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chapter 65
The steel golem’s forearms were almost comparable in size and width to a road large enough for a carriage to pass.
On those massive arms, the Zeronis unit clung and scrambled like swarming ants, showing no sign of slowing down as they began to run.
They knew something crucial. A golem is a simple-minded entity; unless it is certain that it is being harmed, it will not actively attempt to destroy a target. Moreover, at this moment, the golem’s gaze was directed toward the spire in the middle of the city, so it had no intention of actively shaking them off. This was their chance.
Thus, all the Zeronis unit members, hesitant though they were, raised their swords and spears high and leapt toward the back of the golem’s neck.
The golem’s neck, though incredibly thick, was still far thinner than its limbs. Most importantly, there was a particular reason why they aimed for it.
A golem’s direction of movement is determined by the position of its head. If the head is severed or separated, the golem will stop moving until that part is restored.
Yet when the unit members reached the back of its neck, each of them immediately felt their courage waver.
It was like being told to stab through a wall to kill someone—or even a living dragon’s neck wouldn’t feel as hopeless. The golem’s body, composed of hundreds or even thousands of house-sized steel bricks, seemed utterly beyond human strength to affect.
Still, they had to strike.
No matter how hopeless it seemed, they needed to believe that God was watching over them.
Only then could they channel divine power.
The blessings of protection and physical enhancement bestowed by Isabel were transmitted through the crosses they carried.
Holding their crosses in their left hands and weapons in their right, they transferred the massive divine energy into their weapons while maintaining Isabel’s blessings.
Only Lister could materialize divine power and give it mass, but they could at least channel it into their weapons. Even this alone was enough to significantly enhance them.
Like relics imbued with divine power that transcend ordinary tools, they temporarily “sanctified” their weapons with divine energy, granting them greater cutting power, durability, or even shockwave effects—a fundamental combat technique for Zeronis members and holy knights.
The twenty members atop the golem’s neck infused their weapons with Isabel’s divine power and simultaneously drove them into the golem’s nape.
Crack—
The pain in their wrists felt as though bones were shattering, yet the effect was undeniable. The shock traveled through the surface and interior of the golem’s neck, denting or shattering the steel bricks, which then plummeted sixty meters to the ground below.
Success. Yet they broke into cold sweat as the golem’s enormous right hand moved to cover its own nape.
They had done their part. Now it was time for others to do theirs.
But when?
How long would they cling to the golem’s neck, waiting for death? One gentle press of that hand and they would all be crushed. Though under the protection of the blessing, could it shield them from being squashed by weight?
Their fear vanished in an instant.
A spear rose from the ground below.
The bluish mana coating the spear left a shimmering trail as it shot upward, piercing the massive hand’s wrist that was about to crush the Zeronis unit.
Inside the wrist, the bluish mana swirled and triggered a powerful explosion within the golem’s arm.
Ka-boom—
“Down—!”
The first Zeronis member to notice shouted, and they all flattened themselves against the golem’s neck. Shattered fragments and twisted metal sprayed above their heads but bounced harmlessly off the protective barrier of the blessing.
The hero behind this feat was Galtan, whose senses—hearing, sight, and touch—far surpassed normal humans, allowing him to channel the mana of his magical tool to dye the entire spear blue.
His goal was singular:
To launch the spear from the ground and completely destroy the golem’s wrist.
“That… that’s impossible…”
“Even the Zeronis commander couldn’t do something like that…”
After destroying the golem’s arm with a single spear, Galtan muttered hoarsely.
“Seems it hasn’t rusted yet…”
“Seriously, with skills like that, what have you been doing all this time?”
Riz, still carrying Isabel on his shoulders, asked with irritation, and Galtan lowered his head slightly, embarrassed.
Now, the situation they had all been hoping for had come about.
The adventurer guild and city forces damaged one of the golem’s legs, the Zeronis unit slowed it by attacking its nape, and Galtan’s spear shattered one of its arms.
With one arm gone to counter the body’s recoil, the golem began to tilt to one side.
“Isabel, ready?”
“Yes! When I give the signal, throw with all your strength!”
Riz was about to shout that he would, but froze in shock.
“What? Throw you?”
“The angel told me to!”
“That angel is insane!”
“You can’t call an angel ‘that guy’!”
“I don’t care! Throwing you to that golem is pure madness!”
Hearing such unprecedented insults directed at Smiel, Isabel froze. Riz realized that Isabel had willingly thrown herself into danger to help, but could it really end with throwing her at the golem?
Still, Isabel seemed certain, and Riz was left confused.
Perhaps Smiel, the angel, intended to risk Isabel’s life to save more people. How arrogant must that angel be to weigh human lives like that?
Or perhaps she had absolute confidence that Isabel could survive being thrown at the golem.
In that tense moment, Riz pushed all such thoughts aside. Reality loomed close.
Bang—
The sound of Lister leaping from the ground hit Riz’s ears more sharply than any explosion.
At the same time, Isabel shouted for someone to hold her legs tightly.
The plan was in its final stage. The golem had lost an arm and had a damaged leg, already tilting. Now it only required one decisive strike—the angel’s instruction to “make it fall just once.”
Lister, Michael’s agent and heretic exterminator, spread Isabel’s blessing of physical enhancement across his body, achieving full reinforcement.
From his previous leap, he had fallen short of the 60 meters above the ground—but now, he had reached it.
Clutching his warhammer behind him, he fixed his gaze on the golem’s head.
The golem had no eyes, sensing the surroundings through mana waves. Its gaze remained fixed on the spire, allowing Lister to stand before it and prepare to strike its head.
Even with countless monsters and heretics he had fought with Michael’s power, he had never encountered a situation like this.
Fighting an entity capable of destroying the entire city, leaping sixty meters in one bound, and being aided by the naive priest who had made him feel utterly helpless.
He had once knelt and wept, feeling foolish. Now, guided by Isabel, he felt shameless—but he had to act.
Fearing that he might never hold a warhammer again and lose all pride as Michael’s agent, he gripped the handle tightly.
Suppressing all emotions, he focused solely on bringing the golem down.
Then… something unexpected.
For the first time, Lister felt the golem’s attention shift onto him.
“…!”
A sharp, animalistic instinct told him he was correct.
The golem’s massive left hand shot forward, seizing Lister, who was vulnerable while forming a divine hammer.
“No!”
“What… why…!”
Shouts from below never reached him. The golem’s crushing steel grip threw him to the ground.
“The City of Young Magicians,” built by mages who had left Oztina. Wektina.
There was a saying there:
“All magic is reality.”
Outsiders might assume it means “magic works to prove skeptics wrong,” but the true meaning was harsher:
“Magic is reality—it doesn’t bend to your feelings.”
Jane, a mage dispatched to Wektina, seemed to have forgotten this.
Magic is reality. The flow of mana to create spells is as natural as fire being hot or water flowing.
If someone lighting a fire wished it to be cold, would it obey? If someone wanted water to flow upward, would it? Of course not.
Yet inexperienced mages often say that casting magic requires perseverance, confidence, or passion. In truth, magic never bows to a mage’s trivial feelings.
Many forget this, and the consequences are severe.
“No…!”
At the city’s central spire, Jane had to maintain a lure spell alone, originally meant for six mages. Her mana was rapidly depleting.
It was inevitable. She could not sustain a spell meant for six, alone, after repeatedly rotating shifts since morning.
She tried her hardest, using all auxiliary techniques, channeling ambient mana, and drawing from every written memory she had. Still…
All magic is reality.
“No… it can’t…”
Mana depletion is fatal. When a mage’s mana runs out, the body shuts down into deep sleep or unconsciousness.
If the lure spell failed, the terrifying golem would rampage, endangering countless lives. Yet, magic would not yield to Jane’s stubbornness—it was cold, unyielding reality.
Eventually, the lure spell ended.
And the price was paid by all the combatants on the front lines.
