Chapter 378

It was a strange, almost amusing thing that they were preparing for the “final battle.” After all, no one should even know he existed. No one. And that was how it should be. The King of the Dimensions was meant to be a symbol—nothing more. It was a title that belonged only to the one who conquered the Core, and he was the only one to ever ascend to that throne. No one else had even come close to it.

“Then how... how do they know about me?” mused the King of Dimensions.

Well, there was one being who knew of his existence. The very being that had shaped the myths of the Core: Ouroboros.

Was it Ouroboros who told them? Had Ouroboros revealed his existence to these creatures? No, if Ouroboros had been the sort to do that, it would’ve rejected the Encroachment entirely from the start. There was no reason for it to suddenly rally a bunch of lowly lifeforms now.

Also, Ouroboros knew that none of it mattered. If he, the King of the Dimensions, so much as wished it, he could wipe out the entire Core in an instant with minimal effort.

The King of the Dimensions raised a hand to the air and traced a circle. Pale white energy swirled from his fingertips, forming a mirror of light. The mirror shimmered, then revealed the first floor of the Core, where adventurers talked among themselves.

“I don’t care how many monsters show up. They’re not getting past us!”

“Right?! Plus, we’ve got all these treasure-grade artifacts. I’d die of embarrassment before I ever lose to a bunch of monsters.”

The chatting adventurers were laughing, joking, and all around radiating camaraderie. It wasn’t just them. On the second floor, the third, and all the way down to the Deep Realm, adventurers and administrators alike were rallying together, fired up to defeat him, the King of the Dimensions.

And what is this about this... King of Earth...?

Sometimes, when he listened to them, he would hear the most ridiculous things.

“The administrator said so! If we stop the monsters from reaching Earth, the King of Earth can focus fully on fighting the King of the Dimensions. That’s why we have to hold the line!”

They believed this “King of Earth” was going to fight him, and not only that, but they also genuinely believed he could win. Sometimes, the absurdity left him speechless, like now.

“Where does that confidence come from?” He wondered.

To think they could defeat him. A cold, bitter smirk tugged at his lips. He wondered who this so-called King of Earth was supposed to be.

***

Solomon stood from where he had been sitting in silence. He had recently heard from Baal about the Core's current state. Truthfully, he was caught off guard. He could hardly believe that the King of the Dimensions was about to awaken and that, in preparation, the entire Core and Deep Realm had united to form a defensive line.

However, Solomon was certain of one thing. If this was true and the King of the Dimensions truly returned, then the world would be destroyed. Once, long ago, during his time as a comrade of Cecilia, he’d had the chance to speak with Ouroboros just once.

Ouroboros had said,

“Becoming the King of the Dimensions means gaining the power to return all things to nothingness.”

The Cosmical Origin.

From the start, the universe was born from the void. All life, the moment it begins, hurtles toward its end. All things are fated to die, and that end is nothingness.

“There are two Keys: Cosmic and Origin. Those who obtain them are granted the right to wield that power. And if someone ever intends to use it... I can open the Path of Dimensions.”

As Solomon lived his long life, he had grown disillusioned with the world. So when he heard those words from Ouroboros, he decided he would reset everything, return all to the beginning, and create a new world.

Maybe this is a good thing after all

, Solomon thought

.

Even if he wouldn’t be the one to wield that power, at least the King of the Dimensions could carry out that goal. He would see his dream realized, even if it wasn’t by his hand. Honestly, he should have been joyous at the news, and yet...

Solomon picked a fruit from Baal’s garden near the altar. It was from the plants that Baal had carefully nurtured himself.

He recalled Baal’s words,

“I am growing a fruit called ‘strawberry,’ my lord. Consuming it greatly enhances stamina and increases one’s strength. I’ve been preparing myself in my own way for the day when you completely take over this body. After all, one must be in peak condition to wage war...

”

The strawberry melted sweetly on his tongue, but it didn’t boost his strength or enhance his stamina. Truthfully, Solomon knew Baal wasn’t growing the fruit for any grand purpose. He simply... liked growing strawberries. Maybe it brought him peace. Solomon reached into his pocket and pulled something out, a rare, precious item known as a Choco Pie.

He once asked Baal what the character on the wrapper meant, and Baal had answered,

“It means ‘heart.’ A feeling of affection or care for someone else.”

Solomon carefully opened the wrapper and took a bite of the soft, round pastry. It was sweet, different from the strawberry, yet no less gentle. Delicious, and deeply so.

Maybe that was why his heart felt heavy. The world might end, utterly destroyed by the King of the Dimensions. And that meant he might never see that baby’s innocent smile again.

I used to think they were selfish.

Solomon turned his head, eyes settling on the Core Forum floating in the air.

It showed the people of the Core, standing together, encouraging one another. They were united. He had believed that living beings cared only for themselves and were ruled by selfish instincts that rejected others. But now, what he saw was completely different.

Cecilia,

he muttered the name in his mind, his eyes closed.

You were right all along.

With that memory came a silent vow: If they were ever to meet again, he would apologize for his sins.

“Steward. Listen well,” Baal, or rather, Solomon, muttered.

“Y-yes, my lord!” The steward, trembling from head to toe, kept his head bowed low beside Solomon.

Though the body before him belonged to Baal, he could feel that it was no longer Baal. The being now inhabiting that flesh was the true master of the seventy-two demons, the primordial evil from the beginning of all things: Solomon.

“Tell the seventy-two demons this,” he said. “Not a single enemy must be allowed to reach Earth.”

***

Sitting in the Hunter’s Bureau Situation Room, Young-Chul glanced at the top of the status panel and checked the date and time. It was 9:38 PM on August 31, 2022. September 1 was two hours and twenty-two minutes away. It would be the moment the final battle broke out.

Every necessary preparation had already been made. Once the sirens sounded, citizens would evacuate immediately, and thanks to Hakase’s assistance, the shelters were now protected by barriers strong enough to repel even S-rank monsters.

Young-Chul reached for the pin pinned to his tie and fiddled with it. It had become a habit of his, whenever he felt anxious, to hold the Taeguk badge Do-Jun had awarded him. But tonight, the weight of it only seemed to make the anxiety worse. He felt the gravity of his responsibility more than ever.

The door to the situation room slid open. Young-Chul looked up, hoping, just maybe, that it was Do-Jun. But it wasn’t. It was Kang-Hyun, the Sword Emperor.

Kang-Hyun caught the brief flicker of disappointment on Young-Chul’s face but offered a small smile as if to say he understood. He approached.

“Sir, all units are in position.”

“Good work, Kang-Hyun.”

The S-rank Hunters were already assigned to their designated sectors. Behemoth and the Icarus Guild had been deployed at Sodaesan Mountain in Gangwon-do, the entrance to the Core. Meanwhile, the Phoenix and Messiah Guilds would defend the remaining urban areas. If any monsters broke out from the Core, they would likely appear at Sodaesan Mountain first.

“I still don’t know if this is the right move. It’s not that I don’t trust Supervisor Lee, but...” Young-Chul muttered, and Kang-Hyun already understood what he meant.

There was unease about the battle that was about to unfold. When Do-Jun first brought it up, Young-Chul and the S-rank Hunters had all recommended declaring a national emergency immediately.

According to the National Fissure Management Act, with presidential approval, the head of the Hunter’s Bureau could take all necessary measures to protect the nation and its citizens in the event of a recognized existential threat. But Do-Jun had simply said, “Don’t worry,” just like always, with the same calm face, the same steady voice.

Do-Jun had spoken plainly.

“What you’re worried about won’t happen. If it were going to, I would have asked for help first. I would have asked you to declare a national emergency and help evacuate people to another dimension. This is nothing. Just another one of the many enemies that have shown up until now.”

And he had promised that, just as it had been up to this point, the peace they enjoyed now would continue. That everything would pass as though nothing had happened.

He reassured them again and again.

“I’ll take full responsibility for whatever happens.”

They had already placed far too much on Do-Jun’s shoulders. Young-Chul had never said it aloud, but he knew that Do-Jun had always tried to carry everything by himself.

“At eleven, we’ll declare a mock emergency drill,” Young-Chul declared.

It was partly a precaution, just in case. However, Kang-Hyun also understood the real reason: They wanted to express, however indirectly, that someone was out there fighting. Even if no one knew this person existed and even if they couldn’t fully understand the situation, they hoped people would at least feel that something was happening.

“You once said I was like Superman, sir,” Kang-Hyun said.

A hero. Adored, respected, admired. Someone who shines in the daylight, cutting down evil in dazzling fashion. Someone who stands tall in the limelight, praised and talked about, whose tales spread like legends.

The world’s number-one S-rank Hunter. The undisputed head of the most elite guild, Behemoth. Someone expected never to fall, never to falter. Some called him the indestructible sword that guarded the entire world.

“The only reason I was able to shine as I did was that I was under Supervisor Lee’s protection.”

Do-Jun was the one who had always protected Behemoth as their silent guardian, using his absolute power to defend them from the shadows.

“Even if people don’t realize the sun only rises after the long night, you and I, and a few others, do.”

The clock struck ten.

Kang-Hyun gave a small nod to Young-Chul. “Then, I’ll head to my post.”

The situation room door slid closed again.

Young-Chul took out a pack of cigarettes. He stared at it for a long moment, then dropped it into the trash can. Straightening his suit, he sat down and turned to face the status board, his expression now resolute.