LIGHTNOVELWORLD Chapter 24: Turning point
Status Panel
Name: Unknown
Class: Swordsman → Berserker
Level: 60
HP: 200/2950
MP: 5/120
Attributes:
Strength: 65
Agility: 78
Endurance: 65
Skills:
Fighting Tendency (Passive)Accel+Limit BreakMagic Vision
Unique Ability:
Madness Mutation→ Madness Mutation + (Passive/Active)Further increase stat in Berserk state by 100%
Skill Points: 30
Sword Arts:
Quick Slash
Sweeping Slash
Aura
Triple slash
Double slash
Stinger
…
"…Is it over?" The question hung in the air like a whisper, but there was no one to answer it.
Unknown stood amidst a mountain of lifeless bodies, the stench of blood and death permeating the air. The battlefield had been reduced to a hellish scene, a testament to the chaos and destruction he had wrought.
He looked around, his gaze empty, devoid of any emotion as it swept over the carnage. Goblin corpses were scattered in every direction, some split in half, others crushed beyond recognition. The ground was slick with blood, and the rubble of the once-defiant fortress lay in ruins.
"Did I do this?" Unknown asked himself, the words barely more than a murmur. There was no trace of satisfaction or triumph in his voice—just a hollow emptiness. He had slaughtered them all, and yet, as he stood amidst the devastation, he felt nothing.
"…?" The voice came from behind him, but there was no one there. It was his own reflection, his own thoughts echoing back at him.
"Yeah, that's right, I did it," he replied, as if trying to convince himself. But deep down, he knew the truth.
'It doesn't even feel satisfying.'
The thought weighed heavily on him. What had he hoped for when he set out on this path? Revenge? Power? Satisfaction? None of it had come.
The anger that had once burned within him had long since dulled into an empty void. He had killed them all, and yet it felt like nothing more than a pointless, hollow act.
He stared at his hands, slick with blood, and felt an overwhelming sense of detachment. The thrill of the hunt, the rush of battle—it was all gone. The emptiness gnawed at him, suffocating any trace of the emotions that once drove him.
"Whatever," he muttered, pushing the discomfort aside. He had no time for introspection now. There was something else to do. Something that had to be done.
"Let's check if there are any key fragments here," Unknown said, his tone flat, devoid of any enthusiasm.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out the key he had been carrying for what felt like an eternity. Its cold, metallic surface gleamed faintly in the dim light, and he had learned over time that it reacted to certain magical energies—fragments of some larger whole.
The key would glow if any such fragments were near, and he had long suspected that he would find the final piece here.
At first, there was nothing. The key remained dull and lifeless in his hand. But then, as the flow of magic in the area settled, the key began to pulse faintly.
"So this isn't a trap?" Unknown muttered to himself, feeling a flicker of curiosity stir within him for the first time in what felt like ages.
He followed the key's guidance, walking toward the mangled corpse of the Hobgoblin he had cleaved in two. His eyes scanned the remains, searching for any clue that might lead him to the final piece.
And there it was. A glimmer of something nestled within the ruined body—the necklace of the Goblin chief. The key fragment.
He pulled it free with a practiced hand, holding it up to the light. The moment he touched it, the key in his hand seemed to hum with energy, as if it had recognized the fragment. The entire piece clicked together, now complete.
The key was whole.
For a brief moment, Unknown felt something stir deep within him—a sense of completion, but it was fleeting.
Only one thing remained now.
"The unsealing step," he whispered to himself. He had no idea what lay beyond that final threshold, but he knew where it had to be done.
"It's where I woke up," he said quietly, as if speaking to the wind. "It's there."
'But should I tell them, or keep this to myself?' Unknown's thoughts swirled in a haze as he weighed the decision.
Should he share what he had learned, the purpose behind the key, the final destination?
Or should he simply continue on his own, in silence, without the burden of trusting anyone else? His mind wavered between uncertainty and resolve, but before he could settle on a decision, the answer came to him in the most brutal form possible.
A sharp pain lanced through his side, the jagged steel of a spear piercing his unprotected flesh.
He gasped, his vision swimming as the pain exploded through his body. The world around him blurred in an instant, and he collapsed to the ground.
He had been so focused on the key, on the goal ahead, that he hadn't noticed the danger until it was too late. His body was also exhausted from the fight, he couldn't see it was coming.
"…What... What are you doing?" Unknown's voice was a whisper, laced with disbelief. He turned his head, his eyes locking with the figure who had delivered the fatal blow.
It was Steel's group.
The very people he had fought alongside, the ones he had trusted to some extent, now stood before him with expressions that were a chaotic mix of emotions. Some looked at him with regret in their eyes, others with anger, and a few seemed fearful. But one among them showed no emotion at all, his face as blank and cold as the blade he wielded.
"I'm sorry, but I cannot allow a monster like you to take the sword," Steel said, his voice firm, filled with finality. The words struck Unknown like a hammer, each syllable sinking into him like a weight too heavy to bear. Steel's eyes were resolute, unwavering.
"Goodbye, nameless one," Steel continued, his grip tightening around the spear's shaft. There was no hesitation, no second thoughts. Just the quiet certainty of an executioner.
Unknown's breath hitched as the spear was pushed deeper into the wound. The pain intensified, unbearable, but it was nothing compared to the hollow ache inside him—the betrayal. The piercing scream that tore from his throat was not his own voice anymore. It was the voice of every creature he had slain, every being he had crushed in his path. It was a sound of agony, of lives extinguished. And now, it was his turn.
His body convulsed in pain, his hands weakly clutching at the earth beneath him, but it was all for nothing. The world around him dimmed, the sounds of Steel's voice and the others fading into the background as everything became distant. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, each one harder to take, until at last, his struggle ceased.
With a final, shuddering breath, Unknown's body went still. His heart, once so full of rage and unyielding resolve, finally stopped beating. The pain, the betrayal, the emptiness—all of it faded into a suffocating silence.
And there, amidst the cold and the blood, Unknown lay still, his once relentless spirit now extinguished.
It was…over.