"You... don’t know the Love God?"

The emotion behind that question was extremely faint—because it was obvious that what was communicating with Muen right now was only a wisp of will. Even before entering this tower, the dreams about the girl had been just as simple and wooden.

But that tiny trace of confusion was enough to send a tsunami through Muen’s mind.

She didn’t know the Love God.

This girl... no. Even if she was appearing in front of him in the shape of a girl right now, the fact that she had led those people a thousand years ago—back when they still hadn’t become demonfolk yet—and the fact that she had the qualifications to activate the Myriad-Age Cycle meant one thing:

When she was alive, she was absolutely a top-tier powerhouse.

At her level, she would definitely have brushed up against matters related to gods. More than that—the entire demonfolk race had brought down that catastrophe precisely because they worshiped that Demon God.

And yet she still didn’t know the Love God—an existence whose “prestige” was obviously far lower than the Demon God’s.

"Is it because the Love God had a different honorific a thousand years ago?"

No. That wasn’t right either.

The Authority of love was completely different from those flashy, bizarre Authorities of other Evil Gods. It was easy to recognize. Even if the Love God had been wearing some other mask back then, anyone who knew them wouldn’t hear the words “Love God” and not make the connection.

Which meant the more likely possibility was...

A thousand years ago, there was no Love God yet.

"That sounds a little hard to believe..."

Even if they were the disgrace among Evil Gods—still, a true god whose age wasn’t even a thousand years?

Younger than that old loli?

So the Love God actually had that kind of attribute too? No wonder their temper was so awful... so what is this? That trash-fish who pops out every time to mock people, but is also the first one to start crying?

"Somehow the Love God’s weird traits just keep piling up..."

Muen rubbed his chin, his brows slowly knitting together.

For now, he tossed the matter of the Love God to the back of his mind. Same reason as always—thinking about it was meaningless at the moment. With the time it would take to chew on that, he’d be better off thinking about how to pry that old loli’s mouth open once he got back.

She definitely knew something. She just wasn’t saying it. And whenever it came to Evil Gods, even strawberry lollipops had a hard time getting the truth out of her.

Which was why he never should’ve let the Riddler crawl out of Gotham in the first place. Now even in another world, it was Riddlers everywhere.

Of course, realistically speaking, the Love God’s age wasn’t important to Muen right now anyway. Whether they were irritable or a crying trash-fish, the moment the girl in front of him said she didn’t recognize them, it meant one thing—

"The shadow you mentioned, hiding beside Shenyi... if it isn’t the Love God, then it can only be from ‘them,’ right?" Muen looked at the girl seriously again.

This “them” was not that “them.”

He had run into that remnant shadow in this tower. He had watched the leftovers of that battle from a thousand years ago. And he had literally just had a nightmare about a world-ending calamity. Even using his toes to think, he knew what kind of thing could influence Shenyi for a thousand years.

The Demon God.

Of course, it definitely wasn’t the complete Demon God from a thousand years ago—the one that nearly ended the world. It had to be something they left behind.

Something extremely dangerous.

"..."

The girl didn’t answer. But not answering was, in itself, a kind of confirmation.

"Yeah. If the Myriad-Age Cycle’s real function is to cleanse the pollution on those people who used to be ‘their’ believers through reincarnation... the entire demonfolk race has gone through who knows how many cycles over the past thousand years. But Shenyi alone..."

Shenyi—who was madly chasing the revival of that so-called “Demon King”—had never gone through reincarnation.

Not even once.

So over the course of a thousand years, “accidentally” accumulating some kind of untainted... or having been polluted from the start... either way, it was perfectly normal.

"I just wanted to rescue my little maid, and somehow this keeps getting bigger and bigger."

Muen let out a long breath.

Heaven help him—who would’ve guessed that his original reason for coming to Gutongs Castle was just to be an inconspicuous infiltrator and dig out the demonfolk’s hidden secrets?

He never imagined he’d end up facing something left behind by that Demon God head-on someday...

"Are you afraid?"

In the middle of Muen’s lament, the girl finally spoke again.

She was like a puppet robot that only reacted to keywords. Most of the time, her exchanges with Muen were wooden and dull—yet every so often she would suddenly say something outrageous.

"Afraid? Heh. Of course I’m afraid."

Muen looked at his own hand.

That time with the Love God. That time with the Withering King. That time with the Silent Moon. That time with the Mother of Abundance too... Maybe it really was because fate hated this yellow-haired villain who should’ve been dead a long time ago—because along the way, he’d barely gotten any of that “cool bragging and face-slapping” wish-fulfillment plot, and he’d had absolutely none of those blood-boiling adventures.

Aside from a tiny bit of “romantic luck” he’d fought for with his life...

Everything else had been getting tangled up with these weird existences, one after another.

Sometimes Muen almost got the illusion that he was the peerless beauty everyone adored—that any Evil God who happened to pass by would want to hook a finger under his chin, tell him what a tender little girl he was, and suggest they go play something “fun” together...

"But compared to that, I liked it way more back when I was fighting a strong enemy like Zagu—with Ariel, in that exquisitely perfect coordination."

But—

Muen’s tone shifted. He suddenly clenched his fist.

"Flirt with me all you want. Flirt with my girl, and no. The last one who tried that has grass half a meter tall on their grave by now!"

Muen lifted his chin proudly, flames roaring in his eyes. The anniversary of the moon getting screwed to death was practically here—what was there to be scared of, some Demon God leftovers? Worst case, he’d pull out his ultimate move—

Beg the Black Book to save, save, save...

He refused to believe that if he screamed “save” seventeen times in one second, the Black Book could possibly hold out against it.

"This is for you."

Suddenly.

Just as Muen was thinking about how to drop to his knees and slide in a way that would make the Black Book lend a hand, the girl in front of him extended her hand—offering him something.

It was the circle she had condensed earlier. That miniature Myriad-Age Cycle.

"This is...?"

Muen didn’t think it was the real Myriad-Age Cycle. If this wisp of her will could still control the Myriad-Age Cycle, things wouldn’t have gotten to this point.

"A key," the girl said.

"A key?"

Muen looked up, puzzled, staring at the girl.

That blurry layer of mist still blocked his vision—and it also blocked the urge to keep asking. A clear sense of rejection began to appear. The entire room was trembling. The wind chime swayed. Even the distant, drifting shouts outside had already faded away.

A thought flashed through Muen’s mind...

The dream was about to end.

"All right. Looks like you’re not leaving me time to keep digging. Then I’ll ask one last question—same as before. The question I want answered most."

Muen stared even harder, as if he wanted to pierce straight through that vague mist and look directly into the girl’s eyes. He snatched the ring, then asked:

"Why... me?"

Why was he—Muen Campbell—the one guided here, the one she had chosen...

"Because you came, didn’t you?" the girl said softly.

"..."

Muen froze—not because the words contained some shocking secret, but because her tone right now was clearly more alive than it had been.

As if she was no longer that puppet that only replied to keywords, but a real person—crossing a thousand years of time to stand in front of him.

But before Muen could say anything else, the entire dream space twisted completely. Countless lights and shadows churned, swallowing him.

Muen vanished.

And yet the dream space remained—completely unreasonable in its persistence.

The vague mist on the girl’s face was gone. She stood there quietly, looking—no one could tell whether she was watching the spot where Muen had disappeared, or reminiscing about a room she used to know all too well.

Only after a long time did she let out a deeply emotional sigh.

"To be honest, I’m surprised too."

A trace of confusion appeared on her face, followed by something complicated, something relieved.

She smiled.

"But if this is your arrangement... then I think this time, it shouldn’t end in such a sad ending again."

From the far end of the dream space, there came the faint sound of pages turning—like a response.

...

...

"Tch—damn, that hurts."

Muen woke up. Before he even opened his eyes, he immediately felt an inexplicably familiar sensation.

Ever since he came to Gutongs Castle, every time he woke up...

He woke up in pain.

But this time there was a small difference in the details—like the fact that what hurt wasn’t his body, but...

His face.

Yeah. His face.

As if something very hard had slammed straight into it.

"Shit. Don’t tell me the ceiling collapsed."

Muen raised a hand and shoved hard, forcing the thing pressing on his face up. As light returned a little, he also couldn’t help thinking that whatever it was didn’t actually feel as hard as he’d imagined.

If he had to describe it, it was like some kind of refined leather wrapped around something hard inside—like a steel plate...

Wait. Steel plate?

"..."

Muen’s expression went rigid. He slowly shifted his gaze, following his braced-up hand—

He’d already prayed in his heart a dozen times, but as his sight crossed that “steel plate” and traveled up past the slightly messy clothes...

He still saw a pretty face, blank and expressionless.

Yeah. No ceiling—and no steel plate—would have a face like that.

So...

"Does it feel good?"

That pretty face stared at him. She wasn’t showing much emotion, but in those deep eyes it was like a tidal wave was crashing hard enough to swallow rocks.

That wasn’t a wave.

It was pure killing intent.

"Hah... haha..."

Muen forced out a smile.

"It... it feels pretty good. At least it’s... bigger than I expected..."

"I’ll kill you! You bastard!"

The “pure-love war goddess” who’d woken up to being molested instantly exploded. Like a starving wolf, she lunged straight at Muen.

Muen scrambled to dodge while firing off explanations at top speed.

"Wait! Listen to me—this is all a misunderstanding! A misunderstanding! Who told you to press down on top of me—"

"Bullshit! You jumped first, I jumped after you! If I’m not pressing down on you, then what, you’re pressing down on me?!"

"That was just an accident! Believe me, I have zero thoughts like that—I’m a big-boobs guy!"

"Die!"

"Why are you even angrier?!"

Muen shifted his body—only to realize the place he and Ariel were stuck in was actually extremely cramped. Not only did he fail to dodge her pounce, the frantic struggle in such tight quarters made it even easier for more parts to get “accidentally” touched.

Luckily, the one advantage of a space this cramped was that Ariel couldn’t pull out her Skyfire greatsword for the moment. Otherwise, he really might’ve had to die here.

"W-Wait, this is not the time to get mad over something this small! The important thing—business first, business first!"

Muen looked sincerely earnest. After an extremely heartfelt lecture, he finally got Ariel to loosen the hand that had been choking his neck.

"I’m sparing your life for now, because of that one hundred million!" Ariel snarled.

"Cough, cough... th-thanks."

Muen was deeply moved.

Rough estimate, that one hundred million had already saved his life three times. What a deal. At this point, even if he sold off his old man’s manor, his dad probably wouldn’t complain, right?

"Wait—now isn’t the time to talk about that..."

Muen braced himself up.

"Where are we?"

"You’re asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?"

Ariel rolled her eyes.

"Isn’t this the place you guided us to?"

"I guided... right."

Muen blanked for a second, finally remembering what happened before that “real” dream.

He and Ariel had followed the Myriad-Age Cycle’s branch down from the tower, jumping—and then...

They ended up here.

Muen looked around. This space really was as cramped as he’d just felt. Even though Ariel was doing her best to get away from him, she still had no choice but to keep a small part of her body pressed against his.

That look of absolute disgust—while still being forced to touch him—was great. It made you want to give a thumbs-up without thinking.

But the cramped feeling wasn’t because the room itself was small.

It was because Muen and Ariel were surrounded by a huge quantity of precise cables, and all kinds of instruments he couldn’t identify at all.

A faint glow of magic flowed through those cables. It had a rhythm like breathing. Muen’s gaze slowly tracked along them, turning—until it finally landed straight in front of him.

A square platform.

Flat. Clean. But it felt like the core of everything here—overwhelmingly present.

And most importantly, right at the center of that square «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» platform—

Was a circular groove.

"This is..."

Muen lowered his head and looked at his left hand.

The Myriad-Age Cycle branch that had been on his wrist was gone at some point. In its place, resting in his palm, was that perfect ring.

"What is that?"

Ariel leaned in.

"The Myriad-Age Cycle? It’s that small?"

"This... is probably a gift from a thousand years ago."

Muen suddenly understood something, and a smile tugged at his lips.

Right. There was no way they’d really send a weak little scrub like him to face Demon God leftovers head-on.

It was like how there was always something nearby a stage-ending boss that specifically countered them.

He had to have something “handy,” too.

"Hope this thing actually works."

Muen shoved the miniature Myriad-Age Cycle into the groove.

It slid in perfectly—like it had been cut from the platform itself.

Humm—

The instant that “key” went in, some vast sound came from an extremely distant place. Even after a thousand years, the sound of the startup was still just as grand and powerful—

Like the heartbeat of a giant.

A seam opened in the platform. A lever-like device popped up. The magical sheen flowing over it carried a profound, arcane beauty—like it was luring Muen to grab it.

"I’m doing it!"

And Muen grabbed it.

Pff—

The very next second, Muen was bounced back even harder than before. He spat out a huge mouthful of blood, leaving Ariel—who’d been watching the show—staring in shock.

"That was... a blood oath to claim it? Is the usage process on this thing really that ancient?"

"...What blood oath? Is this a ‘drop’ to you? I’m practically a fountain."

Muen grimaced as he got back up.

"Help me."

"Huh? Help you? How?"

Ariel had a bad feeling about this, but there was nowhere to run in this hellhole.

"Actually operating this thing seems to require serious mental strength, but I overdrawn mine way too hard earlier. One person isn’t enough."

Muen grabbed the lever again and turned to her earnestly.

"But two people... I think two is enough."

"Why would I—"

"One hundred million."

"...Tch."

Ariel clicked her tongue. She didn’t want to, but at a time like this, if Muen Campbell died here from spurting blood and she never got that one hundred million, it would be too tragic.

So she reached out her hand and placed it over the back of Muen’s hand—covering it, gripping his palm with him.

"Last time," she said, disgust all over her face as that familiar warmth came back.

"Sure," Muen said cheerfully.

Muen laughed and shoved the lever.

"Last time!"

No agreement beforehand. No well-timed countdown.

Their mental strength poured into the platform like that—together—without either of them even realizing the tacit coordination.

Bright light reflected in Muen’s eyes.

In that brief instant, an unimaginably vast amount of information—along with the roar of an ancient machine in operation—began flooding deep into his consciousness.

【Confirming identity information... Identity information confirmed...】

【Confirming authorization information... Authorization information confirmed...】

【Confirming coordinate information... Coordinate information confirmed...】

【Confirming construction information... Confirmation complete... Integrity: 33%... Remaining energy: 19%...】

【Reaching minimum designed startup threshold... Startup permitted...】

【Godslaying Mechanism · Kalodis’s Spear... beginning charge!】