"Boom—"
A deafening explosion echoed across the sky. The twin-blade wight, having sacrificed two of its own kind in the ritual, was struck by Marco's immense shockwave and hurled hard into the snow. Yet it quickly climbed back to its feet.
Wielding its twin swords, the wight lunged toward Marco, while the others around it raised their weapons and charged as well—but before they could reach him, Maeve and Dany descended from the heavens, intercepting them mid-charge.
At Marco's command, the griffin Siwang took flight to reinforce the battle at the city gate. That fight was nearly over, and once Siwang's squad joined, they could summon reinforcements back.
Maeve's Sword of Judgment swung in broad, powerful arcs, forcing the wights to stagger backward again and again. With her angelic wings allowing her to fly freely, the creatures couldn't even graze her—every blow she struck was radiant, every counterattack meaningless.
Meanwhile, Dany, cloaked in invisibility, moved like an assassin of the night—launching relentless, lethal strikes from the shadows. Her Hydra Whip pulsed with dense dark energy; every lash weakened the wights' power, draining their strength little by little.
But these wights were far stronger than any they'd faced before. Their strength, speed, and technique were formidable. Realizing the difference in power, they began to fight cooperatively.
Their coordination was flawless—and somehow, through some secret art, they could even sense Dany's presence. Her invisibility weakened sharply, limiting her ability to inflict sustained damage. Before long, even with the might of two Level-7 beings, Maeve and Dany began to feel themselves being pushed back.
On Marco's side, the fight had devolved into a brutal one-on-one. The twin-sword wight had adapted to Marco's attacks and shifted into a defensive rhythm, clearly intending to wear him down—waiting for the perfect chance to strike a killing blow.
Marco ignored the tactic, swinging Flame-Tongue of the Fire Dragon in relentless succession. Empowered by holy light, he felt an inexhaustible strength coursing through him.
The wight's swordsmanship, however, was exceptional. Every one of Marco's strikes was deftly deflected or turned aside. Over time, the creature began to notice something off about Marco—an unnatural endurance, a strength that did not fade.
Unable to injure him, the wight grew anxious. After another brief exchange, it feinted with its left blade, driving Marco back, then stabbed its right sword deep into the ground. Instantly, jagged ice spikes erupted upward in a dense barrage.
Marco twisted and dodged, darting left and right through the storm of ice, barely keeping pace. He looked almost desperate—but in the chaos, he secretly tossed out two obsidian stones. Marco's habit: he always saved two for emergencies.
Twin bolts of lightning split the air, striking the wight dead-on. The barrage of ice halted mid-attack.
Marco seized the moment, invoking dark magic. A spell circle enveloped the wight, halting its movements—but before Marco could strike, a ghostly blue aura flared from its body, dispelling the debuff in an instant.
Then golden light flashed in Marco's palm. A massive sword of radiant energy descended from the sky, aimed straight at the twin-blade wight.
"Holy Retribution!"
It was a Level-5 spell of the light element—one Marco had never used before. In the game, it was a single-target spell, usable only if an enemy had slain one of his own soldiers. Marco had only wanted to test it, never expecting it to actually succeed here.
The energy sword passed through the wight's blades as if they weren't even real. Blinding light erupted—the holy power struck the wight squarely. In reflex, it flinched; its right arm exploded under the clash of opposing energies, severed clean off.
Crack—
A harsh, ice-grating sound came from its throat—a wretched, rasping howl of pain. Marco realized it was screaming. Its glowing blue eyes fixed on him, burning with murderous hatred, as if it meant to devour him alive.
Then another strange, distorted sound emerged from its mouth. The bizarre tone wormed into Marco's mind, clouding his thoughts. For a moment, he nearly lost himself to it—until he bit his tongue sharply, forcing his mind back to clarity.
Just as he prepared to unleash Holy Retribution again, the wight's severed right hand—and even its remaining left arm—suddenly dissolved into a swirl of blue mist.
That spectral energy coalesced, then shot straight toward Marco, enveloping him before he could move.
Ding!Alert: Host is under a curse effect. Immediate purification is recommended.
Marco's body froze as if encased in solid ice. Countless crystalline frost motes spread over his skin. The blue mist seeped through his pores, invading his blood and veins.
It devoured his mana like a living parasite, growing stronger with every heartbeat. The invasion was so rapid it caught Marco completely off guard.
Soon, he could barely feel his limbs. Alarmed, he cast Magic Purification upon himself—but it only slowed the effect. The corruption continued to spread.
Seeing this, the armless wight barked orders to the others. A massive ice spider crawled from beneath the snow, hoisting the wight onto its back and carrying it away.
As it retreated, the wight unleashed another wave of that eerie curse. The mist coiled once more around Marco, who was still struggling to purify himself.
Within moments, he felt his inner power surging out of control. When he cast Magic Purification again, he realized his right arm had gone completely numb. Flame-Tongue slipped from his grasp, falling into the snow. The surrounding wights immediately swarmed in.
Maeve and Dany, seeing what was happening, quickly fought their way to him. Marco, feeling the corruption deepening, clenched his teeth and cast Magic Immunity on himself.
The spell dispelled all beneficial effects—but it also weakened the curse's hold. Still, the erosion did not stop.
Fortunately, Marco's right arm began to regain a faint sense of touch. Some of the frost crystals were purified by the light magic, though others pierced through his skin, lodging themselves along its surface.
His entire right side became a grotesque blend of flesh and crystal. Blood seeped through the fissures in his skin, pain tearing through him like a thousand blades.
Seeing his agony, both women went berserk. Maeve's Sword of Judgment flared with holy light, cleaving three wights' heads in a single swing. Dany's Hydra Whip shattered another to pieces.
The remaining wights, realizing they were overmatched, began to retreat—summoning more ice spiders and ghouls from underground to cover their escape. But these lesser creatures were meaningless before the two women's fury. Before long, with two other archangels leading reinforcements, the tide of battle turned entirely.
From afar, Moonshadow spotted Marco's condition. She spurred her shadow lynx forward, rushing to him. Cradling him in her arms, she cast Magic Purification twice in succession. The spell didn't work on Marco's body—but it did cleanse some of the frost covering his skin.
By the time she exhausted all her mana, the crystals had barely diminished—but Marco's pain had eased somewhat.
His right side was a map of wounds, the agony so intense he could hardly focus to cast spells. Thankfully, Magic Immunity held, suppressing the invasion even if it stripped away his buffs.
Seeing the three women gather around him, Marco managed a weak smile."I'm all right. Looks like… it's time to try that method. Moonshadow—bring me the sword."
"Darling, no!" Dany gripped his arm. "Maeve's resurrection spell isn't guaranteed to work! Maybe we should—"
Her words cut off with a gasp—the crystals had pricked her palm, drawing blood. Maeve and Moonshadow looked on, their eyes filled with anguish.
Marco forced a pained smile. "We're out of options. Once this spell's effect fades, the corruption will worsen. We have to try."
He steadied himself, planting his feet on Flame-Tongue's hilt, grasped the blade's tip with his left hand, and drove it into his own chest. The burning agony tore a scream from his throat.
Maeve caught him as he fell, instantly casting Resurrection. A surge of golden light enveloped him. When it faded, Marco gasped back to life. Conscious again, he immediately cast Magic Purification and Magic Immunity once more.
The frost energy dispersed further—but with each spell, the crystalline energy within him began to mutate.
By the third resurrection, most of the corruption had lost its original aggression. Yet through Mana Perception, Marco could still sense a lingering chill within the crystals embedded in his skin.
His light energy had forced the corruption outward—now, his flesh pulsed with holy light while his skin glimmered with altered, harmless crystal. On his surface, these crystals contained the last traces of virulent energy—sealed, contained, waiting for a final eruption.
Both Resurrection and Reincarnation required an intact body. On the third attempt, Marco had even sacrificed his right hand, but it was useless—the limb simply re-formed as golden light when the spell took effect.
As Marco prepared for a fourth attempt, Moonshadow suddenly said,"Marco! Stop. This won't work. I can feel it—the alien god's energy is gathering strength. We should seek guidance from the old gods!"
"She's right!" Maeve urged. "You've lost too much blood already. We need another way!"
Fury flashed in Dany's eyes. She lashed her whip, obliterating a half-dead ghoul nearby."If I'd known, I'd have dragged that armless freak back alive! I'd have made it tell us everything about that cursed magic. Stone or not, I'd have broken it until it confessed!"
Marco mustered a weary smile, pressing gentle kisses to each of their foreheads in turn. Then, leaning on them for support, he mounted the unicorn Silverspark, who bore him back toward Hardhome.
Through the teleportation gate they went. Back in Hardhome, after assigning Bloodhand Blackstone and Hank Kraul their posts, Marco made his way toward the Fountain of Vitality.
When the fountain was first completed, the seven surviving ancient gods had merged their consciousness into it. As Marco and his three companions approached, the Three-Eyed Raven frowned.
"Lord Marco," it said gravely, "you're covered in alien god energy… what happened?"
After a brief explanation from Moonshadow, the raven's third eye flared white—it entered a trance to commune with the old gods.
When it spoke again, its voice had changed—resonant, otherworldly, like the original tongue of creation. The words came slowly, echoing in Marco's mind:
"Alien god… cold… the Wall… magic circle…"
Marco pieced the meaning together, and a realization formed in his heart. The seven were guiding him—to the magic array beneath the Desolation Wall, where he could fully purify himself of the alien energy.
"Lord Marco," the Three-Eyed Raven continued solemnly, "that formation, ever since your power last touched it, has grown stronger. From the age of heroes till now, it has ceaselessly absorbed the alien energy of that region. I believe… it will aid you greatly this time."