Daddy is too Strong-Chapter 374

The Guide fidgeted with his fingers for a moment, as if he were debating what to say next.

“Um, if it’s alright... may I ask you for one favor?” he asked Do-Jun.

“A favor?”

“If, um... if someday you no longer need the map... I’d like to have it back.”

The Guide didn’t exactly look excited about parting with the map. He was shifting nervously, gulping every few seconds. He had told a lie during the Administrator Report Council, and swept up in the moment, he had handed the map to Do-Jun, something he should never have done in the first place. It wasn’t even a matter of neutrality. It simply wasn’t allowed.

“I think I can say this now. The truth is, the map already has an owner,” the Guide explained.

“Isn’t that you?” Do-Jun asked.

“No, my King. I’m just a custodian.”

Do-Jun stroked his chin and asked, “Then who’s the map’s real owner?”

“I’m actually not sure...”

How does he not know that...?

Seeing the confusion on Do-Jun’s face, the Guide quickly added an explanation. “The one who gave me the map told me the rightful owner would show up one day. I was supposed to be notified when that person emerged, but that instruction was given to me thousands of years ago, so I don’t even remember who gave me the map in the first place.”

The Guide recalled the distant past to the time when he was appointed as an administrator by the Core. He’d received the map from a mysterious, unknown being who carried an indescribable energy. However, his reminiscing didn’t last long.

Kyuu! Kyuuu! Kyuuuu!

A baby snake was crying on top of the Guide’s head. He had no idea when it had climbed up there. The tiny snake tapped his crown with its stubby tail, letting out persistent cries.

For some reason, the Guide found himself able to understand the snake’s cries, piece by piece. It kept repeating the word “Owner.” As he focused, he gradually made out a complete sentence.

Kyuu.

“The owner.”

Kyu.

“Is.”

Kyu, kyuu.

“Right in front.”

Kyuuuu.

“Of you.”

The owner was right in front of him. Blinking in surprise, the Guide stared up at the baby snake... then slowly pointed at Do-Jun.

Kyuuu!

“‘That’s right!’ Huh...?” The Guide froze. Then, realizing what had just happened, he jumped in shock and threw himself into a deep bow toward the baby snake.

He had no idea until now, but the little snake before him was the very being who had once granted him his role as an administrator and entrusted him with the map: Ouroboros.

“M-my deepest respects, O, Ouroboros!” He greeted the baby snake.

The baby snake—no, Ouroboros—looked satisfied at last and crawled back onto the back of Do-Jun’s hand.

The Guide gasped in disbelief, then his gaze shifted to Do-Jun’s wrist. “W-what is this...? How...?”

What shook him most wasn’t the fact that the rightful owner of the map had finally appeared, but that Ouroboros was with Do-Jun. In that moment, he finally understood. He realized why, during the last meeting, the other administrators had been so strangely devoted to Do-Jun, almost to an excessive degree.

They already knew that Ouroboros, the myth itself, was by Do-Jun’s side. That explained everything. There was no way the administrators, who were like gods among gods, would rally around one human just because he was the master of the Jade-Faced Noble.

“Those bastards all knew it and didn’t even bother telling me—” The guide abruptly stopped his muttering.

Ouroboros began slithering across the open map. Wherever he passed, a soft light shimmered across the parchment. Both Wei Zhongqi and the Guide watched in astonishment as the map gradually faded to white.

“What’s going on?” The guide gasped.

“Heavenly Demon... the map, it’s—”

However, to one person, it looked different. Do-Jun alone could see it. The map wasn’t going blank. Instead, Ouroboros had marked it as clear as day—a single path, stretching forward to somewhere unknown.

***

The farther he walked, the denser the concentration of magic became. The landscape subtly shifted, growing increasingly unfamiliar with each step, the air tinged with a deep sense of unease. Unlike usual, Kyu-Kyu, no, Ouroboros, kept silent, eyes fixed on the path ahead. Eventually, Do-Jun came to a stop before a blinding, pure-white dimensional gate. Beyond it stretched an endless flight of stairs, and at the very top, he could feel an overwhelming presence.

Kyuu.

“So this is what you wanted to show me,” Do-Jun remarked.

As soon as he laid eyes on the gate, Do-Jun realized who it was that Ouroboros had so desperately wanted to keep sealed away. The being beyond that gate was the King of the Dimensions. With that, the true reason behind the Encroachment finally became clear.

Kyu.

The Usurpers had been created by the King of the Dimensions, and the hourglass they protected represented the progression of the Encroachment.

Do-Jun remembered what Tusitala once said. “When the last grain of sand fell, Earth, the final planet, would meet its end.”

Back then, he had assumed “the end” referred only to Earth’s transfer into the Core.

Kyuuu.

But Ouroboros now told him something else: When the Encroachment concluded, the King of the Dimensions would awaken.

According to his original plan, that moment should have arrived long ago, but Do-Jun’s presence had affected the Core, causing the hourglass to stop. That delay had bought them time, but it was just that—a delay. Eventually, the King of the Dimensions would awaken.

“His goal is...” Do-Jun trailed off.

Kyuu. Kyuu, kyuuuu!

He didn’t even need to ask. He could already guess. That end could mean only one thing: destruction. What other reason could there be for bringing forth the Encroachment in the first place?

The king seated beyond the gate was paradoxical. He existed in the Deep Realm, its deepest layer at that, yet sat at its highest point. He was a presence that looked down on everything below. Seated on a throne with his chin resting on one hand, the king appeared to all the world as if he were already awake. Yet he didn’t move a muscle.

Kyuu... Ouroboros was deeply worried.

If the King of the Dimensions woke up, monsters would pour into the world on a scale and at a speed never seen before. But what frightened him even more was the concern that even Do-Jun might not be able to win. Compared to all the enemies he had faced until now, this was a completely different level.

Do-Jun reached out and gently stroked the top of Ouroboros’ head. The little snake looked up at him, only to find the same calm as always in Do-Jun’s eyes.

“I’ll need to prepare a little,” he said with a faint smile, “but you don’t have to worry too much.”

Kyuu?

Do-Jun smiled again.

Ouroboros couldn’t believe it. How could he remain so calm in the face of something so powerful?

Do-Jun sent his qi flowing toward the other side of the gate. The energy shot up the stairs, moving swiftly. When it reached the throne, it gently circled the king before dissipating without a trace.

I see... Do-Jun narrowed his eyes. He had caught a glimpse of the king’s power.

It was enough to make him think, Maybe this time I’ll have to take things seriously.

That thought brought a quiet smile to his lips.

***

Not long after Do-Jun left the Path of Dimensions, the King of the Dimensions slowly opened his eyes. It was a reflex. Something had instinctively triggered a sense of “threat.” Was it a dream? Or had something actually happened?

He rose from his seat, clenched his hand, then opened it. All around him stretched a world of pure white, an utterly empty void of nothingness. This was a place completely sealed off from any external presence.

“I must have woken up for nothing.”

There was no reason for any foreign energy to suddenly appear in this space, and the idea of someone’s energy leaking in from the outside was even more absurd. Yet that sensation from moments ago, as if something had swept across his entire body... what was it?

It hadn’t been his. That much was certain. There were also no traces of intrusion. This was not a space one could simply invade in the first place, except for one possible exception. Entry to this place was technically possible with the two keys, Origin and Cosmos. Doing so would mean one thing: a challenge to the throne.

Those two keys were protected by their respective guardians. If someone had managed to take hold of even one... the possibility existed. If he narrowed it down to someone capable of such a feat, it would be the Dragon Lord, or perhaps Solomon. It was unlikely, but maybe even Imfelheim or Laghaim.

No. It wasn’t them. He rejected that idea after some thought.

Their power wouldn’t be enough to reach this place. Entering a void like this would be beyond their means.

The King of the Dimensions closed his eyes once again. It wouldn’t be long now. Just a little longer, and everything would be within his grasp. Once that time came, everything, just as he had wished, would return to nothing. And so would he. That was the very reason he had begun the Encroachment in the first place.

He had already made up his mind. Once the last remaining planet was fully transferred, he planned to wipe out every remaining lifeform himself.

***

Solomon, now awake, had been quietly watching Baal. Lately, Baal seemed to be enjoying himself. He’d been smiling a lot, strangely so. However, what Solomon thought odd was that even seeing that ridiculous grin, he wasn’t bothered.

Suddenly, a memory of his visit to the Treasure Goblin Company with the baby named Byeol resurfaced. Her tiny hands, as delicate as fiddlehead ferns, had held his as they walked together.

Solomon decided to ask Baal a question.

—Baal.

“Yes, Lord Solomon.”

—Could you give someone a treasure with no strings attached, even if they were a stranger?

“Probably not...,” Baal answered, caught off guard by the sudden question.

—The other day, a child gave me something called a Choco Pie.

Baal didn’t say anything.

It was a small thing, but to me, it was like the most precious treasure, Solomon thought. And she gave it to me... for no reason at all.

He recalled the way the child had smiled. Those impossibly pure, glimmering eyes, the way her lips curled up into a soft grin. The memory felt strange.

He commented.

—If the world ends... that child will never smile again.

Baal was stunned that Solomon, the Solomon, had just said something like that. His heart had always been filled with nothing but evil.

—Baal...

“Yes, Lord Solomon.”

Solomon muttered as he watched Baal watering a flower bed.

—Even in this vile world... somehow, flowers still manage to bloom. It’s strange, isn’t it?

Beautiful blossoms had sprouted, smiling brightly. In the barren, lifeless lands of the Deep Realm, where nothing should’ve grown, flowers were blooming.

Perhaps the real ugliness wasn’t the world. Maybe it had always been his own heart. Solomon let out a bitter smile.