Chapter 402: Who am I ?
Most of the battles had now come to an end.
Only a few remained before the curtain would fall on this final round.
Somewhere in the vast battlefield...
Draxler sat atop a jagged rock, his sword plunged beside him into the ground.
Running a hand through his orange hair, Beatrice’s chosen knight sighed in boredom as he surveyed the ruined wasteland before him.
"That bastard... he really ran off."
After a long, intense battle, Ghost Umbra had proven to be a serious threat .. one Draxler considered a worthy opponent.
But just as their fight reached its peak...
Ghost had vanished, slipping away with a powerful, unexpected strike that sliced through Draxler’s right side.
The knight wiped the blood from his wound and tasted it.
"He really got me... that Ghost Umbra."
Sheathing his blade, Draxler turned and walked away from the battlefield.
"I’ll remember your name, kid."
He had no intention of chasing Ghost further ... not after sensing the monstrous aura radiating from another nearby clash.
Even a warrior of the Ultras knew when to back away from something truly monstrous.
Meanwhile...
Far from Draxler’s position, Ghost Umbra clung to a cliffside, his body covered in deep, gaping wounds.
Clutching the pair of dark daggers he’d brought from Londor, he forced himself to keep moving, staggering with each step.
"That man... he was strong. Too strong."
It was the first time Ghost had encountered a warrior like Draxler.
His strength had continued to rise throughout the fight .. nearly reaching SS rank by the end.
"If I’d kept fighting, I would’ve died."
Even after landing a blow with his spatial-cutting technique...
Ghost had only managed to slice through Draxler’s right side.
Knowing he couldn’t win, the silent killer had withdrawn ... turning his focus instead to what mattered more.
Finding his friends.
He was so badly wounded that dizziness overtook him from the sheer amount of blood he had lost.
Assassins like him were never meant for prolonged direct combat. Though Ghost was undeniably powerful... he knew his limits all too well.
"I need to find the others—fast."
He kept repeating the words like a mantra, forcing himself to move forward, step by step, unaware of his surroundings.
After a few minutes of dragging himself through the desolate terrain...
Ghost finally emerged into an open field—one that offered a wide view of the ruined wasteland ahead.
But the moment he stepped into that clearing, he froze.
Eyes wide. Mouth agape.
The only sounds he could hear were the shrill cries of crows and the haunting screech of the wind.
The stench of blood stifled his nose .. and for someone so accustomed to death, even he found it unbearable.
Before him...
The land was torn and scorched, as if ripped apart by gods. Giant craters dotted the battlefield like open wounds.
And scattered across them were broken corpses ... shredded, mangled, soaked in blood so thick it pooled into a crimson lake.
There was nothing left in that place... but death.
Hundreds... no, possibly over a thousand.
"What kind of battle could’ve left this behind? Who the hell fought here?!"
Ghost muttered unconsciously, staggering forward in disbelief, trying to process what lay before him.
Then he stopped.
Frozen in place.
He saw one man... walking slowly away from the bloody mire, body drenched in red.
At first, he didn’t recognize him.
But then he saw the twin dark swords at the man’s side.
And it all clicked.
...
...
...
—Frey Starlight’s Pov—
I had lost all sense of reality.
Drowned once again in darkness.
My consciousness was hollow .. numb, unable to grasp anything around me.
I remember fighting with everything I had... dragging this battered body across the battlefield.
I fought. And fought. And fought.
I ran like a madman... swung my blades like a dying beast...
I tried. But I lost.
I lost to Mergo.
That’s the last memory I had... before the darkness swallowed me whole.
I was supposed to be dead.
But I knew that couldn’t be true.
They wouldn’t let me die so easily.
I knew...
I knew this world wouldn’t let me go that easily.
And so, I waited.
Waited for the darkness to spit me back out into reality.
I felt it wrapping around me... tight and cold... like it was hugging me.
"Ah... how I wish I could sleep."
I wanted to drift away... to escape into dreams and forget everything.
But I wasn’t lucky enough for that.
Because only seconds later... the darkness gave way.
And the light returned.
---
I opened my eyes again...
To a familiar scene.
The ruined battlefield.
The taste of blood — both sweet and bitter — still fresh in my mouth.
My body was in shambles, as usual.
But my opponent was nowhere to be seen.
In fact... the battlefield itself felt long abandoned.
"Is it over?"
Where was Mergo? How much time had passed?
What happened to my friends?
A storm of questions flooded my mind, one after another.
Despite the injuries, I felt something strange .. my body could still push far beyond its limits.
It was as if my strength hadn’t faded at all.
And then... as I stumbled in confusion...
I felt it.
That cold touch against my face.
I lifted my hand instinctively... reaching for it...
That cold, black metal.
Behind me, lay a thousand corpses.
At my feet, a sea of blood stretched endlessly.
And there I stood .. unaware that I had been wearing that mask the entire time.
Silently, I removed it from my face.
And there it was... the Nameless Mask.
I didn’t feel pain like last time.
No.
My mind was strangely calm.
And yet, all I could do... was stare at the mask with a blank expression.
The bitterness in my mouth grew heavier and heavier.
And I didn’t even know... what I had done.
That’s when the question left my lips..
"Who am I?"
Who... am I?
Then suddenly...
A voice called out to me. One I knew well.
"Frey!!"
From a distance ... limping, bloodied, barely standing...
It was Ghost.