I, the Final Boss of the Beta Server!

Chapter 23: True Name Unleashed

A massive shadow enveloped both Rast and the Iron Cross leader.

No longer able to care about Rast, whose abdomen had been pierced and who had lost all strength to fight back, the Iron Cross leader violently yanked out his blade, trying to flee the area under the shadow that loomed like a collapsing mountain.

Escaping dozens of meters in just a second or two sounded unbelievable, but with the physical enhancements gained from devouring so many mutant species, he might just be able to pull it off.

But then, the Iron Cross leader saw the young man in front of him suddenly raise a revolver and press it against his own temple.

‘What was he trying to do?’

‘Suicide?’

But his revolver was clearly out of bullets—he couldn't even kill himself.

The boy’s face was deathly pale from excessive blood loss, yet at this moment, he still managed a smile.

“Captain Langley, weren’t you curious about what my ability is?”

‘How did he know my name?’

That thought flashed across his mind in an instant as Rast pulled the trigger.

In the brilliance of the lantern's light, the savage desire and madness were suppressed.

The iron cross engraved on the forehead dimmed slightly, and the consciousness of Langley, the Marine Corps captain, briefly resurfaced.

Langley halted in confusion and looked around, recalling everything he had done—

As a Marine Corps captain, he should have protected the country and led his troops, yet for the sake of power, he had devoured his own soldiers one by one.

“What… what have I done?”

The next moment, dozens of tons of falling steel beams swallowed everything.

…

A violent explosion resounded, audible even from half a city away.

Earlier, it had only been a section of the metal bridge that collapsed.

This time, it was dozens of tons of steel beams and fuel tanks falling down.

The sparks from the crashing metal ignited the broken fuel tanks, and scorching air currents along with flying debris swept across the area.

No one knew how long had passed before rain finally extinguished the fire and smoke on the steel wreckage.

Rast lay sprawled atop the metal ruins, his chest barely rising and falling.

At the moment of impact, when the steel beams crashed and the fuel tanks exploded, Langley had shielded him, using his own body to absorb the majority of the damage.

Maybe he did it to atone for his sins.

Or maybe it was the duty ingrained in him as a soldier—to protect civilians.

It was just unclear whether, if Langley had known that Rast had once been wanted with five-star warrants, sniping against the Marine Corps in Deep Blue Port, he would have still made the same choice.

But in truth, whether Rast was dead or alive now made little difference.

Not far away, the distinct laughter of the Iron Cross could be heard alongside approaching footsteps.

Their thirst for blood and power had overcome any fear of the flames.

Hundreds, if not thousands, of Iron Crosses were swarming over the burning wreckage toward Rast.

To them, this place held an irresistible lure—besides Rast’s blood and the evil god’s sculpture, there was now also the corpse of the Iron Cross leader, Langley.

Whoever devoured that corpse might become the next Iron Cross leader—or even the future king of their kind.

Rast did not move.

Or rather, he couldn’t.

The previous bloody battle had drained all his physical strength.

And Langley had not been able to shield his entire body—shattered metal fragments had pierced his organs, and several sharp steel bars had severed the bones and tendons in his limbs.

Even his mental energy had been drained by that final shot to awaken Langley.

Rast’s senses dulled; even pain became a blur.

He knew that his current appearance was no longer human—just a mass of blood and flesh barely holding form.

He hadn't died yet only because the Iron Cross serum's effects hadn't completely worn off.

Its abnormal healing abilities were just barely keeping him alive.

Using his final strength, Rast groped for the pocket watch.

Inside the shattered dial, the 25-minute countdown had already ended.

The mission was complete.

He had single-handedly held back all of the city's Iron Cross for 25 minutes.

If all went according to plan, Shiltina should have already set up all the timed explosives in the factory and was escaping the port area through the ventilation ducts.

The wild laughter was now getting close.

The footsteps were far denser than before.

At least a thousand Iron Cross had gathered around Rast—these were the ones that had originally been outside the port zone.

Surrounded by such a swarm of Iron Cross, even if Rast were at full strength with an entire armory at his back, a breakout would have been impossible—let alone now, when he had fired his last bullet and couldn’t even lift a finger.

He closed his eyes and silently awaited death's arrival, and the start of a new loop.

It wasn’t because Rast feared pain or being devoured.

To be eaten alive by the Iron Cross was one of the more mundane ways he had died in previous loops.

His mind was instead on Shiltina and what would come after the new loop began.

Based on their brief time together, Rast judged that Shiltina was trustworthy—

Not the kind of person to break a promise.

If she truly escaped the Nightworld, she would likely try to find a way to rescue him.

But would she actually succeed in setting up the explosives and escaping the port before the detonation?

He didn’t know.

Would the evil god's Descent really be stopped if all the Iron Cross were blown to bits?

That was just his theory.

He had confidence in his calculations but had never tested it.

So he wasn’t sure.

Even if Shiltina really escaped the Nightworld, could she steadily build strength and return to the Nightworld Remnant to save him?

What if something happened to her in the meantime?

What if something new arose in the Nightworld?

Rast didn’t know.

He never trusted anyone.

For hundreds of years, Rast had always been alone.

But this time, he chose to place his bet on a girl he had only known for less than twenty-four hours—The rapier-wielding Shiltina.

Because she was the only variable that had ever appeared in his tens of thousands of loops.

He had no choice.

Even a one-in-ten-thousand chance had to be seized.

The footsteps came to a halt.

One Iron Cross stopped before him.

Rast heard the sound of a blade cutting through the air.

Just then, a gust of wind blew—Red and white winds.

The blade that had been about to strike Rast vanished into the wind.

Its wielder was also swept away to a distant place.

“True name, unleashed.”

A clear voice echoed across the steel ruins.

It was a girl speaking.

She spoke in a metallic tone, uttering an ancient language.

Rast had never heard this language before, but at that moment, he understood what the word meant.

It meant “Star.”

In the next instant—

The radiance of the morning star lit up his eyes.