly annihilated.

So, even Abiditas couldn’t achieve. What it couldn’t achieve shows what is possible.

I’ll show what can be done, how far we can go.

“Rise!! Stop him!!”

The necromancers’ magic wavered, and the bodies of the dwarves, who had lost their minds and collapsed, began to hold their weapons again and stand up.

Free from fear of Ivan, but still holding onto their dwarven armor and sergeant’s equipment. They are still lively corpses, still with body temperature.

Ivan nodded silently and immediately threw himself forward again.

When you can’t destroy the relic box containing the soul, the best way to kill the dead again is.

To constantly, truly constantly, destroy it to the point where the destruction of the main body burdens the relic box itself.

Fortunately, I’ve already done it. And now, they are even easier opponents than they were then.

A disciple should resemble the master, even in the form of their annihilation.

Ivan advanced, slashing through the approaching dwarves.

Behind him, a trail of fallen bodies, broken armor, and shattered sergeant’s equipment.

It’s okay.

The heart, the arms, the legs. They’re still moving.