A century ago, every nation on the continent had only one policy toward Netherized Beings: kill them.

Even humans who had merely contacted Netherized Beings were executed.

But after the Continental Armistice, human society advanced rapidly. Minds shifted. Attempts to cure Netherized humans began.

Radical human rights activists declared killing Netherized humans a desecration of humanity itself. "They are people! Lives deserving state protection until their natural death," they argued—*provided they posed no threat to humans*.

Yet Netherized Beings existed only to slaughter. How could they not threaten humanity?

Verlith found such rhetoric laughable. Armchair theorists. People who’d never witnessed true bloodshed. Who didn’t grasp the agony of Netherization or the brutality of the kill.

Every Netherized Being she’d encountered was vicious. She’d once watched a comrade hesitate to slay a Netherized child—only to have his throat slit by that very child’s claws. A lesson written in blood.

Modern nations now pursued treatments for "Half-Netherized" humans—those not fully transformed. Policies shifted yearly, but one rule never changed: *Netherization exceeding sixty percent meant execution. No exceptions.*

The Northern Coalition’s Northfront was the continent’s largest battlefield against Netherborn Elves. There, humanity clashed with Netherization’s frontline. The Coalition’s Netherization Countermeasures Institute stated unequivocally:

—At thirty percent Netherization, biological traits warp. Flesh and bone twist into deformities.

—At forty percent, life energy ignites, converting to Nether Gas. The body gains immense power—scaling with infection—but lifespan plummets toward death.

—At sixty percent? Beyond cure.

In short: if Lal’s infection stayed below sixty percent, he might be saved.

Modern medicine had developed antibody serums against Netherization. If someone wasted such rare medicine on a nobody like Lal, he could return to normal life.

Of course, that was impossible.

No benefactor existed. And Lal had long passed the treatable stage.

"Ninety percent full-body Netherization…" Verlith’s voice turned grave. At this state, he’d barely survive a day. No cure could be found in that time.

Like most Netherized Beings, Lal would die soon regardless. His wounds had accelerated the infection to terrifying speed.

He was beyond saving.

"You came to me for a mercy kill," Verlith stated flatly. No cruelty in it. If Lal retained any awareness, he wouldn’t want to live as a monster.

She’d done this countless times on the Northfront. Once, for her own commander. She still remembered the gratitude in his eyes as she ended him.

"Understand this: your remaining hours could unleash catastrophe. If you infect others, and they infect more… the chain would be horrific. I spare the world that future."

Unlike Tree Spirits—energy entities turned malignant by Netherization—most Netherized Beings were once living humans.

Verlith had once pitied them. Tried to save them. Failed, every time. Battle-hardened now, she knew full Netherization equaled death. Irreversible.

She’d grown strong. No more naive hopes. But she kept the pre-battle ritual. Her voice rose, clear and solemn:

"...Earth to earth..."

"...Ashes to ashes..."

"...Dust to dust..."

She only knew these lines from scripture—a funeral rite her sister Cleia, a mythology scholar, had taught her. A prayer for peace beyond worldly pain.

On Igdrasil Continent, all faiths ultimately bowed to the Creator: the Tree God. The Tree God Sect had long ingrained the belief that mythology itself was the Tree God’s gift to humanity. What deity could outrank the Creator? None.

The Sect absorbed all doctrines. It championed good, crushed evil. Mythology shaped the continent’s civilization—not just literature, but thought itself. Thus, the Tree God Sect became the guardian faith of nations.

"...Grant the departed rest..."

"...Grant the living release..."

Her voice echoed like omnipresent chimes beneath the sky.

Verlith’s eyes hardened. Ice-cold. Pitiless.

Memories flooded her: the Northfront’s blood-soaked earth where no flowers bloomed. Endless slaughter beneath wind-scoured skies.

How many times had she laughed into the snow after cheating death?

How many comrades had she buried—yesterday’s allies, today’s shattered corpses clutching crumpled last letters?

*That* was the Northfront. The war against Netherborn Elves.

"May you struggle little. Amen."

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

Lindwan’s sword gleamed in her grip, its pure white blade catching the light.

"*SKREEE—URRRGH!*"

Lal, long devoid of self, beat his chest and howled at the sky. Mist gathered in his milky eyes—then evaporated into violet-black vapor.

Verlith inhaled deeply. Her full chest swelled slightly.

Then she unleashed her wings.

No witnesses. No need to hide her inhuman form. Or her power.

Snow-pale, crystalline wings snapped open behind her.

The last trace of pity vanished.

She surged upward.

Wind shrieked as her wings beat. Leaves tore from branches. The air itself seemed to groan.

Verlith shot skyward like a cannonball, trailing a sonic shriek!

"*ROAR!*"

Lal’s bellow cut off mid-cry. Verlith had vanished.

She cleared the treetops in an instant—then pivoted sharply, diving straight at him!

Kinetic force focused into her blade’s edge. She struck downward with killing intent!

Lal never saw it coming. The sky’s fury slammed into him.

*Thwump.*

The impact sound was disturbingly soft.

Verlith frowned slightly. She fluttered back, hovering mid-air.

Her sword had sunk into cotton. All force absorbed.

Now she saw it: a thick membrane of black sludge coated Lal’s body. Her crushing strike had sunk into it like mud. Harmless.

After a moment’s study, Verlith nodded.

"So. You couldn’t even wield a Command Token before Netherization. Now you channel Nature Energy without one…" Her voice turned grim. "The Netherborn Elf has fully claimed you."

Years fighting Netherization taught her their patterns.

Ordinary Netherized humans were manageable. True terror came from Netherized Elven Sorcerers.

Two outcomes existed for them:

First—bodily Netherization.

The contracted Tree Spirit within still resisted the corruption. The sorcerer retained some self-awareness. Mild Netherization. Curable, if caught early.

Second—Lal’s state.

When the Tree Spirit itself was Netherized, the human body had no defense. The sorcerer surrendered control, consumed by the Netherborn Elf’s bloodlust. A true Nether Sorcerer.

Deadlier still:

—Normal sorcerers were bound by Command Tokens, barred from devastating forbidden arts. Nether Sorcerers faced no such limits. They wielded Nature Energy freely.

Netherborn Elves were strong but mindless. Only by possessing humans did they gain intellect—the "wisdom" to strategize. A *wise* Netherborn Elf could master power beyond any human sorcerer.

"This foe is stronger than I thought."

To purge the Netherborn Elf fused within a Nether Sorcerer, only one method existed: kill the host. Destroy the vessel. Only then could the parasite be eradicated…