I just destroyed 47 enemies, and 203 remain.... The area has been severed from the outside world... This mysterious environment itself radiates malice toward all living things.... A blood-red moon hangs low in the sky... Lastly, I can sense the faint aura of a priest in the distance... Arang analyzed the situation instinctively as he observed the armored troops, which didn't hastily approach.
Arang laughed silently and spread his arms wide. Two independent output devices mounted on his trapezius flared open like wings. They released stored energy, forming a shimmering force field around him, like an awning.
The enemies didn't attack immediately. Their crimson-tinged eyes glinted with caution as they studied the barrier.
At the very least, they have the ability to think. Though he had created the shield for defense, it unexpectedly bought him some time.
"You... What are you?" a voice suddenly asked.
Arang turned to the old man standing beside him. The man appeared to be the companion of the girl who had tossed the coin earlier.
Arang did not know the details, but neither seemed hostile.
He studied Alderson and said tersely, "Leave."
"What?!" Alderson exclaimed.
"I'll handle things here. You likely have other matters to attend to. You're free to go."
Alderson's voice dropped slightly. "Who the hell are you?"
"At the very least, I'm not your enemy."
"Do you even understand what's happening right now?" Alderson pressed.
"Not exactly. I'm still assessing the situation. For now, I'm trusting my intuition," Arang replied.
Alderson fell silent.
Could this mysterious being even have intuition?
As the continent's greatest puppeteer, Alderson's keen eyes saw through much. He knew this being was essentially an artificial lifeform, similar to a golem.
Yet its design surpassed that simple comparison—it was too intricate, too precise, too beautiful for anyone to fully comprehend. Compared to the armored troops, Alderson's masterpiece, the differences were vast, like comparing a toy's structure to a train's complex engineering.
In addition, this is an artificial lifeform with emotions. Wasn't that alone one of the greatest unsolved challenges in modern puppetry?
Alderson held himself back. The flaw of a mage, their inquisitiveness, threatened to reveal its presence.
Nonetheless, Arang was right. Despite the chaos swirling inside, his mana reserves remained steady. There would be a purpose for this.
At that moment, one of the armored soldiers approached the force field and thrust a spear-shaped weapon downward. A sharp crackle of electricity sparked as the attack rebounded.
"Confirmed repulsive force from the intangible barrier."
"Judged impossible to break through in current state."
"Analyzing, analyzing, analyzing..."
Were they malfunctioning? The armored troops' mechanical voices echoed relentlessly in the sky.
Cracks splintered through their dazzling white armors. Beneath them, lumps of festering flesh started to bulge upward.
"What...!" Arin gasped, covering her mouth in shock.
The armored troops started to twist into horrific forms. The artificial lifeforms modeled after the legendary White Knights now looked like demons riddled with tumors.
"How can this be?" Alderson's voice was hollow. Even if he had witnessed all of them self-destruct at once, it wouldn't have left him feeling this empty or riddled with guilt.
"What... the hell..."
"There was a seed inside," Arang said quietly but clearly. "It was planted deep in their hearts, within the cores that power their motions, and it grew explosively. It is fused too deeply to be removed."
That explained everything.
At that moment, Alderson's armored troops had fallen to the same level as the doll demons roaming the Otherworld.
One transformed soldier let out an eerie, guttural shriek. It no longer qualified as an artificial lifeform.
Its grotesque hand lashed out. The force field held firm, but now hundreds pressed against it.
Arin gagged but forced down her nausea. It was a hideous sight, like a swarm of mosquitoes clinging to a lamp post. She could clearly see the writhing contaminated flesh and veins as thick as earthworms.
Watching them, Alderson muttered, "I know you are powerful. But most of the armored soldiers are still intact and even stronger than before. I doubt you can unleash that kind of attack indefinitely."
"That's right."
"And yet, you still intend to face them alone?"
"I do."
Alderson knew nothing about this unidentified being. Given the situation, he could believe that this was an ally but had no way to gauge Arang's strength.
Was it confidence? Or arrogance? Now was not the time to debate. He had to trust his instincts.
Alderson squeezed his eyes shut and said, "Can I ask you for a favor?"
"Speak."
"Let all of them... rest in peace..."
Arang's eyes brightened with intrigue. He knew little about the old man, yet the way he treated artificial lifeforms—creations with limited functions and lack of full reasoning capacity—as human was genuinely noteworthy. It was a sentiment, and a form of respect, that an android with artificial intelligence couldn't help but appreciate."I will."
"Thank you." Alderson gave a firm nod and vanished from the rooftop.
Arang stared at the empty space where the man had stood.
That's an unusual technique. Could it be a form of teleportation? he wondered, then turned his eyes back to the sky.
Within seconds, his flickering eyes absorbed every detail of the enemy—their numbers, strengths, weaknesses, and individual traits. His analytical skill bordered on the supernatural.
Still, it was not perfect. He could only assess what lay on the surface.
If anyone challenged him, Arang would argue that he could describe the digestive system's waste process in real time.
He understood the distinction between surface and core
After all, the internal energy contained within the dantian wasn't visible to the naked eye. Arang had seen old men—frail in appearance, their muscles degraded and joints weakened—split mountains and part seas.
Still, the opposite held true as well. These mechanical enemies couldn't conceal anything. Their bodies revealed everything, like open blueprints.
They all look similar, but they are different in detail. I can treat them as custom-built variations of a single model.
Though built on the same base design, each displayed unique traits. It was likely all the customization came from a single individual.
Arang could detect something uniquely human—an imprint of behavior that couldn't be entirely erased: a habit.
Quirks or habits, these were things Arang had once pursued. In his view, even bad habits could inspire the creation of a new martial art, depending on how one wielded them.
"Two hundred scarecrows... could help me create a habit."
Though he had already thinned their numbers with his first strike, Arang understood that as an impurity in this world, his power faced strict limits. The fight would not be easy, and he welcomed the challenge.
***
While locked in a fierce battle against Deathberry, I suddenly sensed a familiar presence and let out a laugh.
"Is this really the time to laugh?!" Seren exclaimed as she fought beside me.
"How can I not?"
It felt surreal. Senior Brother Arang was here, in my home world.
This was nothing like when I met Senior Brother He Lou. That encounter had taken place in Hell, right after I had faced Tantata, and my mind had been all over the place.
No. Isn't this situation similar?
Tantata had been replaced by Hadenaihar, and the Otherworld's twisted environment rivaled Hell in its cruelty. If I had to judge, the situation was more desperate now.
It's probably just a temporary summon. A shame, really. It would've been nice to exchange a few words.
In any case, that side no longer needed my concern. What mattered was here. If we couldn't drive out the demon king, all this fighting would be pointless. That was the simple truth.
I looked at Charon and Seren. She looked to be in better shape, so I pulled something from my coat and tossed it her way.
—Take this.
I sent a sound transmission without making a sound and delivered the item from a blind spot where the demon king couldn't see.
Even in the heat of battle, Seren caught it skillfully. She wasn't clueless. She didn't ask outright, but her eyes silently questioned, "What is this?"
—A divine relic, Amon's Scissors.
I never thought there would be a time I'd actually use this.
Amon's Scissors belonged to Alderson's prized collection and was a genuine relic.
This was the trump card that could turn the tide. Though rusty and limited in use, it would work once or twice, and that would be enough.
I continued my explanation.
—The one controlling Deathberry is the blood-red moon in the sky. Among the dolls surrounding us, one is closely linked to it. It is the one with the unique reversed eyes.
Seren's eyebrows twitched slightly as she scanned the area. She found it.
—If you look carefully, you'll see a thread attached around its cervical spine. Cutting that thread could be the key to victory. The problem is that the thread is unbelievably tough. But with these scissors, you should be able to sever it.
Seren tilted her head slightly. She understood the plan and the risks. Her lips parted just enough to ask, "Why me?"
—I'm the one the demon king watches most closely. I already tried and failed to cut that thread. Since then, the bastard has kept his main body well out of my reach. That means only you or Charon can do it. You're in better shape than he is. So it has to be you.
The conversation took longer than I expected. The internal energy used to transmit the message was precious, so I stopped talking and shifted my gaze.
I caught Seren's faint nod just before I turned. That was enough. Now, I needed to draw the demon king's attention again.
I stomped on the ground, and the floor of the building jolted loudly. As the dolls' movements paused briefly, I dashed toward the window.
Hadenaihar, the Blood Moon Demon King. Unlike Ahop, who had stayed silent until the very end, this one had intelligence and a distinct sense of self, much like Tantata. He must be analyzing the entire Otherworld with those cold, unsettling eyes, treating all this chaos as nothing more than a game or amusement.
I don't know what kind of personality he has and what thoughts drove him to do this, but I know at least one of his goals.
Hadenaihar coveted me. Perhaps he was salivating over my very soul, and to claim it completely, he would have to consume all my regressions.
The quickest way to understand someone was to discover what provoked them. I wasn't sure if this logic applied to a demon king, but I decided to speak without holding back.
"Hey, you ugly bastard."
No response.
"You've got a face like the moon itself. What are you going to do with me if you get me? Just so you know, I'm not marrying a demon. If you want to date me officially, go ask my dad for permission first."
Okay. No response to that nonsense.
I pushed through the wave of Deathberry copies and turned my back to the window for a moment. At the same time, I kept thinking, The third floor... In that unknown space, the monster showed his true colors to some extent.
What had he said before?
"I... understand... their... desires."
"Possession."
"I... want... to... possess... you... too."
A chill ran down my spine, but I didn't show it. He said he wanted me. Strangely, he seemed to be subtly wary of the other demon kings. If that's the case...
"Honestly, if I am going to be yours, I'd rather just play with Tantata."
The blood-red moon's expression twisted like a demon's.
Oh, so that worked.