Four beautiful women stood watching me, each with a different expression on their face.

What did I just say again?

I raised a hand to my forehead. It felt slightly damp. I must’ve sweated a bit while unconscious.

Yu Hana silently held out a handkerchief beside me.

“Thanks.”

I slowly inhaled and looked around. Judging by the time, I hadn’t been unconscious for all that long.

Elegant furniture, clean white bedsheets, a large monitor hanging on the wall.

‘This is...’

I remembered. It was the same hospital room where I’d been admitted after collapsing from drinking the Elixir.

Then—

“Haein, are you okay...?”

Sion asked, looking deeply worried.

I gave her a slight nod. Objectively speaking, I was fine.

Mentally, I still felt a bit fatigued, but it was manageable. Digging around in circles hadn’t changed anything, after all.

“I’m good. It’s nothing serious. Just had a little chat with the spear, that’s all...”

I gestured casually at the spear leaning beside the bed, acting like it was nothing.

But their expressions were far from reassured. There was something gloomy, even sorrowful in their eyes.

What’s this? Am I dying or something?

I wondered if the doctor had told them something behind my back, and cautiously asked,

“Did I... get diagnosed with some terminal illness...?”

Just then—

“What, you’re up?”

The hospital room door slammed open.

It was Park Gwangcheol, holding a basket of apples. He must’ve heard I’d woken up and come to see me.

Striding confidently into the room, he waved the basket and said,

“You look fine to me.”

Then, like it was no big deal, he plucked an apple from the basket and—crunch—bit into it.

“...Why apples?”

I asked, dumbfounded.

“I just thought I’d bring some, but I guess they’re not really needed...”

His eyes slowly scanned the room—and stopped on the four women standing near the bed.

He silently counted them with his finger.

One, two, three... four.

He went quiet for a moment, nodding to himself, then glanced at me and gave a cautious thumbs-up.

“Y’all enjoy those yourselves~”

With that, he plopped the basket down on the bedside table and immediately turned to leave.

I stared at him as he exited the room, stunned, and thought to myself—

‘The hell...’

Still, seeing his usual face again didn’t feel bad.

After all, all I’d seen lately were faces steeped in despair.

I’d pretty much collected myself.

It was time to get moving.

What I saw—whether it was real or not—I had to be prepared either way.

I slowly rose from the bed and picked up Catastrophe from beside me.

“...Phew.”

I was tense as I grabbed it, just in case—but thankfully, there was no unusual reaction.

I leaned the spear back against the bed and turned around.

Then I spoke to the women still standing behind me.

“Let’s get something to eat. You got time?”

Cheon Yeoul and Yu Hana had been here from the start, but Sion and Kang Arin clearly came here on purpose.

It only felt right to at least buy them a meal.

Kang Arin nodded first. Then Yu Hana, Sion, and Cheon Yeoul followed with quiet agreement.

“Okay.”

I had things to talk about anyway. This worked out well.

They stood there silently, still watching me.

“Mind stepping out for a sec? I’ll change real quick and be out.”

I tugged at the clothes I was wearing as I spoke.

Still dressed in patient clothes.

“......”

But instead of moving, they exchanged awkward glances, subtly watching each other.

I looked at their hesitant expressions and spoke again.

“You’re not leaving?”

Let me change.

When I pressed a second time, the door finally opened and they slipped out of the room.

***

A private room in a quiet restaurant.

We sat around the dining table.

Before I could even think about what to order, Sion brought up eel.

Said I needed something restorative after collapsing—and the other three firmly agreed.

I just went along with it.

—Ssssszzzt.

“....”

The sound of eel grilling filled the room.

Come to think of it, this was the first time all of us were gathered like this.

I’d gotten close with each of them individually, but not them with each other.

Especially Sion—she wasn’t even in the same class.

Naturally, the air turned awkward.

Someone had to speak first.

I raised my head and looked across the table.

Cheon Yeoul, sitting there, kept placing cut-up pieces of eel onto my plate.

“Cheon Yeoul.”

When I called her, she looked up with a slight jolt.

“Huh?”

I set down my spoon and asked,

“Do paladins of the Order accept requests?”

At that moment, all four pairs of eyes instantly turned to me.

Aldebaran’s trial.

I had clearly seen it. Three Apostles gathered in one place.

Three Apostles?

That kind of force belonged in the late-middle or endgame of the main story.

Honestly, I still couldn’t believe it. Even from the Evil God’s perspective, Apostles were strategic weapons.

But now that I’d seen it, what I had to do was obvious.

Balance the scales of [N O V E L I G H T] power.

If that event actually happened, Vanquisher alone wouldn’t stand a chance. I’d need to bring in other teams to even the odds.

Besides, in the final scene, the Apostles retreated the moment Association support arrived. That suggested they were trying to avoid clashing with other factions.

It was just a theory, but the more forces we had involved, the less likely they’d push for open combat.

So I had to gather people.

Even if the Apostles didn’t show up—

You might think, “Then why not just avoid the place entirely from the start?” but that was probably impossible.

What happened to Vanquisher—though it may have started as a simple one-line script event, unrelated to the main protagonist’s actions—

Even if I avoided it now, it would return later in an even more disastrous form I couldn’t predict.

That was why it was better to prepare within the foreseeable scope.

That was the lesson I learned from Aldebaran’s trial.

I had to acknowledge my own complacency.

And with that, the flaws in my plan began to reveal themselves naturally.

‘Shock therapy, huh.’

It hadn’t been a pleasant experience, but if I walked away with something, it had meaning.

The story was long, and the hardest parts were still far ahead.

“I’ll take your request.”

She replied in a quiet voice.

So in the end, I needed the help of a Paladin.

They were one of the few forces capable of standing against Apostles, primarily using attacks based on divine energy.

I looked Cheon Yeoul straight in the eyes and said,

“Yeah? Then I’ve got a request for you.”

The Paladins, being the core force of the Order, didn’t accept outside requests.

But there was one exception—just one person whose orders they would obey without question.

The one to whom all Paladins swore loyalty.

The Saint.

Now was the time to see the value of the bond I’d built with her—and with the Order.

Cheon Yeoul set down her chopsticks.

“What’s the request?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

I brushed my hand across the surface of the table, then answered.

“Apostles.”

In that moment, the air above the table grew heavy.

“I think Apostles are going to appear.”

They would appear.

It wasn’t the kind of story anyone would easily believe.

After the Evil God had been sealed by the Hero two generations ago, most of the Apostles had either perished or fallen into deep slumber. The few who survived had hidden themselves completely.

Most heroes alive today had never encountered an Apostle in person.

Their cruelty and power were known only through historical records.

The recent demonic attack in Shanghai—that had been the first official appearance of an Apostle in decades.

When the first report came in, the Chinese Hero Association dispatched several A-rank heroes without hesitation. They had the records, sure, but they didn’t understand how real the threat was.

And within just a few hours, all contact was lost. The result: total annihilation.

That’s how Apostles were perceived—monsters of legend.

I studied Cheon Yeoul’s reaction.

Whether she believed me or not didn’t matter.

As long as the Paladins stayed close by and were ready to move when the Apostles appeared, that was enough.

And if the Apostles didn’t show?

That would be a good thing. The best possible outcome—no blood spilled.

Of course, I might get written off as a lunatic rambling nonsense. In the worst case, I could damage my relationship with the Order.

‘I don’t care.’

My pride, reputation—none of it mattered.

The goal was singular.

‘Prepare for the worst.’

Having seen a future where I hadn’t done that, that one goal was more than enough.

“It’s okay if you don’t believe me.”

I continued calmly.

“I’ll cover the cost—just stand by, at least...”

But—

Cheon Yeoul didn’t let me finish.

She suddenly stood up and closed the distance between us in a single step.

She leaned forward and took both my hands in hers.

Her fingertips were trembling slightly.

“I believe you.”

A small but resolute voice.

My eyes met hers. Her blue eyes were unwavering and clear.

I was at a loss for words.

“...Yeah.”

In the end, I could only let out a short laugh and nod.

***

A massive cavern, cut off from the world.

Dark. Cold.

Before the eyes of a man clad in black battle garb, a celestial sphere glowed faintly, casting a dim, eerie light.

“...!”

A small crack appeared in the sphere.

From that rift—faint, yet unmistakable—rose a drifting nebula.

Blinding traces of light burst forth, as if tearing through the veil of the universe.

“...Hahahahaha.”

A dry laugh escaped.

In a space where every direction had been sealed off, a path had finally opened for the first time.

Where that path led, even he didn’t know.

But only one thing mattered.

The path—was open.

—Ruuuuuumble.

The massive stone gate blocking the cavern began to slowly open.

From the pitch-black darkness within, unidentifiable forms began to crawl out.

They were different from the ones before. Larger, more numerous, and possessed of a clearer will.

The man slowly opened his mouth.

“You’re better than me.”

The worldline had shifted again.

But through countless regressions, he had learned something:

The world doesn’t give way so easily.

If you twist the flow and forcibly alter the outcome, there will always be a price to pay.

The man rose to his feet.

He gripped a spear soaked in the blood of demons and let out a slow exhale.

“...This time’s going to take a while.”

A faint light from the celestial sphere shone down on him.

Under that light, his face and body were covered in wounds.

But he had neither regret nor the option to stop.

Now, it was time—

To bear the weight of the world’s suppression.