"So—just like I thought. Even relying on Elizabeth’s alchemical domain, I can’t cut off a lock-on that comes from the level of the soul, huh?"

Flickering arcs of electricity carried fine iron filings as they flipped and drifted. Like a perfect light-arc along the edge of an eclipse, they built a layer around Muen—an alchemical domain that could isolate his presence and block most negative influences.

This domain had been personally crafted by the old loli. Its effects and practical value had already been fully proven in many of Muen’s previous battles.

But ever since he recalled that scene—his soul being pierced through by chains—Muen had instinctively felt that an alchemical domain couldn’t possibly cut off the enemy’s pursuit.

Because it wasn’t tracking his aura, and it wasn’t magic.

It was a direct lock-on aimed at the level of his soul.

That, too, was a kind of rule.

A kind of rule capable of bypassing the properties of an alchemical domain.

"It’s just that... I didn’t expect—"

Muen flicked both hands, expanding the alchemical domain outward, then covering Ariel behind him completely with it.

"—that you house dogs could get here this fast."

Clang!

Blades collided, and the shrill ring of metal screamed through the air.

The demonfolk who emerged from the shadows had a flicker of disbelief on his face. He hadn’t expected to be exposed so quickly.

His concealment ability was top-tier even among the Flayers...

"You really can hide."

Muen turned. Thunder roared and shook. An unimaginable stacked force poured into this seemingly ordinary slash in an instant.

"But if you want to play shadow-stalking with me, you’re still too green."

"..."

The demonfolk’s eyes widened. Only then did he realize that around Muen’s body, there seemed to be a layer of distorted light and shadow. When he drew close, he’d disturbed it—and that was why he’d been spotted so easily.

Magic?

Strange. Didn’t the intelligence say that the Campbell family of the human empire—just like their demon race—was completely bad at magic?

Then why could Muen Campbell use something like this?

Fury rose in the demonfolk’s chest—anger at being deceived by false intelligence spread by his own people.

But that anger didn’t last long.

"Pff."

He lowered his head blankly.

At some point, the boning knife in his hand had already been casually cut into two pieces—like tofu. And that pure white blade had pierced straight through his chest with ease.

"How is this possible... cough, cough... from this close, in such a short time... how can you explode with that much power?"

The demonfolk couldn’t believe it. He was a powerhouse whose realm was about to reach fifth-tier. He should have been a little stronger than this human in front of him—so why, in a single exchange...?

"Short?"

Muen pulled the blade free, the thunder-sound drawing back in.

"Not short at all, is it? This much time is enough for me to swing dozens of times. Compared to fast, a man really can’t be called short."

"You..."

The demonfolk died in gloom. And in the next instant his body was swallowed by pitch-black flame, turning into fuel that supported Muen’s movement.

"In the end, I still have to rely on you."

The black flame swayed—like a mischievous sprite—hopping around at Muen’s side.

"If I didn’t have you, I probably would’ve lost even the strength to stand up a long time ago."

A bitter smile spread in Muen’s eyes.

After all, trading punches with someone on the level of Grand Duke Shenyi wasn’t exactly easy.

But even if the black flame could keep him going to this point...

Plip.

The sound of blood dripping to the ground was painfully clear.

Muen lightly wiped under his nose, and sure enough, he saw that familiar deep red again.

His mind hurt even more sharply than before. And this was after using only a little black flame—he didn’t even dare touch the black sun in his mental space right now.

Because mental strength wasn’t like battle-qi or mana—something you could restore easily. If you didn’t rest properly, it was like water without a source: use a little, and you had a little less.

But with the current situation, how could he talk about rest?

That earlier loss of consciousness had only pulled his mental space back a tiny bit from the brink of collapse.

It didn’t mean Muen was “recovered.” Even if on the surface he looked much better than Ariel, compared to external injuries, Muen’s wounds at the mental level were far more severe.

Zagu’s guess was right.

Right now, Muen’s mental space was like a vase glued back together—maybe just a breeze from nowhere would be enough to shatter it completely.

"So, the one letting dogs loose to bite people from behind—aren’t you coming out?"

Muen lifted his head, looking at the shadows ahead.

Besides the guy who’d just launched a sneak attack, the shadows writhed—and nearly ten more Flayers slowly emerged from the darkness.

All of these Flayers were dressed about the same: boning knives, cloaks... like that was the “ID” that made even the demon race itself fear them.

And beyond them, Muen also saw a demonfolk in a black robe standing farthest back.

That black-robed demonfolk didn’t match the Flayers at all, but he seemed to be only watching the battlefield, with no intention of joining in.

"Counting that black-clothed one... that makes nine total."

Muen tapped a finger lightly on his hilt, calculating fast.

"About half of what Ariel faced earlier. If I lose here, Ariel will laugh at me for the rest of my life..."

Of course he wouldn’t lose.

"But what matters isn’t these Flayers. What matters is... how to shake off their lock-on."

If he couldn’t shake off the lock-on, then even if he killed more pursuers, it would all be meaningless.

Because this was Gutongs Castle.

This was the demon race’s main base.

Even if he killed more demonfolk, more pursuers—there would only be more hunting dogs released.

Unless he could kill every last demonfolk in all of Gutongs Castle.

But if he could do that, why would he be running right now?

He could just dance on Grand Duke Shenyi’s grave. Why would he need An to risk everything to help him escape?

At that thought, Muen’s gaze suddenly fell to his wrist.

Around his wrist, there was a thin ring—like a line drawn with a pencil: slender, dim, perfectly matching the edge of his cuff. If you didn’t look carefully, it was hard to notice.

But with Muen’s eyesight, he could naturally tell it wasn’t just a thin line...

It was a chain.

A chain split off from that ancient relic terrifying enough to be called such—

【Myriad-Age Cycle】.

Ever since Muen woke up, he’d constantly felt a faint warmth coming from that chain, like it was...

"Guiding me to something?"

An wouldn’t have gone through that much trouble to leave him something that was only decoration. And using something like this as decoration didn’t fit An’s aesthetic at all.

It definitely had some purpose—he just hadn’t had the time to investigate it yet.

Time. Time. Time...

He—who had been carefully trained by the old loli, who would ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) one day bear the authority of time—had been racing time nonstop.

"Anyway... let’s move according to what I planned."

Muen took a deep breath, first calming his breath and mind. Then in his mental space, he gently called out those two words.

And then—

Eyes open. Blade raised. Slash!

A dazzling blade-light instantly lit up the dark cave!

Other than the demonfolk who couldn’t hold back and went for a sneak attack earlier, the rest of the Flayers hadn’t attacked actively after surrounding Muen.

Because time was on their side.

The closest one to Muen was a tall, powerfully built demonfolk.

The moment that blade-light flared, viciousness flashed on his face.

Even his boning knife was larger and more grotesque than the others’. He gathered all his strength, preparing to take Muen’s slash head-on.

However—

His vision blurred.

The Muen who’d been charging at him suddenly vanished.

So abrupt it was like someone had forcibly cut out a segment from recorded footage. The tall demonfolk had no time to react at all.

And when Muen appeared again—

"AAAH!"

A Flayer behind the tall demonfolk let out a piercing scream.

That Flayer’s reaction was fast. He’d already started to move to dodge in advance. The pure white short blade only punched through the side of his chest—normally, that wouldn’t even be fatal.

But right now—

Pitch-black flame surged along the blade and drilled into his wound, devouring his flesh.

The black flame entered from the wound and then leaped out from his eye sockets, mouth, and nose. That Flayer’s scream lasted less than a second before, just like his body that was completely swallowed by flame, he was erased into nothingness.

"One."

Even though he hadn’t been awake then, maybe it was another coincidence—Muen had started counting too, just like Ariel.

"Die!"

Seeing his companion killed in front of him, the tall demonfolk roared in rage. His grotesque boning knife swung down viciously toward Muen’s back.

Muen couldn’t dodge in time. He could only turn and cross his twin blades, forcing himself to take it.

Boom!

Muen’s whole body sank.

Like taking a meteor head-on, his blood and qi went chaotic for a moment.

There was no way around it.

With both his mind and body far from full condition, his time-slowing right now could only be pushed to fifty times.

Less than half of his peak.

So after instantly killing one, he had to expose some openings.

Fortunately...

Sometimes, openings could also be used.

Pshhk.

The black flame swayed again, climbing from where the blades touched, creeping up onto the tall demonfolk’s boning knife.

The tall demonfolk’s expression changed drastically, and he immediately pulled back to retreat.

But Muen rose and pressed forward, slashing—slashing—slashing again.

A long-missed art—

Dagger Close-Quarters Combat!

Sharp blade-light wove into a net. With his large body, the tall demonfolk couldn’t handle that storm-like rapid assault. As he struggled left and right, several wounds tore open his unbelievably tough surface.

And then—

Black, bewitching flowers bloomed again in those wounds.

"AAAH!!"

A scream even more spine-chilling than before.

"Second one... so loud."

The tall demonfolk was burned by the black flame, converted into strength Muen could use right now—but Muen suddenly stopped in place, his body swaying slightly.

Not only under his nose—at the corners of his eyes, even from his ear canals... more bloodthreads painted an evil-ghost-like makeup across Muen’s face.

Muen stomped hard on the ground, forcing his near-fainting consciousness back into clarity. Twin blades crossed, he slashed toward the direction the killing danger was coming from.

A little off.

That flame-tailed strike that tore through the air wasn’t fully blocked. A spear with anti-magic power grazed past Muen’s shoulder, blooming a spray of blood.

But only a spray.

Muen brushed his shoulder. His magic-conductive armor—cold on the outside, warm within—blocked most of the damage, keeping the strike from doing anything worse.

That Ariel... she was pretty attentive.

If only that attentiveness wasn’t used to pick up girls...

"So you finally... switched weapons, huh?"

Muen’s gaze swept over the spear.

Ariel might not understand, but Muen recognized it at a glance—this kind of anti-magic spear was made with materials and craftsmanship from the human kingdoms.

"But that’s strange... fewer than I expected. Were most of the magic-conductive materials used for something else?"

"Quick! Fall back!"

Seeing the sneak attack fail again, one of the Flayers shouted with an ugly expression.

"It’s that weird black flame Lord Zagu talked about! Fall back—don’t fight him up close!"

Pff.

The Flayer’s eyes snapped wide. He stared blankly as Muen—who had no idea when he’d closed in—drove blade and flame... into his flesh.

"Third one... think you can run?"

Muen indifferently pulled the short blade out.

Maybe under normal conditions, his raw strength really was a little weaker than Ariel.

But right now—where he didn’t need to hide his methods and could use the black flame as he pleased...

When it came to clearing trash mobs, he was far better than Ariel.

Muen also knew that for him, whose mental strength was already almost completely dried up, every use of black flame was like hammering a nail into his brain.

That kind of pain—an ordinary person would’ve gone insane already.

"Fourth... fifth... sixth..."

Under the twin assault of extreme speed and black flame, one Flayer after another became the strength that supported Muen’s next swing.

Finally, the few remaining Flayers couldn’t endure the terror of being devoured until nothing remained—not even ash.

They shouted toward the black-robed man:

"Kanuaza—how much longer!"

"I-I’m doing my best!"

"So that’s it. You’re plotting some ghost bullshit in the dark, huh?"

Muen’s gaze snapped to the black-robed man still hiding far away.

It was already too late to charge over, and the other Flayers were deliberately tangling him up, so—

Thunder boomed. A pure white short blade fused with dozens of stacked forces was thrown straight out.

The short blade practically crossed space itself. The black-robed man—sweating heavily as he prepared something—didn’t even have time to react before he was pierced through.

No resistance. No dodging.

And yet, almost the instant the black-robed man was pierced, the corner of his mouth suddenly split into a bizarre grin.

"Hehe... t-too late."

His long sleeve flipped back, revealing what he held—

A bell?

Ding-ding.

The bell shook.

That pleasant, crisp chiming—like a warm spring breeze—blew straight toward Muen’s face.

Pure light suddenly covered the entire world.

...

"This is—"

"You brat, what the hell are you spacing out for?"

That familiar voice jolted Muen awake. At the same time, a broad hand slapped his shoulder, nearly making him stumble.

"At your own wedding and you’re daydreaming? Can’t you show even a little of what the Campbell family is supposed to look like!"

"Wedding?"

Muen blinked, staring at the old father beside him in formal wear, beaming with joy, and he couldn’t help going blank again.

He turned to look around.

White doves wheeled through the air. Flowers carpeted the ground. So many familiar friends and companions clapped and smiled at him. Even the sun itself seemed to have turned a few degrees warmer.

Everything was so beautiful it was unbelievable.

Right... today was his wedding...

"Father, let me ask an immature question—who exactly is the one about to hold the ceremony with me? Celicia? Or Senior Anna? Or Liya, or An—"

"Why do you have so much damn nonsense to say? You even forgot who your wife is? Move, move, don’t waste time. The bride’s waiting."

Urged impatiently by Lorne, Muen walked into the cathedral where the bell was ringing.

The Goddess watched. Holy Light swirled. In the most beautiful place in the world, a young woman in a pure white wedding dress held a bouquet, face covered, smiling shyly.

Muen stepped in front of her.

The priest held the sacred scripture and began a rhythmic recitation.

Maybe because the sunlight was too warm, or because his heartbeat was too loud, Muen didn’t hear a single word of the priest’s long, drawn-out vows.

So when the priest’s voice finally returned to his mind, it had already fast-forwarded straight to the most important step.

"Now... the vow-kiss!"

Muen drew a deep breath, then looked at the girl in front of him with deep affection.

Thick love turned into a spoonful of honey, stirring constantly inside his heart.

Fine.

Whether the girl in front of him was Celicia, Anna, Liya, or An—since he’d come this far, he would use everything he had to love her.

So—come on.

Muen leaned down slightly.

And the girl finally slowly moved the bouquet away from her face, revealing a beauty even more moving than a delicate flower.

In that instant—

It was as if time stopped. As if the world ended.

Everything around them went silent. Even the sound of a heartbeat could no longer be heard.

Only Muen’s eyes widened, inch by inch.

Only Muen’s cheek suddenly twitched.

Only Muen’s body—leaning down—snapped back like a giant pendulum.

And—

An unbelievable scream that drowned out everything.

"Ariel?!!"