A dull longsword and a heartbroken villager

Remember, this is an attack, a punishment.

"BOOM!!!!!!!!!!" Before Bray could unfold the cage of bones, it shattered on its own.

Countless bone fragments further devastated the already barren land of the Underworld.

The mine, which had been locked up, rolled several times after being blown out of its cage, like a roller.

"Clang—" He planted his sword in the ground, preventing it from rolling away due to inertia.

Even so, his injuries were so severe that he almost fell when he tried to stand up.

"Hahaha, what a weak life!"

"Mortals, do you feel the loss of your life force? All things must die, and nothing is immortal."

"..." Just like Dizoca, Bray's life continued to ebb away in the underworld.

Dizoca's attack was not merely destruction, but a rule.

Bray knew that if he didn't grit his teeth and persevere, he would become one of those who would take lives.

Kodizoka's next attack didn't land for a long time; instead, there was a lot of noise.

“Squeak squeak squeak—” His avatar flickered once more, becoming unstable.

However, Dizoca seemed to have anticipated this, and was not surprised.

Although He was somewhat dissatisfied with having to leave the field after only injuring Bray, He was not flustered.

"Looks like the avatar's duration is up," Dizoka said to Bray in a teasing tone.

After struggling to his feet, Bray looked expressionlessly at the high-ranking Dizoka.

"Mortals, are you fortunate?"

"But you don't think it's over just like that, do you?" Dizoka's enormous body, which had enveloped the entire field of vision, slowly dissipated.

"I will not give up an opportunity that is within my grasp."

"Keep fighting, you won't have to wait long—"

"It can start in the next minute."

If Bray is left unattended, the disrupted order of the underworld will be broken.

Having finally cornered the cemetery, He will not easily withdraw from Kapras.

This is His world, and this can only be His world.

"As a true god, I will tell you properly that you inferior beings have no right to possess this world."

"Mortals standing on the side of the graveyard, keep striving and please me."

Dizoka's body kept disappearing in a vortex. Due to the causal interference of Umkandal, He had to leave after appearing for a while.

"Demigods, none of you, are qualified. Only the gods are worthy..."

The voice and shadow of "Lord of the Underworld, Dizoka" vanished into the vortex, leaving only a small skeletal mask.

"Clang." The mask fell limply to the ground, swaying and making a clattering sound.

The sound didn't last long.

Because a person suddenly appeared next to the mask and picked it up.

"Only gods are qualified..." the person who picked up the mask murmured in a magnetic voice. The person who picked up the mask was not wearing a skeletal mask, but was dressed in a long black robe with metal arm and leg armor, and the only weapon was a scythe on his back.

Judging from his attire, he is probably a killer.

However, the fact that he wasn't wearing a mask made him stand out from the other killers.

His face was very handsome, but unfortunately, the side of his face was torn, and this was not an exaggeration, but a real tear.

This one injury ruined his entire face, but he doesn't seem to care.

He held the mask in one hand and looked at Bray with a very indifferent gaze.

Although his eyes were also lifeless, they were not dead; on the contrary, they were filled with hope for some possibility.

"Where are you from?" Bray asked, while trying to draw his sword before the other man could put on his mask.

"I was teleported here by Lord Dizoka," the man said casually, still not wearing a mask.

But even though the other party didn't put on the mask immediately, Bray still couldn't find an opportunity to destroy the mask left behind by Dizoka.

Because the vortex that swallowed Dizoka's avatar has not yet dissipated, and continues to emanate malice and hinder Bray.

Understanding this as well, the man who picked up the mask wasn't in a hurry at all.

“I’ve seen you before, the scavenger who killed the thirty-fifth rider,” the man said.

Bray killed his companion, but strangely, his tone contained no resentment or hatred.

Perhaps for the one seeking revenge, that kind of death is a form of atonement.

"Were you one of the Deathbringers from the safe zone back then?" The only Deathbringers who had seen him and survived were those he encountered during the expedition.

"You can call me Third Rider. That's how we Deathbringers are named." Third Rider examined the mask in his hand and introduced himself.

"Breaklas," Breklas told the other person his name.

The third rider was unusually alert, even quite so, to the point that Bray was somewhat taken aback.

Bray had encountered many killers who hadn't lost their memories before, but the third rider was practically indistinguishable from a normal person—

Aside from the fact that he didn't have the aura of a living person.

"You heard it too, didn't you?"

"Lord Dizoka's intention is for you to die here, and I am merely a tool to carry out his will." The Third Rider's eyes remained unchanged as he declared himself a tool.

While Dizoka's incarnations cannot be maintained for long, that doesn't mean He has no other options.

If He can bestow power upon lower species, then He can only be considered to be interfering with Kapras.

By wearing this mask, the third rider, acting as the proxy, gains power equivalent to that of the avatar.

However, this is very uncontrollable, and generally, golden species will not give their power to low-level species.

Even the third rider knew that Dizoca wouldn't have been so generous unless he was forced to.

He believed in Dizoka, but he was certainly not a devout believer.

He followed Dizoka's instructions more out of his own ideas than out of pure faith.

As for the Third Knight's idea? It's very simple: to use Dizoka's hand to sweep away the demigods.

"Tools..." Bray hesitated after hearing the Third Knight say that about him.

"Yes, He only uses us as tools."

“I knew this very well before He turned me into a ghost, but I know it even better now.”

"You should have heard it too, He said that only the gods are qualified to possess the world."

“To Him, our existence is meaningless.” After saying this, the third rider put the mask on his face.

The skeletal mask seemed to come alive, extending out even more skeletons.

However, these skeletons were unable to take over the Third Rider's body; they only merged with his head.

The third rider at this moment looked just like the previous Deathbringer, but with an even more terrifying aura.

The third rider had the strongest willpower and the most complete memory retention, so he was chosen.

It's that simple; it's not that Dizoka values ​​anyone so much.

He simply hadn't considered that the remaining will on the mask couldn't affect the Third Rider.

“Even though we don’t need this stuff, we still do it. It’s clear that the gods don’t trust us at all.” The third rider’s voice became lower and deeper because of the mask, like the ancient bell of a clock tower.

The third rider was not affected by Dizoca's mindset and maintained his own integrity.

"..." Bray remained silent, enduring the pain as he assumed a fighting stance.

He originally wanted to blurt out a lot of questions to the third rider.

Why would you serve Dizoka knowing this?

Aren't you worried that Dizoca will break his promise?

Is it worth sacrificing oneself for God?

However, Bray ultimately didn't ask any of these questions.

He saw the Third Rider's eyes before he put on his mask—unwavering and without a trace of confusion.

For the third rider, the path he is now on is the right one.

He will only walk this path now, and he will not turn back.

Everything the third rider did was to chase after that barely perceptible light in the lifeless eyes.

“I’m sorry that He used a war of attrition against you.”

"But for someone like me who is already dead, there is no such thing as showing mercy." The third rider drew his scythe from behind him the instant the vortex dissipated.

The moment the vortex that had devoured Dizoka's avatar disappeared, the surrounding wind resumed its normal flow.

Everyone immediately felt much more relaxed, and Bray's pressure was reduced.

"You're welcome," Bray said.

Bray had reason to believe that the Third Knight would kill him with all his might, but he still talked to him a lot more.

The feeling Bray had during the fight with Dizoca was completely different from the battle that was about to unfold.

For some reason, Bray felt an even greater solemnity about the impending battle.

A black streak of light flashed and clashed with Bray's two swords.

The two men retreated immediately upon contact, leaving only the shattered ground behind.

However, the third rider is much faster than Bray, even when Bray unleashes his dragon runes.

Almost instantly after retreating, the dull scythe swept across.

Bray anticipated the direction of the attack and moved aside to avoid it.

But the next second a huge noise suddenly broke out.

"BOOM!!!!!!!!!!" A rock on the Yellow Springs suddenly shattered, a small patch of which was stained red with the blood of the blast.

As the scythe was swung out, its range suddenly increased, forcing Bray to dodge with an even more exaggerated posture.

However, exaggerated dodging postures mean that balance will deteriorate.

The strong wind generated by the sickle easily launched the mine like a cannonball.

Seeing Bray smash the rocks, the third rider didn't hesitate for a second. He immediately raised his left hand and used divine magic to summon countless dead souls to pull Bray toward him.

However, the divine magic failed, and the soul was cut in two, revealing the bleeding wound behind it.

Compared to the incarnation of Dizoca, the Third Knight had a much weaker grasp of concepts and only used simple divine magic.

However, Bray felt that the third rider was even more difficult to deal with...

This was not an arrogant god, but a person simply carrying out their own will. After the third rider put on the mask, no major changes occurred.

The only difference is that he can never take off this mask again.

Calling it a mask is no longer appropriate; the skeleton had gradually covered the Third Rider's head, making it look more like a helmet.

The man was a little annoyed by this; he hated helmets.

Beneath the helmet, the world becomes even more oppressive and despairing.

The third rider was originally an officer in some place, with strength roughly at the level of an A-rank adventurer.

That's all there is to the outstanding talents of the Black Iron race.

That's it.

After witnessing the world's destruction through the narrow perspective of his helmet on that day, the Third Rider disliked the helmet.

She doesn't even like masks.

"bite!!"