The small duchy of Varnos, located in the southern part of the continent, consists of five territories.

Although its land area is larger than that of the Duchy of Luxibl, most of it is mountainous.

As a result, no industry has developed, and the region barely survives on various coal mines.

The seventh king of Varnos, Varnos Kynore, stared blankly ahead.

What lay before his eyes—

Was a scene of massacre.

Soldiers and knights alike had been torn limb from limb and were strewn about in disarray.

Beyond the shattered inner walls, the capital’s town was engulfed in flames.

The corpse of an elderly man, burning.

The body of a child, fallen and bleeding.

The remains of a young man, half of his upper torso torn away as he resisted.

The corpses were shredded as if they had been slaughtered by monsters rather than humans.

Yet, Kynore knew the truth.

The perpetrator of this massacre was not a monster.

“If only you had listened.”

It was an entity possessing intelligence.

Kynore’s trembling head turned to the side.

Before he knew it, a man had approached right in front of him.

A man with light gray hair and gray eyes, exuding an endlessly cheerful aura.

“……”

Kynore involuntarily swallowed.

It wasn’t the man’s outward appearance that unsettled him.

It was his eyes.

Eyes devoid of anything.

Entirely dark gray without even pupils.

They seemed to proclaim that the being before him was not human.

And in truth, the one standing before him was not human.

Though he took the form of a human—

This thing was not one.

“Listen to what you’re told?”

“That’s right. If you had obediently left, this wouldn’t have happened to you.”

“…You said you’d kill them all…!”

Kynore gritted his teeth and spat his words.

He knew.

The man standing before him was someone who could crush his life effortlessly.

And yet, Kynore did not bow his pride.

Even if it was just a small duchy, he was still a king.

No—strictly speaking, it wasn’t pride.

It was merely the desperate struggle of a man who had lost everything.

Because he had nothing left to lose.

Because he had already plummeted off the cliff, he could afford to struggle.

His eyes burned with a fierce determination beyond fear.

But even in the face of that gaze—

The man only chuckled playfully.

“Still, I told you I’d let you live, didn’t I?”

“Are you seriously saying that right now…!”

“Isn’t it obvious? One’s own life is more important than another’s. Ah, no—perhaps it’s different in your case.”

A smirk.

“Without your title as king, you’re nothing.”

“…!”

A blatant insult.

Kynore’s eyes widened in fury as he tried to retort—

Crunch!

Unfortunately—

He never got the chance.

The moment he parted his lips—

A grotesque creature, emerging from the man’s chest, had already devoured him.

Crunch, crunch! Snap!

A sickening sound.

The monster swiftly consumed the upper half of Kynore’s body.

The man, watching the scene with utter tranquility,

Perched himself on the rubble of the ruined kingdom and gazed forward.

Then—

“What a magnificent view.”

With a twisted smile,

“Now, shall we begin?”

He raised his index finger.

At the tip of his finger, a black droplet slowly began to form.

Like blood welling up, the droplet grew larger, until—

Drip.

It fell to the ground.

Fwoooosh!

At that moment, a black aura began to spread in all directions.

Instantly, the once-blazing and corpse-filled capital darkened, as if the very light had been stolen.

And suddenly—

Things that had not been visible before came into view.

Monstrous creatures, their bodies pitch black as the abyss.

Devouring the corpses, feasting in grotesque revelry.

Some danced as if reveling in joy.

Some focused solely on consuming the bodies.

Some fought over corpses that others were eating.

A grotesque feast was unfolding.

And then—

One of the Four Great Powers of Psychedelia.

The Lord of Ghouls (鬼) himself.

“Now then, how shall I move next?”

He muttered, twisting his lips into a smirk.

***

Alon left the Lartania Marquisate three weeks ago.

“It’ll take about a week to reach Nail, right?”

“Hmm—yes, that’s about right. And after that, it’ll be another three days of travel to enter Greynifra, according to the information the Marquis provided.”

“I see.”

As Alon gave a brief nod—

[Meow-]

“No.”

[Meow……]

He gently stopped Blackie, who had been sitting on his thigh and was now trying to burrow into his coat.

Blackie, ears drooping as if deeply disappointed, eventually flattened them altogether, seemingly making itself disappear.

Alon stroked the head of the now-strangely misshapen creature and pulled out an object from inside his coat.

“You know, Blackie really seems to like that.”

“Looks like it.”

The reason Blackie was trying to dig into Alon’s coat—

It was because of something Alon had obtained a week ago while passing through a labyrinth in the south.

The Jewel of Forgetting.

It emitted a crimson glow, much like Yutia’s eyes.

Though it appeared to have no practical value, to Alon, it was of utmost importance.

It had the power to reset the “Salvation of the Wanderer”, the artifact that could summon Basiliora.

…Of course, even if he gave a proper offering to “that one” who had yet to make an appearance, he could still use the Salvation of the Wanderer.

But the Jewel of Forgetting, while single-use, allowed him to activate the Salvation of the Wanderer without any additional cost.

Because of that, Alon had deliberately gone out of his way to visit the labyrinth—just in case.

“By the way, Marquis, last time you mentioned that with that thing, you could—uh, what was it again—oh right, you could use an artifact to bring Basiliora back, right?”

“That’s correct.”

“But how does that jewel work?”

Evan asked, curiosity suddenly piqued.

Alon explained it briefly.

“It’s probably based on accelerating time for the object it’s used on.”

“…Time acceleration?”

“Yes.”

Alon nodded, sifting through his memories.

‘It was definitely time acceleration. Ten years… plus three months, I think.’

He even remembered the precise numbers.

‘If I recall correctly, collecting 100 of them would reset the restriction.’

The first ring Alon had obtained to set up the restriction—

Had an absurd cooldown time of one thousand years before it could be reused.

It was such a ridiculous setting that he had once wondered why it even existed.

But naturally, in Psychedelia, no matter how much the game dragged on, in-game time never exceeded ten years.

So, a one-thousand-year cooldown was essentially meaningless.

However, once word spread in the community that collecting the Jewels of Forgetting could reset the restriction—

People finally understood why such a bizarre mechanic had existed and started searching for the jewels.

But soon, their enthusiasm quickly died down.

The disadvantage of having to scour the entire continent for them far outweighed the benefit of resetting restrictions.

Moreover, their sheer quantity was overwhelming.

Because of that, the jewels became more of a gimmick—used by streamers or YouTubers as clickbait content rather than a practical game strategy.

Even Alon had barely farmed them.

It was only now, thanks to Basiliora, that he had a real reason to use them.

Normally, he wouldn’t have even used the Jewel of Forgetting more than five times throughout his entire playthrough of Psychedelia.

“If you gave that to Blackie, wouldn’t it, like, grow massively?”

Evan’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“…Well, I don’t even know if it works on living creatures, but if it does, I guess that could happen.”

[Meow-!]

At Alon’s affirmation, Blackie let out a determined cry—its expression practically shouting, “I can do it!”

[No way! You think I’d let my chance at returning be wasted as a mere snack?! ABSURD—!!!]

At the sudden, shrieking outburst of Basiliora, who had seemingly materialized out of nowhere—

[W-Wait! Stop! STOP I SAID!!!]

Blackie immediately launched itself at him, relentlessly swiping with its paws in a flurry of cat punches.

“Yes! That’s it!”

Evan cheered with delight as Blackie disciplined Basiliora.

He seemed to find great joy in Basiliora’s suffering, even lifting both hands into the air in celebration.

Watching their chaotic antics unfold, Alon silently tucked the Jewel of Forgetting back into his coat.

‘At the very least, I should collect a few more… before “that one” appears on the continent.’

***

By the time a little more than a week had passed, Alon had made his final preparations in Nail a few days prior and then traveled three more days by carriage.

“From here on, we’ll have to go on foot.”

“That does seem to be the case.”

They had arrived in a densely forested area.

“…Is this the Elven Territory now?”

“Yes, it seems so. Just look—the color of the grass is completely different.”

“…This is quite strange.”

The difference in the color of the grass between where Alon stood and the land inside Greynifra was striking.

‘This side is dark, but that side is bright.’

Even though they were in a forest where shadows naturally formed—

The plants inside Greynifra shone with a vibrant blue-green hue, radiating vitality.

Observing this unusual sight, Alon wore a curious expression.

“Well then, let’s head inside.”

“Yes.”

As he and Evan began walking forward, Alon recalled Recon’s words.

‘So far, the information he provided seems accurate… It doesn’t look like he was lying. That means from here on, we need to be careful not to get caught by the elves.’

He carefully replayed Recon’s warning in his mind.

—The elves are extremely hostile toward humans. If encountered, make it clear that you have no intention to fight and leave Greynifra immediately.

Recon had repeatedly emphasized how much elves despised humans.

Keeping this in mind, Alon moved into the forest with a slightly tense expression.

***

Two Hours Later

“It looks like we’re almost out.”

The seemingly endless forest finally revealed its exit.

Upon confirming this, Alon and Evan walked forward without hesitation.

And then—

“Oh—!”

“…!”

The moment they stepped out of the forest, Evan let out a startled exclamation.

Alon also instinctively widened his eyes.

What filled their vision—

Was an army of elves, easily numbering over a hundred, standing before them.

As if they had been expecting them.

‘This is bad.’

A shiver ran down Alon’s spine as countless thoughts flooded his mind.

‘Wasn’t this supposed to be a hidden path?’

Had Recon betrayed him?

Was this just a coincidence?

Or had they simply taken a wrong turn?

But before his thoughts could spiral further, Alon forced himself to push them aside.

The priority now—was to show they weren’t hostile.

So—

“Wait—! We didn’t come to Greynifra to fight—”

As Alon raised his hands in surrender—

Grab—!

An elf, who had been far away just moments ago, suddenly appeared at his side and grabbed his hand.

And then—

“Welcome. We’ve been expecting you.”

The elf lowered his head respectfully,

His face filled with subtle joy, as if greeting a long-awaited guest.

“…Huh?”

For a moment, Alon could do nothing but gape in confusion.