“Ahaha— Is that really something to be so surprised about?”

“Emil…!?”

Rine’s eyes widened in disbelief. The Apostle of Greed let out a laugh, as if enjoying her reaction.

Her attitude was as if she were greeting an old friend.

However.

…

Evan, who had been wearing a lighthearted expression just moments ago, immediately drew his sword at Rine’s unusual reaction.

Even if he had not yet reached the level of a Master, he instinctively knew how dangerous the sudden visitor before him was.

At the moment when his tension reached its peak—

Thud!

“Urgh~!?”

A sharp pain struck the back of Evan’s head, causing his body to tilt.

“?”

Realizing that the one who had struck his neck was Rine’s golden crown, Evan’s face filled with confusion.

“I’m sorry. But this is the best option.”

With Rine’s voice fading into the distance, Evan lost consciousness.

“Oh my, how clever. Or is it for another reason?”

“Shut up.”

At the Apostle of Greed’s sneer, Rine glared fiercely at her.

Without hesitation, Rine used the golden crown to move Evan to the opposite side.

“Why are you so angry? I don’t think our relationship was that bad.”

“Do you really think that’s something to say right now?”

“Of course. Who do you think first taught you how to use the ‘Library’?”

“……!”

The Library.

At that word, Rine’s body flinched slightly.

“I never needed something like that…!”

“Do you really think so?”

Emil chuckled leisurely.

Rine’s expression twisted in irritation, her lips tightening as if there was no longer a need for conversation.

፡፡

-!

At that moment, golden eyes, unseen just moments ago, revealed themselves.

Crash!

Golden crowns shot toward Emil, scraping fiercely against the surrounding pillars and marble.

The speed was blinding.

However.

“Hm— I did read up on this information beforehand, but you really carry around some interesting things, Rine. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s from the Ilaneph Empire?”

The golden crowns, which should have riddled the Apostle’s body with holes, stopped powerlessly the moment they reached her.

Clang!

A sinister energy spread from the Apostle, and branches materialized in midair, blocking the attack.

“!”

Rine’s brows furrowed even further.

But Emil, the Apostle of Greed, simply smirked and casually twitched her fingers.

At the same time, the very branches that had blocked the golden crown now crept along its surface like vines, beginning to invade it.

“!”

Rine quickly retrieved the golden crown.

“What a shame.”

Despite her words, Emil’s voice carried no genuine disappointment.

As if she were merely indulging Rine, she made no move to launch a counterattack, only responding to the attacks as they came.

Even as confusion swirled within Rine over Emil’s sudden appearance, she focused on finding a way to break through the situation.

‘What should I do?’

If this weren’t an underground space but out in the open, she might have been confused, but not anxious.

Outside, she could use Pluto without restriction.

Even then, she wasn’t sure she could guarantee victory.

If it were ten years ago, perhaps, but now—she fully understood just who the person before her was.

But this was underground.

A space too small to properly use Pluto.

If she was willing to risk the collapse of the underground chamber, she might be able to attempt it.

Even if the cave collapsed, Rine was confident she could survive.

But the problem was—

Alon and Evan.

If she wasn’t careful, Alon and Evan could get caught in the destruction.

Rine racked her brain, desperately searching for a way to overcome the situation.

However.

The Apostle of Greed merely watched Rine with a relaxed expression.

As if she were curious to see what decision Rine would make.

***

Meanwhile, in the ashen world.

“Answer me, mage. I asked if you were the one who called me.”

At the sheer coldness in Kylrus’s gaze, Alon gathered his thoughts and answered.

“……………It’s true that I called you, but I have no idea where this place is.”

“You don’t know?”

“That’s right.”

Kylrus furrowed his brow.

As if attempting to discern the truth, he stared intently at Alon before suddenly extending his index finger and drawing a straight line in the air.

Rumble~!

The blue magic that flowed from his hand was different from what had been used in the labyrinth, slicing through the air before dissipating.

Seeing this, Kylrus let out a sigh, his face tinged with disappointment.

“What nonsense are you spouting, mage? There’s no way you don’t know this place.”

“What do you mean?”

“……You really don’t know anything, do you? Just how did you manage to pull off something so absurd with such a lack of knowledge?”

“……”

“I’ll explain it only once, so listen carefully, brat.”

With those words, he instantly downgraded Alon from a mage to a mere rookie of the past.

“This place is a realm of the mind, separate from the world you live in. Every person who has achieved a great deed carries their own unique world.”

“Then… is this your realm of the mind?”

Alon thought his reasoning was quite plausible.

Recalling the story of the Golden Dragon, Lanisius, he knew that the mage before him had fought against the Black Ones, regardless of what his final fate had been.

‘Then, could this be a manifestation of the world after his battle with the Black Ones?’

Alon silently observed the ruined world around him.

Just looking at this devastated landscape was enough to remind him of the Black Ones’ true danger.

‘…The world from a thousand years ago is far worse than what I saw in the game.’

In ‘Psychedelia’, the Black Ones inflicted great damage on the continent, but they were ultimately stopped by Eliban and other powerful figures.

Because of that, the situation had never escalated to this extent.

However, in a world where the Black Ones had not been stopped, the result was utter destruction—complete and absolute ruin.

Even Alon, who usually remained indifferent, was momentarily stunned by the sight.

Then—

“…Ha.”

“?”

Kylrus let out a hollow laugh.

“What nonsense are you spouting, brat? This realm of the mind—”

His next words were even more shocking.

“It’s yours.”

“…What?”

Alon’s mouth fell open, unable to process the words.

“My… realm of the mind?”

“Yes. I, who have lost everything, have no reason to possess a realm of the mind.”

Kylrus scrutinized him with a look that suggested Alon didn’t even understand something as basic as that.

Then, after casually glancing around, he shrugged.

“Anyway, brat, this is your realm of the mind.”

“…Are you saying this is really the same kind of realm of the mind I know?”

“Yes. Though in your case, you lack any formulaic constructs, so it’s merely being shaped by your strongest memories.”

Kylrus’s words made Alon swallow his confusion and try to gather his thoughts—

But before he could do so—

“So, brat. Why did you summon me?”

The sudden question halted his train of thought.

After a brief silence, he answered.

“…I had something to ask.”

“Something to ask, huh.”

Kylrus stared at Alon for a moment before saying—

“Speak. Keep it concise. You did manage to defeat me, so I’ll at least grant you that much.”

He moved slowly and sat atop a pile of rubble. His words urged Alon to speak, though Alon hesitated, as there were many things he wanted to ask.

“……”

After deliberating for a moment, Alon finally asked his first question.

“…I heard it from the Golden Dragon, Lanisius. That you were originally a mage.”

Kylrus’s expression turned strange at those words.

“You met the Golden Dragon?”

“Yes.”

“So, he’s still alive.”

When Alon nodded, Kylrus relaxed his previously furrowed brow and let out a small sigh.

“…That’s a relief.”

A whisper so quiet that even Alon barely caught it.

Alon briefly considered telling him how Lanisius had survived, but before he could make that decision—

“Well, whatever, brat. What you really want to know is why a mage like me ended up as an Outer God, isn’t it?”

“…Yeah.”

Kylrus asked, and Alon nodded in response.

“It’s simple—revenge.”

“…Revenge?”

The answer came swiftly, without hesitation.

“Yes. I abandoned everything to become a goblin so that I could take revenge against the Black Ones.”

….

“…Is that even possible?”

“No. It’s impossible—under normal circumstances.”

Kylrus’s brow furrowed as if recalling the past.

“In my battle against the Black Ones, I lost everything. My comrades, my friends, all of them. The only things left around me were corpses.”

“I, too, was barely clinging to life, waiting for a death that wasn’t far off.”

“……”

“But I didn’t want to die. I wanted revenge on the Black Ones who had killed my comrades and friends. I wanted to annihilate them with my own hands.”

A peculiar glint flickered in his eyes.

“I searched for a way to survive. I forced my shattered mana core beyond its limits to barely keep myself alive and think. And at that moment, the goblins appeared.”

His expression, however, remained unnervingly calm.

“Hundreds, perhaps thousands of goblins who had burrowed underground, cowering from the presence of the Black Ones, emerged—”

“And they feasted on the corpses of my comrades.”

Kylrus’s eyes burned as if he were witnessing that moment all over again.

It was then that Alon finally understood the strange light in his gaze.

“A mage’s hand—the same hand that had exchanged jokes just the day before—was mercilessly chewed to pieces in a goblin’s mouth.”

“A mage’s head—the same head that had worried for his disciple just the day before—became nothing more than a plaything for the goblins.”

“A young mage’s body—the same body that had envisioned a future just the day before—was ground into mincemeat and fed to young goblins.”

And—

It was ‘rage’.

A quiet, emotionless rage that only burned all the fiercer for its stillness.

“In that moment, as I watched those goblins devouring my comrades’ corpses, I found my way to survival.”

The next words came from Alon’s own lips.

“…The goblins’ god.”

As if affirming that deduction, Kylrus continued his tale with eerie composure.

“I squeezed out the last dregs of my mana and transformed into a goblin.”

“I slaughtered goblins with my broken mana core to instill fear.”

“I seized my comrades’ corpses before the goblins could devour them—only to then grant them back, earning their worship.”

“I degraded my fallen comrades into mere chunks of meat—offering them up to the ravenous goblins, stuffing them down their insatiable throats to secure their reverence.”

In that moment, the puzzle pieces clicked together in Alon’s mind.

Why Kylrus, once a mage, now bore the appearance of a goblin as an Outer God.

Why he could no longer use the Death Shadow Dragon.

“My realm of the mind, my magic, my honor, my dignity, my comrades—”

“I abandoned everything,” Kylrus said, but then—

His voice wavered.

His face twisted.

“And I became the Outer God, Kylrus.”

At last, Alon understood.

Where Kylrus’s strange, simmering rage was truly directed.

It wasn’t toward the Black Ones.

It wasn’t toward the goblins, either.

It was—

“That’s the reason I still exist in this world as an Outer God.”

— ‘Self-hatred’.

The rage wasn’t for his enemies.

It was for himself—the one who had survived in disgrace, the one who had clung to life in the most wretched, grotesque way possible.

A deep, unrelenting self-loathing.

“……”

Alon could find no words to say.