Epilogue
Guts stood amidst the smoldering ruins of Falconia, his battered armor reflecting the red glow of destruction around him. His sword, Dragonslayer, dripped with the blood of apostles and men alike. The impossible had happened: the Godhand was no more. Griffith, once the Hawk of Light, now lay defeated, returned to his mortal form in death. Guts stared at the lifeless body, his expression a mixture of victory and emptiness. Yet even with Griffith dead, the sense of closure he sought eluded him.
A voice pierced the silence, deep and mocking, echoing in the vast emptiness of the destroyed city.
"Do you think you've won, Guts?" The entity that had orchestrated so much suffering—the Idea of Evil—manifested before him in the twisted sky above. Its form was amorphous, shifting between shadows and whispers. "You have surpassed the Godhand, but in doing so, you've become a greater monster than they ever were."
Guts clenched his fists, seething with rage. "Shut up! I didn't ask for this. All of it… was to kill him!" His eyes darted to Griffith's corpse. "To end it all."
The Idea of Evil chuckled. "And yet, you've slaughtered million of innocents. Men, women, children. Apostles were only part of the bloodshed. You've brought kingdoms to ruin."
"I don't care," Guts growled, his rage building. He pointed Dragonslayer at the entity. "I'll finish you too."
Without another word, Guts charged, lightning crackling in his wake, his speed inhuman. But as he closed the distance, the world around him distorted, folding into itself. In a flash, the burning ruins of Falconia vanished.
...
Guts woke up in the middle of a dense forest, disoriented but alert. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed a giant rodent gnawing at his boot. Without hesitation, he grabbed his massive sword and swung it with lightning speed, aiming just to the side of the creature. The force of his strike was so immense that it split the air and caused the ground to crack beneath the rodent, sending it scurrying in terror.
"Go-Gozaru! He was scaryyyy!" squeaked the giant rodent as it fled with its tail between its legs. It was a bizarre sight—Guts had never heard a rat talk like that, let alone one that was larger than a horse. He instinctively touched the mark on his neck, but it didn't react, which meant the creature wasn't an Apostle. Deciding it wasn't worth pursuing the giant rodent, Guts turned and continued walking, determined to leave the forest behind.
He stumbled forward, finding himself in an unfamiliar landscape. The sky was gray, and the air thick with the smell of burning wood and blood. In the distance, he saw smoke billowing from a small village. Screams echoed through the valley.
Guts' eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the chaos.
As he approached, he saw knights clad in black and silver armor slaughtering villagers, their swords stained with fresh blood. Women screamed as they were dragged from their homes, while men were cut down trying to protect them. The knights moved with ruthless efficiency, their captain barking orders.
"Leave none alive! This village must burn!"
Guts' grip tightened on Dragonslayer. He launched himself into the fray, swinging the massive sword with terrifying precision. The first knight didn't even see it coming; his body was cleaved in two. The others turned in shock, but by then it was too late. Guts was a whirlwind of death, his sword cutting through metal and flesh like paper.
The captain of the knights backed away, eyes wide with fear as he watched his men fall to this one-man army. "What… what are you?!"
Guts turned his glare on the captain, his eyes filled with fury. "Your executioner."
With a single swing, he knocked the captain off his feet, sending him crashing into the ground. The captain groaned in pain, dropping his sword.
"Please… mercy! I was only following orders!" The captain scrambled to his knees, hands raised in a futile attempt to placate Guts. "I'm just a soldier! I didn't want this! The Slane Theocracy—they commanded us! They told us to stir conflict between the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire. We were ordered to burn this village, make it look like the Empire's doing! It wasn't my choice!"
Guts grabbed the captain by the collar, lifting him off the ground with ease. His voice was cold. "i dont care."
The captain trembled. "I—I had no choice! The Theocracy—if I disobeyed, my family would be killed! Please, have mercy!"
For a moment, Guts stared into the man's eyes, seeing the terror there. He thought of Casca, of the life they might have had if it weren't for the Godhand's cruelty. But this man—this knight—had chosen his path, just as the apostles had chosen theirs.
"Mercy is for the weak," Guts said, his voice devoid of emotion.
With a swift motion, he slammed the captain into the ground, the force breaking bones. The knight gasped, his body limp.
The village was silent now, save for the crackling of flames. Guts looked around at the destruction, the charred remains of homes and the lifeless bodies of villagers. His heart, so hardened by years of battle and loss, felt a pang of something he hadn't felt in a long time—guilt. Was the Idea of Evil right? Was he no better than the monsters he had slain?
Before he could dwell on it, a soft voice broke through the quiet. "Thank you… thank you for saving us."
Guts turned to see a group of survivors, huddled together near the remains of a burning house. Among them were children, clutching at the legs of what few adults remained. One of the men, an elder, stepped forward, bowing his head in gratitude.
"You've saved the Village, sir. If not for you, we'd all be dead."
Guts said nothing, only staring at the ruined village. He had no idea where he was, who these people were, or what kind of world he had been thrown into. But for now, he had stopped the slaughter.
The elder continued, sensing Guts' silence. "This is the frontier, between Re-Estize and the Baharuth Empire. Those knights—they meant to start a war. But thanks to you, we still live."
Guts sheathed Dragonslayer, turning away from the elder. "I didn't do it for you. I was just passing through."
As he began to walk away, the elder called out once more. "Please… what is your name, sir?"
Guts paused briefly, his back still to the man. "Guts," he muttered.
The elder hesitated before speaking again. "What is this village's name?" Guts asked, his tone sharp. "And where do I go to find the nearest city?"
"This is Carne Village, sir," the elder replied nervously. "If you wish to reach the nearest city, you need to head west. It's called the City of E-Rantel. Since you helped us and seem unfamiliar with this land, I'd like to give you something—a map of the kingdom."
The old man handed Guts a rolled parchment. Taking it, Guts scanned the map, his eyes narrowing. None of the names or landmarks were familiar to him.
"Thanks," he said curtly, slipping the parchment into his belongings.
"Before you go," the elder said hesitantly, "would you like to stay here for a while? Rest, maybe?"
"No," Guts replied flatly and continued walking, disappearing into the another word, he disappeared into the smoke, leaving the villagers of Carne to their fate, his mind once again plagued by the endless cycle of violence that had become his existence. But now, in this new world, he would have to figure out how to survive—and how to find a way back to finish what he had started.
...
In the western side of the village an army camp was made to monitoring the village activity. In this camp reside the sunlight scripture one of the best theocracy enforcer group that have a task to ensure the nation plan would going smoothly in the kingdom.
Nigun was pacing in his tent, seething with fury. The knights he had sent to Carne Village, all veteran soldiers of the Slane Theocracy he gather, were dead. His carefully laid plan was in shambles. The village had been a key piece to his strategy, meant to draw out Gazef Stronoff, the Re-Estize Kingdom's strongest warrior. By burning villages and spreading terror, Gazef was sure to come. But now, all that had gone wrong.
"Who could have done this?" Nigun muttered to himself, gripping the hilt of his staff tightly. "Who dares interfere with the Sunlight Scripture?"
As captain of the Sunlight Scripture, an elite group of magic casters from the Slane Theocracy, Nigun was tasked with eliminating Gazef and weakening Re-Estize's hold over the borderlands. But now, reports of a single man, a swordsman in black armor, cutting down his knights reached him, and it left him filled with a mix of fear and rage.
Before he could ponder further, a sudden presence approached the camp. Nigun stepped outside, his gaze hardening as he saw the lone figure standing at the edge of the camp. The man was tall, cloaked in shadow, his black armor and massive sword gleaming ominously in the moonlight.
The wind howled as Guts stood silently, staring down the group of magic casters who had gathered around Nigun. His hand rested casually on the hilt of Dragonslayer, but his eyes were cold and focused.
"You… you're the one who killed my knights, aren't you?" Nigun sneered, stepping forward. His subordinates gathered behind him, all of them ready to unleash powerful magic at his command. "You've interfered with the will of the Slane Theocracy. And for that, you will die."
The man said nothing, his expression unreadable beneath his helmet that look like a wolf or dog.
"Kill him!" Nigun roared, pointing his staff at the black swordman.
Immediately, the Sunlight Scripture unleashed a barrage of powerful spells. Fireballs, lightning bolts, and blasts of holy energy surged through the air, all converging on the lone swordsman. But in a single fluid motion, the man drew his massive blade, the biggest blade they ever seen , and swung it with such force that the very air split apart.
With one devastating slash, Guts repelled the entire wave of magic, the sheer force of his attack creating a shockwave that knocked many of the magic casters off their feet.
"What?!" Nigun's eyes widened in disbelief as he watched Guts stand unscathed, his blade still held at the ready. "Impossible!"
The remaining Sunlight Scripture members hesitated, fear creeping into their eyes. They had never faced someone who could so effortlessly repel their magic.
In desperation, Nigun raised a crystall, summoning artifact bestowed upon him by the Theocracy. A blinding light filled the air as he called forth the most powerful weapon at his disposal—a celestial being known as Dominion Authority, a holy angel said to wield power rivaling that of the legendary Devil King.
The angel appeared, towering over the camp, its radiant wings stretching wide as it brandished a massive sword of light. The magic casters around Nigun gasped in awe, their fear turning to hope as the divine being descended from the heavens.
Nigun sneered, his confidence returning. "You see, you fool? This is the power of the Slane Theocracy! A Dominion Authority, a being of divine judgment. No mere mortal can stand against it!"
But the man remained unmoved, his eyes narrowing as he watched the angel prepare to strike.
In a blur of motion, the man charged forward, his speed far beyond what any human should be capable of. The angel raised its sword of light, ready to cleave him in two, but before it could bring the blade down, the man swung his giant blade with all his might.
The impact was cataclysmic.
The sword cleaved through the angel's sword, through its radiant body, and through the very fabric of reality itself. The sky seemed to ripple, the world bending under the force of Guts' strike. The Dominion Authority, a being of immense power, shattered like glass, its divine form dispersing into nothingness.
Nigun fell to his knees, his face pale with terror as he watched the impossible happen. "No… no… that can't be… That was an angel! A deity!"
The black swordman approached slowly, his massive sword dragging on the ground, sparking as it scraped against the stones.
Nigun's hands trembled as he tried to raise his staff. "Stay back! Stay away from me!"
But Guts ignored his pleas. With a single, brutal motion, he swung Dragonslayer down, smashing Nigun's staff to pieces and sending the captain of the Sunlight Scripture sprawling to the ground.
"Please… spare me…" Nigun begged, crawling backward. "I-I was only following orders! My nation… they'll come for you if you kill me!"
The men looked down at him, his expression cold and merciless. "Then they can try."
Without another word, this black swordman brought his sword down, silencing Nigun forever. After that he loot the camp and corpse to search valuable information for him, and he found a reading glass. When he arrive in this world, he doesnt recognize a single word from this region map but when he use this reading glass, it was all make sense now. From the corpse man name nigun, guts found a crystal that the man used to summon angel and letter of operation. He read the letter and gaining little bit information about this world that the theocracy worship 6 gods.
As the camp burned behind him, guts sheathed Dragonslayer and walked into the night. The slaughter of Falconia, the Godhand, and now the destruction of this holy army—none of it brought him peace. But he continued to walk the path of blood and steel, knowing only one thing: as long as evil existed, he would fight it, no matter where he found himself.
In this strange new world, there were new problem await him.
As the cold night wind swept across the now-desolate camp, Guts moved forward, the sound of his heavy boots echoing against the silence. The stars above seemed dim, overshadowed by the residual power of his swing that had shattered the Dominion Authority. He didn't stop to think, didn't pause to reflect on the sheer impossibility of what had just happened. This world, this strange place he found himself in, was already full of mysteries—and more enemies to slay.
He had no time for mercy, no patience for pleas. He had slain apostles, felled entire armies, and now stood against divine beings like the one he had just destroyed. It was all the same to him. As long as his sword remained sharp and his body moved, he would keep fighting.
As he continued his march through the thick forests of the frontier, he caught the sound of hooves in the distance. More knights? Or maybe soldiers from Lunatic nation he just killed or this land kingdom whom people of the village talked. He had no idea, but if they were coming for him, they would meet the same fate as the others.
The sound grew louder, and soon, a group of mounted soldiers emerged from the tree line. These were no knights of the Slane Theocracy, though. Their armor was battered, their banners bearing the symbol that he see in the village—Re-Estize soldiers, no doubt. At the head of the group was a tall man clad in rugged armor, his eyes sharp and determined. His scared face and the great sword strapped to his side spoke of his strength in battle.
The man pulled his horse to a stop as his men surrounded Guts, weapons drawn, though their movements were cautious. They had seen the destruction left in Guts' wake—the dead imperial knight, the obliterated camp, the bodies of magic casters strewn across the battlefield.
Guts glanced at them, his grip on Dragonslayer tightening slightly. These men weren't like the others—there was no immediate malice in their eyes, only wariness. He sized them up quickly: trained soldiers, but not monsters.
"Hold!" the captain raised a hand to halt his men, his voice commanding but calm. His sharp gaze fixed on Guts, assessing the lone warrior. "You there. Did you do this?"
Guts met his gaze, his voice low and cold. "What if I did?"
The captain dismounted from his horse, stepping forward without fear. The aura around him was unmistakable—this was a man who had faced countless battles and lived to tell the tale. "I'm not your enemy," the man said, keeping his hand away from his sword. "These were soldiers of the Slane Theocracy, not men of the kingdom. If you killed them, I'm not about to seek retribution."
Guts eyed him warily, but there was something about this man—his words, his demeanor—that made him pause. This wasn't some noble playing soldier or a corrupt knight exploiting the weak. This man was a fighter, someone who had earned his place through blood and battle.
"They were burning villages, and gettingvin my way" Guts said simply. "They got what they deserved."
The man nodded. "I figured as much. There is a rumor that the empire was raided countlest village for this month, but after seeing the corps of scripture i knew the trusth. I was sent here to put an end to it… but it seems you already handled that."
"Forgive my insolent, i forgot to inrroduce myself. My name is Gazef stronnof Captain of Re-estize Kingdom royal army, and who might you be warior ?"
"Guts."
The soldiers behind Gazef exchanged glances, uncertain of what to make of the situation. Here was a lone man who had single-handedly wiped out an elite squad of magic casters, including one of the strongest captains in the Slane Theocracy. Gazef, however, seemed unfazed.
"Who are you?" Gazef asked, his tone less confrontational, more curious. "You don't seem like a mercenary, but you're no ordinary warrior either."
Guts shifted his sword to rest on his shoulder, its weight as natural to him as breathing. "I'm just passing through."
Gazef raised an eyebrow. "Passing through? With power like that? I've never seen anyone cut through magic like you just did, let alone destroy a giant angel that the theocracy summon."
Guts shrugged. "I've killed worse."
The silence that followed was thick with tension, but Gazef was no fool. He knew when to pick his battles—and this was not one he could win.
"I don't know where you came from, but I owe you thanks," Gazef said. "If you hadn't stopped them, more innocent lives would've been lost."
Guts didn't respond, only grunted in acknowledgment. He wasn't here for thanks, nor did he care for it. He only wanted to keep moving forward, find his next fight, and maybe—just maybe—find some kind of end to the endless cycle of violence he'd been trapped in for so long.
Gazef seemed to sense Guts' desire to leave, but he stepped forward, offering a hand. ". If you ever need a place to rest or allies in this land, you can come to me and my king would reward yours deed greatly."
Guts glanced at the hand but didn't take it. "I don't need allies."
Gazef smiled faintly. "Perhaps not. But the world is bigger than any one man. Remember that."
Without another word, Guts turned and began walking away, disappearing into the dense forest as Gazef watched him go. The soldiers murmured among themselves, but Gazef silenced them with a glance.
As the black swordsman vanished into the distance, Gazef couldn't shake the feeling that this man, whoever he was, was more than just a wandering warrior. He was a force of nature, something beyond the comprehension of mortal men.
"Captain, should we follow him?" one of the soldiers asked hesitantly.
"No," Gazef replied, still watching the spot where Guts had disappeared. "Let him go. If fate wills it, we'll cross paths again."